Free Iron Horsemen by Brad R. Cook Page A

popped, spraying a cloud of black dust through the sky.
    Hunter smiled. “I filled them with soot.”
    The captain chuckled, “Nice shot, kid!” He turned to Genevieve. “Your turn, let’s see if the little lady can shoot.”
    Genevieve walked over and took the rifle from me. She opened the breach, popped the shell out and took another cartridge from Hunter. Once loaded she raised the rifle and in a determined voice said, “Pull.” Ignatius and Hunter nodded to each other.
    Hunter loaded the next balloon and flung it into the air. Genevieve waited, letting it drift away and then fired. She handed the rifle back to Hunter. Captain Baldarich and I went to the door and looked out. A puff of black hung in the sky and the captain laughed.
    As they turned around, she stood with her hand on her hip, “As I said, my father trained me—in skeet and sword.”
    Next the captain had Mr. Singh test us. Genevieve used the saber she’d brought with her. It was beautiful with a silver hilt and an oval piece of lapis lazuli in the pommel. She and Mr. Singh fought in the enclosed space, and I watched in awe. I’d never seen two better swordsmen.
    The captain handed me a cutlass with a bronze hilt and leather wrapped handle.
    Mr. Singh popped it out of my hand with the first move and it clattered against the metal planking.
    I picked it up and tried to surprise the Indian warrior, but Mr. Singh parried it aside and slapped me on the back. After several more attempts, I finally handed the sword over to Mr. Singh.
    â€œI think I need more work on the sword. Can I go back to shooting things?” I grabbed the black club from my bag. Grooves cut into the cold steel handle hid the mechanics of the club. “Maybe this would help?”
    Captain Baldarich stood up and walked over. “Where’d you get a Thumper, kid?”
    â€œI took it off one of the guys who kidnapped my father.” I looked at it. “Why do they call it a Thumper?”
    â€œHere.” The captain took the club and unhinged the handle. “You’re in luck, I took this from a guy a week ago. It’s a special kind of percussion cap.” He slipped it into the pommel and closed the breach. “Here you go kid, point this out the door and I’ll show you.”
    I took the Thumper, pointed it out the door and Hunter flung a balloon. As it crossed my aim, I pushed the button and the cap inside ignited. The thick end of the club slid forward like a piston. A concussive force blew out the end, flew through the air and shattered the balloon. The recoil knocked me into the railing. My wide, excited eyes drifted from the small dark cloud to the club. I unhinged the breach and the smoldering brass cap fell to the deck.
    â€œWow.” I hurt in three places but didn’t care.
    The captain chuckled. “Just imagine if you hit the bad guy.”

CHAPTER 11
THE PILLARS OF HERCULES
    I sat in the sun’s warm glow as it poured through the port window, studying the Thumper held firm in my hand. I used the leather strapping wrapped around me to secure a leather holster I’d made to my right leg. I checked to make certain it laid flat. I was having more fun than I’d had in years, but thoughts of my father’s captivity brought me out of the clouds.
    Genevieve strolled up and sat on the same ledge. I holstered the club and liked feeling its weight pulling at my side. Pushing my hair back I said, “You’re an amazing fighter. Why did your father train you so well?”
    As I mentioned her father, her face sank. I kicked myself for mentioning him because I’d just been struck by the same pain and didn’t like passing it along to her.
    She steeled herself and rose to meet my gaze. “For generations, men in my family have been knights of the crown. My grandfather said we’re related to St. George the Dragon Slayer. Everyone—men and women—must be able to