by Michael Aye
“Sir! ‘Ere, sir!” Buck finally got Anthony’s attention. “Are you well enough to move, sir? This ship is taking on water fast and is in danger of sinking.”
“Aye, Mr. Buck. Have our wounded removed to Drakkar and then conduct a quick search of this vessel if conditions permit.”
“Aye, sir,” Buck replied as he turned away and set working parties about their assigned duties.
***
Anthony went with Gabe, Pope, Bart and a bosun’s mate to make a quick search of the pirate captain’s cabin. Bart quickly found a small chest of mixed coins, gold, silver and odd pieces of jewelry. “No doubt some ‘o ‘is plunder ‘e’s tucked away I’m thinking,” Bart volunteered. Pope found some papers in a locked desk drawer that seemed to identify the pirate. Old official dispatches and letters were addressed to Capitaine de fre’gate Phillipe Jabot. This proved the rogue had at least been a French naval officer at some point. However, there was nothing to prove the French knew about or sanctioned the piracy Jabot had recently been involved in. Just a man gone bad they’d say. An embarrassment yes, but no official connection to the French government. Anthony and his group searched as long as they dared, but were unable to find anything that would connect a spy to Jabot’s operation. Nevertheless, Anthony was certain somebody with a high degree of knowledge of ship’s cargoes, passengers and sailing times had been feeding information to the pirates. Well, no matter. For now it was over.
Once on deck the bosun reported, “The Scythe is in a bad way, sir. She’s in danger of foundering. The carpenter and his mates are aboard her now.”
“All right,” Anthony replied, looking about him. He was surprised to see how much the Reaper had settled during his quick search of Jabot’s cabin. Suddenly, a loud snap resounded, followed by another. Bart, suddenly alarmed, looked at Anthony and said, “Grapnel lines be parting, sir.”
“Yes. Let’s repair on board Drakkar,” Anthony replied. Loudly, he ordered “Clear ship! Clear ship!”
When the last man was back on Drakkar, Anthony ordered the remaining grapples to be cut. Once the order was carried out Drakkar seemed to rise up from her larboard list. Reaper’s main deck was almost immediately awash. Peckham had moved up to Anthony’s side to peer at Reaper’s demise. Noticing him, Anthony said, “I wish Merle Pitts was here to see this.”
Tearfully, the old master replied, “He does, sir. I feel it in me soul, he does.” Then quietly the once proud ship was gone.
***
It was only after things had settled down that Anthony found out Kramer was dead. Not killed in battle, but at the surgeon’s table. A surgeon’s mate said he’d just removed a man’s leg, took a step back, wiped his brow and then slid down on the deck lifeless. With Kramer gone, Caleb had once again showed his worth caring for the wounded. Anthony entered the sick berth and almost vomited. The stench of blood and human waste was overpowering. “Excuse me, sir,” a loblolly boy said as he sped to the upper deck to empty his full tub of “wings and limbs.”
“The Reaper is gone, but what a terrible price. All the dead and wounded, Lieutenant Mainard among them. The Admiralty would think it a small price to pay for their victory,” Anthony thought as he tried to control his nausea. He spoke to the wounded and and praised them for their gallant efforts. He made his way to Caleb, who had beckoned him over to speak to Mr. Davy.
“The splinter,” Caleb explained, ‘“lies superior to the thorax, sir.” Seeing Anthony’s puzzled look, Caleb explained further. “The splinter has lodged itself beneath the tissues along Mr. Davy’s side, but above the rib cage. Therefore, none of the vital organs that lie within the thorax-‘ere the chest-are likely to be damaged.”
After giving Davy a liberal drink of rum and placing a leather strap between his teeth, two surgeon’s mates held Davy down. Another surgeon’s mate handed Caleb a scalpel and a relatively clean cloth to wipe away the blood. Caleb took the scalpel and ran it down the length of the splinter, opening the tissues so that the jagged splinter was plucked from the wound. Then the doctor poured a liberal splash of rum over the open tissue to wash away any remnants.
Looking up from his handiwork, Caleb explained to Anthony. “It’s better to open such a wound and remove any fragments. Simply extracting the splinter would surely be just as painful. Any fragments not removed would later suppurate creating a gaseous humour and mortification.” Turning back to his present work, Caleb splashed more rum over the wound and sewed it up leaving an opening with a wick to be drawn out at intervals. Davy had gritted his teeth but never cried out. “Now young sir,” Caleb declared, “you’ll have every young lass at English Harbour swooning over you. But be warned. Don’t over do it, else Lieutenant Anthony may become jealous.” Everyone laughed at Caleb’s attempt to cheer up the brave boy.
Chapter Twenty
English Harbour was astir when Drakkar returned with her little flotilla. They were scarred, but victorious.
Much to everyone’s surprise, Scythe made the trip back. Drakkar’s carpenter and his mates had been able to staunch the flow of incoming seawater by fothering a doubled up tar soak topsail. Once the canvas patch was in place the prisoners were put on the pumps to keep the water level down. The majority of Scythe’s damage was between wind and water. The pumps were manned watch-and-watch at first. But by the time Antigua was sighted, the pumps only had to be manned one hour in four. Mr. Stokes had predicted Scythe could be completely repaired and declared seaworthy in no time at all.
Commodore Gardner was all nerves and apprehension. From the time Anthony’s ships had been sighted it seemed to have taken an eternity for them to beat into the harbor. However, Drakkar now stood bows onto the land. Unable to curb his impatience, Gardner had taken a guard boat out to meet Anthony, appearances be damned.
Now he sat silently, absently drinking a glass of claret, but never tasting it. He was totally engrossed in Anthony’s report.
The dialogue was eventually interrupted by a knock on the door. The sentry announced, “Midshipman Young, sir.” The lad entered the cabin and seemed to wilt from Commodore Gardner’s glare. His anger at having Anthony’s narrative interrupted was not lost on the boy.
“Well, don’t just stand there. Spit it out man.”
“Er-Mr. Buck’s compliments, sir. We’re about ready to drop anchor.” “Very well,” Anthony replied. “Tell Mr. Buck I’ll be on deck directly.” “Aye, sir.” The lad then scampered out of the cabin, glad to be out from under Gardner’s glare.
“Damn whelp,” Gardner remarked. “Well, duty calls, and I’ve kept you too long, Gil. But damme man, it sounds like you took care of the swines proper like. Here’s my hand and congratulations. The island is a buzz from here to St. Johns and back already. Every planter on the island will want to give you a reception to celebrate and share in your glory. Don’t know that I envy you there.”
***
Lady Deborah’s carriage was waiting at the jetty when Anthony finally made it ashore. He climbed in beside her and almost collapsed. She pulled him to her and listened attentively as Anthony summarized the events surrounding the battle.
He then told her if it were not for Dagan he’d be dead. “You would not believe the control he had over Jabot, till some damn rogue broke the trance. Then Dagan called down the raven. Where it had been lurking I don’t know. I do know I owe Dagan my life.” Turning and looking into his woman’s eyes Anthony said, “The only thing going through my mind when the blade was at my throat was that you were going to be widowed again, even before we married.”
“Oh, darling,” Deborah responded as she pulled Anthony to her breast and held him close. “What would I do without you?” Sensing her man’s needs, the carriage ride to the cottage had been made in silence with the two holding each other. Anthony could sense a renewal in his body and soul that seemed to come with the closeness of Deborah’s body next to his. He could feel her heartbeat as his head lay upon her breast, and he seemed to breathe the very air she breathed. The breath of life.
Just before they arrived at the cottage Deborah sat up. “We have company, dear.”
“Company?”
“Yes! And now that you’re back we’ll have to open up the big house. Our little love nest is too small for everyone.”
“Who’s here?” Anthony asked.
“Your family, you silly man. They arrived just as you left. Your sister has been helping with our wedding plans.”
“Oh,” groaned Anthony. He then said, “Our wedding’s still a month away and more.”
“And that’s no time at all for all the things a lady has to do to complete the arrangements,” Deborah replied. “Now straighten yourself up and see if that one area that’s too straight can be controlled before it causes embarrassment.”
Without realizing it, Anthony had become aroused with his head lying on Deborah’s breast. “See what you do to me?” Anthony exclaimed. “You prime my cannon then secure quarters without even allowing a ranging shot.”
Deborah giggled as he set to gather himself together to meet his family.
Chapter Twenty-One
Time had flown by since Drakkar had defeated Reaper. Reports had been sent to the admiralty with several recommendations having been made. Commodore Gardner had favorably endorsed each. It was time Buck and Pope were made captain. Both had held commands and were more than capable to command a frigate. Earl deserved a small command. Maybe he could be made first lieutenant if ever Buck or Pope were promoted.
And Gabe! It had been Gabe in the Shark that initiated the assault on the brig that was attacking Scythe’s stern. He had evaluated the situation, sensed the opportunity, and seized it. Otherwise, had the brig been left unopposed, Scythe would have been destroyed or at least overwhelmed right from the start. Gabe’s actions not only ensured the outcome of the battle but probably saved a lot of blood. English blood. What would be best for Gabe and Dagan? This was a question Anthony still pondered.
After returning to English Harbour, Anthony had summoned Dagan. In the privacy of his cabin to prevent embarrassment to Dagan, Anthony had thanked him for saving his life. He wanted Dagan to be assured of his status in the Anthony family. In a quiet moment the two men grasped each other’s hand. A knowing and understanding look passed between the two and then it was over. The incident had not and would not be mentioned again.
Two new lieutenants had arrived after Drakkar had sailed away toward her rendezvous with the Reaper. They would have been useful had they arrived earlier but at least they could be of help with so many wounded and killed.
Lieutenant Markham had been placed in command of LeCroix after Lieutenant Mainard’s death.
Anthony’s family had also arrived while Drakkar had been sailing toward her rendezvous with the Reaper. His sister Becky, her husband Hugh and little Gretchen (who had grown but was still a spoiled little snit) had all made the trip. Anthony’s mother had been too ill to travel, but Gabe’s mother Maria had made the voyage with Becky and her family. Maria seemed to fit in well enough, and the three women kept the men busy as the wedding day grew near. During one of the few private moments Deborah was able to share with Anthony she commented, “It’s no wonder your father was infatuated with Maria. She’s beautiful, sincere and can be very humorous… At times I’m absolutely jealous.”
Gabe spent as much time with his mother as duty allowed, and Anthony was suddenly very glad she came, partly because of Gabe, but also because of Dagan. Dagan had been very subdued ever since the incident with the pirate. Anthony had become worried. However, since Maria had arrived Dagan had spent numerous hours with his sister and he appeared rejuvenated.
Only young Lieutenant Graf, one of the new officers, had been stupid enough to question Dagan’s departure from the ship. As Dagan was climbing down to a jolly boat, Graf called to him. “I say Dagan, where are you about?” Dagan’s stoic reply was “Ashore.” Graf should have dropped it then but didn’t. Instead, he said, “I don’t recall anyone giving you leave to depart the ship.” Anthony had been in conversation with Mr. Stokes, the carpenter, and overheard Graf’s remarks. So had Buck.
Not wanting Anthony to be involved, Buck called to Graf. “Excuse me sir, but do you have the watch?”
“Aye, sir,” Graf replied to the first lieutenant.
“Well, I wish you’d tend to your duties and leave Dagan to attend his. I declare sir, this watch is as loose as a whore’s drawers. I’m not sure you’re fit to stand watch over a bumboat.”
Stokes grinned at Anthony. “I think Mr. Buck’s got the boy’s attention, sir. They get to feeling important at that stage and ‘as to be taken down a peg or two from time to time.”
***
When Anthony got the chance to talk privately with his sister he asked about their mother. He had the feeling Becky had been hiding something, evading any conversation about their mother. “What is wrong?” he finally demanded.
Becky sighed and said, “Mother’s going mad. She goes into fits of delirium. She curses and imagines all sorts of creatures are after her, especially snakes. The doctors give her opium when she’s at her worst. Her skin has turned yellow. Jaundiced, the doctors call it. They’ve bled her, but nothing seems to help-except brandy and the opium.”
“It may be the brandy that’s caused it,” Anthony replied. “I’ve seen it in a few ship’s surgeons.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The small church was packed. People were even gathered outside around open windows and the back door. The sun was dipping over the horizon, but still the inside of the church was sweltering hot. A heavy haze hung over the anchorage. “So much for a quaint little wedding,” Anthony thought. He was standing at the altar with Gabe as best man beside him. Greta stood opposite to Anthony, as she was Deborah’s maid of honor. Watching Deborah walk slowly down the aisle with her escort, Commodore Gardner, made Anthony realize how much he loved this woman. He also realized how lonely his life had been. He’d never be able to put to sea again without regret and concern. He now understood why the Admiralty frowned on young officers getting married.
When the kiss was complete, the reverend addressed the guests. “I present to you his Lordship and Lady Anthony.”
Lieutenant Dunn’s marines had turned out as honor guards. Their immaculate dress did much to impress Lady Deborah.
“They’re good fighters too,” Anthony whispered to his new wife.
The reception at Commodore Gardner’s residence seemed to drag on forever. The newlyweds were worn out by the time they’d drunk the evening’s last toast.
Deborah was giddy as the carriage took them back to the little cottage where they’d first made love. Well, you’ve ruined the gossip for the time being, my husband.”
“How so?”
“By making an honest woman of me,” she giggled. A certain look came into Deborah’s eyes as she nudged still closer to Anthony. “But I’m still as wanton as a tavern wench where you’re concerned, sir.” Reaching down and grabbing Anthony to add effect, she asked in a coarse whisper, “Are you ready to bed me, sir?” As he became aroused Deborah commented before Anthony could reply. “Oh, me thinks so,” she said, trying to mimic Bart.
“Aye, me thinks so indeed,” Anthony replied. He was more than ready.
***
As Bart and Silas made their way back to Drakkar after the wedding reception was over they could see the Royal Chatham had activity aboard. “They’s getting ready to take the newlyweds on their honeymoon, I reckon,” Bart commented.
“It appears so,” Silas answered. “But what do ye think of ‘is Lordship taken ‘us’ns along. They got servants a plenty and a full crew for the Royal Chatham.”
“What difference do it make why we’s going?” Bart answered. “Didn’t ye see Lady Deborah’s servant girls? They’s a pair of lookers, they be. This trip could be like a honeymoon for ‘us’ns if we’s able to get them servant girls in a cooperative like mood. What ye think Silas?”
“We’ll see mate, we’ll see!”
&n
bsp; Epilogue
July, 1775. As hot a July as could be remembered on the island of Antigua. Not a person moved during the heat of the day unless it was absolutely necessary. The road from St. Johns all the way to English Harbour was completely empty. Commodores Gardner and Anthony sat in white wicker-backed chairs trying to stay cool as they drank a glass of chilled lime juice.
The two senior officers listened attentively to the lieutenant before them as he relayed the disturbing news from the colonies. The lieutenant was the commander of the mail packet, Gull.
“So it’s war,” Gardner asked.
“Yes, sir. It appears the talks have failed and we’re at war with our own colonies. General Gage, who is the governor of Massachusetts, sent troops to seize weapons that had been cached by the colonials. He was met by a ragtag force. But instead of an open engagement which General Gage’s forces could have easily won, there was a running battle from Lexington to Concord. The colonials carried out one ambush after another. The general’s troops finally destroyed the weapons, but reports have it that casualties were very high. Then in June, there was another battle at a place called Bunker’s Hill. I’m told over fifteen hundred fell that day.”
“Damme,” snorted Gardner as he got to his feet. “That’s a hellish high number. We’ve not even got started well yet. I told you it’d be a different type of war, did I not sir?”
Gardner directed his comments to Anthony who thus far had listened quietly, but who was disturbed nonetheless.
Gardner invited Gull’s captain to dine that evening, then had him ushered out. He then turned his attention back to Anthony. “Have you gone through the admiralty dispatches?”