heard of before?
“Your grace, if I might—”
“Get out,” he snapped.
The man reared back, his mouth gaping open. “Now, see here—”
Radley focused on the man with all his considerable frustration. He didn’t know if this was a joke or a bizarre reality, but either way the man could not speak to him that way. He could not wax indignant, nor could he dare to look at him with such condescension in Radley’s own home.
“I said, get out. Now. If this is indeed truth, then I shall visit you on the morrow. And we shall see if the current Duke of Bucklynde will retain your services.”
“Retain! Morrow!” the elder man sputtered.
It was the younger Pelley who had the sense to quiet his outraged grandsire. “Of course, your grace. I’m sure this has been unsettling.”
“But—” continued the elder.
“When you are ready, we are willing to assist you.”
Radley was on the verge of telling them to go to the devil. But that, of course, was not appropriate, nor fair. They’d merely been delivering the news. They were not the cause of this total disruption to his life or his plans.
He didn’t bother seeing the men out. His mother was there to do that, with all her murmured promise to help her son through this awkward transition. Radley blocked her words from his thoughts lest he become furious with her.
Then ten minutes later, he pushed up from the chair. “I’m going to… the ship.” He’d almost said my ship, but that hadn’t been true even before the damned solicitors had delivered their news.
“But Radley! You have to—”
“Mother, I have to finish one life before I can start the next.”
He hadn’t accepted the reality of a new life, but whatever the future held, he still had responsibilities to Mr. Knopp. He would finish those first, then turn his face to whatever was in store in the future.
“And then,” he added in words too low for his mother to hear, “I’m going to get right, stinking drunk.”
Five
“Wake up! Yer late for watch!”
Radley sat bolt upright in his bunk and nearly knocked his head on the low wood paneling. He almost wished he had when his stomach roiled from the motion and his head pounded as if he had brained himself. Meanwhile, the bellowing continued, making everything worse with each syllable.
“Told you that would wake ’im. Come on lad, I’m over here. Cast up your accounts, and let’s get on with business.”
He cracked an eye, his legs already over the edge of the bunk. He was late for watch. He had to get moving.
Except… what watch? He focused as best he could, seeing two men before him. The first was his employer, Mr. Knopp, holding out a bucket.
His stomach heaved, but he didn’t blow, though it was a near thing. Instead, he shifted his attention to the second fellow. A workingman, by the looks of him, with a pleasant expression and a tankard of what had to be hot coffee. Radley lurched for that and nearly missed. It was only the other man’s swift reflexes that had him pressing the drink into his shaking fingers rather than spilling the precious brew all over the deck.
Then he took a long pull. The brew was scalding hot, but he barely noticed in the general misery of his brain and body. Lord, what had he done last night?
“Got yourself good and pissed last night, mate,” said Mr. Knopp jovially. Radley winced at the loud tone, but knew better than to speak. Nothing like adding to a sailor’s misery the morning after to set a captain to whistling. And even if Mr. Knopp hadn’t sailed in over a decade, there were still things that the man enjoyed.
Obviously.
Radley finished the coffee and mutely held out the tankard for more. The captain filled it from his flask and pressed it back at Radley, all but forcing him to drink. He swallowed greedily then nearly lost his stomach.
Water!
“Blahhhg,” he said on a choke. He wanted coffee. And failing that—ale.
“Quit yer moaning,” Mr. Knopp replied, his voice echoing loudly in
“Your grace, if I might—”
“Get out,” he snapped.
The man reared back, his mouth gaping open. “Now, see here—”
Radley focused on the man with all his considerable frustration. He didn’t know if this was a joke or a bizarre reality, but either way the man could not speak to him that way. He could not wax indignant, nor could he dare to look at him with such condescension in Radley’s own home.
“I said, get out. Now. If this is indeed truth, then I shall visit you on the morrow. And we shall see if the current Duke of Bucklynde will retain your services.”
“Retain! Morrow!” the elder man sputtered.
It was the younger Pelley who had the sense to quiet his outraged grandsire. “Of course, your grace. I’m sure this has been unsettling.”
“But—” continued the elder.
“When you are ready, we are willing to assist you.”
Radley was on the verge of telling them to go to the devil. But that, of course, was not appropriate, nor fair. They’d merely been delivering the news. They were not the cause of this total disruption to his life or his plans.
He didn’t bother seeing the men out. His mother was there to do that, with all her murmured promise to help her son through this awkward transition. Radley blocked her words from his thoughts lest he become furious with her.
Then ten minutes later, he pushed up from the chair. “I’m going to… the ship.” He’d almost said my ship, but that hadn’t been true even before the damned solicitors had delivered their news.
“But Radley! You have to—”
“Mother, I have to finish one life before I can start the next.”
He hadn’t accepted the reality of a new life, but whatever the future held, he still had responsibilities to Mr. Knopp. He would finish those first, then turn his face to whatever was in store in the future.
“And then,” he added in words too low for his mother to hear, “I’m going to get right, stinking drunk.”
Five
“Wake up! Yer late for watch!”
Radley sat bolt upright in his bunk and nearly knocked his head on the low wood paneling. He almost wished he had when his stomach roiled from the motion and his head pounded as if he had brained himself. Meanwhile, the bellowing continued, making everything worse with each syllable.
“Told you that would wake ’im. Come on lad, I’m over here. Cast up your accounts, and let’s get on with business.”
He cracked an eye, his legs already over the edge of the bunk. He was late for watch. He had to get moving.
Except… what watch? He focused as best he could, seeing two men before him. The first was his employer, Mr. Knopp, holding out a bucket.
His stomach heaved, but he didn’t blow, though it was a near thing. Instead, he shifted his attention to the second fellow. A workingman, by the looks of him, with a pleasant expression and a tankard of what had to be hot coffee. Radley lurched for that and nearly missed. It was only the other man’s swift reflexes that had him pressing the drink into his shaking fingers rather than spilling the precious brew all over the deck.
Then he took a long pull. The brew was scalding hot, but he barely noticed in the general misery of his brain and body. Lord, what had he done last night?
“Got yourself good and pissed last night, mate,” said Mr. Knopp jovially. Radley winced at the loud tone, but knew better than to speak. Nothing like adding to a sailor’s misery the morning after to set a captain to whistling. And even if Mr. Knopp hadn’t sailed in over a decade, there were still things that the man enjoyed.
Obviously.
Radley finished the coffee and mutely held out the tankard for more. The captain filled it from his flask and pressed it back at Radley, all but forcing him to drink. He swallowed greedily then nearly lost his stomach.
Water!
“Blahhhg,” he said on a choke. He wanted coffee. And failing that—ale.
“Quit yer moaning,” Mr. Knopp replied, his voice echoing loudly in
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