The Pyrate

  Horse

  sh

  oe Bend

  The PYRATE

  The Rise of Cooper Cain

  Book 1

  Michael Aye

  Published by Boson Books

  An imprint of Bitingduck Press

  Formerly an imprint of C&M Online Media, Inc.

  ISBN 978-1-938463-26-6

  eISBN 978-1-938463-27-3

  © 2015 Michael A. Fowler. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, including mechanical, electric, photocopy, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  For information contact

  Bitingduck Press, LLC

  Altadena, CA

  notifications@bitingduckpress.com

  http://www.bitingduckpress.com

  Cover art by Johannes Ewers

  Rear cover by Ruth Sanderon

  Author’s note

  This book is a work of fiction with a historical backdrop. I have taken liberties with historical figures, ships, and time frames to blend in with my story. Therefore, this book is not a reflection of actual historical events.

  Books by Michael Aye

  Fiction

  The Fighting Anthony Series

  The Reaper, Book One

  HMS SeaWolf, Book Two

  Barracuda, Book Three

  SeaHorse, Book Four

  Peregrine, Book Five

  Trident, Book Six

  War 1812 Trilogy

  Remember the Raisin, Book One

  Battle At Horseshoe Bend, Book Two

  Non-Fiction

  What’s the Reason for All That Wheezing and Sneezing

  Michael A. Fowler and Nancy McKemie

  Dedication

  To the crew of Allergy & Asthma Clinics of Georgia. It’s been a long and rewarding cruise. Farewell and smooth sailing, mates.

  PROLOGUE

  The metallic clink as blade engaged blade filled the well lighted room. The foes would engage each other; at first, there was a steady feeling out of the other man. A thrust, a parry, and then disengage, a thrust or lunge and disengage again. As confidence built, the attack had increased in intensity and ferociousness. An attack, then a rasping sound as blade slid off blade and then a riposte or counterattack. A loud clank as a blade was beat aside. Respect was evident as the foes circled each other, cautious but not overly so.

  Jean-Paul de Giraud was a fencing master. He had been France’s greatest maitre d’Armes. He had soundly defeated Italy’s best. He had not only brought the championship to France but had kept it there so that French maitre d’Armes was considered the finest in the world. The de Giraud Salle d’Armes in Paris was second to none. Men of wealth would put their sons on the waiting list by the time they were twelve years old. Men would build a piste, a long rectangular room used for fencing instruction and bouts on their property, all in the hopes that their son would master the artistic pursuit of swordsmanship. But that was before Bonaparte. That was also before the guillotine’s blade caused panic and fear throughout the country. That was before the nobility of France fled their homeland leaving all their worldly possessions behind. Some of the nobility were living off the generosity of friends, while some of them were living as paupers.

  It was the same with Jean-Paul de Giraud. He escaped the guillotine with little more than the clothes on his back and a few of his favorite swords. He also carried his skill. England’s nobility and upper class society were no different than the French; men wanted their sons to be trained by the best. The difference was there was no Salle d’Armes. A few piste were built but in place of a school of fencing Jean-Paul would move in with a family, as an honored guest to show off to the local gentry. If the patron had one son it was not uncommon for the stay to last six months or longer. Two sons could mean a stay of a year. At which time the master would have done all that could be done toward turning a pupil into, if not a master swordsman, at least one who was well equipped in the art to defend himself if most honorably. Before long, Jean-Paul found himself so booked up he could not take any more pupils. His bank account had swelled to the point he didn’t need to teach ever again. But you could not put a monetary figure on the joy of the sport. This was especially true when a pupil became so apt that it made the teacher work all the harder.

  Thus was the case with the young man who faced him, a nephew of Sir Lawrence Finylson. He was a natural, his reflexes matched his instructor. The biggest advantage Jean-Paul had over his pupil was experience. Otherwise, the young man would have bested the master on several occasions. The skill was noted from the start, from the first “engage”. The lightning fast blade of young Cooper Cain made Jean-Paul relish the memory of his youth. Maybe it was his sudden distraction of recalling his younger years that cost the master the bout. The pupil attacked in earnest, the foil’s blade a blur, Jean-Paul returned the pressure after a gallant parry. But Cain was ready; he beat his opponent’s blade aside and with a windmill-like maneuver stripped Jean-Paul’s fencing foil from his grip, sending it into the air. Cain touched the nail-like end of his foil into Jean-Paul’s chest with one hand while catching the flying blade out of the air with the other. A feat which had been done against the master. Two thoughts came immediately to his mind. One, if this match had been a real battle he would be dead, and two, he was getting too damn old for this.

  Bowing to the young man, Jean-Paul addressed him, “M’sieur Cain, the student has become the master.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Cooper responded. “It was but luck. You seemed to be distracted and I took advantage of it.”

  Shaking his head in acknowledgment, Jean-Paul replied, “But alas you were able to recognize the distraction and you have developed the skill to take advantage of the moment.” Then leaning forward, Jean-Paul whispered, “I wish, M’sieur Phillip would show just a touch of interest. I feel my efforts are pointless in regards to that one.”

  Cooper smiled and replied back in a much louder voice, “He will never do anything that requires he put forth an effort. With Sir Lawrence as a father he may never have to put forth any effort.”

  Jean-Paul agreed. “But his father has demanded the boy take the lessons. A waste of time I fear, but time in which I’m well paid.”

  “Well, I’m most appreciative of your time and efforts,” Cooper replied earnestly.

  Jean-Paul bowed again and turned his attention to Phillip. The windows were open and a cool zephyr caused the candles to flicker. The bout with Cooper had caused Jean-Paul to work up a sweat. The zephyr was welcomed.

  “A glass before we start,” Jean-Paul said as he wiped his face with a towel. After draining a quick glass of sherry, he used the towel once more and then laid it aside. He doubted that he’d need the towel anymore. It was doubtful he’d do much more than go through the motions with Phillip. He’d never work up a sweat doing that.

  ***

  The moonlight was almost as bright as the day. Cooper had walked through the French doors and out the pavilion onto a patio. Burning torches lit up the flagstone pathway to a natural spring pool about a hundred meters away. He could just pick up the sound of water splashing and an occasional giggle. The twins, Jessie and Josie, must be down at the pool, Cooper thought. The girls were no kin to him but liked to tell everybody they were cousins. They were, in fact, wards of Sir Lawrence. Their father and Sir Lawrence had gone to school together, been in the same Army regiment, and later had each had a seat in Parliament.

  On New Year’s Day in 1795, their mother and father had been killed in a carriage accident when a careless driver had tried to turn a corner to cross a bridge too fast. The carriage wheels slid on the frozen ground and it toppled over the bridge into the icy waters below. The other driver w
as killed as well. The twins had been raised by Sir Lawrence since that time.

  Cooper made his way down the path and was standing at the edge of the pool watching the girls for a few minutes before they realized he was there. They were not just twins, they were identical. They were also the same age as Cooper and had always enjoyed each other’s company. All three of them detested Phillip. The girls were beautiful blond young vixens, and they knew it. Cooper enjoyed walking down a street with a twin on each arm and watching the heads turn in envy. Young or old, men looked, except Phillip.

  “He never looks,” Josie said. “I wonder if he’s a sodomite.” Cooper didn’t know, he didn’t care to know.

  However, whereas Phillip never looked, Cooper always looked…and why not? After all, God gave him eyes to appreciate the beautiful creatures he placed on this earth. If Jessie and Josie were not beautiful creatures, he didn’t know what was.

  Turning, Jessie spied Cooper. Slowly, she backed into the deeper part of the pool so the water rose just above her breast. “Josie, would you look? Cooper has been watching us.”

  Josie, more forward than Jessie, did not back into the deep water. She, in fact, stepped forward until her entire chest rose out of the pool. Her breasts were pert, like ripe young melons. Taking her sister’s lead, Jessie stepped forward. “Do you like what you see, Coop?”

  “What’s not to like?” he answered.

  The girls whispered to one another and then ducked under the water. They then seemed to swirl around and resurface. This time Cooper stood transfixed by the nude tempting beauties.

  “Can you tell who is who?” one of the twins asked.

  “Sure,” Cooper replied. “You have a freckle on the inside of your left breast,” he said, pointing to Josie.

  “My, you are observant,” Josie said.

  “Would you like to see more?” Jessie asked, taking a bold step forward so that the pool water was now below her waist.

  Smiling, Cooper didn’t reply. He watched as little rivulets of water ran down their bodies and drops cascaded down and off their breasts. Damn, they are tempting hussies, he thought.

  “Oh, he wants to come in,” Jessie said. “Look at his breeches. I do believe we’ve excited him, Josie.”

  “I think you are right, sister. Wouldn’t you enjoy jumping in with us, Coop?”

  Before he could reply, Jessie ducked down into the water pulling a startled Josie with her, the smiles gone from their faces. Cooper heard the footsteps on the flagstones just before a hand gripped his shoulder and snatched him around.

  WHAP…a sudden pain shot through him as he was struck across the face and cheek by a riding crop. Warm blood rushed to the surface and ran down his face, dripping on his shirt and pants. Reflex action caused his hand to dive to the small sword at his side. He then recognized his uncle.

  “Is this the way you repay my kindness and generosity?” Sir Lawrence shouted. “You sneak up and spy on the girls while they are bathing.”

  “I was not spying. I was talking to them,” Cooper said.

  “You were watching them, hoping you would get a glimpse of their nakedness.”

  “I could see nothing, nor attempted to see anything. I mentioned that once they had finished, Phillip, Jean-Paul, and myself might want to get into the pool.” Damn, Cooper thought to himself, how quickly the lie slid off his tongue in his attempt to protect the twins.

  “If only I could believe that,” Sir Lawrence said, seemingly about to waiver, and then suddenly his anger returned. “You lie,” he shouted, rage in his voice again. “You were seen spying on the girls.”

  “That’s a lie, Uncle, and if someone dares to say otherwise let him face me. We’ll let our blades show who is the liar.”

  Sir Lawrence’s facial expressions changed suddenly from rage to fear. “Go to your room, Cooper. I will think this over and we’ll discuss it in the morning.”

  Cooper walked back down the flagstone pathway only to be met by his mother and Jean-Paul. The wound to his face was throbbing badly and he felt faint now that his anger and temper had diminished. Seeing the cut dripping blood on Cooper’s face, Jean-Paul rushed back for a towel. Cooper walked a few more steps with his mother, Ann, supporting him. He then slumped down in a yard chair.

  Jean-Paul quickly returned and blotted the wound with the towel. “You’ve been cut to the bone, Cooper. You’ll need sewing up.”

  His mother gasped at Jean-Paul’s words; she rose and kissed Cooper on the forehead. “I will send for the surgeon.”

  As she entered the house, Jean-Paul looked at his pupil. There seemed to be an inner conflict for a few moments. When he’d settled it for himself, Jean-Paul spoke but in a hushed voice, “It was Phillip. He watched you go down the path and then he said, ‘There goes Cooper. He’s going down to play with those sluts of father’s. I wonder what father would do if he knew.’ Phillip then left.”

  “I figured something like that had happened. He’ll get his, I’ll run him through.”

  “No, M’sieur that you cannot do.”

  “Humph! I can and I will. It will have to be the right time and place. I cannot do anything to jeopardize mother’s situation. But the day will come, I swear it. Phillip will feel my vengeance.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  It was New Years Day. The year, 1810, had just begun and so had a new life for Cooper Cain. He had spent Christmas, not at his uncle’s estate as he had for as long as he could remember, but at Scolfes, a fine inn in Portsmouth. His mother had been with him as had Jean-Paul. The twins had even stopped in for a hurried visit. The flat of rooms could not have been cheap. Cooper was sure it had been Jean-Paul who had paid for them.

  In the weeks that had followed the incident at the pool with his uncle, several things had taken place. His uncle had decided he would be sent to Antigua to work either in the clearing house, or if he preferred he could learn agriculture and farming on his uncle’s sugar cane plantation. His mother argued that by rights the plantation should be Cooper’s as his inheritance from his father. His uncle argued that when Cooper’s father had died, the debt owed on the plantation far exceeded its worth and it was only the Finylson stewardship that had kept it in the family. However, should the debt be repaid with the appropriate interest the plantation would be returned to the Cain’s ownership.

  Jean-Paul had called his uncle to task about the treatment of Cooper based on unfounded accusations. Sir Lawrence was quick to point out the accusations were not unfounded, as Phillip was an eyewitness. Besides, Jean-Paul was an employee and it was not his place to pry into private family matters. Jean-Paul pulled himself erect and said, “When my most prized pupil is so wrongly accused, it does involve me.” He also stated he found Phillip completely without honor and that were he not a guest in Sir Lawrence’s home he would demand satisfaction. This sent a bolt of fear through Sir Lawrence. He turned pale and tried to find something to say…to respond. But Jean-Paul held up his hand to silence him and continued, “In regards to employment, M’sieur, be assured that the agreement to teach your son the manly art of swordsmanship is now terminated.”

  Jean-Paul had called upon Cooper’s mother and offered her his support, relating that she need not dwell in her brother’s home a minute longer. She agreed to go to Portsmouth with Jean-Paul and Cooper, and await one of Lord Finylson’s ships that would transport Cooper to Antigua. Once the ship arrived, the captain let it be known his lordship had said Cooper would be expected to work and pay for his passage.

  “Never!” Jean-Paul bellowed, followed by several words in French that neither Cooper nor his mother understood. However, it was apparent that the captain did. After a few minutes, it was agreed that Cooper would be a passenger who would travel in first class. Jean-Paul paid for the ticket and made it plain that should he not hear from Cooper that all was well, then the captain would regret his treachery. The captain assured Jean-Paul that word had gotten out about the incident and while everyone liked Cooper, no one agreed with Sir Lawrence’
s actions.

  Jean-Paul could only smile in regards to the comment about ‘the word had gotten out.’ All of Sir Lawrence’s servants, none of whom liked Phillip, had been quick to spread the word to other servants. Those servants were quick to spread the rumors to their lords and mistresses. On occasion, a coin in the hand here and there expedited the spreading of the incident. When asked personally, Jean-Paul was polite and correct in his refusal to discuss such matters. It was enough he decided, he could not continue in a place where honor was not held in the highest esteem. That was answer enough to those who asked.

  Sir Lawrence had sworn to ruin Jean-Paul if he left Finylson manor. To this, the master swordsman smiled and patting his blade, hissed, “Surely no one could be so foolish.” The requests for his teaching grew, rather than the opposite. Now he was considering opening a school. The only decision was where to locate it.

  After several days in Portsmouth, Cooper had noticed that Jean-Paul had stopped calling his mother, ‘my lady.’ It was now Ann and Jean-Paul. At first, Cooper felt it was amusing and then realized his father had been dead since he was ten years old. He was now eighteen. During that time his mother had had little more than polite conversation with men. He found himself wishing she’d reconsider staying at Finylson manor. Jean-Paul would not only be a good provider, but also a good husband. He’d be nothing like Cooper’s father, who had been a rake and a gambler; he’d been killed in a duel. It was said he was drunk at the time, and he’d called a man out for cheating. Later it was proven that he was right…but being dead right didn’t help.

  Sir Lawrence had been ready to take in his widowed sister and her son. With his own wife dying, Ann could raise the boys and the twins while she lived a life she’d been accustomed to until she’d married Cooper’s father. However, as years passed Phillip had become more and more jealous of Cooper. He was everything that Phillip was not. Phillip could see that his father admired his nephew more than his own son. Now that Cooper was being sent away he’d not have to compete for his father’s attention anymore.