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Back Cardinal Black Save as PDF
Chapters (44)
  1. Title Page
  2. One: Into the Storm
  3. One
  4. Two
  5. Three
  6. Four
  7. Five
  8. Six
  9. Seven
  10. Two: London Calling
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Three: The Malignant Seven
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Four: Squirrels and Cats
  29. Twenty-Four
  30. Twenty-Five
  31. Twenty-Six
  32. Twenty-Seven
  33. Twenty-Eight
  34. Twenty-Nine
  35. Thirty
  36. Thirty-One
  37. Thirty-Two
  38. Five: Revelation
  39. Thirty-Three
  40. Thirty-Four
  41. Thirty-Five
  42. Thirty-Six
  43. Thirty-Seven
  44. About the Author

A hard fist with plenty of strength behind it struck Matthew’s left shoulder and nearly broke his grip, but the heavy polar bear coat took most of the impact. The second blow that grazed his jaw sent stars flying through his head. He hung on as the pistol came up out of Bogen’s cloak like a cobra and also like that deadly reptile swayed back and forth, Bogen trying to get a bead on Matthew and at the same time to secure his finger on the trigger.

They grappled at close quarters in the coach. Bogen got his hand under Matthew’s jaw and shoved his head back with a force that sent spears of pain through his skull, and then Matthew twisted around and slammed an elbow into Bogen’s face. The pistol came loose and fell to the floor. When Matthew went for it Bogen got an arm around his throat from behind and starting choking him, all the time making an unintelligible wheezing noise as if his lungs were laboring for air. Matthew shot an elbow into Bogen’s ribs, which did absolutely no good. He kicked out again, this time against the seat before him, and drove both himself and the bodyguard crashing backward.

“What’s goin’ on in there?” Matthew heard one of the drivers shout, the voice muffled by the wind. Bogen reached up to open the sliding viewslit between the drivers and the coach’s interior but his arm was stopped when Matthew hit him in the face once, twice and again in rapid succession.

The bloodied Bogen bore down on Matthew with ferocious strength and crushed him to the floor. The man’s hands clamped to his throat and began to squeeze. Matthew hammered at Bogen’s sides but it was like beating on solid stone.

He heard the noise of the viewslit sliding back from the other side. “Christ, they’re fightin’!” one of the men cried out. “Pull the horses up!”

Bogen was strangling Matthew, who felt the blood pounding in his face and his lifeforce ebbing by the second. Matthew got a hand up and tried to push at Bogen’s chest but again it was a shove against heavy stone.

Then Bogen’s wheezing turned into a gurgling noise, he suddenly let go of Matthew’s throat to grasp at his own, his small piggish eyes were bloodshot and his mouth dripped ruddy foam. He began to thrash like a man gone mad, kicking at the air and clawing at his throat, and through his own considerable distress Matthew realized that Bogen was strangling on the teeth that must’ve gone down into his windpipe.

The coach had stopped. In a few seconds one or both of the drivers would be upon him, and one might have that musket in hand.