by Bev Stout
* * *
On the main deck, Annie found Captain Hawke waving a piece of paper in the face of a rotund man. He was significantly shorter than the captain. His soft-looking hands and elegant clothes convinced Annie that he was not a sailor.
"My first mate paid you handsomely, Mr. Collins," Captain Hawke said. "I don't care what this paper says."
Annie's eyes drifted toward the wharf. A shiver of horror shot through her. Not only was Barrette hunched over in shackles, but Christopher as well. She saw Christopher's lips form the word NO as Barrette spat in a captor's face. The man, his arms thicker than Annie's slim waist, struck Barrette's bloodied head with the butt of a pistol.
As she watched Barrette crumble to his knees, Annie turned to Mr. Allan. "Are they going to kill them?"
Mr. Allan clenched and unclenched his fists. "No, Barrette and Christopher won't do the press gang much good if they're dead."
"I don't understand," Annie said.
"They force men into service for the Royal Navy," Mr. Allan said. "When Collins' men came aboard the Realm, the captain had me signal the crew. But it was too late for Christopher. They had already grabbed him. Barrette came to his aid, but the lad is no fool. When he saw he was outnumbered, he took off running like the rest of the sailors."
Mr. Allan patted Annie's shoulder. "Don't worry. You are safe."
Annie turned when she heard the captain shout, "We had a deal!"
"As you can plainly see by the press warrant, Captain Hawke, my hands are tied. The Royal Navy needs more sailors. I shan't allow you to interfere with my job simply because you are not loyal to The Crown," Collins replied.
Mr. Montgomery pushed past Mr. Allan and joined in the fray, "What about your loyalty, Mr. Collins? How many bribes have you taken from other captains to secure their crews' safety?"
"My loyalty is not in question, Mr. Montgomery." Collins tapped his snuffbox. "Personally, I thought you and Captain Hawke would be pleased I took the lame one off your hands. We took twenty men off the Legacy yesterday. All able-bodied, I might add. But if you are not grateful, perhaps I should take more." He leered at Annie. "Starting with this young chap."
Captain Hawke stepped between Mr. Collins and Annie.
"The Royal Navy needs strong, seaworthy men," the captain said. "Why would you want my cabin boy or Christopher? Even you called him lame,"
Collins smirked. "How much will you pay to get him back?"
"You despicable little man!" Captain Hawke shouted.
Collins sniffed a pinch of tobacco up each nostril. "It's business, Captain Hawke, nothing more, nothing less."
"Mr. Montgomery will compensate you, Mr. Collins. However, you are never to step foot on my ship again. I would hate to see misfortune befall you."
Captain Hawke's biceps bulged as he grasped Collins under his armpits lifting him off the deck. The man's stumpy legs dangled in space.
"Put me down!"
"With pleasure!" The captain said as he hurled him into the railing.
Collins bounced off the wooden rail before falling in a heap. Two of his men pulled out knives, but when Mr. Montgomery stuck a pistol to Collins' temple, he called them off.
Having sustained nothing more than a bruised ego, Collins struggled to his feet. He retrieved his powdered wig, placing it lopsided on his head.
In his haste to collect payment from Mr. Montgomery, Collins did not see a black ledger fall from his coat pocket, but Annie did. More importantly, so did Captain Hawke.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Christopher returned to the ship without fanfare.
Symington complained to no one in particular, "The cap'n gets the cripple back and loses the fit one."
Annie reached up to Christopher's face and just as quickly pulled her hand away. "You're bleeding," she said
He brushed her aside as he walked across the deck. "Captain, we must do something!"
"What do you suggest, Christopher?"
"Rescue Barrette," he murmured.
"Say it again, Christopher. Only this time, say it like you mean it."
Christopher straightened and in a clear voice said, "Rescue Barrette, Captain."
"Now, that is more like it," Captain Hawke said.
* * *
After consulting with Mr. Montgomery, Captain Hawke had the ship's carpenter brought to him.
"Symington, you will be in Mr. Montgomery's rescue party," the captain said while he ripped out all references to the Realm from Collins' ledger. "I assume you are up to it."
"Aye, aye, Cap'n! Ye know me, always ready for a fight!"
"Be quick about it, or we sail without you. Understood?"
"Understood, Cap'n!"
"Good." The captain turned to Mr. Montgomery, handing him the monogrammed black ledger. "Give this to the proper authorities. Most of Collins' dealings are illegal."
"So, we are to rescue Barrette and give this to the authorities," Mr. Montgomery said while he skimmed through the pages. "Is there anything else you would like us to do? Perhaps, we should bring back feed for the livestock or maybe a new knife for your collection."
"Are you through, Mr. Montgomery? You have contacts, use them." Captain Hawke continued. "Symington, Mr. Allan, Carter and Samuel Baggott are experts with pistol and blades. They will all be in your rescue party. "
"Is it wise sending Mr. Allan and his best bosun mates?"
"Actually, I have decided you will be taking two more. Smitty and Christopher will accompany you as well," Captain Hawke said.
"I can understand Smitty, but why Christopher? Why not a gunner? Now, that would be a good pick."
"Christopher is as capable as any sailor, and he is good with a knife."
"He carves blasted little sea creatures. And if Barrette hadn't tried to rescue Christopher, he would not be in this fix."
"Exactly, Christopher needs to return the favor."
"You are insane."
"You know better than to question my judgment…or my sanity." The captain said with a crooked smile.
"This is a foolhardy mission and you know it. We should have rescued Barrette when he was still on the dock."
"Collins' men were prepared to fight. This time, we will have the element of surprise on our side. Even my cabin boy knows about the element of surprise."
The captain looked at Annie. "What unites a crew more than a foolhardy mission?" Captain Hawke asked.
"A successful foolhardy mission," Annie replied.
"I like the way you think, boy," said the captain.
Mr. Montgomery grumbled as he went off to gather the six members of his rescue party.
* * *
While the first mate gave words of strategy and encouragement to his men, Annie watched Christopher nervously whittle away on a piece of wood.
"My condolences mate," Symington mumbled.
"What are you talking about?" Christopher asked.
"Doubt ye will be making it back, son. But don't worry, I will make sure ye 'ave a proper burial."
"Oh, I'll make it back, Symington. But I am not certain you will," Christopher said. "Do you want a burial at sea or should we simply plant you in the ground?"
It pleased Annie to see Symington speechless.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The ship came alive in its final preparations to weigh anchor. With Mr. Allan gone, Perry piped the captain's orders to the remaining rigging crew. Annie watched the quick movement of the bosun mate's hand—open, shut—as he signaled the crew.
The soft hairs on her arms stood on end when Captain Hawke commanded, "Andrés, when I give the order, hoist the Blue Peter. Rodrigues, show him how it's done."
"Aye, Aye Captain," said the dark eyed sailor. "Come along, Andrés."
Annie followed Rodrigues while the deck crew moved in seamless precision. Annie awaited further orders.
After the sails came out of hiding like giant butterflies emerging from their cocoons, Captain Hawke shouted, "Hoist the Blue Peter!"
No sooner
had Annie raised the blue and white flag, a hush came over the crew. It had obvious significance, she thought. Seeing the sailors' reaction, she asked Rodrigues, "Why is everyone so quiet?"
"The Blue Peter signals those on shore that we are about to sail."
"But we can't sail. The rescue party hasn't returned."
"Don't worry. They will see the Blue Peter," Rodrigues answered.
"Make yourself useful, boy. Go aloft and be our lookout." Captain Hawke pointed to the barrel-shaped structure lashed to the top of the main mast. "And take this."
Annie tucked the spyglass into her waistband before scrambling up the ratlines. Once on the platform, she held the glass to one eye surveying the streets leading back to the ship.
It was not long before she shouted, "I see Smitty and Mr. Allan!"
A roar came over the Realm as the sailors crowded the larboard rail. Minutes later, she yelled another name, "Barrette!"
"How does he look?" Rodrigues yelled up at her.
"Good!" After his ordeal, Annie thought, he looked mighty fine. Her eyes trained on him as he dashed across the dock with head held high.
Her heart skipped a beat. "Christopher!"
The gangly youth ran awkwardly toward the wharf. Once aboard, Christopher's fellow shipmates good-naturedly slapped him on the back.
Annie spied yet another sailor.
"Symington!"
Waving his cutlass in the air, Symington marched on board as if he were leading a parade.
As much as she detested the man, Annie was glad to see he was returning safely. After all, he was still one of her shipmates.
Annie's palms became sweaty when she saw no more sailors approach the vessel. Celebration turned to quiet concern, except for the captain who remained calm at the helm.
She wiped her hand on her trousers before bringing the spyglass back to her eye. "Mr. Montgomery!" Annie shouted.
Cheers rang out while sailors flung their caps into the air.
Mr. Montgomery stopped at the edge of the wharf. Resting his hands on his thighs, he glanced over his shoulder. No one else came into view.
Annie watched with dismay as the gangway was pulled onto the ship after Mr. Montgomery raced on board.
Captain Hawke's command, "Cast off!" reverberated in Annie's ears. The Realm swung away slowly from the wharf.
She didn't put down her spyglass until she saw the last two sailors. "I see Baggott and Carter!" she yelled, her voice hoarse. "Carter's hurt!"
With the ship heading out to sea, Annie knew neither Baggott nor Carter would be joining their shipmates. That fact was not lost on the crew either. Their work chanteys sounded more like dirges sung at funerals.
Annie stashed the spyglass back under her waistband. While she descended the ratlines, she kept her eye on Baggott and Carter, best friends when they came aboard and now best friends about to share the same fate. Undoubtedly, Annie thought, they would soon be joined by a very angry press gang.
Given no further orders, Annie continued to watch the two sailors stranded on the wharf. Baggott unwound his arm from around Carter's waist and patted his friend's back. Carter stared straight ahead as if he were facing a firing squad. Annie gasped when Baggott suddenly rushed behind him and shoved Carter over the edge. The sailor tumbled forward, arms and legs flailing in the air before disappearing beneath the murky water. Baggott dove in after him.
Annie held her breath until she saw Baggott break the surface clutching Carter. He had wrapped his arm under Carter's chin and with his free arm, attempted to swim to the ship. But Baggott made little progress with his panicky friend.
Annie's heart sank until she heard Captain Hawke command, "Heave to!"
The Realm began to slow.
She watched Mr. Montgomery remove his shirt, boots, sword and pistol before plunging off the side of the ship. Annie couldn't imagine anyone surviving a dive from that height, but he made it look easy.
Only when Mr. Montgomery swam to the two sailors, did Baggott relinquish his hold of Carter. Baggot took several gulps of air before swimming toward the rope ladder dropped over the side of the ship.
Mr. Montgomery struggled to avoid Carter's thrashing arms. Annie was amazed at how much strength the sailor still had as he blindly fought Mr. Montgomery's efforts to save him.
She held her breath when both slipped under the water. Just when Annie believed it was a losing battle, they reappeared. Apparently, Mr. Montgomery wasn't taking any chances as he slugged Carter in the jaw. No longer having to fight the sailor, Mr. Montgomery headed back to the Realm with Carter's limp body in tow.
As soon as Baggott and Smitty hauled Carter onto the deck, Captain Hawke remarked, "Can't have too many rescues in one day, now can we?"
Annie noted a hint of a smile on the captain's face. "You had no intention of leaving them behind, did you, Captain?" Annie said.
He answered simply, "There will be plenty of tall tales spun in the fo'c'sle this evening."
"Doc says I shouldn't go to the men's quarters at night. He says it is too rowdy for one as young as me."
"Poppycock. Tonight, you will join your shipmates in the fo'c'sle. You answer to me, not to Doc."
"Aye, Captain," Annie said, even though she knew differently.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
With the wind in her sails, the Realm surged through the choppy sea. Veteran tars moved across decks and through passageways as if they were on dry land. While Annie struggled to synchronize her steps with the up, down motion of the ship, she felt like a child learning to walk for the first time.
Not trusting her stomach, Annie ate little all day. An hour into the evening's second dogwatch, she joined the crew gathered in the fo'c'sle to hear the account of Barrette's rescue.
In his booming voice, bare-chested Ainsworth announced, "Make room for Barrette, Mr. Allan, Smitty, Symington, Christopher, Baggott, and Carter!"
Their shipmates bowed in exaggerated respect as each member of the royal court of seven entered. Cheers of "Huzzah!" rang out when freckle-faced Carter limped in with the help of Baggott.
Led by the striking Ambrose Barrette, the sailors took their places on sea chests laid out for them. Barrette swept his black hair away from his swollen left eye. He listened to the questions fired at them: Did they put up much of a fight? How many did you kill?
Except for the creaking of the ship, the fo'c'sle fell silent. Mr. Allan nodded to Symington. The sailor gazed about his audience with yellow-tinged eyes.
The hair-raising tale began. "There were twenty, maybe fifty of them press men. All fearless, and armed to the teeth they was. What we lacked in numbers, we made up in—what's the word?"
"Determination?" Smitty suggested.
"Aye! Determination. Anyways, Mr. Montgomery…" Symington paused and looked off toward the passageway where the first mate stood leaning against the bulkhead.
"Don't let me stop you, Symington," Mr. Montgomery said. "I will be discussing the day's events with Captain Hawke. Carry on."
Symington craned his neck, making certain Mr. Montgomery was gone before he resumed his tale. "Mr. Montgomery gave the order to attack," he said. "There 'e was, ready to do 'is business, pistol in one 'and, sword in the other. But the lads all stayed back shivering in their boots. Shivering they was, 'til I comes forward to lead the way. With one swoop of me trusty blade, three 'eads went rolling—all three wide-eyed and looking mighty surprised." As Symington batted his eyelashes for added effect, the crew broke into uproarious laughter. "That's 'ow Carter got 'urt. Tripped over one of them 'eads, 'e did!"
Violent pitching and rolling of the ship abruptly ended Symington's tale of Barrette's rescue. The bow to stern, larboard to starboard movement sent sailors toppling into each other. Others dove into the safety of their hammocks.While the ship's bell clanged, Captain Hawke and Mr. Montgomery barked orders. With his experienced bosun mates, Mr. Allan scrambled up the ladder to the hatch.
Annie searched madly for a bucket. Sliding and swaying, she s
aw Barrette in the same predicament. A forceful roll of the ship slammed Annie into the bulkhead. Thankful her head hadn't split open, Annie continued her search for a bucket. She succeeded—only to have Barrette rip it away from her.
Barrette dropped to his knees burying his face in the rusty pail. When there were no more retching sounds, he handed it back to her. Careful not to breathe in the foul odor, she positioned it under her chin.
She saw Barrette's cheeks puff out like a squirrel's full of nuts. He tried to snatch back the bucket, but she held on tight. The ship once more rolled to starboard, sending her toppling onto Barrette. With the contents of the bucket spilling out, Annie emptied her stomach onto Barrette's shoulder.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Doc watched Annie inch her way into his cabin, "What on earth happened," he said as he rolled out of his hammock. He steadied himself. "Didn't I tell you it wasn't a good idea going to the fo'c'sle at night."
"The storm is the problem, not the fo'c'sle, Doc."
Taking a whiff of the odor filling his quarters, he realized what had happened. Helping Annie take off her clothes was no easy task as the ship continued to pitch and roll. He bundled her in a blanket before throwing the foul smelling clothes out into the passageway.
"Am I going to die?" She groaned. "Just tell me. I can take it."
"No one dies from being seasick. You will ride out this storm like the rest of us. Lucky it's not a bad one."
Not a bad one? Annie wondered how much worse it could possibly be.
After Doc cleaned Annie up, they waited for the storm to pass. He spent the night on the floor with blankets swathed across his shoulders while Annie was tucked safely in his hammock.