Peregrine

by Aye, Michael

  The rider pulled back roughly on the reins and the horse’s hooves skidded on the damp road.

  “Ariel…Ariel …” Witzenfeld called as he slid from the horse, grabbing the saddle pistol as he dismounted. The metallic click rang out in the stillness as the pistol was cocked. In the distance, the faint rumble of thunder was heard. The wind had picked up so that the trees seemed to bend and sway.

  “Ariel…Foster…Thomas …”

  “They’re not here,” Dagan spoke from the corner of the still standing chimney.

  Witzenfeld swung around and fired, the ball glancing off the bricks and harmlessly into the night. Dagan wasn’t sure if it was the wind or Witzenfeld’s whirling movement but his hat came off his head and now lay on the ground.

  “Damn jumpy for a dangerous man,” Dagan spoke again, only this time he was standing by a charred wall that had collapsed. Another shot rang out and the thud let Dagan know the ball had embedded in timber close by…but not close enough for the man to have been aiming.

  Dropping the pistol, Witzenfeld pulled his sword out of its scabbard, making a rasping sound. Seeing this Dagan stepped from behind the wall as lightning lit up the sky. The wind had picked up more, blowing not only Witzenfeld’s long hair but also his coat. Dagan pulled a cutlass from his belt and walked out to meet his enemy.

  “Did you bring Ariel?”

  “No, I did not. She was tired of you and decided to find a real man.”

  “You bastard.”

  He’s mad, Dagan thought as he said, “No, unlike you, I knew both of my parents.”

  The moon reflected off the polished steel of Witzenfeld’s blade as it slashed down and he rushed forward. Dagan parried the blow and stepped to the side, jumping as Witzenfeld slashed at his feet and legs then made a backhand slash that would have decapitated him if he hadn’t ducked.

  Another flash of lightning revealed a maniacal appearance to Witzenfeld as he cursed and slashed, the blades clanging together then parting. Rain started to come down pelting the combatants with large drops. Seeing Dagan shake the drops from his eyes, his foe rushed in to take advantage of the rainy distraction, but Dagan was ready. He dropped his shoulder and thrust forward and upward. The ground was now wet and slick. Though his opponent planted his foot, it slid on the wet grass and he was impaled by Dagan’s cutlass. The look of surprise crossed the man’s face. Dagan jerked his blade from his foe’s chest which made a sucking sound. Free of the blade, he fell to the ground.

  “Witzenfeld,” Dagan spoke to the man, “Ariel is safe. I would never harm her. I just used her to get to you for your actions against my family.”

  The man tried to speak and blood came from his mouth. He spat it out. “You think I’m Witzenfeld.”

  Dagan was not sure if it was a laugh or the death rattle. The man spit more blood then spoke again.

  “I’m Captain Morgan. I run the Rathskeller for Witzenfeld.”

  “Why did you come after me?” Dagan asked, shocked by this revelation.

  “My life wouldn’t be worth a fiddler’s fart if Ariel was gone when the captain came back.”

  “Where is he?” Dagan asked.

  The man coughed again, tried to speak as he slumped back and was gone. Dagan wiped his blade clean and walked over to the man’s horse. He didn’t see a sack hanging from the saddle but, when he checked the saddlebags, they were full. He took a handful of sovereigns and tried to give them to Kawliga, who refused them.

  Dagan then hefted the saddlebags over his shoulder and the two of them headed toward General Manning’s house. Kawliga had been sleeping in a small barn behind the main house. The two men went inside and Dagan lit a lantern. The rain had stopped but the two men were soaking. Looking toward the main house, it was dark as was expected. Dagan felt a loneliness fall over him. He had failed to bring Witzenfeld to justice. He was leaving the woman he loved and was also leaving a part of his family.

  Dagan was surprised when Uncle Andre called his name. “It’s done?” Andre asked.

  “No sir,” Dagan answered and told his uncle about what had taken place. “He’s a cruel man, Uncle. He will stop at nothing to bring pain to Gabe or his family even if it means hurting someone else.”

  “I will watch over Betsy,” Andre volunteered. It was as if he was reading Dagan’s mind. “She will be safe in Petersburg. We will keep her there till it’s safe to return.”

  Dagan knew that words could not describe how he felt. Feeling the weight of the saddlebags, he looked around the barn until he saw a bucket. He poured one side of the bag’s contents into the bucket.

  “An investment,” Dagan said as he handed the gold to his uncle. Andre nodded…an investment.

  PART II

  Spell of the Deep

  What magic spell does the sea

  Cast upon a man

  To sail away from all he loves

  It’s hard to understand

  Fearing not the wind and wave

  The deep that has no sound.

  The captain walks his quarterdeck

  A ship that’s fit-n-found

  …Michael Aye

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was six bells in the day watch, three in the afternoon, when Peregrine and her sister ships made it to the anchorage at Saint Augustine.

  “Ready forward,” Lavery shouted, the speaking trumpet unused and dangling in his hand at his side.

  As Peregrine rounded up, everything seemed in disarray. Sails were flogging as hands tried to go about their duties without bowling over some colonel’s wife or stepping on some young boy who was so totally engrossed in the evolution that he was constantly in the way.

  “Let go forward,” Lavery yelled.

  As the best bower anchor splashed into the warm water, Gunnells spoke to the helmsman. “Larboard your helm.”

  Orders were barked and the ship began to spin. “Let go main course halyards.”

  “Round up, Mr. Gunnells,” Lavery called to the master. “Meet her. Let go second bower. Hand the courses handsomely now.” Lavery seemed to be all over the quarterdeck as Gabe stood to windward watching his first lieutenant bring the ship to anchor. Down came the remaining sails.

  “She’s snubbed, sir,” the bosun reported to Lavery.

  “Very well,” Lavery answered. “Summon the boat crews. You never know when it’ll rain in Florida so let’s get as many of our guests ashore as we possibly can before they get soaked in a cloud burst.” What Lavery didn’t say was Gabe, the captain, had let him know that if the guests were not on shore by sunset he’d think the first lieutenant would be amiss.

  “’Peers Mr. Lavery is in a hurry to off-load our live lumber,” Bart spoke as he made his way to where Gabe was standing.

  “He’s not the only one,” Gabe replied barely above a whisper.

  “Aye,” Bart agreed. “’Is Lordship ’as bout ’ad ’is fill of the colonel’s little un.”

  Gabe had a vivid picture of the little wench squealing or screaming at every turn. A closed door meant nothing to the colonel’s children.

  Smiling, Gabe leaned forward and again spoke softly. “See what’s in the future for daddy and Uncle Bart.”

  “Humph,” Bart snorted. “I believes in the Bible.”

  “I didn’t realize you were so religious,” Gabe chivvied his friend.

  “Oh I is, special like when it comes to discipline.”

  “Discipline.”

  “Aye, I believes in spare the rod, spoil the child.”

  “Where is that verse?” Gabe asked. It had been awhile since he’d had any fun with Bart and was now on a subject he wouldn’t let go.

  “I don’t rightly know but it’s in the scriptures same as honour yews mother and father.”

  “Well, tell me what you are going to do when you take up the rod to Lady Deborah’s little girl and she takes up a belaying pin to you?” Gabe asked.

  “I guess that’s when I finds a billet at sea. But that ain’t gonna happen.”

  “
You seem mighty sure, Bart.”

  “Oh I am. The colonel’s girl done fixed that. I done seen ’is Lordship jump too many times. The little…little she devil always seems to be at ’is ear when she screams. Iffen she ’ad been a tar or bullock she’d been flogged round the fleet by now.”

  Gabe couldn’t keep a straight face, “She devil?”

  “Aye, makes you kind of believe in hants and such.”

  “How so?” Gabe asked, not understanding Bart’s analogy.

  Rolling his eyes Bart snorted, “And yew’s a King’s officer. Why she’s pretty and a little angel one minute. Next she’s a screaming she devil. They’s got to be something unnatural bout that, bound to be a hant.”

  “I thought you believed in the Bible, Bart.”

  “I told you I does.”

  “The Bible doesn’t talk about hants.”

  Bart was speechless for a moment as he stared at Gabe. Finally he spoke. “Yew need to talk with Lum and get educated ‘bout the scriptures. Lum can tell you all kinds o’ places where Jesus and his disciples cast out devils and if there ever were a person what had a devil in them, it’s the colonel’s daughter.”

  Seeing Lieutenant Davy standing close by, but not sure whether to interrupt, Gabe threw up his hands in surrender. “Yes, Mr. Davy.”

  “A barge is approaching, sir. Looks like the governor’s barge.”

  “Is Governor Tonyn aboard?” Gabe questioned. If so a side party would have to be assembled.

  “Not that I can see,” Davy replied. “But it appears Mr. Ally is in charge of it.”

  * * *

  A bowl of conch chowder was placed in front of each of the men seated at a table in the Mermaid Tavern. Bart attacked his with gusto as would be expected of a man who had been on a prolonged diet due to stomach ailments.

  “I see your appetite is back,” Lieutenant George “Jep” Jepson volunteered.

  Bart’s only reply was a burp and a smile. It was hard to believe that less than six months ago Jep had been a ship’s master and now he commanded Pegasus. He had spent many an off duty hour playing cards with Bart and Dagan. They had become close friends. Jep was thankful that friendship had not come to an end with his step up. It was his friendship with Dagan that caused him to agree to give temporary hiding to the girl, Ariel. She was now the topic of conversation.

  Dagan had gone to Gabe and Lord Anthony and explained his actions with regard to the girl and his failed attempt to draw out the traitor and privateer, Witzenfeld. Neither Lord Anthony nor Gabe had condemned Dagan; each was sure he had taken the appropriate action. Ariel had been brought aboard Peregrine as more women were aboard to act as chaperones. Now Ariel was being asked to live with one of the colonels and his family; however, Ariel wanted to go with Dagan.

  Gabe had said Faith would welcome the girl as would Lady Deborah. Dagan was concerned that her presence might bring harm to those he loved.

  “Face it,” Jep was saying. “Witzenfeld is a scoundrel and will do what he can whether Ariel is around or not. Look what he’s already done. What kind of man will dishonour a flag of truce?”

  “Aye,” Bart agreed, putting down his spoon and taking a pull from his tankard. He belched again, causing his friends to stare. “It’s me innards,” he said by way of apology. “Caleb said it may take awhile for ’em to work their way back toward normal.”

  “This Witzenfeld,” Bart continued, “don’t know it yet but ’e ’as got ’isself in a bad way with ’is Lordship. I wouldn’t be surprised iffen once we get rid of the rest of our live lumber ’is Lordship don’t send a ship or two on a witch hunting trip.”

  Bart had just informed his friends of the admiral’s intentions regarding the rogue. He knew his words would go no further but it did set their minds in motion.

  “Don’t forget we got a court martial what ’as to be tended to first,” Bart reminded his friends.

  The men turned as a man at the bar banged his tankard and called for service. It’s not like Domingo not to keep man’s glass full, Dagan thought, then realized their lobster had not been served nor their tankards replenished.

  Mama Chavez heard the noise and came out from the kitchen. She had almost made it to the bar when suddenly she stopped. Her hands went to her face and she cried out. Seeing the woman turn ghostly white, the friends bounded from the table to behind the bar. Domingo lay face down in the floor. Dagan knelt and checked the man; he was dead. Shaking his head, Bart understood Dagan’s unspoken word. He and Jep helped Mama Chavez to a chair where she broke down.

  “I was just talking to him ten minutes ago!” she cried.

  “Aye,” Jep responded.

  It hadn’t been much longer when Domingo had been at their table serving the chowder and drinks, laughing and joking as he did so. Walking from behind the bar Dagan thought of Alejandro.

  “I will go to Mr. Ally,” he volunteered. “He’s probably still ferrying baggage and such.”

  Mama Chavez thanked him as Bart went behind the bar and got a bottle of brandy. “Try this,” he said softly. “It will ’elp calm you for what lies ahead.”

  Damme, thought Jep, I’ve just seen another side of Bart most wouldn’t believe.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gabe stood at the fife rail looking down at the men in the waist. The ship was now underway and making a good five knots with the winds out of the nor-northwest. Looking at the men, Gabe quickly thought of two he’d left behind in Saint Augustine. He would surely miss Alejandro and Paco.

  The ever cheerful Mr. Ally, who as a young midshipman, had gained the respect of most of the men now gathered in the waist. By gaining their respect he had, in turn, benefited from their vast knowledge of ships and the sea. Given time, he would have commanded a ship like Peregrine or even a ship of the line. But time and fate have a way of changing the best laid plans. When Alejandro’s father, Domingo, died suddenly from heart failure, Alejandro’s dreams of being a sea officer had died also. Gabe had been present for many sea burials but the one and only shore funeral had been that of his father, Admiral Lord James Anthony. When a man died at sea he was buried usually by the next day. It had taken three days for Domingo to be laid to rest. Each day, Mama Chavez seemed to become weaker and weaker with grief.

  Father Pedro Camps did a wonderful job, Gabe thought, sending Domingo to live with the angels until such time as he was joined by his loved ones. Alejandro approached Gabe soon after the funeral and tearfully asked if he could resign. Governor Tonyn had decided to offer the youth the pilot’s job and Paco could help. Other times Paco would be of use at the tavern if Gabe agreed to discharge him. Paco had been a good man…all a captain could want in a cox’n but Gabe knew that the two men had developed a relationship not unlike his and Dagan.

  Walking to windward, Gabe could see Dasher and just aft was Pegasus. The sight of the ships with the wind in their sails was breathtaking. How could anyone want anything more? Gabe wondered, then quickly realized there was a lot more. His wife, his brother, Dagan, even Francis Markham across the way commanding Dasher. The two had been midshipmen together and had fought together as well as imbibed together. Life was short. Domingo’s death had brought this to the forefront of his thoughts. There were some things that needed to be said to certain people and some things should not be put off until tomorrow. Well, he intended on making some changes and that was no error, as Bart was fond of saying.

  * * *

  The small squadron made good time from Saint Augustine to Barbados. Winds were fair and no squalls were encountered. Departing Saint Augustine, they sailed to the eastward of the Bahama Islands then, after passing Saint Kitts, they sailed to the westward of Antigua to Barbados. During their time sailing, only one other ship had been sighted until they were off Saint Kitts.

  The sun was bright and shining down on the houses at Bridgetown. Several of the passengers were on deck and commented on the brightly colered houses. Gabe had been in the West Indies, off and on, since 1774 and had gotten used to the f
loral pink, blue, and green houses. They were far different than those that dotted the English coast and countryside. It seemed gray, white, and natural wood or stone were the predominant colours there.

  Hearing female laughter, Gabe focused on a group standing amidships. Lord Anthony was at the center of the group and holding onto his arm like a true lady was Ariel. Nesbit had spent countless hours tutoring the girl on the ways of a lady. Gabe was not sure if Dagan had instigated the tutoring or if Ariel had spoken to Nesbit herself.

  Once away from Witzenfeld, the girl had blossomed into a very open and articulate young lady. Dagan had watched over her like a hawk in the early days but, while he still watched, he was not constantly at her side. Give her room, Gil had said in one of the rare moments when it was just the admiral, Bart, Gabe, and Dagan together.

  Lord Mifflin and his wife had approached Dagan and stated, “We just love your ward.”

  “Damme,” Dagan had whispered to Gabe. “It’s not enough I spend most of my day looking after you. Look what I’ve done got myself into.”

  Gabe had noticed Mr. Davy spent as much time as he could with the girl when his duties allowed. After fighting a duel over the honour of Sir William Bolton’s daughter, Annabelle, the two seemed to have drifted away from each other. Gabe was sure Sir William didn’t feel a mere Navy lieutenant was suitable for his daughter.

  “Begging your pardon, sir,” Lavery said, breaking his reverie. “We’ve passed Needles Point and are ready to make our final tack before entering Carlisle Bay.”

  “Very well,” Gabe answered. “I will inform the admiral.”

  * * *

  Lord Ragland’s barge bumped alongside of Peregrine. It was sent out to help off load Sir Victor and the others of high standing. Buck had sent several of HMS SeaHorse’s boats over as well as including Lord Anthony’s barge. After being informed of their proximity to Bridgetown, Anthony had Bart ask Dagan to meet him below. There Anthony recommended to Dagan that he allow Lady Deborah and himself to act as guardians to Ariel until such time as definite plans could be worked out with regard to her future. Dagan had agreed, knowing it was the best all around. Heading back topside, Lord Anthony was thinking of how Deborah would respond to Ariel when suddenly he found himself lying flat, his bottom on the hot tarry deck.