“Were you listening to me at all, Mister Carew? No,” he said, rising and coming around his desk, “I see that you were not. Am I to understand from your words that you consider your time aboard Grappel a failure?”
Alexis nodded, unable to speak for fear she’d begin babbling again.
“Well I certainly do not and have so written in my dispatches.”
“Sir, I …”
“Undermanned and reliant on captured pirates to man the ship, blown off course and away from support by a storm, taken by surprise by those same pirates, armed now and able to move throughout the ship via unexpected means — arms and means, mind you, that went undiscovered by the more numerous and far more experienced boarding party that first took her — and, finally, after retaking the ship against all expectations and faced with an unknown position and an altered navigation plot, to convince those same pirates — men who know full well they’ll hang when caught — to pilot the ship. Name for me the officer who will have faced this better than yourself, Mister Carew. This paragon of foresight and ability, for I have yet to make his acquaintance and I should dearly wish to do so.”
Alexis stared at him, unable to speak.
“Good lord, girl,” Grantham said, his voice hoarse and his face softening. “What do you expect of yourself?”
Alexis opened her mouth to answer, but Grantham held up a hand.
“No,” he said. “You are clearly exhausted and distraught. We will speak of this again, but for now I expect you to recover from your ordeal — I’ll speak to the purser about your water allotment, so please take all the time you need in washing up.”
“Thank you, sir,” she managed.
“We shall be sailing for Dalthus immediately, for the pirates’ other ship contained conclusive proof of Daviel Coalson’s involvement.”
Alexis looked up sharply at this, her eyes narrowing.
“And that is a look that suits you far better than the mask of hangdog sorrow you’ve been wearing.” He regarded her sternly. “You will stay with us until we’ve taken him up for his part in this matter. Should you still wish to resign your position at that time, you may do so. But I tell you with all candor, I would consider it a great loss — both personally and to Her Majesty’s service.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Alexis waited, but Grantham was silent for so long that it caused her to wonder if she’d been dismissed.
“My own first captain said something to me when I was a young midshipman, Mister Carew,” he said finally. “Something which has just sprung to mind for me.”
“What’s that, sir?”
“He said, ‘If only you could see yourself with a mirror of others’ eyes’.” Grantham smiled sadly. “Captain Keene fancied himself a bit of a poet, I think.”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
“I didn’t either, Mister Carew, not truly. Not until today. Perhaps it will not take you quite so long as I.”
“I … thank you, sir.”
“Very well then, go and get some rest.” Alexis nodded and reached for the hatchway. “Oh, Mister Carew, one last thing.”
“Sir?”
“Robert Alan’s time in the Navy was all aboard this ship. I knew what to expect of him as well as any of the crew and I can tell you with certainty, Mister Carew, for the man Robert Alan was when he came to the Navy, for the man he was prior to encountering you … for that man, going over to pirates would not have been a ruse. Please do consider that as well.”
“I will, sir.”
* * *
Though she was exhausted, whatever of the stimulants left in her system unable to overcome the fatigue of the last several days, she simply couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping in her grimy condition. She made her way slowly, almost staggering to the gunroom heads, glad to see that the crew had mostly left the area. Save for three men, she saw, waiting near the heads themselves.
“Mister Carew?” one said as she approached, nodding and raising one hand to his forelock.
Please, I just want to get a little clean and then sleep.
“Yes?”
“Wiggin, sir. Otter and Paradine,” he said, nodding to the other two. “We’re … were Alan’s messmates.”
Alexis closed her eyes. Please not now, she thought, quite imagining what the men must think of her.
“Peters told us what you done, sir. Fer Alan. We just wanted to thank you.”
She opened her eyes, bewildered. “Thank me?”
“Fer staying with him at the end sir, so’s he didn’t die all alone and such. And fer bringing him back.” He glanced around at the others. “Old Alan didn’t like the Dark much — wouldn’t want to’ve been left out there.” He looked down at the deck. “He weren’t much of a man, sir, but, well, he were a fine mate.”
Alexis nodded, even that contradiction somehow making perfect sense to her. “Yes,” she said. “Yes he was.”
“We took a bit of a whip-around of the men, sir, and come up with some’at for you. Heard from Peters how you stayed on the quarterdeck the whole time — thought you might like a proper wash, being a girl and all, so’s everyone put in a bit of their water ration and we spoke to the purser.”
Alexis almost laughed, her eyes full. Between the captain’s words and this, did the whole crew think she did nothing but bathe? She started to tell them that the captain had already authorized all she’d need but saw the earnest look in their eyes. She didn’t quite understand why they wanted to do this, but she did realize that she couldn’t reject what little they had to give. She’d find a way to make it right through the purser later.
“Thank you,” she said, reaching out to grasp his shoulder. “Wiggin.” She looked each of the others in the eye in turn. “Otter. Paradine. Will you thank the others for me,as well?”
“Aye sir, that we’ll do.”
Alexis slid the hatchway open.
“You take your time, sir,” Wiggin said, and she saw that the three men had arrayed themselves like guards. “We’ll see as you’re not disturbed for naught.”
* * *
Alexis stood under the hot water, relishing its burn. She turned it up as hot as she could stand and then further, hoping that the heat would do more than the scrubbing to wash away the last few days. Finally, she shut the water off and toweled herself dry, then wiped a spot clear in the fog-covered mirror and stared at herself in the mirror. There were dark circles of fatigue under he eyes, almost matching in hue the bruise that covered the left-side of her face where Alan had knocked her to the deck.
Her eyes burned and filled again. If only she’d had the sense to see what he was about, instead of judging him so harshly, perhaps she’d have been able to work with him to plan a better time to retake the ship. He might be alive and the sailing master uninjured.
She thought about the captain’s words, and those of Alan’s mates. Neither the captain nor the crew seemed to blame her — quite the opposite, in fact.
She looked about and groaned as she realized that she hadn’t stopped at her cabin to retrieve a fresh uniform. The thought of putting back on those she’d been wearing aboard Grappel was unbearable, but neither could she go running through the gunroom wrapped in a bath towel.
There was a soft knock at the hatchway and she heard Philip’s voice. “Alexis?”
“Yes?” she called back.
“Your guards here let me through. I thought you might like a change of clothes.”
Alexis quickly wrapped a towel around herself and slid the hatchway open a bit. “You are a dear, Philip, thank you.”
Philip blushed brightly and looked away, blindly holding a bundle out to her. She grasped them and laughed, calling out as she slid the hatch closed. “It’s a shoulder, Philip. You’ve two yourself, I think.”
* * *
“Which do you think, Alexis?”
“Hm?” Alexis looked up. She’d been staring blankly at her tablet, unable to really study as she contemplated her decision.
“The scar, Alexis, which is it to be?”
She frowned. “Which what?”
“Were you even listening?”
“I’m sorry, Philip, I was lost in thought.”
“Seems so.” He tilted his head so that the right side was prominent, the scar still horribly raised and purple. “What I was wondering is, should I say the scar’s from an action or from a duel? Roland thinks a duel would be best. Which would you be most impressed by?”
Alexis blinked and then smiled knowingly. “And you’re asking me because I’m a girl?”
“Well, I simply …”
“This is all about impressing the young ladies, next you’re in port, yes?”
“Well …”
“Philip, would you really wish to waste your time on someone who’d be impressed with a silly story about some scar? Without even knowing you?”
“I do see your point, I suppose,” Philip muttered unhappily, and resumed reading his own tablet.
Alexis went back to staring at her own, not really seeing the words. They expected to arrive at Dalthus in four days’ time, at which point she’d have to make a decision about resigning her position or staying aboard Merlin. After I’ve seen that bastard Coalson taken up, though, she assured herself. But whatever her decision at that time, she would have to stick with it, she knew. If she resigned, the Navy would never take her back, and if she did not, she would have to be fully committed.
“Alexis?”
“Yes?”
“Do you suppose I might make a good officer one day?”
She looked up at him, shocked. “Whatever do you mean?”
Philip looked distinctly uncomfortable. “It’s only that this was my first major action, you see? And all I seemed to manage was to get myself knocked about and my face sliced up.”
Alexis thought back to the day of the action and her time on the signals console before Philip had been injured. Hearing him on the gunroom channel, exhorting the men to work harder and faster at the guns, encouraging their efforts and grunting with effort as he hauled shot and worked to right a gun that had been struck and overturned.
“Why on earth are you asking me?” she asked, thinking that he would better ask Lieutenant Caruthers or even Roland.
“It’s only that you’ve done so well in such a short time,” he said.
Alexis stared at him in astonishment. True, she hadn’t discussed her doubts with him, but neither did she understand how he could think she had done well. For a moment, despite what Captain Grantham had said to her, she thought he might be having her on, though it would be a cruel joke and not in his nature, but his face was quite open and earnest.
“Philip,” she said, “I cannot imagine another officer who could have done more on the gundeck that day. I heard everything you said and you quite rallied the men to fight their hardest. It was only bad luck at the end that struck you down, otherwise …” She heard the echo of Captain Grantham’s words to her and almost laughed. Perhaps it was time for her to give more credence to the good opinion of others than to her own doubts. “I have no doubt that you will make a fine officer, Philip, and I will be quite proud to have served with you.”
“Thank you, Alexis.” He turned back to his studies.
Alexis did as well, finding the dense text on darkspace navigation suddenly much easier to read. She glanced over at Philip and her lips curled in an impish grin.
“One day,” she added.
He looked at her in shock, then saw her grin and answered it with one of his own before returning his gaze to his tablet.
Alexis watched him for a moment, considering. The scar, gruesome though it was, did actually grant the young man a more mature and less boyish appearance — rakish, even. And there was no doubt he’d come by it honorably.
“Philip?”
“Yes?”
“The former, if you intend to court her, for you’d not want her to catch you in a lie.” She smiled as she saw his neck flush red again. “The latter if you simply desire a pleasant evening with a young lady of more … liberal nature.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
For this visit, the captain had ordered both boats and all of the marines, meaning to take Coalson no matter how many farmhands he had backing him. And the boats put down on the immense front lawn of the Coalson estate, landing struts sinking deeply into the lush grass. The marines and spacers, both groups armed, poured out of the boats and took up positions around them. Captain Grantham, Alexis behind him, strode purposefully down the ramp. Philip, in charge of the other boat, met them on the lawn and they advanced toward the house, spacers and marines at their back.
A similar group moved toward them from the house, led by Edmon Coalson, collecting more men from the outbuildings as they approached. The two groups came together mid-lawn, stopping a few meters apart and watching each other warily.
“Captain Grantham,” Edmon Coalson said, stepping to the fore.
“My reputation precedes me once more,” Grantham mused. “Mister Coalson the younger, I presume?”
“I am,” Edmon said. “And you are not welcome here, Captain. I’ll thank you to reboard your shuttles and be off.”
“We’re here to speak to your father, lad,” Grantham said. “Would you care to fetch him out or shall I send my men in to find him?”
“‘Fetch’, Captain? I think not, even were he here, which he is not. So I’ll again ask you to leave my property.”
“Not yours yet, unless your father’s dead, lad. I know that much about your laws.” He made a small gesture to Lieutenant Ames.
“Arms!” the marine lieutenant called out and his marines quickly brought their rifles to the ready, pointing into the group, Ames’ own aimed steadily at Edmon. The armed spacers with guns followed suit, though not as crisply as the marines, and those armed only with clubs or blades raised them or swished them menacingly through the air.
Some of Edmon’s men raised their weapons as well, but most looked about uncertainly. They were outnumbered and, certainly, outgunned by Merlin’s marines.
“What are you about, Captain Grantham?” Edmon stepped forward angrily. “This is private land, and you’ve no authority here!”
“I’m in pursuit of a criminal, Mister Coalson, and may go where I believe him to be. Now stand your men down before there’s bloodshed and send out your father.”
“He’s not here, I told you!”
“Then tell me where he is, boy, and we’ll be off.” The captain’s voice was reasonable, but his face was set and his eyes hard. “There’s no need for bloodshed, save you make it so.”
Edmon narrowed his eyes and glared at Captain Grantham. “If there’s bloodshed, Captain, it will be on your head and we’ll ensure your superiors know of it. As for my father —” He grinned. “— I do not know where he has gone.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Grantham said.
Alexis did as well. She studied Edmon’s face and was suddenly struck by the fact that his expression was the same as he’d worn when he’d visited her at her grandfather’s. He’s enjoying this, she realized. And was then as well. She felt her face flush hot with both anger and embarrassment that she’d allowed him to bait her.
“Believe what you will, Captain,” Edmon said, grinning wider. “Invade my home and search, if you like — but you’ll not find him here and I can’t tell you what I do not know.”
More than you can play that game of baiting, Alexis thought and stepped forward, stopping just sort of Edmon and looking him in the eye. His men eyed her warily but kept their distance. We’ll see if you rise to it as well as I did.
“He doesn’t know where his father is, Captain,” she said.
“That’s what I’ve just told you —” Edmon began.
“His father’s running, like a beaten dog. He wouldn’t want anyone to know where he is at all.”
Edmon stared at her, face gone white with rage.
“When a coward like him runs, he does it well.”
“Shut up,” Edmon whispered.
“Mister Carew?” Grantham asked.
“A coward and a pirate and a murderer,” Alexis continued, not responding to the captain and still staring into Edmon’s eyes. “But mostly the former, for he’s only hired the piracy and murder done. Too afraid to handle the deeds himself?”
“Shut your mouth!”
“But hiring’s all this family has the courage to do, it seems.” She remembered what her grandfather had told her of the duel he’d fought before the colony’s founding and how he suspected the elder Coalson had hired it done. “The father hires pirates and the grandfather had to hire out his dueling. No stomach for it themselves.”
“You little bitch —”
“How many deaths did daddy hire done, Edmon? How many innocent merchant crews? Were there women and children as passengers on any? Did he know they’d be killed too?”
Edmon clenched his jaw and stared at her with narrowed eyes.
“Or was he the hireling? Not the leader, him — perhaps he didn’t even know, just a hireling, himself, of the pirates. That’s more likely, don’t you think? Took ambition and skill, at least, to get away with it this long, and that’s not Daviel Coalson at all.
“No, Daviel Coalson’s nothing but a whiny, mewling coward from a long line of them. His father couldn’t even get the lands he wanted most, for my grandfather was always there ahead of him, and the son was no better.”
“Shut up, you little bitch!” Edmon yelled, his face red with rage.
“A worthless, ineffectual coward, run and left his son behind to face things while he scuttles back to the sewers where he belongs —”
“I said shut up!” The crack of Edmon’s hand against Alexis’ cheek echoed across the lawn. “I’d call you out if you were a man!”
The marines and spacers started forward, but Captain Grantham held up a restraining hand, his gaze calculating and never leaving Alexis.
Alexis raised a hand to her cheek and probed the side of her mouth with her tongue, tasting blood. I truly should endeavor to be struck less often.
“You may not call me out regardless, Edmon, for I’m a Queen’s officer. Is this not so, Captain Grantham?”
Into the Dark (Alexis Carew Book 1) Page 25
