Sons of Liberty by Christopher G. Nuttall Page B

necessary, although she knew there was no way she could make it from Britain to America. Getting from Oxford to London during the Swing had almost killed her. “How do we get onto the deck.”

    “ This way,” Jackson said. “We have to stay out of the way.”

    They clambered up a wooden staircase and onto a battlement-like structure. A handful of other passengers were already there - Gwen smiled as she recognised Irene and Raechel - watched by a couple of sailors. They didn't seem happy to be near the passengers, Gwen noted, even though Raechel wasn't the only beautiful girl among them. But then, if she recalled correctly, sailors thought that a woman onboard ship was bad luck. She snorted at the thought - how could colonies be established without women? - and then turned her attention to London. The remainder of the city was slipping into the distance at incredible speed.

    “ The Duke of India is one of the fastest ships in the fleet,” Jackson commented. He stood next to her, just a little closer than was companionable. “The voyage to America will take place in record time.”

    Gwen nodded, unwilling to look away from the city as it shrank in the distance. The deck was beginning to heave under her feet now, the ship rising and falling as she cleaved her way through increasingly choppy water. She turned her attention to the forts lining the river banks - the French would be in for a nasty surprise, if they ever dared to raid the Thames - and smiled coldly as she saw a pair of sorcerers hanging in the air above them. London - and England - would be safe while she was gone.

    “ Tell me something,” Jackson said. The air was growing colder, even though it was midsummer. A number of passengers were already heading back below decks, as if it would be warmer underneath. “What do you do when you’re not the Royal Sorceress?”

    “ I’m always the Royal Sorceress,” Gwen said. She’d had no end of invitations to balls of one kind or another, but she’d declined most of them. The only one she’d gone to had been with Sir Charles and that had ended badly. “I don’t get time off.”

    Jackson gave her an odd look. “There’s no one you can leave in charge, even for a few short hours?”

    Gwen shook her head, wordlessly. A man could take time off without it being held against him, but a woman taking time off was considered a sign of weakness. A holiday? There was no way she could take leave without creating the impression that the Royal Sorcerers Corps could get along just fine without her. Who knew what the departmental heads would get up to, if she wasn't keeping a sharp eye on them? It was hard enough leaving Sir James in command while she headed to America ...

    “ That’s not right,” Jackson said. “You need time to relax.”

    “ Duty comes first,” Gwen said. “And magic problems can be disastrous if they’re allowed to blossom out of control.”

    “ Then take the opportunity to enjoy this voyage and relax,” Jackson said. “That’s what I’m going to do.”

    Gwen nodded. The last report from America had made it clear that Franco-Spanish forces were mustering in New Orleans, their northernmost outpost. It wouldn't be long before the enemy advanced north, into territory dominated by slave plantations ... plantations worked by slaves who would no doubt turn on their masters the moment the French made their appearance. And without magical support, the defenders would be badly hampered. She had very little time to relax ...

    ... But, at the same time, there was nothing she could do until she reached New York.

    “ I will,” she said. He’d moved a step or two closer to her while she’d been thinking. “And maybe I’ll find something else to do.”

    “ Take up chess,” Jackson advised. “It’s good for the mind.”

    They stood together until a sailor appeared and informed them that Captain Bligh was waiting for them in the officers mess. Jackson grinned at her, then led the