He Who Dares: Book One (The Gray Chronicals 1)
Page 36
“I take it you read this, John.” He tapped the pad with a perfectly manicured forefinger.
“Yes, sir, I did take the liberty.” That wasn’t unusual, as being the King’s Private Secretary it was his duty to read all incoming documents, unless marked ‘EYES ONLY’.
“What do you think?” The King asked as he drank the last of his coffee, the self-heating cup kept the coffee at the perfect temperature.
“It's hard to say, sir, but one thing that did surprise me was the Lady Ann’s insistence on your reading the attached report.”
“I know, it reads more like some wild adventure story than an official naval report.”
“That is does, sir.”
“Yet, I have just finished reading the official Admiralty report of the same incident, and they are nothing alike.”
“No, sir, but I’d put my money on Lady Ann’s report rather than the Admiralties, sir.”
“So would I, but how on earth can I put any credence in this, good god, it reads like fiction!” He laughed.
“If half of what Mr. Gray put into the report is true, sir, and I think there might be a few things left out, he’s one fine officer.”
“Hopefully I will get a more intimate report from Lady Ann once she has had a good night's sleep.”
“Of course, this report on her adventure is interesting enough by itself, but what about her primary mission?” The king looked sideways at Cromwell, seeing the man smile slightly. “I take with from the smile it went well?”
“It did your Majesty, but it comes with one or two surprises.” The fact that he didn’t enlighten his Majesty only deepened the mystery.”
“However, I was instructed by the Lady Ann that she will give you a full and detailed verbal report on that part of her mission first thing in the morning, sir.” He saw the King smile.
“Damn the impudence of the girl.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “If that is the case, why did she feel I needed to see this report?” He held up the data pad.
“That, I can’t say, sir.”
“Damn if you can’t John. You know more than you are tell, as usual,” he grumped, “I am the bloody King after all!”
“Yes, sir, I had noticed that.”
“Then?”
“I can only say, that I feel that the Lady Ann was… is rather, taken with the young man in question.”
“About time.”
“Yes, sir,” they both smiled at that, “and the young man?”
“Yes, what about the young man.” The King mused, thinking for a moment. “Admiral Rawlings promoted him from Ensign to sub Leftenant.”
“A commendation might be in order.”
“Oh, that at least, the boy deserves the damn VC for rescuing the Lady Ann and the rest of the courier people, not to mention getting everyone out of Sirrien hands and home safe.”
“I agree, sir, but if the Navy and the PM have their way, this will be swept under the rug and forgotten, along with our young Mr. Gray in the process.” More than one promising your officer had vanished into the unknown of some forgotten command, and out of harm’s way.
“I think it's about time we started making additional changes at the Admiralty, sir.”
“Ummm, a bit premature don’t you think?” The King sipped his Brandy, absently tapped his fingernail against the Brandy balloon, deep in thought. “It could be we need to promote a few of the worse ones to the ‘home’ fleet.” He said at last. His secretary nodded, as ‘home’ fleet meant forced retirement to an honorary position with no direct authority within the service.
“As to the young man, we need to find him something interesting to do, something worthy of his talents, and see how he handles that.”
“He is a colonial, sir.”
“John, I’m surprised at you, of all people!” He answered gruffly, but not unkindly.
“No, sir, I didn’t mean it that way. I too would like to see the ‘Earth-born-Colonial-Born’ attitude nipped in the bud before it’s too late.”
“If it isn’t already.”
“We have seen the effect that has had over the years.”
“Yes, it's inevitable that the colonies will go their own way eventually.” He sighed seeing a bleak future ahead. “I was hoping this time we can keep them together in some sort of homogeneous association like the Commonwealth, and not see then break down into warring factions.”
“Yes, sir, and naval policy and tactic have a lot to do with that.”
“Yes, they do. As it is, if we are not careful, it will be us who's invaded and conquered.”
“That’s a scary thought.”
“So, the young man, Leftenant Gray?” The King murmured, bringing the conversation back to the subjects at hand.
“Yes, your Majesty. I was about to ask if you were aware of the young man’s parentage?”
“Parentage?” The King looked puzzled for a moment, but Cromwell didn't ask idle questions.
“I did make some discreet inquiries through our own diplomatic channels, and thought you might be interested in the answer.”
“Gray… Ummm, let me think… Good heavens, you don’t mean?”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
“Well, well, well, that is a turn up for the books.”
“I double checked, just to be sure, and officially our contacts on Avalon know nothing about the young man, however…” He let the sentence hang.”
“They aren’t willing to admit he’s theirs, or even here?”
“No, sir. From the wording of my contacts message, I get the distinct impression they know who he is, but not where he is.” Hearing that, the King let out a short laugh.
“Har! He ran off to join the circus as they say?”
“I believe it’s a little more complicated than that, sir, but from what I read in the report, and from what the Lady Ann had to say, he is a very capable young man.”
“We shall definitely need to find something interesting do, and see if he is anything like… well, you know.” Even in the supposed seclusion and safety of Buckingham Palace, walls had ears. He left unsaid what he was thinking, but he saw Cromwell nod. “The VC and a promotion to, say, First Leftenant?”
“Sounds like a good ‘thank you for services rendered.” John murmured.
“And increase his standing. It would also put a lot of his fellow officer on notice to behave.”
“I’ll draft the official message tonight, sir.”
“Good, and send First Leftenant Gray an invitation to the party the Prince of Wales is putting on, I would like to meet him informally and see how he looks.”
“Very good, sir, good night.” James Cromwell finished his drink as he stood, departing as soft footed as ever.
“Good night, John, pleasant dreams.”
“And you, your Majesty.” He bowed slightly and left the room to head back to his office to put in two more hours of work.
The King watched his departure, a slight smile on his face as he thought about the irony of history repeating itself. More than one Cromwell had served England, some for the good of it, other not so. Having known each other since they were children, he had no doubt as to where this John Cromwell’s loyalty lay. With so few around him he could really trust he knew he was going to need that loyalty in a short while.
* * * * * *
Mike groaned as he woke at 05 dark the next morning feeling as if he’d been run over by a stampeding herd of elephants, the sound of reveille echoing inside his head. His mouth tasted like the inside of a well-used sock, sort of hairy and sticky. With some effort, he swung his legs over the side of the bunk and sat up. You’d think that after a good twelve hours of sleep he’d feel better. With that thought, he rolled out and just managed to get a shower before the comm unit started buzzing. He groaned, knowing who it was before he touched the receive switch.
“Ensign Gray! You have been on board for several hours now, and you STILL haven’t reported to me!” The whining, nasal voice of Second Leftenant
Warwick grated on his frazzled nerves.
“No, sir, I was a little busy with Naval Intelligence until the early hours of this morning…” He started to say, until Warwick cut him off.
“Don’t be funny with me, or take that tone of voice with me, Ensign!” Second Leftenant Warwick’s voice increase to a higher pitch. He had a tendency to whine when he spoke.
He was younger than Mike, and graduated in the class after his, but his family's patronage insured he’d get a Second Lieutenancy almost immediately. Unlike Mike, and many others, without the proper connections in the right places.
“Report to me on the double, Ensign Gray, and I mean on the double, Mister!” With that, he snapped the comm unit off before Mike could say a word.
Shaking his head Mike rubbed his hair dry as he punched up and checked Part 1 and Part 2 Standing Orders. Part One orders gave the general assignment for the week, and Part 2 orders gave those for the day. They also listed additional information such things as promotions, pay increases, and special assignments. Mike scanned down the page.
“Well, I’ll be dammed.” He muttered in surprise.
A broad smile threatened to split his face in half, and nodded to himself as he finished drying off and brushing his hair. After that, he felt much better and started whistling as he dressed and sauntered down to the Officers Mess for breakfast. He deliberately switched his personal comm unit off, a shy smile on his tanned face. He enjoyed his meal in relative peace, as by this time of the morning, only a few later duty personal entered the mess. A few of the senior officers pointedly looked at the ship’s clock on the bulkhead, eyeing him with displeasure. A few wondered privately why a junior officer was in the mess at all at this hour of the morning. By this time, all junior officers should have eaten and be at their duty stations. Some of them didn’t bother to hide their feelings, or soften their tone of voice, but Mike ignored them all, refusing to be intimidated. Once he’d eaten, he strolled down to the ship’s tailor and poked his head into his cubbyhole.
“Anyone home?” He called, seeing the rack of uniforms on each side.
“Yes, sir, how can I help you?” A muffled voice from the back answered.
“Oh, nothing much, Snips.” The man’s face lit up with a smile as he came from between the racks of uniforms to the half door. It wasn’t often that officers referred to him by his nickname, and few could with impurity.
“Good to see you, Ensign, oh, I mean Second Leftenant Gray.” Snips patted his ample tummy, a smile wreathing his rotund face.
“So, you saw it.”
“I make it my duty to notice such things, and I know what you want.”
“And that is?”
“Hold on.” Smiling, he went back into his workshop, and a few moments later came back with a white tunic and held it out. “I think this is what you are looking for.” He said, holding up the uniform with the Second Leftenant bar on the shoulder.
“Yes, Indeed.” Mike couldn’t help grinning like a schoolboy.
“We wouldn’t want you walking about the ship improperly dressed, now would we, sir.”
“Good heavens no, someone might mistake me for a lowly Ensign, or some other lower life form.” They both laughed while Mike stripped off his tunic and re-dress in the new one. It was only a working uniform, but he felt ten feet tall as he walked down the passageway to Leftenant Warwick’s office.
“Gray, get in here and explain to me why it’s taken you over two hours to report to me,” He demanded in a way of greeting. “And why you have deliberately refused my calls?” His slightly girlish face turned a darker shade of pink. In answer, Mike walked in and closed the door, then sat down in a convenient chair. Warwick went purple and looked as if he was about to blow a gasket.
“What… what do you think you are doing… stand to attention and report!!” He spluttered.
“I don’t think so, Wilfred, I don’t feel like it today.” Mike knew Warwick hated people addressing him by his first name, preferring to use his second, Charles.
“You don’t feel like it...” Warwick flopped down in his seat, a nasty grin on his face. “Then I’ve got you Gray, your butt is mine, and as of this moment, consider yourself on report and confined to quarters.”
“On what charges?” Mike asked in a lazy voice, enjoying himself.
“Dereliction of duty, insubordination, conduct unbecoming, conduct contrary to the good order of military discipline, etc. etc. I’ll think up at few more charged before I officially file them.” He spluttered, gloating over his victory.
“I don’t think so, Second Leftenant Warwick!” That should have clued the man, but he was so far gone in his dislike of Gray that he failed to take note.
“Disobeying a direct order is a serious offense Gray.”
“That's right, Wilfred, it is, and so is failure to read Part 1 and Part 2 standing orders.”
“What, what do you mean?” A puzzled expression crossed Warwick’s pasty face. Mike felt the need for payback and using the Warwick’s last name without his rank goaded him on.
“And how dare you use my name without my rank!” Mike would have liked to prolong the game, but tired of it quickly, and standing, he slowly leaned over Warwick’s desk.
“What it means is, you miserable twit, is that you are a brainless, half witted moron, who delight in abusing anyone of less rank than yourself.” By now, his nose was only four inches from Warwick’s face, and getting closer.
“You take childish, malicious pleasure in tormenting those that don’t have the power or position to tell you to go stick it where the sun doesn’t shine!”
“WHAT!” Warwick spluttered, turning a darker shade of red.
“For the past six months you've singled me out of sixteen other Ensigns aboard this ship for your particular brand of abuse.”
“That’s what I’m supposed to do, train the Ensigns...”
“Train them!” Mike barked, “you couldn’t train a goldfish to swim in a circle! Training doesn’t mean giving them every dirty job you can think up and harassing them day and night. Yet in all that time, I have completed every assignment you’ve given me and not made a word of protest, but those days are over Mister!”
“Oh, and how do you figure that,” he gulped, “are you resigning your commission?”
“No, I’d never give you that satisfaction.”
“Then you are in deep trouble, and I suspect your only way out is to resign, or face a Court Marshal.”
By now their noses were almost touching, even thought Warwick had pulled back in his chair as far as he could. The man standing in front of him was not the same nervous, long-suffering Ensign, who’d left on the mission. He found it difficult to meet those piecing arctic green eyes, and he looked elsewhere. That’s when he saw the Leftenant’s bars on Mike’s shoulders. For a moment, he tried to brush them away, thinking that Gray must have stolen them or put someone else’s uniform on by mistake. Then his remark about not reading Part 1 and Part 1 standing order came home.
“You... you got a promotion!”
“That’s right, Wilfred, I did. We are the same rank and I don’t have to put up with your mindless drivel and bullshit any longer.”
“I am still your senior.” He blubbered desperately.
“No you're not, you graduated a year after me, and only got your rank because of your parents, and we both know it.” Mike stood and turning on his heels, walked to the door.
“I will be watching you from now on, and if I see you abusing any junior officers, you and I will be meeting in the gym.”
“You can’t do that!” He spluttered, knowing that meant Mike would beat the shit out of him.
“Yes, I can, and put it down as an accident, and you know it.” He knew Mike was right.
Many a difference between officers were settled that way, and as long as there was no permanent damage, or serious injuries, the senior officers turned a blind eye. With that, Mike turned and walked out of the office before he did something he regret
. With no duty assignment for once, Mike headed back to his quarter, but even that would change soon. As only a Second Leftenant he still had to share a cabin with another officer, but that would be a step up, and not have to listen to six people snoring in concert every time he went to bed. Two messages waited for him on his arrived, one informing him of the new quarter assignment, the other for him to report to the Captain when he was able. That was different from the usual ‘On the double’ he was use to. Checking his uniform in the full-length bulkhead mirror, he made his way to the Captain’s day cabin. This time, the Marine guard came to attention as he walked up, and one reached over and opened the door for him.