That had been weeks ago, and now they were within hours of docking and Alex was looking forward to seeing his homeland again.
* * *
The town of New Sussex was booming with business. There was the noise of the ships docking, of people shouting and hawking wares, of arguments. And there were the odors of dead fish and unwashed people, mixed with clean, pure sea air.
Nick stretched his big body and yawned, the sun reflecting off the gold embroidery of his jacket. “You are welcome to stay with my cousin. He has nothing much to do and he will be glad of the diversion of you.”
“Thanks just the same but I think I’ll start home,” Alex answered. “I’m anxious to see my father again and to see what mischief my sister has gotten herself into.”
They parted at the dock, Alex carrying only one bag across his shoulder. First he planned to purchase a horse and then a new suit of clothes. Everything he owned had gone down in Italy and after he’d met Nick, he’d worn nothing but the comfortable, baggy pants and shirt of seaman’s gear.
“Here! Watch that!” a British soldier, one of a group of six, yelled at Alex. “Scum like you should look out for your betters.”
Alex had no time to defend himself before one of the men pushed him from behind. The bag Alex carried fell forward just as the soldier pushed him again. Alex fell face down into the dirt, his ears ringing with laughter as he spit out dirt and debris.
He was on his feet in seconds and starting for the group of soldiers who’d already turned their backs when a strong hand stopped him. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”
Alex was so angry that at first he couldn’t focus on the sailor beside him.
“They have the right, and you’ll only get into more trouble if you go after them.”
“What do you mean they have the right?” Alex said through his teeth. Now that he was upright, his senses were returning to him. There were six of them and one of him.
“They’re soldiers of His Majesty and they have every right to do what they want. You’ll get yourself thrown in jail if you fool with the likes of them.” When Alex made no reply, the sailor shrugged and kept on walking.
Alex, after a moment of glaring at the soldiers’ backs, reshouldered his bag and kept walking. He tried to return his thoughts to clean clothes and a good horse between his legs.
As he passed a tavern, he caught a whiff of fish chowder and realized he was hungry. Within minutes, he was seated at a dirty table and eating savory stew from a deep wooden bowl, remembering meals with Nick. They had eaten with gold utensils off porcelain plates so thin they were transparent.
He wasn’t prepared when he felt the sharp tip of a sword at his throat. He looked up to see the same soldier who’d pushed him into the dirt moments before.
“So here is our little sailor again,” the man taunted. “I thought you’d be long gone by now.” The young soldier’s face changed from teasing to serious. “Get up. This is our table.”
Alex’s hands moved slowly toward the underside of the table. He didn’t have a weapon on him, but he had skill and speed. Before the soldiers knew what was happening, Alex sent the table toward them, knocking the first man down and landing so heavily on his leg that he screamed in pain. The other five attacked Alex at once.
He managed to knock two of them out, then grabbed the handle of the heavy pot hanging over the fire. It burned his hands, but it also burned the entire midsection of the man he tossed it to. He was just about to bring a chair down on the head of the fifth man when the innkeeper hit Alex over the head with a tankard.
Alex sank to the floor gracefully.
* * *
A bucket of cold, dirty water was splashed on Alex’s face, and he came to painfully. His head was roaring and it was difficult to open his eyes. Based upon the smell of the place, he was sure he was in hell.
“Get up. You’re free,” came a gruff voice as Alex tried to sit up. He managed to open one eye but closed it again against the dazzle.
“Alex,” came a voice he recognized as being Nick’s. “I came to get you out of this filthy place, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to carry you. Get up and follow me.”
The dazzle had been the several pounds of gold embroidery on Nick’s uniform. Alex realized his friend was wearing one of the several uniforms he used whenever he wanted something from someone. Nick had said that people the world over were impressed with the gaudiness of the Russian uniforms and it got him what he wanted. Alex also knew that Nick wasn’t about to dirty that uniform by giving his friend a hand.
In spite of the fact that Alex’s head was about to fall off his shoulders, he managed to hold it on and stand up. He was beginning to see that he was in a jail, a filthy place with ancient straw on the stone floor and heaven knew what in the corners. The wall he touched was cold and slimy and the slime coated his hands.
Somehow, he managed to follow Nick’s perfectly straight back out of the building and into the fading daylight. A magnificent carriage and equally magnificent horses awaited them. One of Nick’s servants helped Alex into the carriage.
Alex was hardly seated when Nick began raging at him.
“Did you know that they planned to hang you in the morning?” he growled. “I only heard about you by chance. Some old sailor saw you get off my ship and then get knocked around by those soldiers. He saw you kick the table over on one of them. Did you know you broke his leg? He may lose it. And you burned one of them and a third one still hasn’t waked up after you bashed him. Alex, a person in your station in life can’t do that sort of thing.”
Alex raised an eyebrow at that statement. No doubt Nick, in his station in life, would have every