‘I doubt it,’ Molineaux said with a smile. ‘I get the feeling there ain’t much love lost between Mr Killigrew and your Lord Bullivant after we boarded the Milenion. Besides, if I know him, he’ll be figuring out a way to rescue us all, including your precious Lord Bullivant.’
‘Sounds like a reg’lar Ben Backstay,’ sneered Fuller. ‘I s’pose ’ee’s going to cut ’is way through ’alf the Russki army to do it, if ’ee ’as to?’
‘If he has to,’ said Molineaux, still smiling.
‘Don’t you knock Mr Killigrew,’ snarled Hughes. ‘He got us out of the Arctic; any man who could do that isn’t going to let a few thousand Ivans get in his way.’
‘Arctic?’ echoed Mackenzie. ‘You mean… he’s that Killigrew? Then you must be that Petty Officer Molineaux!’
‘And I’m that Leading Seaman Endicott, and he’s that Able Seaman Hughes,’ put in Endicott, jerking his head at his shipmate.
Mackenzie turned to Vowles.
‘Don’t look at me,’ said the coxswain. ‘I wasn’t there. I ain’t that anyone,’ he added, with a trace of wistfulness in his voice.
‘Be this cove Killigrew famous, then, Mr Mackenzie?’ asked Yorath, a West Country man from his accent.
‘Famous?’ echoed Mackenzie. ‘Do you no’ read the newspapers, Ned? They were taking part in the search for Franklin a couple of years ago. Their ship got trapped in the ice a thousand miles from civilisation. It were Commander Killigrew – although I think he was only a lieutenant then – who led the survivors to safety, fighting polar bears, cold and starvation every step of the way.’
‘Aye, well, fighting polar bears is one thing,’ said Fuller. ‘Fighting the Russian bear is summat else altogether.’
‘Have you lads figured a way out of this coop yet?’ asked Molineaux, turning his attention from the occupants of the barn to the structure itself.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Thornton.
‘Well, don’t tell me you were planning to spend the rest of the war as prisoners! You want to make leg-bail, don’t you?’
‘We don’t need to. All this will be sorted out as soon as the Russians realise who Lord Bullivant is. This is all just a big misunderstanding.’
‘Yur: the kind of misunderstanding that can get a cove scragged.’ Molineaux tested the planks in one wall of the barn, wondering how much it would take to batter a hole through.
‘Forget it,’ said Thornton. ‘I doubt it would take much to break out of this barn, but if you did there are four guards outside armed with muskets.’
‘Yur, I cooled them on the way here. But there’s sixteen of us. Muskets or no muskets, we could overpower ’em.’
‘Without any of us getting killed? You and your lads can try it if you want, but we’re going to sit tight.’
‘Sure, tha’s ’bout your speed, ain’t it?’ sneered Iles. ‘Thought you’d got yourselves a right clush place, working on Lord Bullivant’s yacht, din’t you? Bet you got a proper shock when ’ee told you ’ee wanted to sail to the seat o’ war in the Baltic; an’ an even bigger’un when you got taken pris’ner.’
Mr Uren rose to his feet. ‘And just what do you mean by that?’
‘Us’d’ve thought us made meself plain enough. With England at war, able seamen like ’ee should be servin’ on one of ’Er Majesty’s ships, not takin’ it easy on board a yacht.’
Searle rose to his feet. ‘You calling us cowards?’
‘Us ain’t calling ’ee anything, I’se telling ’ee.’
Searle swung his fist at Iles’ head, but the big man was waiting for it. He ducked below the swing and drove his fist into Searle’s stomach. As Searle doubled up in agony, Iles kneed him viciously in the face and the sailor went down.
Grinning, Iles turned to his shipmates. ‘Useless, gutless bastards,’ he crowed. ‘Us don’t need this lot to win the war any rate.’
‘Er… Ben?’ Endicott jerked his head to where Fuller was charging across the barn towards him. Iles turned just in time to receive the attack face-on. Fuller got his hands around Iles’ throat and the two of them went down, rolling over and over in the mud and straw.
‘All right, break it up, you two!’ snapped Molineaux. ‘Bear a hand, Seth.’
Along with Endicott, he tried to prise Iles away from his opponent, but it was not until Uren and Ogilby had pulled their own shipmate away from the brawl that they were successful. Fuller continued to struggle in their grip, but Uren and the other man had him fast. ‘That’s enough, Fuller!’ snarled the boatswain.
‘You ’eard what ’ee said, Mr Uren!’ protested Fuller. ‘An’ ’ee duffed up Dick!’
‘I’ll bloody duff you up if you don’t simmer down!’
‘Want some more, do ’ee?’ Mirroring Fuller’s struggles, Iles continued to wriggle in the grip of Molineaux and Endicott. ‘Come ’ere, you big bag o’ wind! Us’ll settle your ’ash!’
‘Pipe down, Ben!’ snarled Molineaux. ‘Or I’ll settle a bloody sight more than just your hash!’
Uren and Ogilby released Fuller, and Molineaux and Endicott released Iles. Fuller made a show of dusting himself down while Iles straightened his rumpled clothes… and then, as if at some mutually agreed signal, the two of them lunged at each other once more.
The others prised the two brawlers apart a second time.
‘Now listen: whatever paths led us to where we are now, none of us asked to be prisoners of the Ivans,’ Molineaux told them all. ‘But that’s the way it is. Unless we want to stay that way for the rest of the war, we’re going to have to work together.’
‘Stink-pot!’ Fuller spat at Iles.
‘Prannock!’ the Bristolian spat back.
Fuller lunged at Iles a third time. This time Uren managed to catch him before the two of them collided. Iles strutted and preened himself in a manner not calculated to improve relations between the navy seamen and the civilian sailors. Deciding that diplomacy was all about give and take, Molineaux caught Iles by the lughole and dragged him across to the far corner of the barn.
‘Now listen to me, you bloody lubber. I shan’t warn you again: I’ve got enough troubles without having to pull you off some bloody yacht sailor every three minutes. You pull that trick one more time and when we make leg-bail I’ll leave you behind so the Ivans can practise on you with their knouts, hoist in? Now you sit down – here – and stow it, unless you want me to choke your luff.’ Iles settled down on a bale of hay to sulk. Molineaux left him to it. As he was walking back across the barn, Uren came across to meet him. ‘Are you really going to try to escape?’
‘Just you watch me. The drum Cowcumber Henson can’t crack ain’t been built. Are you and your lads going to help us?’
‘Why risk our necks? It’s like Cap’n Thornton says: it’s all just been a big misunderstanding.’
‘For you and your lads, maybe; but I hear tell the Russians execute prisoners of war, and I don’t want to have it confirmed the hard way. And since they’ve put us in the same gaff as you, it seems to me they don’t look at you lot as being any different from us.’
From the look on Uren’s face, he took Molineaux’s point. ‘Have you got a plan?’
‘I’m working on it.’ Molineaux climbed to the hayloft and crossed to the hatch over the door.
‘Nailed shut,’ Mackenzie called up to him.
So it was, Molineaux noted, but even so, he thought a couple of good kicks would be enough to smash it open. Peering out through a gap between two boards, he saw the two pairs of sentries pass each other below, circling the barn clockwise and counterclockwise respectively. He waited a minute, and they passed each other at the same place again; and again on the third circuit. The Russians might not be much good as sailors, but they could march with maddening precision.
Or was that something he could use to his advantage?
He climbed back down to the ground and kicked one of the planks out of a stall. It splintered free with a crash, and he hid it under the straw, waiting for the gua
rds to unlock the door and come charging in to investigate the noise. But the guards did not materialise. Either they had not heard the crash or, more likely, did not consider it worth investigating. That was the Russkis all over: they only knew how to obey, and if something arose that was not covered by their orders, they would stick to what they had been told to do. Order an Ivan to guard a room in a house, and then set fire to it, and the silly sod would just stand there until the smoke overcame him and he burned to death.
Molineaux took the plank from its hiding place and hefted it in his hands, testing it as a potential weapon.
‘And just what do you intend to do with that?’ asked Thornton.
‘I’ve been watching the guards,’ explained Molineaux. ‘They always pass each other at exactly the same spot, right in front of the door…’
‘And at the back of the barn too,’ said Thornton. ‘It’s been driving me mad for five days now. What of it?’
‘All we have to do is wait until they’re in front of the door, then kick in the hatch and drop down on them. If we caught them by surprise…’
‘If you didn’t kick the hatch open on the first try, you’d be jumping on to their bayonets,’ Thornton pointed out reasonably.
‘That’s a chance I’m willing to take. If we can overpower them all together, get their muskets… it’s only half a mile to the harbour, we go through at night when the streets are quiet, bash the Ivans guarding the Milenion, and you can sail off.’
‘What about you?’
‘I ain’t going anywhere without Mr Killigrew; and I don’t imagine he’s going anywhere without your precious Lord and Lady Bullivant.’
‘I thought you said he’d be figuring on a way to rescue you?’
‘I dare say he is; but it’d be presumptuous of me to wait for him.’
Thornton shook his head. ‘Madness. We’d all be killed. I forbid you to try it.’
‘Yur, well, no one says I’ve got to take orders from you.’
‘Someone coming!’ Vowles hissed from the door.
‘All right, lads, this is it!’ whispered Molineaux. ‘I’ll bash the first one that comes through the door, the rest of you rush the others and grab their muskets.’ He took up position beside the door, clutching the plank, and the Milenions watched with mild curiosity as the rest of the Ramillies positioned themselves facing the door.
Molineaux heard the chain rattle as someone turned the key in the padlock. The chain was pulled free of the handles, and the shadow of a man fell across the threshold as the door was opened.
‘Wes!’ yelled Endicott. ‘No…!’
It was too late: Molineaux was already swinging the short plank. Something in Endicott’s warning tone made him try to pull back the swing, so that it did not land as heavily as it might have done. Even so, he landed a fairly solid thwack on someone’s skull. The man sprawled on his back at Molineaux’s feet, to reveal half a dozen Russian soldiers standing behind him, their muskets levelled at the petty officer.
Molineaux grinned sheepishly. ‘Hullo!’ he said brightly.
Then he looked down at the man he had hit, who was rolling about with both hands clamped to his forehead.
‘Oh, Lor’!’ Molineaux exclaimed in horror when he saw who it was.
Chapter 6
The Man from St Petersburg
11.00 a.m.–3.30 p.m., Thursday 17 August
The Russian infantry officer who had escorted Killigrew to the barn was kind enough to soak his handkerchief in a nearby water trough and hand it to the commander to use as a compress. Sitting on a bale of hay in one corner of the barn, Killigrew pressed it to the graze on his temple and wished the throbbing in his skull would die down.
‘Sorry, sir,’ said Molineaux. ‘Thought you was one of them.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Killigrew gasped, blinking through the waves of nausea that washed over him.
‘You sure you’re oh-kay, sir?’
‘Nothing a glass of Dr James’s powders won’t cure.’
The petty officer glanced towards the door at the soldiers who stood there, keeping a watchful eye on the prisoners. ‘How come they brought you here? They’re not going to put an officer like you in with the ratings, are they?’ Molineaux was indignant at the very thought.
‘No, no. I just came by to make sure they were looking after you.’
‘That’s very kind of you, sir.’ Molineaux looked about the barn. ‘Well, it ain’t Brown’s, but if a stable was good enough for our Lord, I reckon Mother Henson’s boy can just about put up with a barn. Not sure I care for the company, though.’
‘The company?’
‘The Milenions. Bunch of lazy, gutless cowards, if you ask me. They seem to think Lord Bullivant’s name will be enough to get them out of here, and don’t want to risk their precious hides trying to make leg-bail. But me and the other Ramillies are champing at the bit, sir. Just say the word, and we’ll give it a go. There’s eight of us, and only eleven of them…’ Molineaux was one of those seamen who believed that one Englishman was worth two Frenchmen, and ten Russians; when the seaman in question was Wes Molineaux, there might have been some truth in the assertion.
‘And they’ve got guns,’ Killigrew pointed out. ‘Anyhow, it may not be necessary; possibly the Milenions have the right notion.’
‘Sir?’
‘I’ve been speaking to the military governor of these parts. Seems like a reasonable sort of fellow. I don’t think he believed me when I told him we were fired upon by one of his batteries, but he’s having the matter looked in to. Apparently Lord and Lady Bullivant are staying at his mansion just out of town, so they’re being well looked after.’
‘Is he willing to trade them for General Bodisco?’
‘Not without referring it to his superiors in Helsingfors; but I cannot see any benefit for Russia in keeping them captive, can you?’
‘What about us, sir?’
‘Well, we arrived under a flag of truce. I’m having dinner with Lord Bullivant at the governor’s house this afternoon, so I’ll let him know about the circumstances under which we were captured. If the Russians refuse to release us, he can get Lord Aberdeen to raise merry hell about it in the House of Commons. The Russians will give in sooner or later.’
‘But it could take months, sir. And I don’t intend to be a prisoner of the Russkis for that long.’
Killigrew smiled. ‘Me neither, Molineaux. Me neither. But you and the lads sit tight for now and we’ll see how things play out.’
‘Aye, aye, sir.’
Killigrew rose to his feet and walked over to where the Milenion’s master sat with his first mate. ‘Captain Thornton? Commander Killigrew, at your service.’
Thornton rose to his feet, but did not accept the hand Killigrew held out to him. ‘We’ve met.’
‘So we have. Unfortunate that the circumstances of our second meeting should be even less propitious than the first, but that’s by the by. Sir Charles Napier has sent me to get you and your men safely out—’
‘Us? Or Lord and Lady Bullivant?’
‘All of you, with any luck. How are the Russians treating you?’
‘I’ve no complaints so far.’
Killigrew glanced at the Milenions and saw that one of them had a badly bruised face. ‘What happened to him?’
‘One of your men assaulted him.’
‘Which one?’
Thornton pointed the man out.
‘Iles!’ barked Killigrew.
‘Sir?’
‘Come here, Iles.’
‘Aye, aye, sir.’ The seaman jumped up and crossed to where Killigrew stood.
The commander indicated the battered man. ‘Is this your handiwork, Iles?’
‘That it be, sir. But ’ee started it.’
‘He said we were cowards!’ protested the battered man.
Killigrew nodded. ‘You and I shall discuss this further once we’re back on board the Ramillies,’ he told Iles firmly, by which the bluejackets present k
new at once that the seaman was in for a severe dressing-down, and a dressing-down from Commander Killigrew was not something to be taken lightly. ‘In the meantime, Mr Charlton, Mr Dahlstedt and I are working hard to secure the release of us all. It would be nice to know that when we finally succeed, we shall return to this barn to find that you have not all killed one another in the meantime. Hoist in?’
Iles hung his head. ‘Aye, aye, sir.’
‘Carry on.’ Still pressing the damp handkerchief to his grazed temple, Killigrew indicated to the Russian officer that he had seen all he wished to see, and was ready to be taken to his billet. As he was marched back through the streets, in spite of his steaming headache he was careful to note every landmark that might help him find his way back to the barn, as he had done on the way there.
Just in case.
* * *
Lieutenant-General Ramsay sent his coach and four to collect Killigrew from the home of Herre Grönkvist, the Finnish burgher on whom he had been billeted, at a quarter past one. After a hot bath and an hour’s nap – during which time the burgher’s servants had somehow contrived to restore his uniform to something approaching its former glory – Killigrew’s headache had subsided, and he was feeling better than he had done for several days.
As the carriage rattled through the cobbled streets of Ekenäs, Killigrew followed the route the coachman took to Ramsay’s home. The house itself, if by no means palatial, looked comfortable enough: a wooden, two-storey building with roses climbing up the trellises on either side of the porch, and picture windows with quaintly carved shutters. By the time the coachman reined in the carriage, the butler was already opening the front door. Killigrew alighted and was shown into the drawing room, where he found Lady Bullivant and her daughter seated in plush armchairs with a middle-aged woman – Ramsay’s wife, presumably – while Lord Bullivant stood by the stone hearth with Lord Dallaway, chatting to Ramsay over glasses of champagne. The ladies were as elegantly dressed as they had been that night on the Milenion, and both looked cheerful and animated. But then, this was hardly the durance vile Killigrew might have expected to discover them languishing in. If he was here as their rescuer, he certainly did not feel like it.
Killigrew’s Run Page 12