Castle of Fire

by Peter Greene

  Jonathan heard none of the exchange between Harrison and Spears. He busied himself with his task, making sure the guns on the portside main deck were secure. He moved quickly and carefully, starting with the aft guns. The Danielle had four on each side, tied down with heavy ropes and wooden blocks that held them in place. A loose gun on deck in turbulent seas could cause great damage to the ship, any crew members and certainly, there was a danger that the gun itself would crash through the rail and be lost. As the aft guns were secure, Jonathan checked the fore and also the complete starboard side, even though it had been assigned to Spears. Once he was certain they were properly secured, he took another run around the deck, as a secondary precaution.

  After a moment, Jonathan noticed that Spears had finally begun inspecting the starboard guns.

  I wonder, Jonathan said to himself, if Spears is angry with me, as I am also checking his side and my side as well. No matter. Never can be too much checking. One can’t be too sure!

  Finally finished, Jonathan retired to the lower decks to search for Sean. He found him with Garvey, securing guns with the instruction of Lane. Once finished, they all planned to settle in for the wild ride that was surely to come.

  “Not a big one, I can tell ya that!” Garvey said. “I’ve seen worse!”

  “It still makes me queasy, though,” Sean said, turning to see Jonathan.

  “Sean!” said Jonathan in alarm as he looked at his face. “What has happened to your eye?” Jonathan moved closer to inspect the bruise. It was black and blue.

  “Just an accident,” Sean whispered.

  “If Midshipman Spears can be considered an accident,” added Garvey.

  “Spears?” said Jonathan, his anger rising. “I have had it with that naughty pake! Lane! What do you know of this? Speak up!”

  “I-I know nothing!” said Lane defensively.

  “Not to worry, Jonathan, I can handle Spears,” assured Sean.

  “How? Will you strike him? An officer? I will not have him pushing anyone around! I will attend to him directly!” Jonathan ran to the top deck to confront Spears.

  The Captain and Lieutenant Holtz remained on deck with Watt, ever-present at the wheel, to handle the ship through the storm. The waves rose and fell, tossing the Danielle from crest to trough, but she sailed smartly and actually proved to be a fine rough-weather ship. A little lightning was about, nothing serious, though all knew that the wind could get up and damage the sails and the smaller crossbeams. As little sail was needed to propel the ship forward, the men were instructed to take in almost all.

  Suddenly, a horrible scraping sound was heard, as if a giant were dragging a huge metal contraption across the top deck. From below, the men could hear the moaning of something. Only the most experienced knew what it was. “Loose gun on main deck!” they called, and fear for their mates was upon them.

  Above, Walker and Holtz rushed forward, seeing one of the nine-pounders from the port side sliding across the slippery deck, headed for the foremast. The gun crashed into it, sending splinters flying in all directions.

  “Grab a rope!” called Walker as he ran forward. “Try to capture it!”

  Harrison appeared on deck just as Jonathan ascended the ladder. Seeing the issue, both rushed to the gun as it wedged itself between the mast and a stack of barrels. They tried to grab the ropes attached to the rear of the gun, but just as they reached, the ship tilted to port. The heavy weapon started sliding again, this time heading straight for Jonathan.

  “Get out of the way!” Harrison yelled, but Jonathan had nowhere to go. He backed up madly, slipping on the wet planking. The gun barreled directly at him. In the instant right before the weapon would have struck him and crashed through the rail, he leapt overboard. The gun followed.

  Harrison and Walker rushed to the rail and looked over just in time to see the gun sink into the dark waves.

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” called Walker.

  “Man overboard!” shouted Harrison.

  A Loose Gun

  “Not quite!” called a voice from below. As Harrison and the Captain looked against the side of the ship, there was Jonathan, holding onto the anchor, dangling, with only his hands to secure him.

  Mr. Harrison, Jonathan and Spears were, of course, summoned to Captain Walker’s cabin, all still wet from their third check of all the topside guns. They stood at attention, staring out the aft windows of the cabin, trying not to breathe too loudly and possibly raise the ire of the Captain any further than necessary. Mr. Koonts and Lieutenants Holtz and Blake were also present, all sitting at the large table in the center of the room. There was a pot of steaming coffee on the table and a few bits of hardtack, some jam, and the last bit of toasted cheese. Steward was clearing the dishes. As he reached for the remaining food, Holtz gave him a concerned and confused look.

  “Are ya done with this here tack, Lieutenant?” asked Steward.

  “Not at all, Steward. I would be happy to take it all,” Holtz said.

  “Aye, ya see? At least someone appreciates my cooking!” said Steward happily.

  “No, not at all,” said Holtz. “I seem to have a loose rat in my cabin and if I can get him to eat this, he will certainly perish!”

  This caused many to laugh out loud, reveling in the joke. Harrison, who would usually have made the comment about Steward’s lack of culinary talent, did not join in the mirth, though he greatly desired to, and just continued to stare straight ahead. Steward remove all the plates and the coffee as well, then exited the cabin, grumbling.

  “Harrison,” the Captain said calmly, only delaying the assured explosion to come. “What in the world is going on aboard this ship? A loose gun?”

  “Aye, sir, that it was,” Harrison replied.

  “I know what it was!” exploded the Captain, “Did you ensure that they were secure?”

  “I had . . . I had ordered Mr. Moore to the port side and Mr. Spears to the starboard,” said Harrison, knowing that this fact would look bad for Jonathan.

  “Mr. Moore,” said the Captain, turning on him. “How could you miss a gun?”

  “Sir, all guns were secure when I checked them—and I checked them twice.”

  “Then you must have checked incorrectly—twice!” boomed the Captain. “What has happened to you, Jonathan? This is not what I expect from my midshipmen, especially you!”

  Jonathan stared out the window as the Captain continued to scold him. But something told him to look about the cabin. A feeling compelled him to believe there was something amiss. As Jonathan scanned the others in the room, his eyes fell upon Spears, who was grinning widely. Jonathan looked at Harrison and he, too, was looking at Spears. Could it be that Spears was delighting in the misfortune that Jonathan was enduring? Or could it be more? Could it be that Spears loosened the gun after Jonathan had checked it? He did come to the port side and was busy about my guns, Jonathan thought. I just know he did this to bring shame to me, though I shall bite my tongue, as I have no proof.

  When the tongue-lashing was complete, they were dismissed, and Jonathan was sent to the crow’s nest for the evening, without dinner. Spears, now hiding his glee, bowed and retreated to the cockpit.

  Walker took a look at his empty coffee cup and called for Steward to bring back the pot immediately.

  “Lieutenant Holtz, please attend topside and assist Mr. Watt in navigation if you please. Blake, I would ask that you check all guns and supplies and make sure all are secure.”

  Both Lieutenants rose and nodded to the Captain, knowing full well that they were being asked to leave so as not to hear the remainder of the discussion. Possibly, it was a further tongue lashing for Lieutenant Harrison and it would be poor form for them to be present. They left the cabin immediately.

  “Well, Mr. Koonts,” said the Captain, “How do you think all this has come to pass— the sudden degradation of Mr. Moore’s capabilities?”

  Koonts mulled this over for a moment, then scratched his chin. “Not at all like him, Ca
ptain. Not at all.”

  “I agree. It seems that more is afoot than is on the surface,” Walker said as Steward entered the cabin with the coffee and set three cups on the table. He began filling each with the steaming brew.

  “Captain, if I may?” asked Mr. Harrison.

  “By all means, continue,” said the Captain.

  “Jonathan has had three mishaps in this short cruise, two even before we left port. He fell off the gangplank, then he participated in a shoving match with Spears, and now this gun incident.”

  “If I may be so bold, Cap’n?” Steward said as he poured the last cup of coffee for Koonts. “I think ya are missin’ a few facts. First off, I saw Spears waitin’ at the bottom of the gangplank before ‘e boarded the Dani, just a-standing there. No reason. Then as soon as Jonathan came up—Spears was right behind. I didn’t see anything happen as far as I could tell, but I wasn’t lookin’. Second, well, I have seen Spears beratin’ Sean Flagon on more than one occasion, and a bit of pushing and shoving. Petty stuff, mind ya.”

  The Captain looked calm and thoughtful. “Are you suggesting, Steward, that Spears is behind all this?”

  “Well, one can never be so sure,” Steward said, “but I also know that Spears’s father is no friend o’ the Moores. I think he’s tryin’ to make things more difficult, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

  “Then let’s call Spears in here and get to the bottom of it!” demanded Koonts. He was now upset, his face starting to glow red. He was partial to Jonathan, as they all were.

  The Captain took a sip of his coffee and held up his hand.

  “Not yet, my dear Koonts. Is Spears behind this? I have thought as much, but needed confirmation,” the Captain said. “What we have now is just hearsay. No real proof, no eye-witness account. However, we need to watch closely for two reasons. One, if our suspicions are correct, Spears can be dangerous, not only to Jonathan but to other crew members as well. That gun almost killed Jonathan and could have injured a handful of men. We must keep an eye on Mr. Spears. As a precaution, let us put Mr. Moore before the mast. Have him leave the cockpit and bunk with Flagon and the crew. He will be disappointed, but I wager he will be relieved to be away from Spears.”

  “I will tell him myself, sir,” said Harrison. “What is the second reason to watch closely?”

  The Captain smiled and took another sip of coffee. “We must watch Jonathan and see how he handles this entire issue. If we step in and solve it for him, well, that does not give him a chance to work it out. He is resourceful, so let us check those resources. I wonder what he will do.”

  Steward nodded and spoke with a smile on his face. “I think Mr. Moore suspects Spears. If I know my Moores, which I do, ‘e’s got somethin’ up his sleeve, Jonathan does.”

  Outside the Captain’s cabin, Spears turned to his left to make his way to the cockpit. After a few steps, he felt a rough push from behind that sent him sprawling to the deck. Before he could react, Jonathan jumped atop him and pinned his arms to the planks.

  “I see what you are up to, Spears, and if you desire to challenge me, then so be it!” hissed Jonathan.

  “I don’t know what you mean—”said Spears, surprised at the intensity of the attack.

  “Stow it, Spears. I am warning you: leave Sean Flagon out of this!”

  Jonathan stood up and kept his eye on Spears, who continued to lie on the floor, laughing.

  7

  One for Adventure

  The next morning, Harrison informed Jonathan that he was to be put before the mast as part of his punishment for the loose gun.

  “Before the mast? What does that mean Mr. Harrison?” asked Jonathan.

  “It means that you will no longer bunk in the cockpit where all the officers and midshipmen sleep,” said Harrison, “Since the cockpit is behind the mizzenmast, you will be sleeping before the mizzenmast, where the common crew sleeps.”

  Jonathan smiled.

  “I know I should be upset, it is quite a disgrace to be sure. However, to bunk with Sean and Claise again and be free of Spears, well, I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Harrison!”

  “It was not my doing, but I am glad for it,” said Harrison. “Be careful, Jonathan. Sleep with one eye open, as they say!”

  “I have been! And now, before the mast and amongst friends I will finally get the first good night’s sleep since we left England!”

  Word spread quickly that Jonathan was moving to the lower deck. Though some were shocked, none were disappointed. The young brothers Colin and Nicolas Stredney, knew nothing about Jonathan and his exploits, but they were soon educated, as their crewmates told of the last mission and Jonathan’s part in it.

  “He is a true hero!” said Nicolas. “It will be excitin’ to meet him up close!”

  “I wonder,” said Colin, “if he will even speak to the likes of us, lowly and basically one step above the gutter.”

  “But that’s where he came from, lads,” said Jones, “e’s a street urchin himself, only being plucked up by Steward ‘bout a year ago. He knows what it’s like to be a poor man, yet, he discovered his father again, after being lost.”

  “And his father’s a captain!” said Smith. “Such an amazing tale couldn’t be made up!”

  Just then, Jonathan appeared, with Sean in tow. The men all rushed to him and clapped him on the back in welcome.

  “Take my spot, Mr. Moore, right by Seany,” said Claise as he began gathering his things. “I have been sleeping in the galley anyway.”

  “He snores terribly and keeps many awake at night,” added Smith.

  “True, but not a problem,” continued Claise. “I am just happy you’re back with friends. And you’ll have more room than we had in the closet, eh?”

  “We welcome ya with open arms, Mr. Moore!” said Garvey.

  Jonathan graciously accepted Claise’s offering and took the hammock that had been strung over a few beams, right above Sean.

  Once all personal items had been organized, Jonathan and Sean left the lower deck and headed towards the cockpit to retrieve Jonathan’s gear.

  Upon their arrival, Spears sat up in his bed, presumably from a nap. He rubbed his eyes and spoke harshly to Jonathan and Sean.

  “Well, Moore and Flagon, what are you doing and where are you going with your things?” he demanded.

  Jonathan continued collecting his clothes, his telescope from his father and his small cooking stove that he had received as a Christmas gift. Sean had hoisted the heavy locker and began happily dragging it out of the room.

  “I asked you a question, Moore!” Spears said.

  Jonathan looked at Sean. They smiled and left without a word. This caused Spears to rant all the more.

  “When I left, Jonny,” Sean said in a whisper, “I let go a nasty crack in there!”

  That night, as all without duty settled in, Sean began reading from his book. He read aloud, as many had been listening and were enjoying the tale of King Arthur.

  “There was seen in the churchyard, against the high altar, a great stone four square, like unto a marble stone; and in midst thereof was like an anvil of steel a foot on high, and therein stuck a fair sword naked by the point, and letters there were written in gold about the sword that said thus: Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil, is rightwise king born of all England.”

  Sean stopped and looked up from the book. He stared at Jonathan and smiled.

  “You remind me of the young Arthur, Jonathan!” said Sean. “I picture you in my head as I read it, as if it were actually happening before me, like a play.”

  “First of all,” said Jonathan as he stretched out on the hammock after removing his shoes and coat, “you have probably learned to drink and enjoy rum a little too much if you imagine me as Arthur. That is utter silliness, Sean.”

  “Well, it is my imagination and I am doing the reading, so I will be as silly as I want,” said Sean. “But it makes some sense in that Arthur was destined for greatness and he just needed to prov
e it. Just like you.”

  “However do you mean, Sean?” asked Jonathan sleepily. He really didn’t want to know the answer, only to sleep deeper than he had at any time since the voyage began. At last he could close both eyes and even snore if he wanted.

  “You were roaming the streets, like Arthur, and you became a midshipman by your deeds—”

  “And because my father is a Captain in the Royal Navy—” added Jonathan.

  “And by your deeds, you were rewarded with command, you see?”

  “If it pleases you Sean, you can picture me as Arthur, you as Lancelot—”

  “Who is he?” asked Sean.

  “You will see,” said Jonathan.

  Just then Steward appeared to check on the boys. “And ya can picture me as wise ol’ Merlin, the wizard, as I’m almost magical in my knowledge ‘n skills!”

  “Steward,” asked Sean, ignoring his comments about being a wizard, “How do you believe I am progressing with my reading?”

  “Very well, Sean,” he said. “By the time yer finished, ya’ll be able to read the exam, I am sure.”

  Sean looked at him with a quizzical face. “The exam?”

  “Why yes! What are ya? Daft?” cried Steward and delivered a stinging swat to the back of Sean’s head. “The exam to become a marine! It is a written exam, at least part of it! That’s why Gorman has you reading!”

  “Oh, yes, I remember,” said Sean. “Then I had better get to it!”

  And as Sean continued reading, his voice soothed Jonathan, and he drifted off into a deep, restful sleep. Within a few minutes, the rest of the audience, likewise, drifted off. Sean looked up, smiled, and blew out the candle.

  The remainder of the cruise to Nassau, Bahamas, was uneventful. The weather cleared and on the second of March, HMS Danielle sailed smartly into port on a calm, turquoise Caribbean Sea, with the sun glittering off the waves.

  As soon as the ship was docked, Jonathan ran to his sleeping quarters. Under Sean’s hammock, he had stored his locker. Within it, in a secreted area, he removed the dolphin necklace he had purchased for Miss Delain Dowdeswell, still in its fancy lace wrapping and bow.