Alexis trained her pistol on him carefully. “I’ve heard enough out of you. Peters, if he lowers his hands any further, shoot him.” She turned back to Alan. “Don’t listen to him Alan, we’ll get you back to the ship and Mister Comerford will fix you up. Just hang on.”
“I don’t think so, sir,” Alan muttered weakly. He coughed. “Oh hell, that hurts.”
“Let him go, girl,” Horsfall said.
“I said enough, Horsfall! Or I’ll shoot you now and save on the hanging!”
Horsfall laughed. “Oh, I don’t think so, girl. You’ve no clue where this ship is and there’s only me and young Brightey can con it. So unless you’d like to drift until we all starve, it’s little choice y’have.”
Alan coughed again and Alexis saw that there was blood in his mouth. He grimaced and grasped her hand tightly. “Thank you, sir.”
“For what?” she asked, swallowing hard.
“For that second chance.” He coughed again and had to turn his head to spit blood from it. “I’m sorry for that, sir. Never could hold my drink …”
Alexis glanced up to see that Peters had his pistol trained on the four pirates, then set hers down beside her and stroked Alan’s forehead. “It’s all right, Alan.”
“Kind of you to say so, sir, but I’ve done some …” He trailed off, then his expression grew puzzled. “Always thought I’d hang.”
His grip slackened and his eyes closed slowly. Alexis saw that her sleeve, where she grasped his hand, was soaked in blood. She sat for a moment, feeling tears on her face.
“When you’re done caterwauling, girl,” Horsfall said. “We’ll start the negotiating.”
Alexis clenched her jaw, staring at Alan’s still face. She knew Horsfall was right. With Gorbett unconscious and her own difficulties navigating, she’d be hard-pressed to sail the ship with a working navigation plot. Not knowing how the pirates’ plot was encrypted made the task impossible.
She glanced up at Peters and saw that his hand was starting to shake as he held the pistol. There were only the two of them now, and if Peters gave in to fear of the more numerous pirates, they’d be lost. She looked at the group of pirates behind Horsfall. They were looking over their shoulders at Horsfall from their position against the aft bulkhead and she could see them start to smile. Horsfall would always be working some angle to his advantage, and the other pirates would always follow him.
Alexis took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax the tension that filled her. Peters and Gorbett were all that were left of the little crew she’d come aboard with, and it was her responsibility to get them home safely, no matter the cost.
Very deliberately, she grasped her pistol and stood, raising it to point at the pirate.
Horsfall snorted in derision. “You’re not scaring me, girl. You nee …” The crack of the shot was very loud in the silent compartment. The bullet took Horsfall on the bridge of his nose, expanding as it was intended to so as to not continue on and damage critical equipment. Horsfall’s head jerked back, spraying the pirates behind him with a fine mist of blood, and his body fell to the floor.
Alexis turned her gaze and the pistol to the other pirates.
“Which of you is young Brightey?”
Twenty-One
“Please, sir, you need to get some rest.”
“I’ll be fine, Peters,” Alexis assured him. She’d not slept in the four days since they’d retaken the ship and the small medkit they’d found was almost out of stimulants. Instead, she stalked Grappel’s tiny quarterdeck keeping her eyes constantly on the pirate, Brightey, and his work at the navigation plot. When she allowed him to sleep, and Peters kept a close eye on the course Brightey had left, she checked his bonds personally and moved to guard the hatch from the sail locker where the other two pirates were. “Brightey here says we should make Eidera soon, and he doesn’t want to disappoint me. Do you, Brightey?”
The pirate swallowed hard and didn’t look up from his console. “No, ma’am, I surely don’t. And hope to see sign of the Eidera pilot boat any time now, sir, but can’t guarantee it.”
Alexis narrowed her eyes and regarded the pirate sternly. Brightey paled and ducked his head back to the plot, clearly terrified. She had a moment’s sympathy for him but forced the feeling down before she could express it. Part of her thought it odd that the grown man who’d lived as a pirate for years was so afraid of her and winced inwardly at the threat that had instilled that fear.
“You will pilot this ship back to Eidera, Brightey,” she’d told him after she’d shot Horsfall and Brightey had identified himself. “Straight there and no tricks, or you’ll regret it. Do you know what I’ll do to you if you don’t?”
He’d nodded. “Shoot me like you did Horsfall, ma’am.”
She’d looked him in the eye, face blank and expressionless. “No, Brightey. I will put you in a suit, bind your hands so you can’t dump your air and put you over the side. Then I will stop this ship just out of reach and watch you die.”
She backed away from the console and leaned wearily against the aft bulkhead, still liberally sprayed with Horsfall’ blood. She closed her eyes, just for a moment, and felt them burn with fatigue. Peters moved to stand beside her and spoke quietly. “You can’t stay awake forever, sir. We can tie him to the console and I’ll watch him for any funny business. Them others’re safe in the sail locker and can’t get in — we’ve closed off the access they used to get into the hold.”
“Perhaps you’re right, Peters,” she sighed. She raised her hand and saw that it was trembling; though whether from fatigue or the stimulants or both, she didn’t know. There were still stains of blood on her skin and caked under her nails. It seemed no amount of washing in the pinnace’s cramped head would get the stains off her. “I’ll see out this watch and, perhaps, you can stand the next on your own.”
“Thank you, sir. It’ll do you good, you’ll see.”
Brightey straightened suddenly at the navigation console. “I’ve a light ahead,” he announced. “Fine on the port bow, up twenty.”
Alexis straightened. “Steer for it,” she ordered. “Peters, are our colors flying?”
“Bright as can be, sir,” he assured her, smiling as he moved forward to pass the order for sail changes to the pirates in the locker. “We’re lit fore and aft. That has to be the pilot boat, sir, has to be.”
“I certainly hope so, Peters,” she agreed. She rubbed at her face, tired beyond measure.
Within minutes, Brightey announced that the lights ahead were gone, heralding the assumption that it was, indeed, the Eidera pilot boat, now transitioned to normal-space to announce an arriving ship to the system. Only minutes after that saw Brightey calling out another contact, this much brighter than the last, which sent Peters scurrying to the signals station and peering through the ship’s optics to identify it.
“It’s Merlin, sir!” he announced excitedly. “She must have been perched right on the transition point to come that fast!”
As the two ships converged, Alexis taxed Peters’ knowledge of signals to the limit as she had him transmitting the events of the past week to the other ship. She almost sobbed with relief hours later with the ship safely at the transition point and Peters reporting from the sail locker hatch that the sails were uncharged and the two pirates were safely inboard. “Transition, please, Brightey,” she ordered.
The ship’s screens began lighting up with data as the external sensors came to life and began sending information again. On the forward screen was the blue and white ball of Eidera, hanging majestically against the backdrop of stars. “They’re beautiful,” Alexis murmured.
“Yes, they are, sir,” Peters agreed, returning to the signals station. “Thought sure I’d never see them or old Merlin again, sir. But you brought us home, right enough.”
The starboard screen showed Merlin herself, and a boat already separating from the top of the ship and bending a course toward them.
“Signal from Merlin, sir,” Pet
ers announced. “Fine Work and Captain to Repair Onboard instanter, sir.”
“‘Captain’?”
“Well, you’ve been captain of this old bucket these last days, haven’t you, sir?” Peters asked grinning. Alexis looked at him, not understanding. “They’re rendering you honors, sir,” he explained.
“Honors,” Alexis repeated dully, glancing around the bloodstained quarterdeck, her eyes resting finally on the still form of the sailing master and thinking of the bodies of Alan and the two marines stored carefully in the hold, as she’d had no heart to leave them behind in darkspace. Something she’d not scrupled with in disposing of Horsfall. I suppose they don’t yet understand how utterly I’ve failed.
Merlin’s boat, carrying Roland, the surgeon and far more spacers and marines than Alexis thought strictly necessary, made fast to the little Grappel’s air lock and sent a new crew aboard. Roland nodded to Alexis as she passed him on her way through to the boat.
“Mister Carew,” he said.
Alexis blinked in shock. I do believe that’s the first time he’s called me that. “Mister Roland,” she said, nodding back.
Once she, Peters, and the men carrying Mister Gorbett on a stretcher were aboard, the boat detached and made its way back to Merlin.
The first face she saw upon coming aboard Merlin was Philip’s. He waited just inside the hatchway to the boat’s lock. Alexis wanted to throw her arms around him and sob with relief that he’d recovered, but that would hardly be appropriate. She winced at the sight of his face. No longer wrapped in bandaging, it sported a jagged line that ran from his forehead, thankfully missing his right eye, and then down his cheek to his jawline.
“It’s a sight, isn’t it?” he asked, grinning. “Comerford assures me I’ll have the scar for a time.” He preceded her down the ladder and slid open the hatch to the gunroom for her. “Captain would like to see you.”
“Of course,” she said, though she’d much rather have collapsed into her bunk. Or perhaps, a shower first — it had been … some time since she’d last bathed.
Instead, she made her way through the gunroom, a gunroom that seemed curiously full of spacers and all of them staring at her gravely. Alexis kept her face down, unable to meet their eyes. Not wanting to see one of Alan’s mates or any of the marines, not wanting to see the accusing looks she was sure she’d receive for failing to bring their friends home safely. She almost sighed with relief as she slid the hatch to the companionway shut but knew she’d now have to face the captain.
The marine sentry at the captain’s hatch straightened his shoulders, eyes stiffly forward and without the small grin and wink that those she’d sparred with usually gave her. Alexis’ heart fell further, if that were possible, at this fresh condemnation. He rapped sharply on the hatchway and called out, “Midshipman Carew reporting, sir!”
Alexis entered, finding the captain at his desk.
“Mister Carew.”
“Sir,” she said. She reached up to remove her beret and realized that she didn’t have it. Lost at some point during her time aboard Grappel. She straightened her shoulders and stared straight ahead, bracing herself for whatever the captain had to say about the debacle of her time away from Merlin.
“I asked Mister Easely to send you forward after you’d had a chance to clean up and rest a bit.”
Alexis was suddenly quite aware of her condition, grimy and bedraggled after nearly a week aboard the smaller ship, during which she’d done no more than to wash her hands and face quickly before returning to the quarterdeck.
“I’m sorry, sir.” She swayed on her feet, wanting nothing more than to close her eyes and hide somewhere.
Grantham shook his head. “As you’re here …” He met her eye. “Mister Carew, I wish you to know that your actions aboard Grappel have been noted and will figure prominently in my report to Admiralty.”
So bad as that? Not even something that can be dealt with aboard ship? She thought of Acker’s explanation of the flogging and thought she understood it better now. Over, done with and forgotten.
But clearly, her own failure was such that it would require far more in the way of consequences.
Perhaps I should simply resign and return to Dalthus. Marry whomever my grandfather can find who’ll still have me and be done with it.
She realized that Grantham was still speaking, but she had no sense of what he’d said.
Probably listing everything I should have done instead.
Her vision blurred and her eyes filled with tears.
“I’m sorry, sir!” she blurted out, unable to contain it any longer.
Grantham stopped speaking, eyes widening.
“I’m sorry,” she went on in a rush. “I thought things were in hand, even after the storm began, but I didn’t keep a close enough watch on the pirates.” She felt the tears running down her cheeks and knew it was improper, but fatigue and events had caught up with her and she couldn’t stop herself. “I should have known they were up to something, that Horsfall had a look about him from the start, but I didn’t and they killed Corsey and Bays, sir.” She closed her eyes. “Alan saved us more than once, sir. He stopped me from drawing on Horsfall at the start, which surely would have ended with us all dead, and then convinced them to keep us alive with his story of my grandfather’s wealth. But I didn’t see it, sir. If I had, we might have made better plans … might have … they all might not have died … ” She sniffed loudly and blinked her eyes to clear them. “There’s no need to involve Admiralty, sir. I’ll resign voluntarily if only I can find some way back to Dalthus …” She trailed off, unable to continue.
“Were you listening to me at all, Mister Carew? No,” he said, rising and coming around his desk, “I see that you were not. Am I to understand from your words that you consider your time aboard Grappel a failure?”
Alexis nodded, unable to speak for fear she’d begin babbling again.
“Well I certainly do not and have so written in my dispatches.”
“Sir, I …”
“Undermanned and reliant on captured pirates to man the ship, blown off course and away from support by a storm, taken by surprise by those same pirates, armed now and able to move throughout the ship via unexpected means — arms and means, mind you, that went undiscovered by the more numerous and far more experienced boarding party that first took her — and, finally, after retaking the ship against all expectations and faced with an unknown position and an altered navigation plot, to convince those same pirates — men who know full well they’ll hang when caught — to pilot the ship. Name for me the officer who will have faced this better than yourself, Mister Carew. This paragon of foresight and ability, for I have yet to make his acquaintance and I should dearly wish to do so.”
Alexis stared at him, unable to speak.
“Good lord, girl,” Grantham said, his voice hoarse and his face softening. “What do you expect of yourself?”
Alexis opened her mouth to answer, but Grantham held up a hand.
“No,” he said. “You are clearly exhausted and distraught. We will speak of this again, but for now I expect you to recover from your ordeal — I’ll speak to the purser about your water allotment, so please take all the time you need in washing up.”
“Thank you, sir,” she managed.
“We shall be sailing for Dalthus immediately, for the pirates’ other ship contained conclusive proof of Daviel Coalson’s involvement.”
Alexis looked up sharply at this, her eyes narrowing.
“And that is a look that suits you far better than the mask of hangdog sorrow you’ve been wearing.” He regarded her sternly. “You will stay with us until we’ve taken him up for his part in this matter. Should you still wish to resign your position at that time, you may do so. But I tell you with all candor, I would consider it a great loss — both personally and to Her Majesty’s service.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Alexis waited, but Grantham was silent for so long that it caused her
to wonder if she’d been dismissed.
“My own first captain said something to me when I was a young midshipman, Mister Carew,” he said finally. “Something which has just sprung to mind for me.”
“What’s that, sir?”
“He said, ‘If only you could see yourself with a mirror of others’ eyes’.” Grantham smiled sadly. “Captain Keene fancied himself a bit of a poet, I think.”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
“I didn’t either, Mister Carew, not truly. Not until today. Perhaps it will not take you quite so long as I.”
“I … thank you, sir.”
“Very well then, go and get some rest.” Alexis nodded and reached for the hatchway. “Oh, Mister Carew, one last thing.”
“Sir?”
“Robert Alan’s time in the Navy was all aboard this ship. I knew what to expect of him as well as any of the crew and I can tell you with certainty, Mister Carew, for the man Robert Alan was when he came to the Navy, for the man he was prior to encountering you … for that man, going over to pirates would not have been a ruse. Please do consider that as well.”
“I will, sir.”
Though she was exhausted, whatever of the stimulants left in her system unable to overcome the fatigue of the last several days, she simply couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping in her grimy condition. She made her way slowly, almost staggering to the gunroom heads, glad to see that the crew had mostly left the area. Save for three men, she saw, waiting near the heads themselves.
“Mister Carew?” one said as she approached, nodding and raising one hand to his forelock.
Please, I just want to get a little clean and then sleep.
“Yes?”
“Wiggin, sir. Otter and Paradine,” he said, nodding to the other two. “We’re … were Alan’s messmates.”
Alexis Carew: Books 1, 2, and 3 Page 25