by Peter Greene
As Spears left in disgust, Sean stood up and grabbed Stewie from the nearby rail.
“Stewie is already full, as he’s been ratting all day!” said Sean, giving the little tabby a scratch on the head for good measure. “Some rats are even bigger than he, so maybe he could use some help!”
Later in the day, Walker, Holtz, and Koonts sat at the Captain’s table with coffee and some stale bread that had been sugared by Steward. The midshipmen were in a row behind, standing at attention. Across from them, all alone on the opposite side of the table, sat Kozak. He daintily dipped his bread in his coffee and tried to keep the dripping to a minimum. Walker started the conversation.
“Captain Kozak, tell me the details of this information you mentioned.”
Kozak smiled, patting his chin with a napkin, then dipped a large slice of the delicious sugar bread into his coffee, smacking his lips as he ate the last bite. He leaned back in his chair and wiped his mouth one last time.
“It is the original mission I was hired to perform that will be of great interest to you, Captain Walker,” said Kozak.
“Yes, that much I have heard. What is it?” said Walker impatiently.
“I must start at the beginning, then,” said Kozak. “Please indulge me as I tell the tale. Now, the Spanish and the French, as you know, are allied against your King, isn’t that right?” asked Kozak.
“It is common knowledge, yes,” said Walker.
“So, enter into this tale a few hundred Chinese ironworkers. The Chinese make beautiful silk and have wonderful spices and exquisite artwork. They also have invented a thing here and there, including . . . the cannon. They make them in China, as they have been making them for centuries.”
“All common knowledge, Kozak,” puffed Walker. “Where is this going?”
“Just setting the stage, Captain, please! Here is the gem: the French Navy has by now already picked up a large amount of Chinese cannon. They need to deliver them to the French army, now in northern Africa. And the fastest and safest way is not via the Mediterranean Sea—too many English ships cruising about! The best solution is to deliver them to a point in Africa.
“Chinese cannon?” said Koonts.
“Not all in China, with its many families and factions, are completely, how shall I say, comfortable, with the English and the East India Company that manages trade. I am sure you have some knowledge of the unrest there?”
“Yes, yes, continue with your tale,” said Walker.
“Now, a new player enters,” continued Kozak, performing the tale as if it were a great play, and so it was for many in the room. “Generalissimo Miguel Aguilar, a Spanish arms dealer, really, is in such a position to receive these cannon and arrange for their delivery.”
“This Aguilar is to arrange for transport of the cannon to the French through Africa? Impossible! It is a wild jungle!” said Koonts.
“Not as wild as you think. And not all will go overland. Some will be sent on smaller ships, in disguise, a few here, a few there.”
“And how does this involve you, Kozak?” asked Walker.
“Almost there, Captain,” said Kozak. “The Generalissimo, being a greedy little fellow, quickly determined he could shave a few cannon off the top and make a fast fortune selling them off in the new world. Since my normal career involves moving goods of a ‘delicate nature,’ I was to outfit the Fiero, meet with a small transport ship or two, collect Aguilar’s cannon and sell them off to buyers in South America. All this before the French Army even knew they had arrived. ”
Walker stood up and walked to the stern windows and looked out upon the sea. He didn’t think he could believe Kozak and, as of yet, there was nothing in the tale that interested him. At best, he could find out exactly where the French were going to deliver the cannon and perhaps try to meet them for a fight. But if all he wanted was a fight, he could sail to any number of French ports and have it out. No need to find this particular ship. Why is Kozak telling me this? he wondered. Just to buy time? To delay my delivering him to the authorities in London?
“Captain Kozak, you are telling me that the French are delivering a few cannon to the Spanish and a corrupt Spanish general is going to sell them off instead of giving them to his army? It actually sounds fine to me, meaning there will now be a few less cannon firing upon British soldiers.”
“Ah, but there you are wrong, my dear Captain,” said Kozak, excitedly. “There are not a few cannon, unless over one thousand are considered a few! They are sailing in a squadron of at least six merchant ships, all full to the gills! Why, Aguilar’s skim alone amounts to over one hundred! Wouldn’t that be a pretty thing if you were to send them all to the bottom of the sea?”
Walker was now interested. He reasoned that if this outlandish tale could even be true, stopping a thousand cannon from reaching Napoleon’s army would indeed turn the tide of the land war in Britain’s favor. But he was not quite ready to give in to Kozak just yet.
“If this outlandish tale could even be true,” said Walker, “it tells me nothing. It is a shot in the dark, with no detail or timetable—just hearsay. And a squadron of merchant ships carrying so many cannon would surely be protected by a dozen or so French battleships.”
“Ah! Now I will sew it all up nicely with two more facts!” exclaimed Kozak. “Fact one: the French are running short on ships, as you must be aware. In fact, you are sailing on one now, isn’t that right?”
Walker did not answer, but all knew it was true.
“This squadron only has two frigates of thirty-six guns for protection!” exclaimed Kozak. “They are no match for the mighty HMS Danielle and the cunning Captain William Walker! And fact two, my dear Captain: I know exactly where this small squadron of ships is to meet Generalissimo Aguilar and approximately when.”
“How do you know this?” asked Koonts.
“I have seen the manifest, the shipping order that lists the items on the ship and when and where they are to be delivered! Are you now interested?” asked Kozak, the pirate already knowing the answer.
“If this is true, then yes, I am interested,” Walker said, turning back to Kozak. “However, considering your position as a pirate, I am not sure you can be believed at all.”
“Oh, Captain!” Kozak said, feigning insult. “We are cousins, we Americans and you English! How can I make you believe me?”
“Tell me where the manifest is. Do you have it on your person?” asked Walker.
Kozak laughed aloud.
“Captain Walker, if I had it on my person, you would have found it by now. I have been searched thoroughly by your marines. No, I do not have a copy. As I said, I have only seen a copy.”
“Where is it now?” demanded Walker, quickly losing his patience. “I have a mind to string you up the yardarm, which is very much in my right as a British Naval Captain, and toss your body to the depths of the ocean.”
“Now, now, now, let us not be too hasty!” said Kozak, quickly. “Captain! We need to make a deal. I tell you these things not from the goodness of my heart, but as you have now confirmed, for the purpose of sparing my skin! I want to be freed. Then, I will tell you where the manifest resides.”
Now it was Walker who laughed.
“My, my, Kozak, are all Americans as amusing as you? We are on the horns of a dilemma, aren’t we? On one hand, you might be telling the truth and you do know where the manifest is. But once you tell me, I have all I need and you have only my word that I will set you free.”
”No disrespect meant to you, Captain Walker,” said Kozak. “I am sure you are a gentleman of the best sort; however, I trust no one.”
“And I don’t trust you, Kozak. I think this is a tall tale and you are lying to save your skin,” said Walker. “The best I could do for you would be to speak of your assistance when we reach London. I could convince the court to spare your life.”
Kozak frowned.
“That won’t do, Captain Walker. A life in prison will be as much a death as the gallows or the
guillotine.”
“It is not up to me to free you,” said the Captain. “That is for the authorities in London. There is no manner in which this deal can proceed without your story being proven. Give me the location of the manifest. If I can obtain it and it matches the list of ports you allege to know, I will speak for you myself. To the King if necessary.”
Kozak hesitated. He thought for a full minute as he stood and walked about the cabin. He stared out the window and tapped his foot, wondering if he could trust Captain Walker. He knew his other choice was the gallows and death, and most possibly in the next few minutes if Captain Walker intend to use the yardarm of this ship as a gibbet. He knew he had no choice and no other prospects—yet. For now, he would go along with this until a way out could be found.
Finally he sighed loudly and turned to face the Captain. “Well then,” said Kozak, nodding his head. “Will you at least promise to keep me until you return to England then?”
“I have said as much, Kozak.”
“Here, then,” Kozak said softly. “Do you know of the Spanish colony in Africa by the name of Rio Muni?”
“I have heard of it,” said Koonts. “It is at the nook of the continent, on the western seaboard just south of Bioko Island—a terrible, dangerous place, nothing of value at all. Slave trading is its main business. It is surprising the Spanish continue to hold it.”
“Surprising, yes; however, understandable,” said Kozak, pausing for effect, “if one needs a suitable port to conduct discreet activity, and yes, as you mentioned, slave trading. But also other items need some special handling, items such as cannon.”
“And this is where the manifest is now?” asked Walker.
“Indeed. The manifest is currently in the newly constructed Fort de la Selva. I was to meet Aguilar there on or about the fifteenth of May to take on my cargo. The manifest is in his office. It will tell you all you need to know.”
“We will discuss this privately, Kozak,” said Walker. “Take him back to the brig. For your sake, this tale had better be the truth.”
As Kozak was led to the door, he turned and addressed the Captain one more time.
“The tale is as true as your word, my dear Captain Walker.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Walker said with a smile.
11
Planted Seeds
At the Governor’s mansion on the second evening of their return, the officers of the Danielle, complete in their best cleaned and brushed uniforms, dined with the Dowdeswells and a few of the more affluent citizens of the port of Nassau. The dinner was superb, and even Spears seemed to behave himself, avoiding Jonathan and Sean completely, and somewhat politely listening as Harrison told the tale of the capture of the Drake, to great effect. The guests were astonished at the idea of a handful of men and two boys taking a ship away from “at least fifty pirates” according to Mr. Harrison’s ever-expanding count. Most amazing and shocking to the Governor himself was the role Delain played. As usual, she was calm and reserved about the whole affair, only saying “It all came quite naturally to me. No trouble at all, really.”
As the dinner went on and dessert was served, Jonathan noticed that Delain was becoming ever more silent and even refused her strawberry tart and chocolate sauce.
“I am feeling a little under the weather,” she said to Jonathan softly. “It must be all the excitement of the last few days.”
Jonathan at first felt sorry for her; however, the more he considered her comment, he concluded that it made no sense. Delain seemed fine during all the doings with pirates, turtles, and even when under fire from the Danielle. Why was she suddenly ill from ‘excitement’? he wondered.
As the plates were being cleared and the after-dinner drinks were passed to the older men and officers, Governor Dowdeswell offered a toast to the Heroes of the Drake, as they were now known to all of Nassau.
“A toast and salute to Lieutenant Harrison and Midshipman Moore! Along with Seaman Flagon, it is a wonder the French have not yet surrendered!”
There was a general laugh, with many cheers and much applause for the boys. Even Harrison blushed for an instant this time as Jonathan and Sean nodded to each other, glad that they could assist their friends in any way.
“I am certainly comfortable that my daughters will be in safe hands when they depart on your ship, Captain,” said the Governor. “We wish you all a safe voyage and the best of luck.”
“Excuse me,” Captain Walker said, trying to politely interrupt the Governor. “A small change of plans, Your Excellency. Some recent developments require me to transport the ladies immediately aboard the Drake with Lieutenant Blake. I know that shortens your time with them. One could always await another transport.”
“Really? Well, I would rather put them on a fighting ship than a cargo clipper. At least the Navy is filled with gentlemen, eh? Captain, I will hasten their packing. We will have them ready tomorrow morning.”
“I appreciate your understanding, Governor. I must take the Danielle immediately to Southern Africa, I am afraid.”
“Africa?” blurted Delain. “How exciting!” She suddenly had a wild look in her eyes as she imagined how wonderful and exhilarating a trip to Africa must be. Certainly, the lions, tigers, elephants, and rhinoceroses would be endlessly more fascinating than the polite society of London.
“Delain!” scolded the Governor. “Please do not interrupt! You see, this is why sending the young ladies to London is in order! They are in dire need of some culture and could practice their manners. Pardon the outburst, Captain.”
“Not at all, Your Excellency. As a Navy man yourself, I am sure you understand the temporary nature of all plans when it comes to the war.”
“Indeed I do, Captain,” said Governor Dowdeswell.
“I will instruct Lieutenant Blake to do everything in his power to assure the comfort and safety of your daughters,” said Captain Walker, nodding in respect. “I am sure he will be honored to turn over his cabin for their usage. I will assign a top-notch crew to assist him. Is that still to your liking?”
“If you assure me it is a safe option, then yes,” said the Governor.
“The safest available,” answered the Captain. “We plan to depart tomorrow morning, so we must thank you for this beautiful evening and return to our ship. We have much work to complete before we set off again.” Walker turned to his officers and Sean: “Gentlemen?”
All rose to bow to Lady Dowdeswell and her daughters, and after a moment, all rose to leave the table and say their goodbyes. Jonathan stood and pulled out Delain’s chair, a very gentlemanly thing to do. However, as she stood, Delain swooned and dropped towards the floor. Sean was there to catch her before she could injure herself. In an instant, all crowded about, offering to assist in any way.
“Dear me,” cried Lady Dowdeswell. “Whatever is the matter, Delain?”
Delain blinked a few times, looking about as if lost.
“What happened?” Delain said, looking to Jonathan. “How did I get down here?”
“You fainted, Miss Dowdeswell,” he said, though to Jonathan, she seemed a little too animated, almost as if she were acting the part of an ill person. Not being a doctor, he really couldn’t say how sound she was; however, he had his doubts. “Are you all right?”
Delain assured everyone present that she was just fine. However, in the end, her father had a servant carry the girl to her room and another was sent for a doctor. The evening was over.
The next morning, both ships completed the final preparations and loaded stores of food and water. Crew members who were chosen to sail with the Drake moved their gear to their new ship. The officers met in Captain Walker’s cabin for a breakfast of eggs and bacon, toasted cheese, and finally, to the joy of primarily the Captain, oil-fried anchovies appeared on a platter from Steward’s small galley.
“Spa-len-did!” exclaimed the Captain as he took notice of the crispy fish. “And to think that in these warm waters they were available!�
�
“Truly a gift of heaven, sir,” said Steward. “Must ‘ave swum all the way from Peru. Got ‘em in the nets early this mornin’.”
Spears was disappointed to learn that Lieutenant Blake would take no midshipman with him aboard the Drake. At the end of breakfast, he thought to suggest to the Captain that sending Jonathan would be satisfactory.
“If I may, Captain,” Spears asked, “I’d like a word with you about the assignments you have chosen for the Drake.”
The Captain simply looked up from his last anchovy and began turning from his normal pale white to a deep crimson.
Anticipating an outburst of tremendous proportions from the dragon, one after another all quickly blurted out excuses to leave, saying, “Much to be done, Captain,” or “Begging your pardon sir, some bookwork to complete,” and even “Pardon me, Captain, time to inspect the deck.” With those words, the guests began running for the door—all except Holtz, who decided he would stay for the show. He grabbed a last cup of coffee, leaned back in his chair, and at last glance, Jonathan could swear he was grinning.
“Yes, Captain,” Spears continued, “I believe sending Mr. Moore with the Drake, since he seems to have gotten credit for the capture, would be—”
“How dare you question my orders!” Walker roared.
“But Sir,” came Spears’s feeble whine, “I was just—”
Those were the last words anyone heard from Spears, as Captain Walker, now a ferocious, fire-breathing dragon yet again, let fly with a stream of colorful expletives, vivid metaphors, and vicious insults that even had Steward cringing.
“Ouch!” he said as he closed the Captain’s door and stepped quickly outside. “Cap’n’s in rare form today! ‘aven’t ‘eard those words since I was a young pup, in the boarding school. It takes a talent to wax so expressive!”
