The Fourth Life of Sean Donoghue by Trish Hanan (ebook reader for manga .txt) 📖

told them to watch the Captain who was Ennish and should be alright but they had machetes and if he gave them a problem to just take over the ship and go to Topanga themselves.
“You don’t have to take any shit from white men again, you are just as free as they are,” he informed them and they grinned. They hugged him and the ship sailed.
The Malweenahs took their rifles and their mules and went home. Sean and his men took a different trail home; they didn’t want to run into any soldiers looking for the escaped slaves.
“We did a good thing here, Granddad,” Lonnie said with satisfaction in his voice. Sean nodded.
“We sure did, we freed some slaves, that’s always a good thing, Grandson,” he told him and they all smiled all the way home.
Sean decided to write a scathing editorial about the Hamish keeping the Topangans prisoners and slaves in Anamylia while their country was free. He didn’t pull any punches and made the evil bastards the evil bastards they were. Then he wrote one about the way they treated their peasants and how wrong it was for people to own people. He didn’t pull any punches there either. And then he wrote a third about the unjust taxes and the unfairness of them. With this editorial he included a little cartoon of a very large lady, obviously a Hamish noble sitting on a pile of poor common men, squashing them to death. The names of the men were the names of the six Hamish territories, Maryland, Pembroke, New Lennox, North West and St. Charles, he wrote them quite clearly so no one would miss the point. Another lady, this one tall and slender with the name of the Ennish territory, Andalusia, was standing on the side, pointing her finger at the Hamish lady and laughing at her.
Sean showed the editorials to Ryan and Danny and they had a good laugh over the cartoon.
“I didn’t know you could draw this well, Granddad,” Danny exclaimed when he saw the drawing. Sean shrugged.
I didn’t either until I started drawing her, then it came easy,” he remarked. Ryan grinned.
“She kind of looks like Lady Tabby,” he commented and Sean took another look at the drawing. Then he grinned.
“She kind of does now that I look at her again,” he said and laughed. Then they had to tell Danny about Lady Tabby and her sad ending. Danny sighed and looked at the drawing.
“Well, that’s what she got for raping little girls the fat bitch,” was his only comment. All the men agreed. Annie thought Sean was going to get into trouble for his editorials and his cartoon, especially since he signed it S.D. He only shrugged.
“How is the Hamish going to know that S.D. stands for Sean Donoghue?” he asked her with a mischievous grin. She glared at him.
“They have ways of finding these things out, you idiot man, trust my words, they’ll find out,” she predicted. Sean waved her aside and made his way to Jamestown alone. The brothers were awaiting the arrival of Danny’s latest great grandchild and didn’t want to miss him or her. Sean just grinned and kissed them and took Lonnie and Todd with him. The two men wanted to see Jamestown and wanted to protect Sean although the two threats against him had mysteriously died. But Sean enjoyed the company and the three talked while they rode. And they took a wagon with them, Sean wanted to buy some lead goods, he had figured out that was what the slugs were made out of and you couldn’t have enough slugs for the rifles.
Once in Jamestown the three checked into an inn and took a hot soak and shaved, got a hot meal and changed into fresh clothes, the regular routine that never changed, at least for Sean. Then they went off searching for lead products. They bought a lot of candlesticks and cups and bowls and stuff, Sean figured pewter would do nicely also. This took up a few days and then he left the men to it and one drizzly day he made his way over to the Chronicle and the editorial desk.
“These are very well written, however, highly flammable, the Hamish aren’t going to like these at all, are you sure you don’t want to put your name on them?” the editor asked him with a sly grin. Sean grinned back.
“I’ve already got a Hamish Major accused me of smuggling, I don’t need any more Hamish crawling up my arse but thank you anyway,” he told him wryly. The editor chuckled.
“I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you, even if you were smuggling, the Hamish couldn’t find their own asses with both hands,” he remarked dourly. Both men laughed. Then the man got curious.
“What is it that the Hamish think you’re smuggling?” he leaned forward to whisper his question. Sean thought this might the opportunity to meet some interesting people if this man knew any. Newspaper offices were where things sometimes got started. And the Chronicle was famous for their dislike of the Hamish and their practices. So he leaned forward to give the man an answer.
“Rifles,” he whispered back and the man’s eyes got wider. Sean grinned. “You know those five thousand rifles that disappeared from the Giovanni warehouse on Pine Street between Penrose and Broom Streets?” he asked him and the editor nodded. Sean continued. “Well, this Hamish Major thinks I went to Ennis and stole them from the warehouse before the Hamish army could get their little fingers on them, so now he says I can’t leave the country without his permission.” The editor looked shocked.
“But Anamylia is a free country, its citizens are free to travel anywhere they want, the Hamish can’t prevent you from traveling to Ennis if you want to,” he protested. Sean nodded.
“That’s what I told Major Steinbeck but he insists that I need his permission to leave the country,” Sean informed him and the editor looked angry.
“The Hamish are overstepping their authority too often these days,” he grumbled and assured Sean that his letters would be in the next edition of the paper, which would be out in two days. Sean paid what was due and left but he turned around for one final comment.
“I’ll be heading up the street to that nice coffee shop for some coffee and a sandwich if you have any trouble reading my writing and need to contact me,” he informed him and the editor nodded. Sean left and went up the street. If the man had any connections and if they were interested in ‘a concern citizen’ as he had signed his editorials, then now they knew where to get in touch with him. If not, maybe he would buy a printing press and start printing his own papers and passing them around and see who that brought up. Sean was tired of just smuggling goods onto the Ridge, he wanted to get rid of the Hamish before they got rifles and things could get really ugly. Already he could see the rifles leading to bigger and deadlier weapons. He himself was thinking of something that could fire big balls at ships to sink them. He had half an idea that was slowly turning into a whole one. That was what this trip was for also; he was going to get a lot of steel sheeting to make his barrel type object.
Sean sat in The Coffee Bean and ordered a pot of coffee and a ham and cheese sandwich and was just about finished with it and about to give up anyone joining him when he became aware of a group of men staring at him from across the room. He quickly ordered another pot of coffee and a piece of apple pie with that new thing on it, vanilla ice cream. The Ennis were really clever people, Sean thought to himself when the waitress brought it and he took one bite of the flavorful cold treat. He was going to have to stop at Portsmyth on the way home and try to pick up some of these machines. If not well, he was going to have to break down and pay the tax on one of the damned things, Ryan, Danny and Annie just had to taste this stuff. That’s where the real coin was, not in gold or diamonds or emeralds, but in the little purple power crystals that ran all of the machines the Ennish were inventing. And who knew what they were going to be inventing next. Sean was contemplating this when the men approached him. He glanced up and smiled. One of the men, the youngest of them, smiled back. The others just pulled up chairs and sat down. One of them, a man in his late thirties, early forties, glanced at the ice cream on Sean’s plate and smiled.
“Vanilla ice cream; a marvelous thing; the Ennish have given us don’t you think young man?” he asked. Sean nodded and took another bite.
“I was just thinking I just might have to pay the damned tax on one of those machines after all, that is, if I can’t persuade a ship Captain to overlook the tax,” Sean said with a sly smile. All of the men smiled back at him.
“Do you do that a lot, get a Captain to overlook the tax?” one of the men, a man about the same age, with blonde hair asked oh-so-casually. Sean shrugged.
“I find the Hamish tax laws a bit unjust and too confining for the average Anamylian,” he informed them just as casually. “There are ways of avoiding them if one is careful enough and if you have friends who are willing to help you.” The leader of the group nodded. He had a strong face and intelligent eyes.
“And you have such friends?” he asked softly. Sean nodded.
“A man is a very lonely man if he hasn’t got a few friends who are willing to stand with him against tyranny,” he said firmly. They all nodded.
“Our friend at the Chronicle tells us that you might be the man to talk to about rifles,” one of the men asked. Sean held up his hand.
“This really isn’t the place to be having that conversation, it’s a wee bit too public, maybe we should go someplace else,” he suggested. The leader nodded.
“Do you know Henderson’s Bookshop on Jessup Street?” he asked. Sean nodded. Talk about a blast from the past.
“Meet us there in an hour,” the man ordered and Sean nodded once again. The men left and Sean enjoyed his pie and ice cream which had melted a bit but was good anyway. And of course when he left the coffee shop they had him followed. It was the young one who had smiled at him at first. He was easy to spot, he wasn’t very clever. But Sean just met his two grandsons, he called them all grandsons now, all those great-greats were too hard to figure out. He told Lonnie and Todd he had a meeting to go to and sent them back to the inn to wait for him. They agreed; they were tired of buying lead and pewter knick-knacks.
Then Sean walked to Jessup Street and Henderson’s looked the same. He felt his heart stir up a