by Lee Henschel
“You are correct, Towerlight. Boney does indeed have agents in London, placed there to pass on information. Which leads me to your situation.”
“Sir?”
“To be blunt, it is in the interest of state secrecy the accounts of that action do not appear in your records, either.”
“I suspected as much, sir.”
“There are many of us, however, who suspect it was you who was responsible for the extreme range and outstanding accuracy of Trusty on that day, and that you have not been given due credit.”
“It’s good of you to say that, sir.”
“I say it only because you deserve to know such is so.”
Towerlight nodded.
“And you should know this, as well. I personally requested you to be assigned to Eleanor, to give you the opportunity you’ve been denied.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Mr. Starling tells me Lieutenant Dunn brought a fever back from George Town and must be put ashore. Are you sorry for that?”
“No, sir.”
“I appreciate your candor. I expect my officers to be forthright as well as competent.” He leaned forward. “You’ve been in the Royal Navy long enough to understand a thing, Towerlight. In order to attain rank an officer will do best if he has a sponsor. A patron as it were.”
“Aye, sir.”
“When I was a very junior officer Admiral Christchurch was my patron. That was years ago. Now it’s time I passed on the imprimatur.”
The captain barked for me to pour them each a glass of Medeira. I jumped to it, pouring out a good measure for them both.
“So I hereby promote you to third officer. And you will assume the duties of gunnery officer without delay.”
They raised their glasses in a toast. Towerlight beamed his pleasure. “I am honoured, sir.”
“As you were, lieutenant. You show promise, Towerlight. I think your gunnery theory is worth pursuing.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“It’s your duty now to improve Eleanor’s gun sections. I want the best gunners and best gun sections assigned to the best guns . . . as in your marginalia. And I wonder, Towerlight, might there be more ‘ballistics’ you’ve crossed from your scribbling?”
“There is, sir. I’ve been working on a new device . . . for extending range and improving accuracy.”
“What is it?”
“A sabot round, sir. I believe it will improve even upon Trusty. You see, one starts with good ballistics and . . .”
“Never mind the details, Towerlight. Just keep working the problem. That’s why I’ve promoted you, to make Eleanor feared for her gunnery. Deadly accurate at long range.”
“Absolutely, sir.”
“So you will call your gunners at once and make your changes. Begin drilling in the morning watch. Dry runs for now. Most sections are a mix of experienced men and landsmen. They will need long hours of cross-training if they are to become proficient. Tomorrow we beat to quarters for the first time. An arduous task no doubt, but within the week I expect Eleanor to clear for action in under ten minutes. So your gun sections must be ready. Dismissed.”
Towerlight left and the captain sat at his desk writing in his log. I took the dishes and flatware to the wash bin in the galley and did them up. After I stowed them the captain set down his quill and turned to me. For the first time ever he seemed to regard me as kin, not just his cabin boy.
“You may go now . . . sling your hammock.”
Chapter Five
The Solent filled with channel fog that night, its dreary mist settling on Eleanor’s rigging and spars. A quiet calm—but for the water lapping at our hull, and the muted conversations drifting across from Africa, at anchor nearest us. She was an old sixty-four gun awaiting refit. Barely visible in the shadows, her stern lanterns and galleries shrouded dim in the gloom. Then, during the middle watch a single barge emerged from the mist, bows on, her oars shedding a faint glimmer of water with each stroke.
The anchor watch challenged, and the barge coxswain returned the hail, “Admiral Christchurch!”
I guessed it most uncommon for an admiral to call so late, and the anchor watch thought as much and were caught unprepared. The admiral boarded Eleanor quickly and without ceremony, bearing a small wooden chest. Ajax was onshore, so when Captain Cedric and the admiral went below it was I who saw to their needs, offering a glass of port and a wedge of the captain’s Stilton. But the admiral cared not overmuch for nourishment, and instead went direct to the purpose of his visit.
“You will report, Captain Cedric.”
“My shot lockers and powder magazine are at full capacity, sir. We are watered and provisioned for sixty days at full rations. As of this evening my first officer lists two hundred fifty-two officers and men onboard. I have twenty marines, their sergeant, and their officer, Lieutenant Kyle. I assume you are aware of Midshipman Baker’s death, sir.”
“I am.”
“Baker was senior midshipman and due to stand for lieutenant. Since his death my first officer has moved the other midshipmen up the list and will fill from below.”
“Very well.”
“Several days ago my surgeon pronounced the third officer, Lieutenant Dunn, unfit for duty. He suffers from dengue and has been sent ashore. Dunn was my gunnery officer and I have promoted my fourth lieutenant, Towerlight, to acting third and have assigned him the duties of gunnery officer.”
“I know of Towerlight. I believe he’ll serve.”
“That leaves me with one less officer, sir, and I ask for another. Informally, of course. ”
“No. Lieutenants are in short supply. You must close ranks. What else?”
“My coxswain is ashore on chandlers row. My bosun and two able seamen are on shore patrol. That is all.”
“Recall your men. Prepare to get under way. It is regrettable, but you must complete your sea trials in route to the Cadiz blockade.”
The admiral presented his wooden chest to the captain. “You will now sign for this war chest. One thousand Gibraltar reals and a thousand pounds sterling. Five hundred reals are to be delivered to Sea Lord Admiral Tiverton. He’s in command of the Cadiz Squadron on blockade duty there now and his in-shore squadron buys information from the locals in their own currency. You may use the other five hundred for the same purpose.”
I stood alert and at my proper distance, but close enough to see the glimmer of sterling reflected in the lantern light. Next the admiral withdrew a canvas packet tucked inside his coat and handed it to the captain. “Sailing orders. Open them after you weather Ushant. It also contains the signal flag code coming current in three days. The Cadiz Squadron will still be using an old code however, so when you raise their outlier its first flag hoist will be one-five-three. They will expect you to respond with two-one-five.”
The captain accepted the packet.
“I recommend you conduct a raid or two before Cadiz, captain. To replenish as needed, but mostly to gather intelligence for Tiverton. He’ll want current information. Most likely he’ll invite you to dine with him aboard Hydra. You may accept, but you must not remain long. You are to make for Gibraltar as soon as you can.”
The admiral gazed out the stern gallery windows.
“You are headed for the Mediterranean, captain. Your mission is covert. And there’s an urgency to it. So after you leave Tiverton you will not close on or communicate with any ship. If possible you will run Gibraltar under the cover of night. Once through the strait you will call at Port Mahón.”
“Minorca?”
“Aye. Last October Admiral Dauntin put ashore an expeditionary force at Port Mahón. The situation is dicey, particularly in the hills, but Mahón is secure and we are using it as a forward base.”
Admiral Christchurch narrowed his eyes, turning to face the captain. “You will have a passenger, Cedric. He’s coming aboard tonight.”
“Who is he?”
“Gottlieb.”
“A Prussian?”
&nbs
p; “No. An Egyptian. And Gottlieb isn’t his real name, but that’s what you will call him. He’s the cousin of a potential ally in Egypt . . . a Beja sheikh named Banji Hajir.”
“The Beja are Bedouins, are they not?”
“They are.”
“How can a desert tribe be of assistance to the Royal Navy?”
“Not to assist the navy, captain, but the Mamluks. No doubt Hajir will join the Mamluks to conduct raids on the French. But, more importantly, Hajir is in a position to provide us with timely intelligence which we may then pass on to the Mamluks . . . if we so choose.”
“Is it the Mamluks who are in the best position to oppose Bonaparte in Egypt . . . and not the Ottomans?”
“Unfortunately, that is so. It appears the Ottomans are indifferent to the threat. At least for the moment.”
“If this Bedouin tribe chooses to sympathize it’s because there’s something in it for them. They are hardly an ally.”
Christchurch shrugged. “They hate the French as much as we do . . . if for different reasons. But you are correct, Hajir is not our ally. We simply wish to procure his services.” He tapped the war chest, “That’s why you have a thousand pounds sterling.”
“I shall invest wisely.”
“I know you will. However, our window of opportunity in Egypt is narrow so we must act soon. Gottlieb’s been in London for over a year but we’ve only just now managed to enlist him. He’s our best link to Hajir. Our only link, if truth be told.”
The admiral began to pace.
“Bonaparte is unpredictable—even for a Frog—and no one know for sure if he’s headed for Egypt. Be that as it may, our informants say he has formed a fleet of over three hundred ships and is about to depart from Toulon. Admiral Nelson’s sure Bonaparte’s headed for Egypt, so that’s where he’s headed, as well. And then there’s the Directorate. Our informants in Paris say that although the Directorate is pleased with Bonaparte’s successes in Italy there are many who suspect the man’s ambitions.”
“So I assume they are pleased he has plans to leave France again—if for no other reason than to keep him out of Paris.”
“Yes, good for the Directorate . . . but a problem for us, and most likely for Egypt well as. That’s where you come in. Gottlieb claims to have political connections both in London and Alexandria so you will treat the man with diplomatic formality. And you will make arrangements for him to occupy the great cabin by himself.”
The admiral stopped abrupt to run a sharp eye over me.
“Say your name, boy.”
“Harriet, sir.”
“You are alert. You follow this discussion with interest.” He turned back to the captain. “I believe he’s a keen one, yet unobtrusive. But is he reliable?”
“A nephew, sir. Newly met. I can’t vouch for him.”
“I am reliable, sir.”
I knew immediate I’d wrongly spoken, had forgotten to keep my mouth shut . . . and the captain spun and glared at me, his face turning a dark fury. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the canvas packet he still held in his hands. I think he could have ripped it apart. A dour silence filled the cabin until the admiral approached me. He crooked a cold, boney finger under my chin to lift my face and look me in the eye.
“Captain Cedric is your commander, boy. It’s beneath his station to respond to your cheek.” He withdrew his hand. “But I am a free agent onboard this ship. I can do as I see fit.” He cleared his throat. “Now I wonder, boy, if you are some sort of wild oat, sorely in need of discipline. Or perhaps you’re simply too young to serve, and should be put ashore.” He paused for a moment, then went on. “I think, however, that you are neither. You are, instead, an opportunity.”
He turned away and paced once more. “I’m sure you will agree, Captain, that in these times when one sees opportunity he must seize it.”
“Aye, sir.”
“I presume this boy is your attendant, but I want him assigned to Gottlieb. Gottlieb works for the Crown . . . but he is suspected of having his own motives as well. That is acceptable—as long as his motives are not antithetical to our own.” The admiral addressed me again. “That is why you will attend Gottlieb. I expect you to observe him sharply, and in the discreet manner you have been observing us. You will report everything you see and hear to your captain. Do you understand?”
“Aye, sir!”
He turned to the captain. “Do you have any further questions, Captain Cedric?”
“Just one, sir. How shall my gunnery officer explain to gun sections four and five that they have no carronades in place?”
The admiral nodded. “I’m sure that will be the first thing Gottlieb tells you when he comes aboard.”
“Then I have no further questions, sir.”
The admiral nodded.
“Harriet! Fetch the Médoc and pour a glass for Admiral Christchurch and me.”
I poured, and the men raised their glasses.
“To the King! God bless Him.”
Chapter Six
Captain Cedric sent word to the deck officer and soon Eleanor’s signal gun sounded the harbour, followed by her recall rockets charging the dense fog. Red rocket, blue rocket, then red again. Shortly thereafter the shore patrol returned in the cutter, with Ajax following hard by in the captain’s gig.
The middle watch had just begun when the admiral’s barge hooked on once more. After several ponderous attempts the anchor watch managed to sway a cumbersome sea trunk onboard. Then Eleanor’s passenger, Gottlieb, struggled on the tumblehome and through the entry port. The bosun piped him aboard and he was formally greeted by the captain and the first officer, both wearing ceremonial dress.
They escorted him to the great cabin. The man was soaked through with mist and spray and my first task was to help him towel off. When I went for a fresh set of trousers from his trunk I froze, having just grazed the cold steel of a sword laying unsheathed under the clothes. It had a grand jeweled hilt. Rubies and emeralds I think, with diamonds too, and their gleam and shimmer transfixed. I looked at Gottlieb to see if he noticed, and he watched me with his dark, deep-set eyes. He seemed neither young nor old. Older than my brother John, nineteen, and younger than my father, who was forty. A slight fellow, Gottlieb . . . framed delicate with thin bones and hands restful calm. His hair was jet black, and napped tight. And he had an olive complexion, both smooth and clear. He regarded his surroundings in quiet composure. After a courteous moment Rainey excused himself and I stood by while Captain Cedric addressed Gottlieb.
“This is the great cabin, Gottlieb. It will serve as your quarters for as long as you are aboard. My apologies, but as you see this is a war ship, cramped for space and hardly accommodating. Not what you’re used to, no doubt.”
Gottlieb offered a vague shrug which might have suggested this was only to be expected or that he’d seen worse.
“We will get under way as weather permits, sir, which I expect will be on the morning tide. In the meantime, I suggest you remain in your quarters for your own safety. The boy here will tend to your needs. Do have any questions or concerns, Gottlieb?”
“How much lumber do you have on your ship, Captain?”
“We have the standard consignment of lumber, sir.”
“Enough to build stalls for two horses? With space for several weeks of hay? And enough fresh water for them?”
“I would have to confer with the ship’s carpenter. But I believe so.”
“See that you do. We will take two horses onboard at Port Mahón. A stallion and his mare.”
“I assume they are part of this mission.”
“That is correct. They belong to my cousin, Bani Hajir. Two Arabians from two proud lines. They are exceptional animals. He is very fond of them, but seven months ago they were stolen from him at Amunia Bay.”
“Amunia? Where is that?”
“Egypt. A fishing village west of Alexandria. Since they were stolen the proper respect for Banji Hajir is in decline among the Beja. The shame
of the theft is too much for Hajiir to bear. Only the horses will restore his reputation and his dignity. And for my cousin’s personal revenge the beheading of the thieves, of course.”
“Of course.”
“I have recently confirmed these horses are now at a finca. You would say farm, I think, or estate. It is called Otra Nova. It is near the fishing village of Nagua on the southern coast of Minorca, about ten miles west of Port Mahón. The purpose of this mission is to steal these horses from Otra Nova and return them to my cousin in Amunia.”
“Couldn’t you just buy them?”
“I will not dignify that question with an answer.”
“I apologize, sir, and withdraw it. But correct me if I’m wrong, the Bedouin are nomadic and live in the desert. The Sahara is of a considerable expanse so . . . once we arrive in Amunia how will you find your cousin?”
“It is simply a matter of timing. Simple, yet of utmost importance.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“Late every summer the Beja make camp outside Amunia for one month. So we will simply let my cousin find us . . . in Amunia. But there is an urgency. If we are not in Amunia when the Beja are then this mission will fail. That is unacceptable. So permit me to repeat myself . . . only when my cousin’s horses are returned, and the thieves beheaded, only then will Hajir regain the respect of the Beja. And when he learns the British are involved in this effort he will assist you in your own intentions in Egypt.”
“You are certain our involvement will be enough to convince Hajir to assist us?”
“It will become more likely. But to begin you must build stalls on deck for the horses. This is why you have two less cannon on your ship. You must begin work immediately.”
“As you wish, Gottlieb. Is there anything else?”
“No, sir.”
After the captain left, silence fell in the great cabin until I remembered my duties.
“Do you wish for a glass of wine, sir?”