Free Highest Stakes by Emery Lee

taught me to look for in all horseflesh, Captain—soundness, sense, swiftness, stamina, and strength."
      "Indeed desirable qualities…" The captain stepped back and circled around, scrutinizing the stocky gelding from every possible angle before snorting. "You actually believe this animal a paragon of the species?"
      The captain's remark, traveling like wildfire through the ranks, was received with muffled chortles and coughs.
      "Indeed I do. I'm no novice of horseflesh, Captain. On the contrary, I am well acquainted with this animal and confident in his abilities. He has demonstrated exceptional heart and stamina."
      Now more irked than amused by the cockiness of this green whelp, the captain pressed. "And what of your skill, Devington? It would seem that only one of exceptional ability could mount such an exceptional steed."
      "I hold my own, sir," he replied with quiet confidence.
      "Hold your own with whom, Trooper? This is not the annual plowshare pull or the cart race of the county fair."
      Trooper Devington's cheeks burned under the mockery. "Again, with due respect, sir, I can ride with the best of 'em."
      "So you say, Devington, so you say… but are you willing to wager your career on it?"
      Taken aback by the blatant challenge, Trooper Devington was at a loss to respond.
      "Perhaps you didn't hear me, Devington," the captain repeated, his voice echoing through the ranks. "Are you willing to wager your career on that horse?"
      "I'm not a gambling man, Captain."
      "Not a gambler, you say, but indeed a braggart."
      The captain addressed the full line of troopers in a booming voice. "There is no room in the Horse Guard for any whose words surpass their deeds." Addressing the trooper again, he commanded, "You may now prove your words, or dismount and return that wretched beast to your plowshare."
      His future drifting completely out of reach, Devington blurted, "I accept any challenge of riding skill that you make, Captain."
      "Do you now, Devington?" He paused. "I suppose you to be an expert swordsman, as well?"
      "That would be quite an erroneous assumption, sir. I claim no experience or skill with either sword or pistol."
      The trooper to Robert's right sniggered. The captain took mental note of him.
      "No martial skill, you say? Yet you chose a military career?"
      "These are skills I seek to acquire under your expert tutelage, Captain," he responded with sufficient humility to appease the officer, who now directed his attention to the sniggering trooper on Devington's right.
      "Name, Trooper," he commanded.
      "Prescott. George Prescott of the Derbyshire Prescotts," he replied smugly.
      "Sir!" Drake barked. "I am your commanding officer, Prescott, and am to be addressed at all times as 'sir,' or better yet, as 'Captain.'"
      Placing his arms behind his back, the captain paced down the ranks, speaking in an ominous voice. "You appeared prodigiously amused at Trooper Devington's inexperience with weaponry a moment ago, Prescott."
      "He is ill-prepared for the Horse Guard, Captain."
      "Indeed, it would appear so," the captain agreed. "And are you better prepared, Prescott?"
      "I have studied, Captain, under the finest instructors of both horse and sword. My fencing master was a student of Sir William Hope."
      "A student of Sir William Hope, you say? Then you are a virtual one-man army, to be certain. Perhaps we should send you to wage war single-handedly with the French, Prescott? The Maison du Roi will assuredly quake in their boots."
    This was again met with muffled guffaws from the ranks.
      "I, for one, have no fear of embarrassing myself," Prescott retorted, eyeing Devington with open disdain.
      Raising his hands and looking about in mock wonderment, the captain stated to the assemblage, "I feel yet another challenge in the air."
      He resumed his pacing but this time slowly, pensively, thumb and forefinger to his chin. The past