The Little Ships (Alexis Carew Book 3)

by J. A. Sutherland

  In the end, it was only Dansby’s insistence that they had barely enough time to return to The Glaive and dress for supper that had convinced her to leave the shop. She’d settled on only four outfits, varied to be suitable for a wide range of occasions. The most delightful, and expensive, being the dress she wore now.

  The dress was a rich, deep purple, accented in black. Its skirts didn’t billow like the dresses that had been in fashion when she left Dalthus, but instead fell in straight lines that made her, somehow, seem taller. In fact every aspect of the dress seemed to be perfectly designed for her, accentuating those attributes she had and, she had to admit, enhancing those she did not.

  No, I’d never have considered myself to be one to care about such things, but …

  She slid her hands over the skirts again, delighting in the feel of the fabric. She caught Dansby staring at her and flushed.

  The server returned with their drinks, which slid off its surface and onto the table without spilling a drop. Alexis took a small sip of hers, and then another, and made a mental note to remember this one. It was really quite good.

  “Will you be having wine with the meal?” Dansby asked. “Or will you be swilling my guineas the entire evening?”

  “Perhaps I should have a bottle sent to our rooms, uncle? To celebrate our new enterprise?”

  Dansby looked pained and Alexis almost had a moment’s sympathy for the man. She hadn’t looked at the cost of a single thing she’d bought that day, only smiled at Dansby’s look of outrage when presented with the reckoning. On the other hand, he’d once been a pirate and was now a smuggler, and seemed to have done well for himself at both, even leaving aside what Eades had paid him.

  Two servers appeared and slid plates onto the table in front of each of them. Dansby dug into his with gusto.

  “Enjoy the meal, Carew. There’ll be nothing like this once we reach Hanover.”

  “Do you not care for the food, then?” Alexis asked, glad to be hearing even a little about where they’d soon be going.

  “The cakes are wonderful, but they have an unnatural penchant for pork and sausages.” He chewed a mouthful of food thoughtfully. “Should you be offered anything called currywurst, I suggest you refuse. Neither Hanover nor Deuchsterne are able to put on a proper curry … and there are some things that simply shouldn’t be prepared that way. That’s one reason I chose to stay at The Glaive tonight, instead of going directly aboard Marilyn.” He raised another forkful to his lips. “And I plan to see a play after supper, before we head off into the hinterlands. I find Hanover’s entertainments no more to my liking than their curries.”

  “What play is that?” Alexis asked with some interest. She’d rather not go with Dansby, but she’d found she enjoyed live performances, though she’d only been to a few.

  “Henry V. It’s one of the histories.”

  Alexis sat back and pursed her lips. “I realize that you and Mister Eades at least found common cause in ridiculing my colonial origins, Mister Dansby, but I did learn some of New London’s history and I well know we’ve only had three Henry’s in the Monarchy.”

  Dansby stared at her for a moment, unmoving, and Alexis thought she’d put him at a loss for words until he suddenly barked laughter that actually sprayed food onto the table. He laughed more, then started coughing and grasped for his wine.

  Alexis flushed.

  If he falls over and turns blue, I’ll not lift a finger to save him.

  “Oh, dear lord,” Dansby said finally, alternating between drinking and clearing his throat. “That may be …” He coughed violently. “I suggest you learn your classics, Carew. It will give you something to pass the time on our voyage.”

  * * *

  The play, Alexis allowed as she and Dansby left the theatre and made their way through the station’s corridors back to The Glaive, had been quite good, and she was rather pleased with herself for wrangling her way to see it along with Dansby. She hadn’t fully understood it, but it was captivating enough to make her want to. And she understood Dansby’s amusement at her a bit better, now that she’d seen the play was based on a different kingdom than New London.

  She knew little of Earth’s history — what little history she’d studied had more to do with New London than anything before that ruling system was founded — but thought now she might be well-advised to learn more.

  Between histories, strategy texts, and these ‘classics’, I may be studying the rest of my life.

  “I suggest you get a good night’s sleep,” Dansby said as they neared The Glaive. “I expect to be aboard Marilyn and making sail midway through the morning watch, and remember that I’ll have you keep to yourself for most of the voyage. As my ‘niece’ it will be your first journey with us and it’s reasonable you’d simply remain silent and observe.”

  Alexis fought down a sigh. Perhaps one of the most enjoyable things about the play had been that Avrel Dansby had remained silent throughout.

  “Tell me about the ship and crew,” Alexis prompted, hoping to pry a bit of solid information from the man, “and your plan for finding Commodore Balestra’s fleet.”

  “Plan?” Dansby gave her a bemused look. “I have as much plan at this point as Eades does, which is to say none. He’s turned the whole mess over to me with no more plan than ‘go find them’.”

  Once again, Alexis was struck that their only common ground seemed to be a mutual dislike and distrust of Mister Eades. She eyed Dansby.

  I suppose even a snake can recognize something slimier than himself.

  “There’s a system called Baikonur,” Dansby went on, “a bit inside Hanoverese space. No habitable planets, but there’s a mining outpost with a less than thorough bureaucracy. We’ll head there first — someone will have heard of where this Balestra’s fleet has been stationed.”

  Alexis grimaced in distaste. “Some other pirate or smuggler, I presume.”

  “Someone with reason to keep track of the Hanoverese navy’s comings and going, and willing to answer questions while not speaking of what’s been asked.” Dansby shrugged. “This system, Baikonur, does tend to attract an unsavory sort. If it offends your sensibilities, you’re welcome to stay here and tell Eades you refuse to go. I’ve been paid either way.”

  Alexis sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to the idea. And your crew?”

  Dansby shrugged. “They’ll do as they’re told and not ask questions.”

  Chapter 23

  “‘Niece’, my arse, Dansby! What’re you getting us into now?”

  Alexis widened her eyes at the woman’s outburst and took a half step back, placing Dansby firmly at the forefront on his ship’s mess deck and bearing the brunt of the woman’s ire.

  The crew of Dansby’s ship, Marilyn, was the scruffiest, surliest looking group Alexis had ever encountered. Naval crews often had hard men, men taken straight from the gaols and given the choice between the Navy and imprisonment, transport, or even hanging. She was used to that. These, though, were different. Alexis had the sense that these were men who’d done all the things that might warrant imprisonment, transport, or hanging … but had been smart enough to not get caught.

  And women, she thought.

  The crew consisted of twelve men and two women, and any elation Alexis had first felt about being aboard ship with other women for the first time was quickly quashed.

  “Now, Anya,” Dansby said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “There’s nothing more to it than I’ve said already.”

  “Bollocks! Bollocks in a vice!”

  Dansby winced visibly. He’d gathered Marilyn’s crew on the mess deck and introduced Alexis to them as his niece, much removed, who’d had some issues with her family’s shipping company. Issues that made it prudent for her to remove herself far from the systems in which they traded — and which led all concerned to believe she might be better suited for the work Dansby’s side of the family engaged in.

  Alexis tried a tentative smile, but the w
oman glared at her. Anya Mynatt was Marilyn’s first mate, something Alexis had been thrilled to discover until the woman began talking.

  “You promised me I’d have this ship when Tarver left it! Now he isn’t captain any longer, but you’re in his cabin instead of me, and brought this bedwarmer aboard!”

  “Mist … Miss Mynatt!” Alexis objected. She cursed herself for the slip, but wasn’t used to addressing anyone aboard ship except as mister or by rank. The rest of the crew would be addressed simply by last name, as on a Navy ship, and the only other petty officer, a master’s mate named Bowhay, was clearly a ‘mister’ with his bald head and massive beard, but she was at a loss as to what to call a female petty officer on a civilian ship.

  “Shut your gob, you little trollop!”

  Alexis’ temper flared, but Mynatt advanced on Dansby.

  “Anya,” Dansby said again. “I have a special, profitable, run to make that I want to oversee personally. When we’re done, Tarver will still be gone and you’ll have Marilyn, I assure you.”

  Mynatt scowled at him then pointed at Alexis. “And the tart?”

  “My niece,” Dansby insisted.

  Mynatt stared at him for a moment, nostrils flaring. She looked Alexis up and down, then stormed off.

  Dansby sighed. “Will you get us underway, please, Bowhay? I’ll have a course for you once we’re in darkspace.”

  “Aye, sir,” Bowhay said. “Hands t’make way! Be about it lads!”

  Dansby sighed again as the crew dispersed.

  “Do you allow all your employees to speak to you so, uncle?” Alexis asked.

  Dansby grunted and gestured for her to follow him toward Marilyn’s quarterdeck. The ship was a small sloop, which accounted for the size of the crew. Alexis had been more than a bit relieved at seeing how few crew members there were. The small number lent some credence to Dansby’s contention that his ships no longer engaged in piracy, for a pirate would have more men aboard. A bit of smuggling was easier for her to stomach.

  “Anya’s a special case,” Dansby said.

  “Perhaps she’ll have a better opinion of me once it’s seen I know my way about a ship?”

  Dansby snorted. “No, I rather doubt that will be a help at all.” He gestured for her to follow him. “Come along then. There’re two cabins for the occasional passenger — both smaller than Anya’s or Bowhay’s, unless you’d like to speak to her about giving up the first mate’s cabin?”

  “No,” Alexis said. “No, I’ll be quite satisfied with whatever is available.”

  “Fine choice.”

  * * *

  Alexis’ tablet woke her at her usual time aboard ship, just before the start of the morning watch. She dressed quickly and spent a moment looking for her beret before remembering that she would not be wearing the Navy’s customary headgear aboard this ship.

  Then she exited her cabin to find the rest of Marilyn dark and silent, not the bustle of activity she was used to at this hour. Farther down the mess deck she could make out the shadowed shapes of the crew still in their bunks. With a frown, she made her way to the quarterdeck, expecting to find, at least, Dansby up and preparing for the day.

  Instead she found a single spacer drowsing at the helm.

  The man snorted and jerked awake as she entered, looked her over once, and then settled back into his place with half-closed eyes.

  “On your feet!” Alexis barked without consciously deciding to. The man jumped, staring at her with wide eyes. Her jaw was clenched with anger. It was one thing to keep a different watch schedule, which was why she assumed the rest of the crew was still abed, but to be asleep on watch certainly couldn’t be the norm for Dansby’s ships.

  “Bugger off, girl,” the spacer replied, relaxing and closing his eyes again.

  Alexis opened her mouth to yell at the man again, but paused in shock. She’d never been spoken to that way aboard ship, even the first she’d ever served on. It was suddenly driven home to her that Marilyn was not a Navy ship and that the rules could be quite different aboard her.

  “Is it …” She struggled to keep her voice level. “Is it common then, to sleep during one’s watch aboard my uncle’s ships?”

  The spacer sighed. “Captain Tarver didn’t care and Dansby’s not said different.” He grinned broadly. “Likely won’t see that one afore noon, himself, is my guess.” Alexis started to speak again but he cut her off. “Look, you, the helm’s set, we’re not carrying any cargo to worry about being inspected, there’s no pirates near the borders, what with all the warships, and we’re far enough in New London space still that there’ll be no Hannie hunting around for a quick prize.” He pointed at the navigation plot. “There’re no ships in sight and the computer’ll wake me if it suspects one, so … bugger off then.”

  He closed his eyes.

  Alexis blinked. She longed to call for the bosun, but Marilyn had none and no Captain’s Mast to bring the man up on charges either.

  And no Articles to charge him under.

  She looked around the quarterdeck. Aside from there being only a single spacer on watch, and him asleep, Marilyn was not at all well kept. The decks and consoles were grimy, and there were bits of trash in odd places — it looked a great deal like the Hanoverese merchant Trau Wunsch she’d stolen to escape Giron, and that ship had been in such poor condition mechanically that it had been sent to the breakers instead of the Prize Court.

  She left the quarterdeck confused as to how to proceed. One thing was certain, though, she realized. Dansby had not made her position clear to the crew. They might know she was his niece, but not how she fit into the ship’s hierarchy, if at all — something which would have to be corrected immediately.

  Alexis left the quarterdeck and made her way to the master’s cabin where Dansby slept. Abed until noon he might plan to be, but she’d see him out of it and dealing with his responsibilities.

  She rapped on the cabin’s hatch.

  “Dansby? Uncle?”

  She rapped again, harder this time. There was a sound from within but no answer.

  “Uncle Dansby?”

  She grasped the hatch’s handle, intending to rattle it, but the hatch unlocked at her touch and slid smoothly open. Dansby had apparently not been at all particular when he’d given her the same access to the ship that he possessed. The cabin was dark, but Alexis heard another noise. She stepped inside switching on the light.

  “There’s no use hiding from me, uncle. I’ve some things to disc …”

  Marilyn’s master’s cabin was a single space, not the separated day- and sleeping-cabins Alexis was used to aboard larger warships. Dansby was, indeed, abed as the spacer had predicted. Also abed, and astride him, was Anya Mynatt.

  “If you’ve come to join us, girl,” Mynatt said, turning toward the hatch but not bothering to stop her movements, “you should know I’m partial to a bit more in the way of curves on a lass.”

  Alexis flushed. Yes, the rules were apparently quite different aboard this ship. She resisted the urge to bolt from the compartment, not wanting to give Mynatt the satisfaction of seeing her run.

  “Uncle,” she began, but then saw that Dansby wasn’t looking at her. Was, possibly, still quite unaware of her presence at all. She cleared her throat. “Miss Mynatt, would you be so kind as to inform my uncle that I wish to speak to him on the quarterdeck? When he is not otherwise … occupied.”

  Alexis backed out of the cabin without waiting for Mynatt’s response. She slid the hatch closed and leaned forward to rest her forehead against it, then realized what was still going on behind it and leapt back as though the hatch itself were somehow associated. She looked at her hands and started toward the head to wash, feeling suddenly quite dirty.

  Dear heavens, but I already miss the Navy.

  * * *

  Alexis waited for Dansby on the quarterdeck, studying the empty navigation plot and ignoring the amused glances of the now awake helmsman.

  Certainly now he’s decided to rem
ain awake.

  She caught her lower lip between her teeth, forced herself to stop it, then found her hands going to her head to straighten a nonexistent beret. Arms crossed and jaw clenched to keep from further fidgeting, she saw the helmsman openly grinning at her. Not the sort of grin at all that she’d experienced from spacers on Navy ships, no matter how hard the men were, but something else entirely.

  Alexis glanced around the quarterdeck, but they were alone. There was no other officer, no marine sentry, no bosun for her to call on. The helmsman was now running his eyes over her in a way that made her feel decidedly greasy.

  She wondered if she should leave and retrieve Dansby, whether he was quite finished or not, but dismissed the idea quickly. She’d be aboard some time and couldn’t rely on him to always be near. No, she’d have to set some of her footing with the crew herself, and not in the Navy way with a bosun or the marines to back up her authority. Even aboard Hermione the captain wouldn’t have allowed the common spacers to treat her this way; it would have undermined the authority of all his officers.

  She thought about Mynatt, who must have some of this crew’s respect to be first mate and expected to become captain. How had she come to be accepted as a leader among such a crew?

  Certainly not by pretending to be a man.

  Neither Mynatt’s dress nor attitude implied that, and she certainly knew there were no secrets aboard ship, so she must expect to retain the crew’s respect even after they found out about her and Dansby. Alexis suspected no amount of skill in ship handling or other spacer’s skills would turn the trick, either.

  The helmsman caught her eye again and leered. The look made Alexis shudder and want to leave the compartment, which, she realized, would be exactly the wrong thing to do. More so even than the hardest men aboard a Navy ship, Dansby’s crew acted by a different set of rules than most. They preyed on others, one step above piracy and who knew what they went about on their own in ports, and would judge others to be predators as well, or simply prey.