Winter 1814 – Riding on a Wind of Screams

Billy’s face remained pale. “Captain Fury sails with the British,” he said. “The Mourning Dove trails their fleet. They may not know it but it, but he is there.”

Father refilled Billy’s beer. “We beat him once. We can beat him again.”

Billy looked at his feet. “We didn’t beat him, Red. We survived him. I’m an old man now. I’ve no wish to tempt fate twice.”