Quarterdeck

by David O'Neil

  Naomi appeared with cobwebs and honey. The doctor started to protest, then realised there was no reason to stop her using them. They had worked for wounds for thousands of years. What he had was no better, though he did understand there were new remedies being discovered. At this time they were as good as any.

  ***

  On Abigail, Mathew Harper looked at the devastation of his once beautiful ship, now just a single gun firing to the last. It fell silent and the ship started to go. The terrible wounds in her side were not going to be sealed in a hurry, and there was no time anyway.

  It’s odd, Mathew thought. “There is a beautiful woman looking at me across the red and angry water littered with bits and pieces of the ships and men that had been involved in the skirmish.”

  He tried to lift his hand and wave, but it was too heavy for him to lift for some reason. He looked at his hand, there was a pistol gripped firmly there, the hammer was back and he could see down the barrel.

  The ship lurched and stared to slide under, Mathew’s hand jolted against the pedestal of the steering mountings, his finger tightened and the pistol fired.

  When the sharks came for Mathew he was dead already, so he was unaware of the way his body was ripped apart.

  The Abigail died with him. Of the forty-one survivors, nobody had a bad word for Mathew Harper.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Gunboat diplomacy

  The small boat was not remarked as it approached the shore of the island. The small community of Key West was enjoying the relief at the removal of the pressure from entertaining the local pirate base for several years. Despite the income generated by the pirate presence, the strain of maintaining the place in accordance with the demands of the pirates had been telling on the small population, many of whom were of a religious bent and were uncomfortable with the louche regime maintained by their benefactors.

  The boat ran aground and three men stepped ashore, each with his own weighty baggage.

  Bo’sun John Cody, formerly of the frigate Huron turned to his two companions. “Well, gents. This is where we parts company. From here on, I don’t know you and you don’t know me. Got it?”

  “We got it, John, and good luck to us all, though I reckon it would do no harm to keep company as far as the town.”

  John looked at the others. “If yew likes mates, but no further!”

  Taking up their bags the three walked off into the night. Hayes encountered them before they reached town. With a pistol in his belt and sword at his side, he was the better for half a bottle of Roger Newton’s best brandy. Like the other three men, he had rowed ashore before the Huron finally sank, taking less in the way of loot than he had hoped for. Others had prepared better for their departure.

  He was pretty certain that Bo’sun Cody would have been well prepared, which was why he was pleased to encounter him in this way.

  Placing his hand on his pistol, he stood in their way. “Just drop those loads into the cart I have here. It will save all that dragging about for you men. It was a hard day for us all, so better to relax a bit now.”

  “Why, that is a kind thought, Mr. Hayes. I would not have guessed that you would be so concerned for our welfare. Come on, lads, let’s put our bags in here with Mr. Hayes own bag, t’will save a lot of heaving and shoving for us on the way to town.”

  The three men loaded their bags into the cart. As they turned around, Hayes drew his pistol and pointed it at Bo’sun Cody.

  He squeezed the trigger, and looked perplexed when the pistol failed to fire. His semi-drunken state did not help.

  He shook the pistol then threw it aside and drew his sword. Cody watched this happen and picked up the pistol. He opened the pan and tapped a little powder into it from the powder horn he carried at his belt. He then cocked the pistol pointed it at Hayes and fired.

  The bullet knocked Hayes flat on his back. He lay there spread-eagled in the middle of the road. Cody walked over to him and made sure he was dead. He turned to the others, “Three way split?”

  “Bastard would have stolen our own wealth.”

  “Now we’ll steal his.” Cody said with a crooked grin. He unbuckled the sword belt and scabbard, and collected the blade from the dead hand of Hayes. “Waste not, want not!” He said with a smile, Grab the cart, the pair of you. Let’s be going then!”

  The three disappeared down the road toward town, and the area was left to the land crabs and the body of their former Lieutenant.

  ***

  The operation on Martin had taken a lot out of him and he woke with fever under the close attention of his female attendants.

  The continual application of water-soaked cloths was having some effect on his condition but there was more needed to be done.

  Doctor Mills was concerned the cobwebs and honey were doing something but there was more wrong with his patient than the wound. Some fever seemed to have taken hold, which made more to be dealt with than he anticipated. The cool cloths were of real use but his condition was such that he found Martin was either shivering or sweating. Naomi and Sadie her maid, both stripped off and joined Martin in bed giving their body heat to keep Martin’s in between the high and low levels specified by the Doctor.

  For four days Martin hovered between life and death. On the fifth day the doctor decided that the crisis was over. The two women, who had lent themselves to save him, gratefully abandoned their patient to wallow in a bath and recover themselves from what must have been a trying business.

  As Doctor Mills admitted, the presence of the two ladies physically may have made no difference. But the will to save the man, freely expressed in the way they proffered themselves, and the comfort of their presence, was a definite fillip to all involved in the treatment. Roger Mills never did discover the source of the fever. Nor could any of the local sources provide any information about it. Other than it was often fatal.

  For Martin it turned out to be beneficial. By the time he had recovered his senses his wound was well on the way to healing and his general health improved as his appetite returned.

  HMS Hera had remained in Key West to transport Martin to rejoin the diplomatic party in its progress north along the eastern seaboard of the American coast.

  ***

  Julia Savage had been released to sail north to Halifax, to re-establish her business and await the eventual arrival of Naomi and her maid. No plans had been made to cover the process of contacting the eastern states, apart from a simple progression, in the circumstances, northward.

  In the absence of Martin on his sickbed, Dominic elected to commence his mission. He had been active in promulgating the message which Martin had been trying to drive home since his arrival in American waters. The defeat of the pirates from Key West had been a real help in this matter.

  After more than ten days recovering, Martin insisted on re-joining the expedition along the coast. The remainder of the entourage left Key West with a send-off from the local people, who assured them of a friendly welcome whenever they were in these waters.

  As Hera flew north, the sea air had a beneficial effect on Martin, and the group who had nursed him back to health.

  There was a reclining bed/chair placed on the quarterdeck in the shadow of the mainsail. From there Martin was able to stand, and walk the deck when he was able, or just relax and watch the activities of the captain and crew of the schooner. As he had promised himself he was getting to know Lieutenant Harris better. What he discovered, he decided he liked. He turned to Naomi, who was seated sketching with charcoal stick and paper in a specially constructed chair, beside the table placed between them. “Madam, I am continually mystified by the knowledge you have at your fingertips. I do not condescend, how could I? I am a mere student at your feet in many of the subjects at which you excel.”

  Naomi sat and sketched on for a moment. Then she put the pad and charcoal to one side, and turned to face him. “Commodore!” Her almost lazy, drawl sent tingles down Martin’s spine at the underlying invitation of
that voice. “Martin, you are not aware of my origins. In fact, it is not a subject I make public. You may have noticed that I am very pale skinned. That is a heritage of my Circassian mother. My father was a Boyar who came and went from my mother’s life. He did not ask. He took. He departed leaving his treasure behind. I discovered that his return had been anticipated by my mother. When I was three, my father died, attempting to add to our family, with my mother’s knife in his heart.

  “There were repercussions, but the wealth of my mother was sufficient to have me sent to Alexandria to be educated, a thing unheard of among the poor and illiterate, but known in the secret world of the shapers of the political world. From Alexandria to Padua, Padua to Vienna, private tuition followed by capture.

  “Absolom was not specifically a ladies’ man, if you take my meaning, but I never met a man more avid for learning. He protected me and prevented the others from using me as they would. One pair at least, who attempted to, were both killed by his hand. He was what he was, a callous pirate, surviving however he could. His relationship with Roger Newton was always friendship. The business was important, but to Absolom, Roger Newton was a friend. I believe Roger felt the same way. When he struck Absolom I am sure he did not intend to do the damage he actually did.

  “I enjoy my learning. I understand things I would otherwise have puzzled over. I could navigate this ship, if needs must.” She smiled. “Now you see why I am still an unmarried woman at twenty-eight years.”

  Martin looked at her, and possibly the flash of lust showed as he admired the smooth line of her cheek, and the impossibly blue eyes against the dark hair that crossed her cheek. The impulse to stretch out and brush that stray hair off her cheek was almost unstoppable. He dropped his eyes. “Naomi, I may say that you are possibly…. You are the most beautiful, talented woman I have ever met. I enjoy your company and, were I yet unmarried, I would attempt to take you as my wife. Since I am married and happily so, I can enjoy your company and extend my gratitude and protection to any future activity you may wish to undertake.”

  “You miss your wife, Martin. Of that I am sure. But you are recovering quickly and soon you will be fully active again. I anticipate travelling to England with you, if that is possible. Between Absolom and you, I have an abundance of wealth, so I can pick and choose. My future is in my own hands. Now I think you should go below and relax in your cabin. Too much of this sea air will be exhausting for you.”

  Martin looked at her. “You are an exacting taskmaster,” he said with a smile. “But I promised to obey orders. So to my cabin I will go, though sleep may be the last thing on my mind.”

  “That remains to be seen. Be gone to your rest, sir.”

  Martin went below and, unaided, removed his clothes and lay down in his bed, the single sheet to cover him.

  He dozed off and was wakened by the removal of the sheet and the feeling of the half-familiar, smooth body embracing him then engulfing him. He made to move, but was stopped by warm lips and a slight adjustment of the intruder to enabled all their mutual working parts to engage as they were intended. With a mental shrug, Martin submitted, deciding this treatment was perfect for eventual recovery?

  ***

  The journey north was accomplished with maximum speed and minimum fuss. They encountered several ships on the way, one, significantly, a naval ship captained by a post captain. The encounter was fortuitous. The frigate Sufferin had ordered an American merchantman to stop. HMS Hera arrived as the frigate started to lower a boat. On Martin’s instructions, the Hera stopped in the path of the jollyboat. The officer in charge of the boat furiously motioned the schooner to move.

  Lieutenant Harris took his trumpet, and called “What ship?”

  The officer in the boat, also a Lieutenant, angrily called back “Sufferin.”

  Martin appeared on deck. The commodore’s pennant appeared at the masthead. The flag for Sufferin’s Captain to repair on board swiftly flew up the halyards. The jollyboat returned to the frigate. The lieutenant was replaced by the captain and the boat was swiftly pulled over to the schooner. Lieutenant Harris called the merchantman and sent him on his way.

  Captain Sir Peregrine Horrocks RN was not a happy man. His reception on the schooner was immaculate. He was piped aboard and escorted directly to the stern cabin where Martin waited.

  “How do you do, Sir Peregrine,” Martin said politely, offering his hand across the desk.

  “I’m put out, sir, very put out, I must say.” Sir Peregrine was obviously angry.

  “Why, sir? Should you be so angry, put out as you express it? Will you take a glass of wine with me, sir?”

  “No, I will not. You have interfered with my duties, sir.”

  Martin stood up. His full height allowed him to stand tall between the crossbeams, without his hat. “Sit down, sir, and hold your tongue. I am senior here and you will respect that or suffer the consequences!”

  The frigate captain seemed ready to explode, but common sense intervened. He took his hat off and sat as ordered.

  Martin then quietly spoke, “Now, Captain. What orders are you carrying out. I have the impression you were stopping a ship of a neutral nation for some reason?”

  “I…I was carrying out the orders I was given.” Horrocks stammered.

  Martin held his hand out. “Your orders, please.” He said without comment..

  The package of orders was passed over hesitantly. Martin rang the bell on his desk. When Peters appeared, “Bring wine!”

  He returned to reading the orders.

  Eventually he stopped. The wine appeared and he poured two glasses. One, he pushed over to his guest.

  “Tell me, Captain. Where does it say, ‘stop and harass ships under neutral flag’.”

  “It um doesn’t say per-se. sir.”

  “That is my interpretation. So explain, please. Exactly why you were intent on persecuting the ships of a friendly nation?”

  “I had my orders direct from the Admiral, Sir.”

  “And which admiral was this?”

  “I understand Admiral Bowers, sir.”

  “You know the Admiral personally then?”

  “I believe so, sir.”

  “You believe so? How, sir, is that? You either know the man or not. Which is it?”

  “I was briefed in a darkened room in the Admiralty. I was introduced to Admiral Bowers who gave me orders to stop and harass American shipping, as they would soon return to British rule and this would help things progress.”

  “Can you describe Admiral Bowers?”

  “I believe I can. He was a tall man with a thin face. I could not see the colour of his eyes, and he was wearing a wig, but of slender build.”

  Martin looked at the man quizzically. “Tall, you say. As tall as you, sir?”

  “No, taller. By six inches, I would venture.”

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “No, sir, I do not.”

  “I am Commodore Sir Martin Forest-Bowers RN. Admiral Bowers is my father. I can assure you, sir, that whoever gave you your instructions, it was not Admiral Bowers. Your description of the man is not that of my father, who is of a height with you yourself, and though he will not thank me for saying so, sadly not, as you describe this man, slim.”

  Horrocks looked appalled. “He was dressed as an Admiral. I had no reason to dispute his identity or his specific instructions.”

  Martin said, “I accept what you say, Sir Peregrine. But before leaving Portsmouth I was given a copy of the order given to stop all harassment of American shipping by British Naval craft. I am finding it difficult to understand what part of that order you believe should be disobeyed.”

  “I have no record of such an order. As I have said I was given my orders in person at the Admiralty.”

  Martin shook his head, “No record of this order? In the circumstances, I can take one of two actions. I can accept your word that you will cease all harassment, or I can arrest you for disobeying admiralty orders and inciting a fore
ign nation to make war. Which shall it be?”

  “Sir, I have been used, sir. I was truly unaware that such an order had been given.”

  “How did your appointment at the Admiralty come about. Were you summoned in the usual manner?”

  “I had already received my usual orders at the Admiralty as normal. I was contacted by Sir Bertrand McIlroy, an old school colleague of mine. He called upon me and advised me that I was summoned to a private meeting at the Admiralty with Admiral Bowers. I cannot understand why he would place me in such an embarrassing position.”

  Martin sat back. “I also am in an awkward position. I can accept that your school-friend is convinced that, with a little pressure, the Americans will return to the Crown, but that does not excuse this blatant attempt to countermand the orders of the Government in this matter. I have been involved in calling upon the authorities along this coastline for the last few months. My knowledge of these people causes me to believe there is no chance that America would return to the Crown. In addition, I am convinced the unless we stop this harassment of their ships, we will be at war as soon as the construction of their new class of frigates is someway complete. I have seen one of these ships. I command a frigate as do you. I consider that one of those frigates will be more than a match for any of ours. They do not lack good seamen and with a broadside of 22 twenty-four pounder guns, and the frames of a seventy-four, you may work it out for yourself, Captain.”

  Captain Sir Peregrine Horrocks was looking a little sick. However he drew himself up to his full height, “I am at your service, sir. I have explained my situation and I await your judgement.”

  “I’ll not judge a man who is merely obeying orders. Please send for one of your officers and stay to dine with me tonight. I have some fine vintage brandy and a superior wine.”

  “You are most kind, sir. I will send for Lieutenant Warren. He is newly promoted from Midshipman and has heard mention of you from the Gazette.”