Sons of Liberty by Christopher G. Nuttall

wonder the Royal Navy had given him command of one of the largest hybrid vessels in the fleet. Behind him, a pair of men stood, both wearing army uniforms. She couldn't help thinking that they could easily have passed for Major Shaw’s twins, although the leader was supposed to be more experienced and competent. She’d read his file too.

    “ Thank you, Captain,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”

    “ We will be sailing with the evening tide,” Bligh informed her. “Colonel Jackson will escort you to your cabin, if you don’t mind. Once we are underway, I will be hosting a small dinner in my cabin. I trust you will be attending?”

    “ Of course,” Gwen said. She might find herself seasick, but she could wait to make her excuses until she knew she was unable to attend. “Where do you want me?”

    “ I would prefer that you stayed in your cabin until we were firmly underway, My Lady,” Captain Bligh said. He sounded firm, but there was a faint undercurrent of concern in his words. “The crew have much work to do.”

    “ I understand,” Gwen said. She doubted she’d be happy with a handful of inexperienced landlubbers running around too. “I’ll wait until I’m called.”

    Captain Bligh looked relieved. “Your luggage has already been stowed away,” he informed her. “Colonel?”

    Gwen studied Colonel Jackson as he stepped forward, his comrade saluting sharply and then strolling away. Up close, she had to admit that Jackson didn't look that much like Major Shaw, although they did have some features in common. Jackson definitely had more experience, she noted, judging from the campaign ribbons on his chest. And he wouldn’t have been put in command of the reinforcements if there had been doubts about his competence.

    “ It’s a great pleasure to meet you, My Lady,” Colonel Jackson said. He didn't offer to shake hands, but Gwen wasn’t surprised or offended. Men weren't supposed to shake hands with women, after all. “I was hoping to hear about your time in Russia personally.”

    “ It was an adventure,” Gwen agreed. She wasn't sure she wanted to talk about it, but she doubted she had a choice. Jackson hadn't been in London during the Swing. If he encountered the undead, he was likely to underestimate them badly. “The Tsar went mad.”

    She allowed Jackson to lead her down a ladder and along a long wooden corridor until they reached her cabin. Inside, there was no light, save for a single oil lantern hanging from the ceiling. Gwen hesitated, then generated a light globe of her own, wondering just how Jackson would respond to it. His eyes went wide in surprise, but otherwise he showed no reaction at all. He’d probably seen a great deal of magic during his time in the army.

    “ It’s one of the largest cabins on the ship,” Jackson said, apologetically. “But I’m afraid there are no portholes ...”

    “ It doesn't matter,” Gwen assured him. The semi-ironclad’s designers hadn't dared include windows, knowing they would be nothing more than cracks in the ship’s armour. “There’s enough room for me.”

    “ Captain Bligh says we can probably go up on deck once the ship is underway,” Jackson assured her. “I’d go mad if I had to stay in this pokey cabin for more than a few hours.”

    Gwen looked around. The cabin wasn't particularly large, but it was clean, although a faint smell she didn't care to identify hung in the air. A chamberpot hung from one of the bulkheads, beside a bucket of clean water. Bathing was going to be difficult, even though she could use magic to heat the water. One of her trunks sat on the deck, the others - as Captain Bligh had said - would be stowed away in the hold. She hoped she wouldn't need anything from them. Three weeks, perhaps longer ... she could endure. She’d endured worse.

    “ I should be fine,” she said. She cocked her head, wondering if he was flirting with her. It showed incredible nerve, if he was. Even if she