Sails Across the Sea: A Tim Phillips Novel (War at Sea Book 8)

by Richard Testrake

  His intentions came to naught though, when at dawn the next morning a large sailing dhow crossed their path as the men had finished bringing the brig to its regular action stations. The men were used to this daily activity. The purpose was for the ship to be ready in case an enemy was encountered close by when the sun arose.

  In this case, this was no enemy, but a lateen-rigged trader with its cargo of lemons. Devers, who had by now mostly recovered from his ordeals, was able to translate the coastal Arabic spoken by the dhow’s captain to Phillips.

  The surgeon, Doctor Persons, was taking the air on the quarterdeck and heard part of the report Devers gave to his captain.

  Hurrying over to the windward rail of the quarterdeck, where Phillips stood with his sailing master, Persons said, “My pardon, sir. I could not help overhear Mister Devers’ report. I think I heard him say this boat has lemons aboard. I have been concerned lately that scurvy may be about to strike us. Without fresh vegetables or green stuff, it can be expected. While the men receive the juice of lemons in their grog every day, I have reason to believe our supply of that juice may be suspect. If possible, I would respectfully ask if we might purchase a supply of these lemons.”

  Devers put the question to the trader’s captain. All smiles, the little man agreed to sell them any amount they wished, so long as they paid in coin.

  It did take much of the morning in negotiations, but finally, a hundredweight of the fruit was swayed aboard in a cargo net, and the coin handed over. The purser was well satisfied, since the price was half what it might have been at Gibraltar.

  The sailing master was also satisfied. His only chart of the area had been copied numerous time from a century old Venetian one. He assured Phillips, every time a chart was copied, it was possible for errors to creep in. And, just how accurate were the ancient mariner’s instruments anyway? The trader’s captain reported however, this was indeed the island of Cyprus.

  During the negotiations, the interpreter had been instructed to tell the merchant the Terrier was in the eastern Mediterranean in order to scout possible ports where British merchant ships would be welcomed to trade. This conversation had taken up much time and Mister Davison wondered why they were telling the man such a story.

  “As soon as that dhow makes port, that captain will be telling his mates about the great swindle he did with the infidel captain of a British ship. I do not wish them speculating on our possible purpose in these waters. If they think we will be bringing merchant ships here to trade, they will be talking about how to get as much silver from us as possible. If they think we are coming for military or naval reasons, we might be met with a fleet of Turkish frigates. We will sail around Cyprus as fast as we can and locate the island we are looking for.”

  No further adventures of note happened upon them for the next week. Terrier sailed around Cyprus and then east toward the Asian mainland. The quarterdeck officers believed they were nearing their destination when they began encountering fleets of small fishing boats. Some were substantial, decked craft, capable of staying out for days at a time. Others were merely large open boats the size of Terrier’s launch, but carrying a lateen sail.

  None seemed frightened of the strange warship. They sailed close by a bevy of the craft, without any taking fright and panicking toward shore. Davison wondered if perhaps they knew a fleet of the Sublime Porte’s warships were in the vicinity to protect them.

  Phillips answered, “Perhaps more likely they think Terrier is one of his warships. In any case, it seems fruitless to speculate. We will keep our lookouts alert for warships and hope to quickly find this villa where Lady Forsythe might be kept.

  Normally, Phillips just kept a lookout on the main masthead during the day, but now he asked the first officer to station another of the fore masthead. He also had leadsmen at the mainchains, swinging the heavy lead lines armed with mutton tallow to warn of shallow waters.

  Now, with no bottom to be found they sailed uneventfully, but then one lead touched bottom at ninety fathoms. The tallow in the recess of the lead weight showed traces of grey sand and tiny bits of shell that it had picked up. The sailing master made careful notation in his log, but reported there was no mention of the bottom’s composition in his copy of the old chart.

  Soon the lookouts reported land, and the depths began decreasing. Night was coming on, so the brig sailed out to gain a little sea room in case bad weather came upon them. At dawn, cleared for action and the men at the guns, they began closing the land. When the morning mists cleared they had a good view of the promontory they sought, and a sprawling villa stood at the summit.

  A rocky spur jutted out into the sea for a few hundred yards. A beach spread along it, and on this beach were a dozen or so open fishing boats. More boats had already put to sea and some were advancing toward Terrier.

  Phillips called Devers to the quarterdeck. Devers, by now, had been given honorary ranking as a wardroom officer and was welcome aft whenever he wished. At the moment, Phillips wished to question him about this activity. “Mister Devers, why would you imagine they seem to be unafraid of us?”

  “Sir, remember I have only visited this place once a few years ago, and then I was a slave at the oars. Nobody gave me much information then, and what I did learn, I have probably forgotten.”

  “What I think though, is that this Rashid fellow who owns the place is a feared man in these parts. I doubt if any of the locals are brave enough to ask questions where he is concerned. The fishermen probably believe we are here on his business and are not about to interfere.”

  Phillips wondered, “What about troops? Does he have many men guarding the place?”

  “Well, again, I was only here once, for a matter of a few weeks. While our galley was being repaired, we were kept in an old stone fortress inland a few miles. At the time, I think there were maybe fifty armed men who mostly guarded us. The word then was, Rashid had the villa full of beautiful women and did not want his soldiers around them.

  I doubt if he ever thought the place would be assaulted from the sea. There is only a narrow path leading to the top, and it could be defended with just a few men. Most of the people he had to consider to be threats lived inland, and would attack by land if so inclined. To guard against that, he kept most of his garrison in the old stone fort where the galley slaves were kept.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  That evening, as soon as the sun dipped, Terrier began making her way closer to the promontory. A mile offshore, the leadsman showed thirty fathoms, and the sailing master, after examining the traces of sediment on the lead, pronounced it good holding ground. The anchor was let go, and Phillips instructed the first officer of his intentions.

  “Mister Davison, our orders are to reconnoiter the area to determine whether a rescue by units of the fleet might prove to be successful. We are to determine depths and sea conditions in the harbor and spy out activities on land.”

  “I have been given permission to rescue Lady Forsythe if it seems such an effort might succeed.”

  “My intentions are to take the launch and cutter, filled with our Marines and as many armed seamen as we can take. We will proceed in the dark to the beach and reconnoiter the approaches to the path leading up the cliff. Once close to shore, I will consider the possibilities and go from there.”

  While we are gone, you will command the brig. All else being well, you will send Mister Roberts in the jolly boat into the harbor, surreptitiously taking depths and bearings to landmarks on shore. The guns will be manned by skeleton crews, and all hands armed. Should the brig encounter any danger, you will take her to sea, if necessary sailing her back to the fleet. I do not wish you to engage in any ill-considered rescue attempts. Are we clear?”

  The moon was not due to arise for a few hours, and Phillips wanted to utilize the present darkness to cover his approach to the landing site. With little time to properly brief his petty officers, he merely had the launch and cutter manned with armed men. Three men were equipped with ax
es in case any doors might need to be broken down. The Marines were armed with their muskets while the seamen carried a mixture of weapons. Cutlasses, boarding pikes, pistols and a few muskets. The firearms were loaded, but were not primed. Phillips wanted no accidental discharges to warn defenders.

  The party approached land with no notice taken of them, but once ashore, a watchman on one of the beached boats casually greeted them. Phillips grunted noncommittally to the man, held up his hand in greeting and approached with the Sergeant of Marines beside him. Now becoming alarmed, the man rose up from his seat and opened his mouth to shout. Before he could, Sergeant Harris struck the man with a canvas tube partially filled with pistol balls. His skill fractured, the man fell without a sound.

  Devers led the party toward the path leading up the cliff. It had probably once been just a goat path, but now consisted of a rather wide stone stairway leading to the summit. At the base was a stone shelter, inside of which six men were sleeping. When they awakened, each had a Marine’s bayonet at his throat, which was a powerful inducement to keep silent. The prisoners clothing was cut up and used to bind them. Two Marines were left with the prisoners to insure they kept their silence. Devers informed the prisoners that, if they kept their silence, they might well still be alive in the morning.

  Their rear now protected, the remainder of the men mounted the stairs. It was a long climb to the top, and some of the men, not used to such activity, were winded by the time they reached the top. There, two other guards were found, both asleep. Both were secured and Phillips ordered Devers to question the men concerning the possible location of Lady Forsythe.

  One prisoner was shaking with fear, the other savagely berated Devers. Again Sergeant Harris stepped forward and used his cosh upon the vocal one. A bayonet to the other’s neck kept him silent. Devers again asked the man where Lady Forsythe might be found.

  The guard spoke at length, tears streaming down his face, Finally Devers turned toward Phillips. “He asks that we kill him now. If he tells us what we wish to know, Al Raschid will know and skin this guard alive. He says you will kill him more quickly than Al Raschid.”

  The men had all climbed the stairway by this time and were beginning to congregate. Phillips was concerned about the noise the men were beginning to generate. An inspiration came to him. “Tell this man I will not kill him. I can take him away with us as a guest. Al Rashid cannot reach him and he can become one of my paid crewmen aboard my ship. Or, if he wishes, I will drop him off at any island we touch on our way home. If he comes with us, he will never see Al Rashid again.

  More conversation ensued between the guard and Devers. “He says if you swear to take him away and allow him to live he will tell you what he knows”, reported Devers.

  “Tell him I swear, man. We need to get a move on before the rest of the army finds us!”

  The guard pointed to the entrance and appeared to be giving directions. Finally Devers spoke,” Sir, he says he fears to go inside with us. But, we just need to go inside the front entrance and bear to our left. We will come to the women’s quarters. There will be at least one eunuch guard on duty there. All the wives and female slaves live in those quarters.”

  “Well”, Phillips noted, “I do not have time to act the fool. This man will come with us as a guide. Tell him to keep quiet, or we will leave him behind!”

  As the group entered, two armed guard appeared. These men were wide awake and alert. One ran to a large brass gong hanging from the overhead and began beating it. The other came at them with a huge curved sword. With all the commotion, there was no point in silence anymore, and the two were cut down immediately. Phillips instructed those men armed with firearms to prime their weapons and then the mob of seamen and Marines poured into the designated passageway.

  The hall ended in a massive, ornate door, studded with iron bolts holding straps of iron in place. The axe men went to work on the door, but it was difficult to break their way through because of all the hardware. Finally, a small hole was made through which a seaman reached through and lifted the bar inside. The door opened and two huge men waited for them with what appeared to be long halberd type weapons. As these men advanced on their attackers, Marines shot them dead.

  Now the stone walls echoed with the sound of screeching women. All was confusion, in the confusion of scurrying harem members and Phillips had not the slightest idea of which might be the person he had come for. Finally, at the top of his voice he shouted, “Lady Forsythe, if you are here, please shout.”

  As he said this, he remonstrated with himself, since every woman present seemed to be shouting. However, a calm voice across the hall assured him that she was Lady Forsythe and wondered what she could do for him.

  She did not look like the wife or daughter of aristocracy. Dressed in rags, her face was bruised, and a few teeth seemed to be missing. Clearly she was not a high ranking member of the local society. Her thin arms clutched a small child, Phillips guessed, not able to walk yet.

  Regardless, Phillips bowed, introduced himself and informed her he was prepared to take her home. He asked if there were any others women here he should take also. She nodded and pointed to a young girl huddling in the corner. The youngster was pregnant and was as big as a house. Forsythe informed him the girl was British, only fifteen and would not survive much longer in this place. She said, “I find myself unable to go with you and ask you take Jane in my place.”

  “Madame, I have travelled the length of the Mediterranean to fetch you. There may never be another chance for you to escape. Time is fleeting and we must leave before more guards arrive on the scene.

  “Sir, I find myself unable to tell you the reason for which I must decline. I do thank you for your trouble.”

  “Lady Forsythe, I take it the infant you are holding is your child?”

  “Yes, this is Abdul. He is a most admirable child!”

  Turning to Sergeant Harris he told the Marine, “We will be taking Lady Forsythe and her child with us. The lady does not wish to come but I am under orders to bring her back, so she must be encouraged. Neither she nor her son is to be harmed. The young miss in the corner with the swollen belly is also to come. Again, she is British and must not be harmed.”

  The girl was thankful to be rescued and came along most willingly. Lady Forsythe, faced with walking on her own, or being carried, came along on her own feet, expressing her displeasure at every step. Private Hornsby, a father himself many times over, carried the baby. As the procession started down the steps leading to the beach, a swarm of men wielding curved swords burst onto their presence.

  They came from the rear of the building, so presumably had come in through by a rear entrance. The Marines formed up and fired a volley. A half dozen of the potential assailants fell. While the Marines reloaded, Phillips lined up some seamen with muskets and had them fire also. This was not a disciplined volley like that of the Marines, but more of the Moors fell anyway.

  The party now on its way down the steps, Phillips and Sergeant Harris kept to the rear. Someone above fired a jezail at them and a seaman took a ball in his leg. Falling a few steps down the stone steps, two of his mates grabbed him and helped him make his way down. The Marines, on orders from Harris, stopped and fired another volley at a few people at the top.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Once on the beach they picked up the men they had left behind earlier and Phillips waved at the launch and cutter standing offshore. The boats came in, picked them up and they were on their way to the brig.

  Someone up on the cliff top got a small gun prepared and fired two shots at the boats. Mister Davison of the brig saw this and opened with his starboard broadside. The brig was now just within range with her carronades, and her long French eights especially, had no trouble reaching their target. After two broadsides, the gun ashore did not fire again. Had he been on the ship, Phillips would have ordered the guns to keep firing, and that is just what Davison did.

  With everyone accounted for, the boats
made the rest of their way to the brig, boarding on the port side so as not to interfere with the gun crew’s work. Phillips was busy with ship’s business, getting the anchor up and sail set, so it was some time before he had time to spare for his new passengers. Jane, the pregnant girl, was bubbling with joy and the various crew members were competing with each other to assist her.

  Lady Forsythe was another matter, however. Sobbing uncontrollably, she had made her way to the bow and refused to talk with anyone. On his own, Private Hornsby approached her and asked if he could take care of the baby for a spell. She was slightly familiar with the Marine, since he had helped her with the child down the long steps. She handed him over without a word.

  With the ship settled on her course back to the west, her exasperated captain approached Lady Forsythe. “Madame, I hope you will excuse me for bringing this up, but every man on this brig would give his arm to assist you in your trouble. I, for one however, have no idea of your problem or what may be done to correct it!”

  “Captain”, she said. “The problem is you have taken me away from my new home by force. I feel my life is over and I have no idea of what will happen to my baby.”

  “Lady Forsythe, you will permit me to wonder about your happiness back there. You did not appear to be well fed, you were, and still are dressed in rags, and you have bruises over your face. It appears to me you have been ill-treated. Why on earth would you protest leaving such a place?”