Winds of Fury

by Peter Duysings

  “If you would please, I would appreciate that.”

  Klaus was escorted into the same room as before. The boy’s demeanor had indeed changed, as he was cordial and more straightforward in his communication with Heinrich.

  “So, lad. How did you make out the last three days getting along with your peers?”

  “It has been very different, mein Herr. I have participated with them in various activities, and they have treated me … kinder. I think they are starting to accept me.”

  “Is that so? That is quite remarkable in just a short period. You have done well.” Heinrich got a small tinge of dread, things had worked out better than he had expected and now he wondered if the lad would take up his offer. He cut to the chase to find out.

  “So, tell me, have you given my job offer much thought and have you come to a decision?”

  Heinrich actually found himself holding his breath in anticipation of the answer. He was fond of this young lad, and he badly wanted him to accept the offer. It embarrassed him somewhat that he, being a hardened sailor, would react so feebly.

  “Captain Drope, I have done nothing but think of the words you spoke to me the other day and how they … affected me. I know I have a long way to go to become … the person I have a chance to be someday. I also realize I cannot bring change about without … further help from someone taking an interest in me.” The lad paused and swallowed hard.

  Heinrich took that as a bad omen and prepared himself for the answer of nein. Without knowing it, the expression on his face showed his disappointment. In such a short time, he had already bonded to this boy. He felt foolish to have considered only one boy. What had he been thinking? It was a mistake on his part, and he told himself that he needed to consider options if he was to command a vessel on the high seas successfully.

  “Captain, I have decided to go with you … if you still will have me.”

  Heinrich took a few seconds to clear the flustered thoughts from his mind.

  “Wha … what did you say, lad?” He wanted to hear the words again to be sure.

  “I really want to take up your offer if you have not changed your mind about me.”

  “Why of course, lad. My offer still stands, and I want you to come with me and be part of the ship’s crew. I will have the paperwork drafted immediately. Start packing, mein Junge. You are about to make a new journey in life,” Heinrich exclaimed with enthusiasm.

  “I have already packed most of my belongings. I have just been waiting for you to show up.”

  “Gut, ser gut. You shall soon be on board the best ship this harbor has ever been graced with. The See Wolf will be your new home. I will go see the headmistress now.”

  He sprang to his boots and squeezed Klaus happily on the shoulder and told him to be ready to leave in two days’ time.

  “I will be ready and waiting, captain.”

  Heinrich made the formal arrangements, and the headmistress told him that he could pick Klaus up the very next day.

  “Schon - Splendid!” I cannot thank you enough for your kind assistance. I assure you that the lad will be well taken care of and will continue to be schooled. Besides myself, I have a surgeon on board who is also an educated man and he will teach the boys I have onboard.”

  They parted with the promise that all paperwork would be finalized when he came back to pick up Klaus. Heinrich whistled loudly all the way back to the harbor area. He met with Otto and had him make arrangements for the new cabin boy. Otto hadn’t seen Heinrich as thrilled as he was in a long time.

  CHAPTER NINE

  KARL, KING of the DOCKS

  It was the latter part of April 1798 when Heinrich, now at age twenty-three, had almost put together a full crew but was still in need of more experienced sailors. He and the most trusted mates on board worked feverishly putting together a strong crew. Outfitting an entire ship with a full crew of experienced sailors was a monumental task. Otto was a constant and steadfast friend who Heinrich could depend on better than anyone. This bond strengthened as they worked together to finalize their plans to set sail within the month.

  About half the crew was on board, getting the ship in tip-top condition, while many of the crew members were still employed by other merchant ships and waiting for the appointed date to sail. The ship’s carpenters Marten Bauer and Johannes Keller were finishing several of the revisions to the holds; adding cabinets and shelves. The crew was calling it a day and were about to depart when a group of men, numbering some thirty was approaching the See Wolf. Otto spied the throng coming their way and called out to Heinrich who was nearby. The two made it to the gangplank off the main deck, as the group halted below on the dock.

  “Permission ta come aboard?” gruffly called out one large and burly-looking sailor.

  “State the reason for your visit, Seemann,” Otto countered.

  “We’re here ta see ‘bout hirin on as the word ‘round da harbor has been passed on, dat yar lookin’ for good men,” the same man explained; clearly this big fellow was the spokesman.

  “Ya must be da Kapitän. How ‘bout we come aboard an’ talk da madder over?”

  “This will be the Kapitän right here,” Otto pointed to Heinrich with his thumb.

  The barrel-chested man looked at Heinrich clearly sizing up the younger man. Heinrich had already checked them over and had judged most were not the kind of men he was looking for. The majority feebly stood around, clearly men that were not used to nor interested in applying themselves to a full day’s work. They looked like a sad lot except for perhaps five or six, but the rest he sensed as undesirables. He was particular, as a wise captain ought to be, about whom he takes into the fold.

  “So, Kapitän. How ‘bout ah little cordiality an’ invitin’ us up instead of havin’ us stand round all day scratchin’ ar arses?” Herr ‘burly’ arrogantly stated, looking at Heinrich with an indignant glare.

  Heinrich peered at the testy-sounding man, measuring up the fellow. Heinrich also put on a façade suggesting with squinted eyes and pursed lips he was thinking about it. The brawny man’s posture indicated he was a pompous prima donna; a man used to getting his way. The man put both hands on his hips and slightly canted his head to one side in a curious gesture, but with definite impatience.

  “Look, Kapitän.” He almost slurred the title. “We came here at yar request callin’ for men wid hard-core sailin’ experience. I don’t undarstand yar additude.”

  “Frankly, I don’t quite understand your attitude.” Heinrich shot right back at him. “You come here and demand to board my ship, instead of simply requesting a session on the dock to assess your initial qualifications as seaworthy men. To me, your attitude exudes conceitedness.” He was partly testing the man.

  The burly sailor grunted his dissatisfaction and testily replied, “An’ wad makes one as young as ya such ah wise judge a character? Fur dat madder how did one as young as ya come ta be Kapitän of ah beauty o’ dis at all? Mus’ ta been born ta a rich family, spoiled rodden, an’ given this impressive boat as ah gift from ya rich papa, ja? Dat’s da only way someone like ya could have gotten it at ya age. Must be nice ta play-act as a Kapitän, hey laddie?” the man challenged with a bucked-toothed grin, and looked at the men behind him for effect. He was definitely enjoying the confrontation.

  Heinrich took the fool’s incessant yapping in stride. He was also partly enjoying the confrontation as a break to the day’s long hours of work. Heinrich had a bit of a wild streak in him that he had to work hard to keep under control. There were occasions over the years when he joined the crew in town for bouts of barroom carousing that sometimes ended in brawls with other ship’s crews. He had participated in these fights with a wicked dereliction of the consequences. His learning stemmed from first-hand experience. He mastered numerous ways to put a man down in painful ways. Much of the fighting skills were learned from an older sailor with a mixed ethnic background of Eastern-Persian blood, who from a young age been taught age-old hand-to-hand combat techniq
ues. Over time, Heinrich was taught to beat a man not just with brute strength, which he could well do, but with short and quick strategic strikes to key areas of the body. For the last couple of years, he faithfully practiced these techniques, perfected his own sequence of moves, and had become a formidable force of one.

  The burly ruffian was posing no real threat other than ignorantly degrading Heinrich. He couldn’t fault the bully for not knowing the real story behind wrestling the schooner away from Spanish pirates. What Heinrich did take issue with was this man’s criticism of his ability to lead a crew and the mastery of his own ship.

  “Ar’ ya too high an’ mighty ta come down then an’ speak ta me face-ta-face, young pup? I’m sure dat I can help ya knock dat big chip off yar shoulder and come ta see da world from our viewpoint as all of us here on da dock have been forced ta do in scratchin’ out ah livin’,” the blabbermouth said as he gestured with a tree limb thick arm, indicating the others standing around him.

  “You may have a point there, my dear fellow,” Heinrich answered. “You certainly could use a lesson in proper manners.”

  Heinrich heard his crew gathering on the main deck ready to depart for home. Several were carrying tools and building materials. The crew halted at the sight of the group below on the dock below. They hadn’t surmised as yet that there was tension in the air. Heinrich turned and noticed one sailor holding two sturdy five-foot long round wooden rods that were used to support the firearms in the storage cabinets.

  “Bader, I’ll take those two poles. They’ll do just fine for teaching an old dog a lesson or two.”

  Bader didn’t understand what dog the captain was referring to but handed them over. Heinrich took them and stepped to the gangplank and told Otto to keep the crew on deck while he took care of some business. His expression was calm and collective, but his eyes held a trace of malice that Otto easily recognized.

  “Heinrich, is this really necessary? The brute is itching for a brawl. Some of those men down there may even jump in and then you’ll be outnumbered,” Otto said in a concerned voice.

  “Then I have you, dear friend, to come to my rescue,” Heinrich said with a sly grin as he stepped past Otto. “Besides, who am I to not help a fellow sailor in need if he needs his itch scratched?”

  Otto held up both hands, palms up as if to say, “What am I to do with this young man? Will he ever grow up?”

  If the brawny man seemed large from on board ship, his size was even more apparent when Heinrich got down to the dock. Heinrich was no lightweight; standing a good three inches over six feet and lean, yet muscular. There was nary an ounce of fat on his body. Indeed, he was a strong strapping young man with immense upper body strength. The barrel-chested lout on the dock stood a couple of inches taller, had at least seventy-odd pounds on Heinrich, and his arms were as thick as tree limbs.

  Heinrich had faced big men before, but nothing like this sulking hulk of an ape. But, Heinrich was confident with a huge measure of cockiness - and his pride was at stake. He was fully committed.

  As Heinrich came down the plank, the bully’s grin widened with delight at succeeding in drawing him down to face off. The sailor stood his ground with his fists placed on his wide hips as he watched the young man step from the ship in light easy strides. He didn’t miss that Heinrich’s gait was measured and balanced. Yet, he had no fear of him as young as he was. After all, had he not scrapped with many others who had made the mistake of taking him on thinking they stood a chance? They thought his size was the only outward sign of his strength, but they were all dead wrong. His speed was deceptive and his fighting skills had been honed by numerous brawls –he never lost even a one. After so many years he was still the “king of the docks” and rarely was he challenged anymore; he had many triumphs over tough hooligans under his belt. Why would this young, spoiled upstart of a ship captain be any different? He would once again prove his indisputable reputation and perhaps win a spot on the crew.

  Heinrich’s mind raced through different attack and escape maneuvers. He already concluded he would have to concentrate and move fast throughout this fight to stay ahead of this giant. His game plan better be sharp and brutal. Heinrich looked the brute straight in the eyes – eyes that revealed a stare of a wild animal. “Perhaps he is related to apes after all,” Heinrich concluded. Now only a few paces apart, they squared off. The men on the dock and on the ship were completely silent, entranced by the two gladiators facing off before them.

  “Ar’ we gonna play googily eyes at each other or hav ya perhaps changed yar mind an’ wish ta apologize ta me for yar young impudent additude?” the hulking figure spoke in a gruff tone that resembled a growling bear. Heinrich answered by tossing him one of the five-foot rods which the brute deftly caught with one hand and handled the thick wooden staff as if it was a twig in his paw-like hands.

  “Well, well, young lad. Ya have just made da worst decision in yar short life. Dey might have taught ya how ta act like a gentleman growin’ up in a rich family, but dey certainly didn’t teach ya de basics of real life when it come ta wisdom ‘bout who ya fight wid. Ya may think yar a real first-class dandy, but I’m gonna ta teach ya a real-life lesson dat none ah yar school masters could ever teach ya. Karl, de ‘King of da docks’ is gonna cut ya down ta size. Don’t pout, ‘cause if ya do live thru dis day, ya will have learned ah hard lesson. One dat yar papa shoulda taught ya cross his knees years ago,” the big brute stated with pleasure as he began slowly circling on the balls of his boots. “Time fo da lesson ta begin,” he seethed out the words.

  “Time to shut your big mouth and show me the little bit you’ve got,” Heinrich threw out the insult trying to rile the man’s confidence. It helped to get your opponent hot under the collar, making him dwell on his anger instead of calculating his fighting moves.

  “Think ya funny, ja? I’ll show ya how funny ya’ll look wid yar head smashed in.”

  “All I’m seeing is a big ape tip-toeing like a ballroom girl,” Heinrich threw back.

  “Why ya stinkin’ liddle bastard!” he roared out as he charged. He held his staff high above his head and swung down hard. Heinrich stepped to his right as the staff missed by only inches and struck the wooden dock with a loud thud! Leaping aside, Heinrich swung his, hitting the man solidly in the shoulder, knocking ‘King Karl’ backward. The man emitted a deep growl and suddenly spun forward in a lightning-quick move. His rapid recovery and speed amazed Heinrich. Karl handled the five-foot staff as it was a slender walking cane. The crowd stood in awe. Heinrich’s impact would easily have felled any other man. But Karl barely seemed fazed.

  “Hmmm,” Heinrich thought, inciting a cautious respect. They both circled each other with their staffs held in both hands angled across their chests. Heinrich started to lift his, while Karl pivoted to his left, raising his also, but holding it in midair waiting for Heinrich to commit his swing before counterstriking. Heinrich stopped his swing halfway into it and stepped back and away as Karl’s staff was brought down with force. The swing once again missed and smashed on the hard dock planking, creating a large crack where it impacted. With a quick step to the inside and a well-directed thrust, the staff plunged into ‘King Karl’s’ ribs. Karl responded with a loud grunt and folded over from the sharp impact. Taking advantage, Heinrich swiftly followed up with a swat to the side of Karl’s head. The See Wolf crew roared in enthusiasm.

  Heinrich stepped away and instantly regretted the move; he was playing it too safe. He should have followed up with a series of strikes, but at this point, he was still trying to determine Karl’s capability and had to be cautious. The big man had impressed Heinrich with his speed and agility, which he had not presumed from this large hulk of a man.

  Karl regained his composure and came toward Heinrich with his teeth bared, furious at being struck without yet having any damage to this young pup. His next swing was a short left, which Heinrich parried, then a fast right came flying, surprising him with its speed. Even though he sidestepped, it
still glanced off the side of his head and opened up a cut which began bleeding. It jarred him, but he continued moving to keep out of reach. Karl swung again with short left and rights, a few finding Heinrich on his upper body and shoulders. Pain seared through Heinrich. The brute continued coming after him, and now he was having a difficult time escaping the vicious attack. The big man’s forceful swings did not let up and although Heinrich’s quick footwork eluded most of the strikes, while a few were parried. Drope could not evade all of the strikes as one glanced off his staff and caught him deftly on the cheek knocking his head aside and sending him flying to the ground. His cheek was streaming blood from a deep cut that went to the bone. Now the men on the dock were roaring for Karl out of sheer excitement.

  If he had not rolled with the fall and sprung back to his feet, he would certainly have been done for. Stepping backward and sideways avoiding yet another lighting fast charge and strikes from the big man, he badly needed to get back on the offensive. Abruptly Karl’s attack slowed a bit most likely due to the energy spent and the next few strikes came up short. Feigning a step to his left, Karl swung a huge roundhouse in that direction, which turned his body around and Heinrich quickly lunged to his right. It left the man’s back fully exposed, to which Heinrich swung a massive strike catching him squarely to the upper back. It hit so solid that sweat flew off into the air. ‘King Karl’ grunted loud from the pain and staggered. Heinrich stepped in with a flurry of short rights and lefts. The brutal blows were aimed at the head, neck, back, and legs. The big man went down on one knee near a log pile. Heinrich was nearly out of breath after the frenzied strikes he had delivered.

  With the big fellow down, Drope saw the opportunity to finish him off. He cocked his staff and brought it forward targeting the head. Anticipating the impact, Karl ducked and the staff only grazed his long curly hair. The powerful swing flung Heinrich past the man. The end of his staff smashed into a log and the end broke off, leaving the tip splintered, and before he could stop, the momentum carried him into the pile. He rolled left and righted himself and then twirled around to attack again, but to his amazement, Karl was not there; he had somehow gotten to his feet and was able to move a few paces away.