Castle of Fire

by Peter Greene

  “An alley?” exclaimed Nathaniel.

  “Now calm down, Nate. Yes, an alley. In a wooden box, to be precise. Gallotta, a hand of mine, found him first. Got a kick to the nose and chest for his trouble, and Jonathan escaped him. It was Steward that eventually cornered the boy and discovered that he was our prize. His friend, Sean, was found first and said he knew a Jonathan Moore, so, well, we took him as well, just to be sure.”

  “Not usually proper for a press gang to take youngsters, is it?” Nathaniel asked, knowing the answer.

  “Yes, yes, but who would complain? Their parents? We were sure we could bend the rules a bit. Nate, you will surely not believe what happened on this mission. And your boy was the one behind it all. And wait until he tells you about Champagne.”

  Nathaniel was shocked into silence. Jonathan met Champagne? How could that be? What twisted plot could have brought those two face–to-face?

  “Then it is time we eat and get all the answers!”

  2

  Dragons in the Admiralty

  Roasted pheasant with plum sauce. Sweet potatoes with sugar and cinnamon. Fresh rolls with cream butter and dates. Thick gravy with white wine sauce. Curried rice and peaches. Beef Wellington and mashed potatoes. And as if there were not enough, a ham that had been boiled in honey.

  At first Jonathan could not believe all the food was real. It seemed he had died and gone to heaven. Both boys tried as hard as possible to use their best manners, but in the end, they were actually slurping so loudly that Captain Moore had to remind them they were not in the cockpit of the Danielle and that there were ladies present.

  But what if it all went away? thought Jonathan. There is too much to eat at once. I had better find a way to save some, just in case!

  For dessert: flaky-crusted cherry pie that was unbelievably scrumptious, with coffee besides and a scoop of delicious vanilla iced cream. Pear tarts with sugar glaze. Plum pudding. Chocolate éclairs. After eating many quickly, Sean did all he could not to belch. However, Jonathan was not so lucky in restraining himself. Just the same, it was all excused.

  “Mrs. Walker,” said Jonathan in an official tone, after eating his third éclair, “coming from a street person such as myself, from one not having the luxury of ever eating indoors as far as I can remember, or even having food close to this magnitude, I must say that this is the best meal I have ever had, bar none.”

  “I agree, Mrs. Walker,” added Sean. “If I never eat again, it will be because nothing can come close to such fare. Remarkable!”

  Mrs. Walker blushed and looked to her husband. “Wherever did you find these boys, William? I would like to keep them both around me, for when I am feeling blue!”

  “My dearest, if we could find a few more like these on the streets of London, Bonaparte would be shaking in his boots! Not only are they gracious, but they can fight as well,” answered Walker. “I can’t agree with them more. Truly a most enjoyable dinner. Can we leave the dishes to Steward and retire to the study? I think a few tales are in order. If we keep the gore and violence out of the telling, maybe the ladies would enjoy the story?”

  Miss Thompson giggled and addressed her brother-in law, “William, don’t leave out all the excitement! We are grown women of the modern world! We can stand a little bit of detail!”

  “Then off we go,” Walker said, and after a few whispered instructions to Steward, he led his guests to the study. All chose comfortable chairs and pulled them close to the fire. Walker added a few logs and poured another drink for Nathaniel. Jonathan settled by his father on a large sofa and held his hand. Sean rather sleepily took up the last cushion next to his friend, leaning heavily on the padded arm. The clock in the corner rang nine times as if to say “Time to tell tales!”

  “Now, where to begin?” asked Walker as all had finally settled in. “There is more than one story here and some start before others! Nathaniel, I think since you have the longer story, maybe you should begin?”

  Nathaniel Moore told the story of his assignment to HMS Troy, a thirty-six gun frigate, and saying goodbye to his small family. As he recounted his disastrous journey from England to the prisons in France, he noticed that with every hardship, with every battle or delay, Jonathan was shaken and seemed concerned as if the tale was happening at that precise moment.

  “No need to worry, Jonathan!” his father said. “I made it back in one piece, as you can plainly see!”

  “Sorry, sir!” he said, relaxing a bit. “It was a good story, though scary at times.”

  Then Captain Walker told of the procurement of the treasure map from the spy, Frasier, and the Poseidon’s race across the Atlantic in pursuit of the Danielle. Mrs. Walker was truly amazed by Sean’s bomb-making abilities, but when she turned to address him for details, they all noticed that the boy was already fast asleep on the couch.

  Walker finished his part of the tale by explaining, in minute detail, the final battle that ended with his taking possession of the French seventy-four Danielle. At times he even used glasses and books as ships and islands to replay the scene on a low table he had moved to the middle of the room. Whenever Nathaniel would grab a glass to suggest a different course of action, Walker would somewhat playfully slap his hands away, retrieve the ship, and announce that it was he, not Nathaniel, who was present at the battle. This made the women giggle at the men and their toys.

  “How did you ever retrieve the treasure?” asked Miss Thompson.

  “Ah,” said Walker, “this is Jonathan’s part of the story.”

  “I went ashore with Gorman and two marines,” Jonathan began. “We followed Frasier’s treasure map that, in short order, led us to a heart-shaped beach. The map said ‘On the heart-shaped beach, look south with a yellow sun and see the skull and the prize,’ but there was no skull! Just a low reef, or so it seemed. When the yellow morning sun arose, the tide went out and the reef was actually an island—shaped like a skull!”

  He continued telling the tale. Those not knowing the outcome sat in disbelief, but smiling and clapping all the same, especially at the point of finding the treasure. When he told of Champagne’s appearance and his idea to sink them in their tiny boat, Jonathan was proud at first, then seemed disturbed when he told of the sharks and Champagne’s demise.

  “I had to turn my head. I couldn’t watch,” he said. His father reached around him and patted his shoulder.

  “Jonathan, life is hard and war is even more difficult. You did what you had to do—to save your friends. And since it was Champagne who captured me, I have to say thank you for evening the score in such a dramatic way. England owes you her gratitude.”

  Steward entered and refreshed drinks and the like. At this break in the conversation, the ladies retired to perform some secret maneuvers and plans of their own, as they explained. After a brief silence and a few pokes at the fire, the conversation continued.

  “Now that it is just the officers,” said Nathaniel, “I must ask Jonathan about his days on the streets.”

  “It was hard at first,” he said after a long pause. His eyes seemed to darken as he remembered those times. He certainly did not want to hurt his father with the sadness that surrounded those days. But after a bit of encouragement, he launched into his tale.

  “If Sean were awake he could tell you there were long stretches of days when we ate nothing, at first. But we teamed up and found odd jobs where food was the pay. After a while, we had almost steady work at a variety of places, and though we only ate once a day, we did sufficiently well, considering.”

  Jonathan told of the harsh winters he had suffered through and the meanness of the bullies and men on the streets—not in an attempt to solicit pity or guilt, but just stating the facts as they were. Nathaniel listened through clenched teeth and fists, suffering the tale and blaming himself for all that had happened. In the end, he found that he could only wonder at his son’s cheery attitude and refined manners—certainly better than could be expected from one who had lived a short life fill
ed with adversity. Nathaniel recognized what excellent character his son had, and he was proud.

  “I must say,” Jonathan continued, “after all that, I am certainly the most fortunate boy alive! Not only to have my father by my side, but to have such a great extended family as the Walkers and my relations from the Danielle. Even crotchety old Steward has been like a mother to me. Harrison, he’s been like my older brother, and of course, Sean. He is an inspiration and a model of bravery. Though now,” he continued, looking at his friend, “he seems less attentive—yet still happy as a kitten!”

  As if on cue, the clock now struck twelve. They had been telling their tales for three hours straight and it was now time for bed. As they rose, quite unexpectedly, the door knocker boomed three times. Walker looked at them all in wonder.

  “Pardon me,” he said and exited the room, making his way to the front door. When he opened it, he was shocked to see Gorman standing there in the cold night. He held a small package wrapped in plain brown paper.

  “I’m dreadfully sorry to disturb you at such a late hour, Captain Walker. But I have both good and bad news and believed it best to deliver it in person.”

  “Please come in, Captain. A cup of coffee?”

  Gorman refused politely as Walker closed the door. Captain Moore and Jonathan made their way to them as well.

  “Gorman!” said Moore. “What a pleasant surprise. I never did thank you enough for your part in all this.”

  “Don’t mention it,” said Gorman, tipping his hat, then removing it. “Truly a privilege to assist in any way, Captain. Is there a place we can talk, gentlemen?”

  Walker led them to the study, where Sean was still asleep on the couch. The ladies had gone upstairs to fix beds for all the guests. It had been decided that the Moores and Sean were to stay here for the night. Steward had already bedded the horses in the stable and wrapped them with warm blankets.

  All sat once again, save Gorman, who stood by the fire and took a pear tart that somehow had remained on the serving dish.

  “Again, Captains, so sorry for the inconvenience,” Gorman said. “Here is a small gift for young Flagon. Can you please have him open it tomorrow morning?”

  “Of course,” said Walker. He took the gift and set it on a table by the cabinet. “You mentioned good and bad news, Captain Gorman,” Walker continued, “Please clarify.”

  “Why, Yes, sir,” Gorman said. “The good news first. You are invited to a meeting tomorrow at one in the afternoon precisely—”

  Walker exploded.

  “By the gods and saints! I have just gotten back!”

  This outburst caused Gorman and Jonathan to bolt upright and stiff, standing at attention. Sean even awoke and quickly stood, rigid, staring straight ahead. Nathaniel could only chuckle.

  “I am sorry, sir,” added Gorman, before Walker exploded again.

  “We have been ashore less than seven hours and I can’t be left alone! I need time to relax! I am not going to meet with anyone tomorrow or the next day, I can assure you! Not even to meet with the King himself!”

  Gorman seemed to choke a bit, then took a breath and said, “Then I will ask that you tell him yourself, sir.”

  “Tell whom?” yelled Walker.

  “The King,” said Gorman. “It is His Majesty King George himself who has requested your presence.”

  All were dumbfounded. They stood in silence for what seemed to be minutes, looking at each other in unvoiced astonishment.

  “T-the King?” asked Jonathan.

  “Holy—” said Sean.

  “Yes,” said Gorman smiling. “I could send word that you are ill, Captain, but I am not sure that will be acceptable.”

  Walker finally regained his senses and nodded his head firmly.

  “Well. Of course. I will be there promptly. Please tell His Majesty that I am grateful and honored as well.”

  “Yes, sir,” Gorman said, adding, “The appointment is at Windsor Castle and it is not just you, sir. He wishes to see Lieutenants Langley and Harrison, and midshipman Moore and his father. Flagon as well. I do believe you are all to be decorated.”

  “Decorated?” asked Sean.

  “Like a tree for Christmas?” asked Jonathan.

  “No, no,” said Captain Moore. “He will most likely grant a few gifts and—oh Lord. This could be a knighthood for you, William!”

  Walker now was truly shocked into silence. He thought of what an honor it would be to be made a Knight of the Realm, Sir William Walker. But he quickly shook this off.

  “It would be the death of me! I’d lose my command. I’d have to join parliament! Let’s not hope it comes to that. I just want the Danielle and an open sea!”

  They all reflected for a moment about what they each would like their futures to hold, and it was odd that, though unsaid, they all knew they wanted the same thing: to be at sea once again.

  “There is more, I am afraid. The bad news. Before our lunch, Captain Walker is to come before the Admiralty. For review . . . and a court’s marshal.”

  “What?” This time it was Nathaniel who exploded. “Of all the ridiculous—!”

  “What is a court’s marshal?” asked Jonathan.

  Gorman explained that it is a trial of sorts, with Admirals as the judges. In any matter where a ship is lost, a reason must be given. A decision must be made to either punish the captain, or dismiss the matter.

  “I am sure it will be dismissed, sir!” Jonathan said. “We will stand with you and—”

  “You never want to go before the Admiralty, Jonathan,” his father said. “It is always a roll of the dice. Logic and reason have no place there. I have seen the most preposterous judgments handed down. I will attend, of course.”

  Gorman bid them all goodnight, as he had not yet been home to his wife this evening. He wished them a merry Christmas and good luck for tomorrow. All watched as the marine left, and each silently pondered Gorman’s true role in the military. A spy? Most assuredly, but to what extent? He had obviously been to see the King already, or at least his aides. He remained a mystery.

  After a brief discussion, it was decided that nothing could be done about anything until the next day. All were exhausted and needed rest.

  After changing into night clothes, Jonathan and Sean were escorted to a small room on the upper floor, where a window offered a grand view of the city. Miss Thompson had them tucked in tight and added another log to the small fireplace in the corner. Within minutes, Sean was fast asleep, snoring away, a smile on his face. Miss Thompson sat by his bed and stroked his hair from his face.

  What a charming boy! It would be a proud mother who could claim him as her own. I only wish that someday, I may have one such as this.

  She bent over and placed a kiss ever so gently upon his forehead. She could not be sure, but it seemed that in the flickering firelight, Sean’s little smile grew just a bit.

  She then moved to Jonathan, straightened his sheets about him and smiled. He was still awake, but sleepy to be sure.

  “A long day, Jonathan? A long few years?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. And I thank you for your kindness,” he said. After a moment, he asked “Can you believe we are to see the King? How should I behave? I-I don’t know how to bow properly or salute a King. Does one salute a King? What will I wear?”

  Miss Thompson smiled and shook her head.

  “I have never had an audience with the King,” she said, “however, I am sure you will be briefed as to how to behave. Your father has seen him and will instruct you, I am sure of it. As for what to wear, I have to say that your midshipman’s uniform looks quite striking on you. I will have your blouse and trousers washed and pressed in the morning. Steward will fix your coat and hat. Now please go to sleep, Mr. Moore.”

  “Again I thank you, Miss Thompson,” Jonathan said through a yawn.

  As she rose to leave, Jonathan had one more question.

  “Did you know my mother?” he asked in almost a whisper.

&
nbsp; Miss Thompson was shocked, but then recovered quickly. Of course Jonathan would want to know about his mother, but he probably felt cautious about asking his father. She sat back down next to his bed and held his hand lightly.

  “I knew her, yes. We met a few times before your parent’s wedding and once after, at a ball. She was a beautiful and kind woman, Jonathan. Your father was very much in love with her and they made a charming couple. Everyone who knew her was fond of her. She was a wonderful and caring mother.”

  “I know that. I can only just remember her face, just a little,” the boy said. “She was kind to me, as you are.”

  “And she would be proud to see you now, Jonathan. As proud as we all are. You have become quite a charming and accomplished young man. Your father told me how the hope of being reunited with you kept him alive through all his trials. Did you also know that he was alive, waiting for you to be found?”

  But there was no answer. Jonathan had finally fallen asleep.

  Miss Thompson smiled. As she arose, her hand brushed against something under his pillow—an object covered in cloth. She removed it slowly to discover that it was a napkin from the table. Upon unwrapping, she found an untouched dinner roll and a slice of ham. Further unfolding revealed a plum tart and a few other bits of food.

  She then rose and went to Sean’s bed. Under his pillow she found a wrapped pheasant’s leg, two rolls, three slices of ham and a half-eaten chocolate éclair. Concerned, she took all the food and turned to leave the room. A figure stood in the doorway, and at first she was startled, almost crying out, but then she recognized Nathaniel Moore. He was smiling.

  “Thank you for tucking them in. I needed a few words with William,” he said softly.

  “But of course,” she whispered. “How long have you been eavesdropping?”

  “Eavesdropping?” Nathaniel said, smiling warmly. “Well, I have been accused of a great many things, Miss Thompson, but I have never been accused of eavesdropping. However, if you must know, I heard your whole conversation with Jonathan.”