Argent recovered his hat and left the office. It was than that Fellsham sat and smiled. This had been most lucrative, Cinch had paid him five guineas if he destroyed any Deed to Lanbe Barton he found. He had found nothing where something should have been, but he had taken the five guineas anyway, telling Cinch that he had found a Deed and destroyed it. Now another guinea had arrived on top. A most satisfactory affair.
oOo
Kalil Al’Ahbim was now a more than contented man. Ireland had provided a good haul, but this was now a bonus upon that, another fishing village, this time on the English coast. Both had provided a young and white skinned cargo, so he was now full, more than so. His craft was leaving the shingle, backing off using her oars, his men straining to take her out to sea, the oars in rapid beat. The arrival of the soldiers had been an inconvenience, so they were now pulling off with merely the odd musket ball hitting the hull as a less than fond, but very useless, farewell. Leaving the village early had cost nothing, merely hastening their exit, for he did not wish to confront regulars. Some of his men, killed and wounded by the men of the village as they defended their hearths and homes, lay on the beach, some still moving, one struggling in vain to reach the ship, but they could be abandoned and sacrificed. He saw the soldiers, some still buttoning their tunics, running to the quayside to board the fishing boats to make a chase, but he was confident he could escape, rowing into the wind, where they could not follow. He watched, with great glee, the last of the prisoners being driven below, but then shouted in anger. Some of his men were too active with the points of their swords, he wanted neither marks nor scars that would lower any value on the auction block. His haul now totalled 128, all young women and children.
oOo
Chapter Eight
A Question of Duty
Argent had barely slept at all. The despondency and unease that he had seen at Lanbe Barton, had not been left behind and the regular tolling of the ship’s bell through the night, usually ignored, had broken into his sleep at almost every ring. Now he was fully awake with the three bells of the Morning Watch sounding on the quarterdeck above; this being 5 o’ clock early morning to those safe in their beds in their homes ashore, provided they were awake enough for it to register. He could still see Emily chewing her lower lip, Enid stern and shockproof, his Father staring at the fire. A whole day had now intervened, but his anxiety had not lessened. He turned over in his cot and stared at the grain of the planking slowly revealing itself in the growing October dawn. He knew that his deep worry for his family would soon become a luxury; he had a ship to run and to ready, for some important mission as yet unrevealed. Today was the 10th.
Three bells having sounded, in came Mortimor with the customary rolls and coffee, but this time augmented with a sausage and two rashers of bacon, but Argent paid the food not one moment of attention after Mortimor had finished his one piece of news.
“Slavers have raided Ruanporth, Sir, and got away with something like two dozen women and children. ‘Tis all over the town. There’s killed, too, both them and the fishermen. Sons of Belial hath beat upon our house, Judges, Chapter 19, verse.......”
Argent broke straight in.
“Ruanporth, Mortimor, you say Ruanporth?”
“Aye, Sir. That’s the place, right enough.”
Argent sat up, horrified. Beryan had family there; it’s where he came from. Argent looked at Mortimor.
“Fetch Lieutenant Fentiman. Immediately.”
Argent began to dress himself urgently, missing buttons and making a shambles of his cravat. Fentiman soon arrived and quickly concluded that his Captain was far from his usual state of calm and collected.
“Sir, you sent for me?”
“I did. Have you heard? That slaver has raided Ruanporth. Nothing like has happened for almost a century!”
Argent stood, his face in shock. Fentiman looked puzzled, he fully understood the implications of the news, but had he been urgently summoned for a history lesson? He didn’t recognise his Captain at all.
“Yes Sir?”
“My family has relations there. They often go there to stay, my sister, her husband and their child. With my brother in law’s parents. They may have gone there yesterday. I need to find out.”
Argent looked anxiously at Fentiman.
“I hope you understand?”
Fentiman immediately realised why he had been summoned.
“Yes Sir. You must go, of course. There’s no need for you to remain on board, but every need for you to be certain of your family.”
By now Argent was wearing his coat. He nodded, but his face showed his gratitude.
“Thank you, Henry. This I’ll not forget. I’ll be back sometime in the afternoon.”
Carrying nothing, Argent hurried on deck and off the ship to the quayside and his hurry along it did not go unnoticed. Fraser and Ball, on Watch, studied the figure dodging and scurrying his way through the early morning dockyard activities. Fraser put into words what they had both concluded.
“That slaver hittin’ Ruanporth, must be the one that Frencher was on about. Cap’n’s got family ‘round there. He’ll be worried and be off to discover. No blame from me for that.”
Ball nodded.
“So, ‘ere’s hopin’. Bastard slavers, I thought they was now back in times long gone. The memory sent a shiver through my grand folks.”
Almost running, Argent soon reached his usual horse stable and had to knock up the ostler. He came straight down on seeing him and had no need of explanation as to why he so urgently needed a horse. He saddled and bridled the usual mare, noticing that Argent, both hopping and fidgeting, could barely contain his impatience. Once in the saddle Argent began at the gallop, but soon allowed the mare to drop back to a canter, then a trot. The familiar sights passed on each side, seen by sight, but unseen by his troubled mind. Soon the last hill and then the gate, but no one could be seen. He partly tethered the mare, then ran to the door to push it open, barely breaking stride. His relief was palpable as he saw Enid feeding Jacob, with his Father and Emily still at breakfast. They were as shocked to see him, as he was to see them, all safe and well. Argent now realized that he was out of breath and gasped his explanation.
“I’ve just heard that slavers have raided Ruanporth. What’s the news? Where’s Beryan? What of his family?”
Emily saw his state of anxiety, which only added to her own, but she was the first to rise to bring him to the table and then his Father pushed his own cup of tea before him. The small domestic gestures went a huge way to calm him and as he drank Enid spoke the answers.
“Beryan’s safe, but wounded. But they got Jane Worleggen, his sister, and her two children.”
The cup left Argent’s lips, the terrible question clear on his face. Enid continued.
“He’s not wounded badly. Not badly. He was down there when they came and he joined the fight against them, so’s they didn’t get too far into the village, then the Militia turned out. Thank God there was a company of them in the Church. He’s still down there, with Michael, his brother in law. So there, be calmed, that tells you he’s not badly hurt.”
Argent had not drunk again from the cup and, at his sister’s words, he gave vent to a long sigh and his shoulders and chest fell with the ending of his anxiety. He looked back at Enid.
“Who did they get? Anyone we know? I’ve been told two dozen.”
“Yes, about that, but closest to us is Beryan’s sister and the two children.”
Argent’s jaw clamped back together. He had met Beryan’s sister at Enid’s wedding and at other times since. She was pretty, slender, and blond, and her children likewise. He made up his mind and rose from the table.
“I’m going back into Falmouth. I’m going to ask that Ariadne be sent after him. She’s fast and can cover a lot of ocean, tracking back and forth. Tell Beryan that if I’m let out onto that ocean, I’ll get them back.”
He rose and traversed the table to kiss his sisters and Jacob. His Fa
ther rose to shake his hand and there was a light in his Father’s eyes that he had not seen before, as his Father looked at him and gripped his right elbow. Argent smiled and nodded, then he gathered his hat and left.
The horse, poorly tethered, had wandered, but only to a hayrick. Soon Argent was trotting back down the hill and then further, almost to the outskirts of Falmouth. However, when he passed the gate of the Willoughby estate there were a group of servants clustered just inside. Argent stopped and noticed that in the centre of the group was the serving maid who had given him tea the last time he called, she was plainly distraught, crying with huge sobs into her apron. Argent dismounted and led his horse to them. They soon noticed his uniform and all turned towards him, some with grim faces. Argent looked back at them.
“The raid?”
The largest man and the angriest, replied.
“Yes. They got her sister. Barely a slip of a girl.”
He squared around to Argent to say what he really wanted.
“You’re the Navy. ‘Tis you as is supposed to keep the likes of these filthy Heathens away. Protection! That’s what we expects from you.”
Argent couldn’t argue. The image came to his mind of Herodotus and her feeble, far between, Fastnet patrol, barely leaving harbour. He only had one reply.
“I’m sorry. We’ve all lost family, including me. It’s the war, we can’t fight the French all over the ocean and cover every cove and harbour back here. I’m sorry.”
At the fact that Argent had also lost family, the man softened, but said no more, so Argent continued.
“I’m hoping to put to sea soon and give chase. I’m the Captain of the Ariadne. If those are my orders, that’s what I’ll do, be assured.”
One of the women comforting the maid turned to him.
“If you’re the one sent after them, Sir, then Godspeed to you.”
Argent smiled and nodded, but she continued.
“Her Ladyship’s, too, got a wounded man indoors. One of those as fought them off. A Ruanporth man, one of her servants, but badly wounded, that she’s carin’ for. ‘T’ave hit the most of us.”
The thought struck Argent immediately, that from this man he may learn something. Argent remounted, intending to ride up the drive, but he noticed again the serving maid. He couldn’t leave without saying something, but the girl had now collapsed onto the bank, her face still covered by her apron. Argent looked at the woman.
“Please tell her that the Navy won’t give up. If it’s possible to get her sister back, we will.”
With that he rode up to the front door, dismounted, tethered the horse securely to the hitching post and knocked. He was greeted by the same footman as before.
“I am Captain Argent. Please tell Lady Grant that I would like to see her wounded servant, if that’s possible.”
The footman stood back from the door to allow Argent an entrance.
“Yes Sir. I’ll do that immediately. She is with the wounded man now.”
He walked to the door of the same room that Argent had waited in before.
“If you’d like to wait in here, Sir, I will fetch her Ladyship.”
Argent entered and sat, impatient and thinking intently; the man may know something, something that could make the difference. However, his patience was not tried too far because soon Lady Grant entered the room. Argent stood immediately.
“Reuben. You wish to see James? He’s received a stab wound in his chest, but is conscious, at least when I left him. You’ll not stay too long?”
“No, Lady Grant, just a few questions.”
She left the room expecting him to follow and both went down the corridor that led to the rear of the house. She entered a room at the end off to the left and, on entering, Argent saw James, a man of early middle age, with his chest bare and a wound below his right collarbone oozing blood. A serving woman was dabbing at the wound, ineffectually, presumably hoping it would stop if she continued wiping. James was lying back with closed eyes. There was also a livid bruise with a cut, showing on his forehead. Lady Grant went to him.
“James. Captain Argent is here. Can you answer a few questions for him?”
James opened his eyes and cast his gaze around to find Argent. He nodded and Argent went to his bedside.
“James. First, well done, to put up such a fight, well done. That was brave.”
James nodded, but clearly he was very weary and not well.
“What did the slaver look like? Anything you can tell me about him will help.”
James closed his eyes and lay back.
“Black hull, Sir, lots of oars.”
He swallowed and the woman gave him some water.
“And her sails, they was furled but they was red, a dark red.”
“Anything else?”
“She was broad on the beam. Wide as a frigate and nearly as long”
“Any guns?”
“Not as could be seen, Sir. I recall two banks of oars and bare planking above ‘em, up to her rail.”
“What kind of men?”
“Arabs, Sir. Dark skinned Devils, all wearin’ loose clothes, their heads wrapped in cloth.
Argent patted his arm.
“That’s helpful James and very important. Well done and thank you. You rest now, you’re in safe hands.”
Argent looked at the wound on James’ chest. It was clean and probably deep into the muscle. He looked at Lady Argent.
“What’s worse for him is the blow on his forehead. That stab is less serious, it will heal. My advice is to sew it up, just sew it up, with clean cotton. That’ll stop the bleeding. Then he must rest, but get a Doctor to him as soon as possible.”
The serving woman looked up at him, then at Lady Grant, who nodded. The servant left and Argent spoke again.
“Does Admiral Grant know?”
“Yes, he does and he’s despatched Herodotus to give chase. She’s probably on her way now, as we speak.”
Argent’s spirits sank and it showed on his face. How could he place any faith in Cheveley and the likes of his First, that fop Langley? Lady Grant saw his face cloud with worry and said what she should not.
“Reuben. Septimus told me that you are to sail soon, with strict orders. Otherwise he would have sent you.”
She placed a hand on his arm and looked into his face almost with desperation.
“Reuben. Ruanporth is part of my estate, they are my tenants and they are devastated. I look upon them as I would my own. I know you will be under orders, but find them, Reuben, please find them. Do all you can.”
Argent looked back at her, his face equally serious. She was asking him to disobey clear orders, but he made a reply that reflected what was already growing inside him.
“This mission I’m being sent on. If it sends me down through the Bay of Biscay, I’ll find them. They’re Arabs, up from the Barbary Coast. They’ve been raiding France for some time, that I know. I’d hazard that they are now on their way back, probably back to where they came from, with enough of what they came for, damn them. But if I’m sent down there, I’ll find them.”
He looked down at her concerned face.
“There are two kinds of duty and I understand both, very well, be assured. But, now I must go.”
He left, he felt it best. Lady Grant was near to tears.
oOo
He strode quickly along the dock beside his ship, but did not board her. He had but one foot on the gangplank when he saw Sanders at the top in the entry port.
“Sir, we had a message, but minutes ago. You are to report to the Commodore’s Office.”
Argent about turned and walked quickly around the dock to enter at the familiar door. Venables rose at the sight of him, but he, too, showed the same level of shattering depression that he had seen at Lady Grant’s. They exchanged salutes.
“It’s hit you, too, Sergeant.”
“Yes, Sir. I’ve no relations there, but it’s the thought of it, Sir. Young women and children, prisoners aboard a sla
ver and bound for who knows what kind of Hell. It don’t bear thinkin’ about.”
Argent nodded, his own face giving equal expression to the thought which the Sergeant had just given voice to.
“Well Sergeant, we’re not letting him go, just like that. Herodotus has been sent after him.”
Venables’ face did not change. Argent nodded again and walked down the corridor to Budgen’s office. He knocked and entered, Budgen had made no reply, but was sat at his desk with a large, cream, vellum package before him on his desk, the package held closed by a huge red seal. Besides that was a single piece of paper, covered in a handwriting he did not recognise, and this he pushed first in Argent’s direction.
“You orders, Argent, drawn up by Admiral Broke, Grant wasn’t available. You sail on the next ebb. You are to make fast passage for Figuiera da Foz; North Portuguese coast, and deliver that to General Wellesley. If he is not there, then you place it in safe hands, safe hands, mind, to ensure its sure arrival with Wellesley.”
“That” was the second thing pushed across. Budgen continued.
“This has come down from the highest, Argent, from Castlereagh himself, never mind the Admiralty. It is essential that Wellesley receives it, at the earliest. They’ve even given you this, to carry it in.”
He brought up a shiny black, thick leather satchel, which he dropped onto the desk.
Argent studied first the thick bundle, with some awe, then the glorious satchel, which had the Royal Crest embossed on the flap in red, blue and gold. Then, back again to the velum package, it probably having been sealed by the Secretary of State for War’s own hand itself.
“May I know what it is, Sir?”
“You may know this much. It’s a communication to Wellesley, telling him that the Austrians are out of the war. They will sign a Treaty with Napoleon at Schonbrun. It will release French soldiers to come against him. It may affect any plans that he has about invading Spain from where he is, that being Portugal. He may think the French army to be one size, but this Treaty could enable the Johnnies to double the force against him. He has to know this, at the soonest.”
A Question of Duty Page 38