“the challenger may choose his weapons.” Rufus stepped forward looked sneeringly at Marty, briefly examined both sets of weapons and then selected one. Marty took up the other.
“The contest will continue until one combatant can no longer compete” he announced. “I will declare the winner when in my judgment one of you is no longer able to defend yourself. Take your positions. Remember you must break off the duel as soon as I call hold. If you do not I will shoot you” He then pulled a duelling pistol from a pocket of his coat and showed it to them.
The two of them went to the middle of the green and took up their fighting stances.
Rufus adopted a classic fencers poise with his main gauche held behind his back and his sword arm extended. His right leg forward of his body and flexed so his weight was more over it than the left.
Marty took more of a knife fighters stance, slightly side-on with the hanger in the lead, feet shoulder width apart and knees bent so his weight was evenly spread over the balls of his feet. Rufus frowned when he saw that as if not quite sure what to make of it.
The Master of Ceremonies stood to one side half way between them and levelled a long cane.
“Are you ready? Then En Garde!” The cane lifted out of the way.
Rufus shuffled forward in the classic fencing forward step and Marty let him come. He trusted his defence and speed of reaction to protect him.
Rufus feinted with a thrust to Marty’s face and Marty swatted it away with his main gauche and flicked his hanger at Rufus’s waist.
Rufus jerked back out of range and they settled again.
Marty swung a low attack with his hanger causing Rufus to parry with his dagger and then launched a combination attack with both blades that caused a flurry of parries and ended with Rufus retreating in an arc to his left.
Rufus recovered and launched his own attack. High with the hanger followed by an uppercut with the dagger and then a sweeping slash to the waist with the hanger. Marty parried all three and spun away out of range to set again.
Marty was analysing his opponent and was sure he was being analysed too. There was another exchange and he got a nick on his right bicep which stung but didn’t incapacitate him. He frowned. Something was nagging at him. Rufus launched another attack and the sword hissed passed Marty’s face and he noticed a brief frustrated look pass over his opponents face. He realised that was supposed to be a killing stroke and Rufus had misjudged the range.
Marty suddenly realised Rufus wasn’t used to fighting with a short blade!
He now knew how to win this. Fighters who used long blades tended to stay further apart and now Rufus would have to compensate by stepping in before he made a killing stroke.
He let Rufus launch an attack and backed up slowly then as he stepped back on his right foot he slipped and dropped to a knee. Rufus immediately pressed his attack with a long step forward on his left leg and launched an overhand attack with his sword but Marty didn’t try and block it. Instead he dived forward under the swing knocking Rufus’s dagger aside with his hanger and slicing across Rufus’s extended left inner thigh with his own dagger. He rolled away to the right to complete the move and coincidently avoided the spurt of blood from the severed femoral artery. He came smoothly to his feet to complete the move into guard.
He looked calmly at his opponent who had dropped both his blades and was frantically trying to stem the flow of blood from his leg.
The Master of Ceremonies called
“HOLD!”
and he and the surgeon rushed over and got Rufus to the ground working frantically on him, but after just one minute they stood and looked down at the still body in a pool of its own blood. The surgeon declared.
“He is dead we could not stop the bleeding”
“You are the victor, honour is satisfied” said the Master of Ceremonies.
Marty turned away and walked over to his seconds thinking. What a bloody pointless waist. Wilson silently draped his cloak over his shoulders and Arthur took his weapons and returned them to the table. He spoke to Rufus’s seconds and then shook hands with them and came back to where Marty stood.
“We can go now” he said.
He noticed that Marty’s hands were as steady as a rock.
As they turned to go to their carriage Marty looked over to the two that were parked nearby. He saw a face appear at the window of one and in the morning sunlight he saw a beautiful face framed in auburn hair who smiled sadly and blew a kiss before disappearing into the shadows of the interior as the coach drove off.
Out of the other coach stepped the Count and Admiral Hood who came over and clasped his hand in turn.
“Never doubted you for a minute m’boy” said the Admiral
“You fought with honour mon cher” said the Count “I think it is time to celebrate”
They went to a chop house for breakfast that Arthur had booked in advance and were joined by Evelyn and her mother. Marty wasn’t sure he wanted to eat but the smell of the food soon overcame his reluctance and he wolfed down a man sized portion.
He was a teenager after all.
Chapter 12 Lost Innocence
“Did you have to kill him?” asked Caroline as they lay together in bed after a vigorous bout of lovemaking. Marty looked at her and wondered at the smoothness of her skin which he could see quite a lot of as they were laying on top of the covers.
“I was taught that there is only one way to win a fight and they drummed into me all the places you go for to finish it fast. I can’t fight any other way.”
She looked at him. At times he looked his almost 17 years with a sort of innocence in his face, but when she talked about his past or his life in the Navy, she saw the man he was and part of that man was a killer and a leader. Confident, cool and able.
He had told her about his early life in Dorset and being found by Captain Turner and his influence on him. He also talked about the other mentors he had had, John Batrick, the Cox, who had taught him to knife fight, Tom Savage, who had taught him so much about sailing, The Master, Mr Trubshaw, who had taught him to Navigate, Mr Evans, the Purser, who taught him to negotiate and now Admiral Hood, Armand and the Count De Marchet.
“Dead enemies don’t follow you around” he grinned at her “and I hate looking over my shoulder all the time”
She was nineteen years old, a widow and, although she was only three years older, Marty was aware she was much more experienced than him in life and particularly in sex.
But, she thought wickedly, he was a fast learner.
He had received a note from her the day after the duel inviting him to visit at her London house and the Count had encouraged him to do so. Evelyn had sniffed and put her nose in the air and refused to talk to him about her. He had taken her up on the invite and was now living there while he was in London.
Caroline had inherited a large fortune from her husband and had houses in London and Bath, an estate in Cheshire that covered three thousand acres or more and had enough tenants to populate a descent sized village. She was the youngest daughter of a merchant family and had been married to the much older Lord Candor for her family to gain some social advancement. He was the last of his line and she had inherited his entire estate,.
The rumour that the old boy had expired while ‘in the saddle’ were false as he had actually died of food poisoning after gorging himself on badly cooked Lampreys.
This made Lady Caroline the most eligible widow in Britain. However she resented being treated like some kind of broodmare in waiting and she despised the fortune seeking gadflies who constantly pursued her. Marty on the other hand just accepted her as she was, made no demands, was good in bed (and getting better), was independently wealthy (to her surprise) and didn’t have any interest in her fortune.
“You know I have to visit my family soon” he said “Mum would never forgive me if I didn’t go home for Christmas”
Her heart melted as she caught a glimpse of the young man behind the confident Navy officer in training.
<
br /> “Of course you must go” Caroline replied and started to twirl a lock of her hair around a finger which Marty recognised as a sign she was thinking about something. “Would you mind if I came with you?” she suddenly asked. “I have nothing to keep me here and I don’t want to be alone at Christmas either’
Marty thought that it must be hard to feel alone when you had a house full of servants but then he realised that like a Captain on a ship who had to be separate to his men she couldn’t be social with her servants.
“You know my people are common folk.” he stated. “there aren’t any servants down there”.
She lifted he chin and said “Do you think I can’t manage without servants? My family weren’t born into money either. We had none when I grew up”
Marty laughed and said
“I meant nothing by it. I am sure you could survive anywhere”. Then to distract here he pulled her into a kiss which led to much more interesting things.
Two days later they left in one of Caroline’s coaches and headed towards Dorset. The weather was dry and very cold. They had heard that the Thames had actually frozen, people were skating on it and they were talking about setting up a fair on the ice.
This made the trip faster albeit more bumpy but the expensive suspension on the coach made it relatively comfortable. They also found ‘ways’ to keep each other warm under the blankets that were provided. They stopped at all the usual places to change horses and overnighted in Salisbury on the second night at the George Hotel in the centre of the City near to the Cathedral. From there they changed horses in Blandford and arrived in Wareham after three days traveling.
They pulled up outside the Red Lion Hotel and the landlord nearly fainted when he saw the crest on the coach. The aristocracy just didn’t visit Wareham and they had never stayed at his hotel. He had his daughter act as maid of all works to ‘her ladyship’ and his wife, who Marty knew had as broad a Dorset accent as his mother, suddenly started speaking with a posh accent. Their son who got the job of carrying the bags up to the room looked at Marty who was dressed in fine civilian clothes curiously and then in astonishment.
“Marty?” he asked “Be that you Marty Stockley?”
“Wondered when you would recognise me Tim” he laughed “It’s been a while since we were at school together”
“I heard you was doin’ all righ’ mate, but I never though’ you been and gone and hooked up with a real Lady. Do yer mum know?”
“Not yet and I be thankful if yer would keep it under yer ‘at” Marty said letting his Dorset burr come out. “I wants to surprise ‘er. Right?”
“Don’t yer worry” replied Tim “I’ll keep er under me ‘at. Mind you me mum will strain ‘er throat if’n she don’t stop talking funny”. They both laughed at that.
Marty knew that in spite of the promise in about an hour most of Wareham would know that one of their own had come home with a real Lady in tow.
It was too late for them to visit that evening so they settled down for the night and had a delicious meal of Jugged Steak, Dorset Knobs and Dorset Apple cake.
The next morning they set out and Marty noticed that there were far more people loitering around the crossroads where the hotel was built than usual. He had to resist the temptation to wave as he recognised many of them.
They soon crossed the bridge over the Frome and he saw a familiar blue and white painted barge tied up at the wharf. He smiled at the memory that evoked and looked around to see if he could see any of his old shipmates. They would visit with Miss Turner before they left of course and he hoped The Captain would still be there.
They arrived at his mother’s house. Marty thought of the house as his mother’s even though he owned it, and as the carriage drew up outside he could hear the laughing of children playing and knew at least some of his brothers and sisters were there with their families.
He got out first and then helped Caroline down the steps. She had dressed in a modest dress of sky blue with Dorset lace trim and looked absolutely beautiful. He opened the gate and stepped through when the front door burst open and his sister Helen ran out, jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist yelling “MARTY’S HOME”.
Marty laughed and swung her around and then he was swamped with the rest of his brothers and sisters all wanting to get a hug in greeting. Then the crowd parted and there was his mum. Still beautiful with grey in her hair and a smile on her face. She held out her arms and he went to her and held her surprised at how small she seemed to be.
She held him at arm’s length and looked him up and down. “You’ve growed” she said and ran a hand over his cheek “shavin’ already too. You’m all growed up”. She looked around him and said “baint ye gonna introduce me to yer lady friend?”
Marty looked over his shoulder at Caroline who was still stood outside the gate smiling at him.
“Mum, everyone I would like you to meet Caroline my special friend. Caroline this is my mum and my family.” He took her by the hand and introduced to everyone in turn and finally to his mother”
“I am so pleased to meet you Mrs Stockley” Caroline greeted her “Martin has told me so much about you”
“You cen call me Annie” said his mum with a brave attempt at speaking proper. “Now come on in afore ye freeze to death out here”
Inside the adults sat in the living room and the kids were banished to the parlour and kitchen. Marty had brought a box of wooden toys as presents which he handed out to all the children before they were dismissed.
Annie looked at Caroline and said “You must be a grand lady from the look of yer clothes and that carriage. You be a couple a years older than Marty?”
“And you want to know what my intentions are towards him?” said Caroline with a smile.
Marty looked at the two of them and decided this was one conversation he didn’t want to get into the middle of.
Annie looked her straight in the eye and said.
“He be my youngest boy. He ‘as six older brothers and two sisters and I be seeing them married off to good partners and I will do the same for him”
Marty wanted the floor to open and swallow him up but Caroline didn’t bat an eyelid.
“Annie, I am a widow. I was married off at sixteen to an old man so my family could climb up a rung on the social ladder. He died a year ago and left me a sizeable fortune and a title that I don’t give two hoots about. I have been chased like a fox with a pack of baying suitors who want to marry me for either my title or my money or both. Martin has never even asked about either and has even fought a duel (here Marty really cringed and tried to make himself as small as possible in his seat) to defend my honour. I am very fond of him and will grow to love him. Believe me, I will never hurt him.”
Annie looked at Caroline and then at Marty who was bright red and then chuckled. “You’ll do me girl, you’ll do”
Then she looked at Marty and said “Don’t you just sit there go and get us some tea!”
Marty practically fled to the kitchen followed by Helen his sister wondering what the hell just happened.
“She be beautiful” said Helen
“What?” said Marty coming out of his daze “Oh yes she is and she is kind”
“Is she really a Lady, I mean like Lady Banks?” Helen asked
“Yes she is Lady Candor but she doesn’t care much for the title” Marty replied
“So If you marries her you will be a Lord?”
Marty choked on the piece of lardy cake he was eating and Helen hit him on the back a couple of times until he stopped coughing.
“Marry?” he eventually spluttered “Blow me, I never even give that a thought!”
Helen was relentless “But would you be a Lord if yous did?”
“I suppose I would” he said “but you be puttin’ the cart afore the ‘orse. We be jus’ good friends”
“Yea right.” Helen laughed “Yer brothers were all married by eighteen”
They stayed for lunch and Ma
rty had to tell everyone about his adventures again, which he did, though he left out any stories about his adventures in Kent.
He was pleased that his mother had a comfortable life now and that she could live happily on the money he was providing. He also talked to his next eldest brother, Arthur, who had left the mines and had spent the last four years working as an apprentice smith. He agreed to set him up with his own forge once he was qualified in a year’s time.
They left the house an hour before dark and went back to the Red Lion. Marty tried really hard not to think about what Helen had said but he had to be honest with himself and admit that she had terrified him.
The next day they set off for Stoborough again but this time to visit Miss Taylor. They knocked at the door and Emily answered it. She didn’t recognise him until he asked to see Miss Katy and then she swept him up in a hug. A familiar voice came from behind her
“Martin my boy! How are you” said Captain Taylor as he stepped out from the drawing room to see who the visitors were.
Emily stepped aside and the two men shook hands.
“I am well Sir” Marty replied “May I present Lady Caroline Candor” he said
“Delighted to meet you” Captain Taylor said as he bowed over the offered hand. Marty also noticed the appraising look he gave her and felt a protective pang of jealousy. Before he could react though Miss Katy emerged from the parlour and bustled them all into the house. Once she had them all settled in the drawing room around the fire she asked Emily to bring them tea.
Captain Taylor wanted to know what Marty had been up to since leaving the Falcon and was wise enough not to ask too many questions over the obvious (to him) omissions. He told Marty about their patrol which had carried on for months after he left the ship. They hadn’t collected any more prizes and his biggest problem had been keeping the men occupied.
After Norway they had returned to England for a refit, where he lost some of his men to some mysterious new unit, and then were attached to the Channel Fleet patrolling up and down the French coast. He did have one funny story about a revenue cutter who had hailed them and the Captain had come aboard the Falcon. The lieutenant was very cross and asked Captain Taylor if he was aware that there was a bunch of smugglers out of Deal who had the Admiralties protection. He looked at Marty directly with a raised eyebrow when he said that the Lieutenant in charge of the Cutter that intervened on the smugglers behalf was a Frenchman called Armand something or other.
The Special Operations Flotilla Page 11
