The Tempest: The Dorset Boy Book 5

by Christopher C Tubbs

  “French colours please and run up the fever flag. Let’s not tempt fate.”

  The Spanish frigate continued to catch them up rapidly as with the prize they could only make around six knots. Marty was bothered by it as its approach felt aggressive but why, he didn’t know. The Spanish were allies, or at least not enemies so he kept formation with the prize. They were still a day away from Barbados, so they had nowhere to run to apart from the Turks anyway.

  He decided to bluff that they were French and he was escorting the merchantman. They genuinely had fever on board, so he had a legitimate excuse to refuse to be boarded.

  The Spanish Frigate caught up with them an hour before dark and came up beside them. Marty had the men at quarters, but they were outgunned as the Spaniard was a thirty-eight twelve pounders versus their twenty-eight.

  “Hola signor,” the captain called across in English. “I would ask that you take down your false colours and bring your ship to a halt.”

  “I am sorry. I don’t speak English!” Marty called back.

  “Oh, I think you do,” the Spaniard replied and made a gesture. The gun ports flew up and their guns ran out. A figure appeared from behind the captain and glared across at Marty. It was McElvoy.

  The Tempest and their prize hove to under the guns of the Spanish Frigate that was called El Formidiable. McElvoy and a lieutenant came across and climbed the side.

  “You should have killed me when you ‘ad the chance,” he snarled at Marty and waved a pistol at him.

  “Spain be at war with England now and I will get this ship for me own.”

  “How did you know where to find us?” Marty asked.

  “Your man dropped of the prize crews by Puerto Rico, and they told me which way you was heading. The Spanish Navy were keen enough to catch you as the ships your man took were part owned by the admiral.”

  The lieutenant came back from walking to the foredeck before Marty could ask about the Spanish ships. He was doing his best not to run.

  “Dios, they really have the fever on this ship.”

  McElvoy looked alarmed and glanced down the deck. Samuel, who stood near him, saw his chance and took a step that brought him directly behind McElvoy, reached out, wrapped his left arm around his neck and his right across the top of his head, and with a violent twist, broke his neck before dropping him to the deck.

  The crack of breaking bone caused the lieutenant to spin around with his pistol raised. He looked at McElvoy’s body dispassionately. As far as he was concerned, the man was a traitor to his own nation and probably received the justice he deserved. Blaez chose that moment to arrive and sniffed at the body before cocking a leg and peeing on it.

  “Senior, you will come with me and bring your savage with you,” the lieutenant ordered. Marty smirked at him and asked which one.

  A prize crew was brought on board, the crew of the Tempest disarmed, and the guns were unloaded. Marty, Blaez, and Samuel were taken to the frigate in the Spanish gig. Marty refused to leave without either of them. Halfway across, a call went up from the Tempest.

  “Aye, Aye, Aye, Ayeee, Aye, Aye, Ahooooo,” Marty smiled; his men had his back.

  Marty climbed the tumblehome and stood on the deck of the frigate. Samuel climbed up behind him with Blaez slung around his neck. The Spanish captain stood on his quarterdeck dressed in a uniform resplendent with gold braid and frilled shirt. The lieutenant went over and reported. When he came back, he said,

  “El Capitán has ordered that to protect his crew. The sick men on your ship will be placed in the pinnace with a crew to take them to the nearest British Island. Your ship and the French merchantman will be escorted to Havana in Cuba.”

  Marty exploded.

  “What kind of inhuman act is that to cast sick men adrift?” he shouted and lunged for the lieutenant only to get a musket butt in the small of the back from an attendant marine, sending him crashing to the deck. Samuel held Blaez back from savaging the man. The lieutenant bent over him and sneered,

  “If it was up to me, I would hang you for a pirate but El Capitán wants you as a hostage for your men to behave.”

  Marty struggled to his feet and looked over at the Tempest. Sure enough, the sick men were being slung over the side in nets suspended from tackles attached to the main spar and into the pinnace that was hauled up alongside. He saw Shelby in the pinnace already along with the Basques, John Smith, and two of the Africans he rescued from slavery.

  Antton looked over to him and saw him at the rail. He waved and gave him a sign Marty knew was one the Basques used for ‘bless you’. He waved back and returned the sign. Then, he was seized by a guard, who let go almost immediately when Blaez snarled at him.

  “If your dog bites any of my men, I will shoot him myself,” the lieutenant warned him. He was then taken to a cage in the brig and locked in with Samuel and Blaez after being shackled to the hull.

  Chapter 8: Bad News Travels Fast.

  Antton took command of the Pinnace as soon as the Spanish ordered the sick to be loaded into it. He had John Smith quickly copy a chart of the area and had it in mind to make for Jamaica. That would make use of the prevailing winds and get them to somewhere they could get help as soon as possible.

  Shelby refused to leave the sick, so he was there along with Fletcher, Franco, Matai, Simon, and Chipo. They had enough men to sail the pinnace and he made sure the stores that were already stowed in the locker were supplemented by more smuggled off the Tempest by willing collaborators.

  Once everyone was aboard, the Spanish lieutenant who oversaw the Tempest threw the ropes down and waved them away. He looked relieved but would have a much different expression if he knew Antton was swearing on his mother’s grave that he would kill the pig.

  They ran the passage between Cuba and Haiti in a gale, running before the wind and waves. The pinnace was agile and light and ran the surf, speeding towards their destination. Three of the sick including Tom showed signs of recovery but the fourth, a young lad from Devon, went into the second phase and started to black vomit. Against all their instincts they agreed that he should be put out of his misery for both his own sake and the greater good. Shelby fed him a massive dose of laudanum and Garai shot him between the eyes before they threw the body over the side with a prayer for his soul to go straight to heaven. It would never be mentioned again.

  They ran into Port Royal three days after setting out from the Tempest and Shelby went straight to the Flagship. He returned to tell them that Admiral Hood had returned to England and Admiral Duckworth had said that even if he wanted to help, he didn’t have any ships available and that as it was now hurricane season.

  Shelby wrote to Caroline explaining what happened and where they were. He also explained that it was hurricane season and that all major shipping was stuck in port until the end of February at the earliest. Fletcher bribed a schooner captain with an extortionate amount of gold to take them to St John’s. The man was understandably reluctant, and they island hopped, running into port at the first sign of bad weather.

  They arrived in St John’s in early January and told James the news, which he received with a mixture of shock and disbelief. He had always considered Marty to be infallible and indestructible. They immediately started preparations to make sure the Eagle would be ready to do whatever was needed and to sell off the prizes to give them some working capital.

  In Cheshire around about the same time Caroline read Shelby’s letter that had arrived via Navy packet and immediately set off to London. She sent a message to Martin’s sister Helen that she would be sending the children and their nanny down to Church Knowle to stay with them for a while. Once she arrived in London she went straight to the home of William Wickham.

  Wickham’s butler let her in and showed her to the library where Wickham sat reading a report. When he saw her enter, he stood immediately knowing that if she was there trouble wasn’t far behind.

  “My dear Lady Caroline, to what do I owe this honour?” he said w
ith a smile.

  “Save you platitudes,” she snapped back, “Martin has been captured by the Spanish.”

  Wickham sat with a thump as that was completely new information to him.

  “How? Where?” He stuttered, taken aback.

  “By a Spanish frigate that surprised them before the news we were at war again with Spain had reached him,” she told him.

  “What are we going to do to get him back?” She asked with a look that said it wasn’t negotiable.

  Wickham tried to calm her and sent a messenger to Hood, who was there in less than an hour after he was given the news, paced up and down thinking.

  “The Navy cannot and will not get involved with this as it would destroy Martin’s cover story.” He told her sternly and held up his hand to forestall the protest that he could see her about to make. “However, the Intelligence Service looks after its own and Armand and the Alouette can leave for the Caribbean at short notice. I will send him a message to prepare to leave as soon as possible.” He paused thinking. “When was he captured?”

  “At the end of October.” Caroline replied calmer now Hood’s formidable and legendry planning skills were visibly in action.

  “Two and a half months. He is being held where?” He asked.

  “Havana on Cuba is where they think they would have been taken as that was the nearest Spanish port.” Caroline answered.

  “And the clipper they captured is still free?”

  “Yes, Shelby said that they would be joining it in St John’s.”

  “Hmm, a clipper and a sloop of war is not much of a rescue fleet. We could do with another ship,” Hood said with a sideways, sly look at Caroline.

  “The Bethany is in port,” she immediately offered, “we can use her.”

  Hood and Wickham exchanged a look as neither missed the ‘we’ in that offer.

  “You are intending to accompany Armand?” Wickham asked.

  Caroline just looked at him.

  “I’ll take that as confirmation,” he said breaking eye contact, as her stare made him uncomfortable.

  “She will need more crew and better guns.” Caroline added thoughtfully and started to twirl a lock of her hair around her finger. “Better and more arms for the crew too.”

  Hood raised his eyebrows at Wickham and made a silent shush sign as he let her think things through.

  “Fletcher is with them so where can we get them?” she asked Wickham and before he could answer she looked at Hood and said. “Where is Captain Turner these days?”

  Wickham went to his desk and started writing a note after pulling the bell to summon a servant. Hood grinned at her.

  “It just so happens that his ship is in for a refit and he is on shore at the moment, what do you have in mind.”

  “We need a fighting captain in charge of the Bethany. Tarrant is a good captain, but he is no fighter and I am sure if I ask him, he would help.” Caroline replied.

  Caroline left Wickham and Hood to organise what they would and went to James Turner’s house. The butler was surprised to see Caroline stood at the door when he answered it and showed her straight into the drawing room where Juliette, Turner’s wife sat doing some needlepoint.

  “My dear Caroline this is a surprise!” she exclaimed as she put aside her handiwork and stood to embrace her. Then she looked into her face and saw the concern etched there and asked.

  “What is wrong? Are the children alright?”

  “The children are fine, I need to talk to James urgently, Marty is in trouble.”

  Captain Turner joined them a short time later as was out at White’s his club and had come after receiving a message from Juliette. He sat and calmly asked Caroline to start from the beginning and explain what was wrong. Once she finished, she looked at him expectantly.

  “So, you want me to captain the Bethany on a rescue mission to the Caribbean where we will join up with other elements of this ‘Special Operations Flotilla,’ whatever that is. Then invade Spanish territory and recover both Martin and his ship.” He summarised.

  Caroline nodded with a beaming smile.

  “Further you will be joining me on the trip, and it will be outside of my duty as a Navy captain and never officially recognised as a Navy action.”

  Caroline nodded again, now with a slightly worried look as she felt she might be losing him.

  Juliette looked at him and said, “James! Martin is our friend you must help!”

  “I never said I wouldn’t my dear I just wanted to make sure I had all the facts,” he replied with a loving smile.

  “I will need several days to gather key members of my crew. Where is the Bethany berthed?”

  “India dock.” Caroline replied; relief plainly written on her face.

  “How many crew do you have?” Turner asked.

  “Seventy-five merchant sailors. Mainly topmen and landsmen with a few that double up as gunners,” Caroline replied.

  “I know enough. I will meet you on the Bethany in one week. I trust you will explain to Captain Tarrant the change in command.”

  The conversation with Tarrant didn’t go the way the Caroline planned. First of all, Tarrant wasn’t about to give up his ship to someone else and he damn well wasn’t about to stand by and do nothing when his employer was in trouble. He agreed that Turner was eminently more qualified than he in matters of war, but this was his ship and he knew how to get the best out of her.

  She could think of nothing else but to bring the two men together and hope they could resolve their differences and asked that Tarrant meet with Turner at White’s. She resolved to be there despite the club being men only and turned up at the door expecting to have to bribe or threaten to gain access. She was completely taken aback when the doorman greeted her.

  “Lady Candor. Welcome. Captain Turner has arranged for you to accompany him at the meeting with Captain Tarrant in a private room. If you would be so kind as to follow me.”

  She was so surprised she just followed quietly after him and tried to ignore the exclamations and gasps of outrage as she passed members sat in over-stuffed leather chairs, wreathed in cigar or pipe smoke nursing glasses of brandy or port. She recognised one or two and couldn’t resist acknowledging them with a nod and a smile.

  She was even more surprised when she was shown into the room, a private dining room if she wasn’t mistaken, to find not just the two captains but Admiral Hood and a tall, tough looking individual dressed in civilian clothes.

  All four men stood, bowed and Turner introduced John Batrick, his cox.

  “You trained Marty, didn’t you?” Caroline asked him.

  “Yes mam,” he replied, “he were a fast learner.”

  “Another Dorset man?” She asked on hearing his accent.

  “Somerset,” he relied with a smile, “a bit further down the coast.”

  Hood opened proceedings by introducing himself and the Navy men to Tarrant, giving their associations with Marty and their experience.

  “Well,” Tarrant observed, “I am in exalted company and I appreciate you all gathering around to help my Lord and employer. But I am unwilling to be left out of this venture and the Bethany is my ship and no one knows her better than I.”

  Turner nodded in acknowledgment and said.

  “Captain Tarrant. I have a ship of my own and have no desire to oust you from your berth, and in fact, taking the captaincy could give rise to certain uncomfortable questions from the Navy board. Isn’t that so, Admiral?”

  “Yes, would be damn irregular and all that.” Hood agreed.

  “So, I would suggest that, officially, I, and certain members of my crew, will join your ship for a leisure cruise at the invitation of Lady Candor and make ourselves available, should the occasion arise, to assist in any way we can if required.” He sat back with a satisfied smile on his face.

  “Spoken like a damn lawyer.” Hood guffawed.

  There was a knock at the door and a waiter entered with a tray of glasses and a decanter.

>   “A rather nice 1789 Bordeaux,” Hood stated in anticipation.

  “Yes, it is,” Caroline smiled at him, “I am the club’s supplier.”

  Hood laughed delightedly he admired Caroline greatly and thought her forays into commerce were amusing. If he knew just how deeply and how many markets, she influenced he might have thought again.

  “It would appear that we have an accord then.” Hood announced as the waiter passed around full glasses. “A toast, to a successful recover of our errant friend and confusion to the enemy!”

  Two weeks later the Bethany was ready to sail. They had upgraded her main armament to four, eighteen-pound longs amidships with two twelve-pound longs forward and another two aft per side, and four thirty-two-pound carronades aft on the quarterdeck, which had entailed modifying the old gun ports and cutting new ones. She also sported a massive sixty-four-pound carronade on a swivel mount on the foredeck. She could now run and fight.

  They set out down the Thames to the estuary and headed down the coast to The Downs where they rendezvoused with the Alouette and Caroline got another surprise. When the boat came over to bring Armand there was another person with him.

  “Lady Caroline may I introduce Linette, a member of Mr. Wickham’s intelligence service.” Armand said as he presented the very pretty, petite blond female to her.

  “Martin has told me of you, but he didn’t tell me that you were quite so beautiful.” Caroline said casting an evaluating eye over the French spy who returned the compliment. The men held their breath as to them the two looked like a pair of she wolves ready to do combat. The girls, however, had other ideas,

  “He never stopped talking about you.” Linette laughed. “Mr. Wickham thought that it might be useful for me to come along and to ‘elp scout out the enemy base.”

  “Linette also speaks Spanish and will infiltrate Havana

  with Ryan Thompson. He speaks and looks Spanish and he could pass for a Spaniard. The two of them will gather as much information as they can about Martin’s whereabouts and the location and condition of the Tempest and her crew.” Armand informed them.