Alexis drove Belial and her crew just as mercilessly to fire on the approaching Hanoverese troops and force them back from the New London columns.
Boats streamed down from the waiting ships and returned full of whatever mixture of troops, New London’s and French, were ready to board. Any plan for order in the evacuation was abandoned.
Artley, back aboard Belial, was at the signals console continuously throughout, ordering the captains of the civilian ships about as though he were a senior post captain himself and their obedience was nothing but his due.
“Captain Gardy, you’ll load when Belial orders it and not a moment sooner, sir,” Artley said calmly into his microphone. “No, sir, I understand your concern, but your ship is a faster sailer and we’re loading the slowest first so they can be off.” He paused and sighed, turning from the console. “Sir? Captain Gardy of Randall's Wand wishes a word.”
Alexis glanced over from her place at the navigation plot to find Artley looking to her. His face showed the fatigue she felt, with dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes. The actual loading of boats had gone on for well over twenty hours now and both she and Artley had been on the quarterdeck throughout.
This Gardy wasn’t the first captain to give him trouble over the order of loading, nor the first to demand to speak to Artley’s superior. She moved to the signals console where she’d be visible in Artley’s pick up.
“Mister Artley has full command of the loading order, Captain Gardy,” she said, not bothering to hear what Gardy had to say. “Send down your boats when he orders or break orbit and leave Giron empty. It’s entirely your choice, sir.”
She turned her back and walked back to the navigation plot. She could understand Gardy’s worry, with the Hanoverese fleet growing ever nearer and no guarantee that Admiral Chipley’s fleet could bring them to action. She’d expected, in fact, some of the little ships to flee, but none had — and neither would Gardy’s, she suspected. The mettle that would drive a man to sail so far for others might be tested by the approaching enemy, but she doubted it would break.
“No, sir,” she heard Artley say, “that’s Captain Carew.” She was called captain as a courtesy by virtue of commanding Belial and they’d decided that was how she should be named to the civilian captains. “She’s the senior Naval officer in-system, sir … I suppose you could go in search of Admiral Chipley, if you like.” There was a long pause. “Thank you, sir. I’ll see that it’s your turn to load as soon as possible, I assure you.”
Artley sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. Alexis returned to his side and rested a hand on his shoulder.
“Do you need a rest, Sterlyn?” she asked.
Artley shook himself and sat up.
“No, sir, we’re nearly done — only a few hours more.” He took a deep breath and scanned his console, lists of ships ordered by their sailing speed and capacity. “Azure Rose,” he said, keying his console, “proceed to L5 and transition. Sewall’s Folly, release your boats for the southwest section of the landing field — blue lights mark it.”
Chapter 53
The makeshift landing field was a scene of utter chaos. Boats streamed down out of the sky, landing in any open space as soon as another had lifted, despite any instructions they’d been given. Beside the field, clumps of soldiers were lined up, waiting to embark. Others lined the edges of the field, facing the milling crowds of civilians. Far in the distance there was the occasional sound of an explosion. The last of the little ships were loading and there’d been no word from Malicoat about getting him and his staff off of Giron. Alexis assumed he’d wish to travel on Belial, as it was the only Naval vessel in-system. Another frigate had appeared and left again, simply passing along the message that the two fleets were only hours away.
Alexis paused at the foot of her boat’s steps and took in the scene.
“Dobb, leave two men with the pilot and have them keep the boat well-closed until we return. I don’t like the look of that crowd.”
“Aye, sir.”
“And open the arms locker — stunsticks and batons for the lads, if you please.”
Alexis waited while he complied and returned with the armed men. He handed her a holstered flechette pistol and belt.
“Thought you’d like some’at yerself, sir.”
“Thank you, Dobb, yes.” Another boat landed and a column of soldiers started for it. Shouts and calls rose from the crowd of civilians. “No, I don’t like the look of this at all.”
They made their way to the edge of the field and through the encampment to General Malicoat’s headquarters, a larger, temporary building amidst the camp.
“I’m here to see General Malicoat if he has a moment,” she said to the guard out front. Or even if he hasn’t.
“Que?”
“Malicoat,” Alexis said again. “Le général, s'il vous plaît?”
“Oui. Attendez un moment.”
The guard nodded and motioned for them to wait while he stepped inside.
“Dobb?” Alexis asked. “Do you find it at all odd that the guard speaks French, yet wears a New London uniform?”
Dobb shrugged. “Out o’ their own, y’think, sir?”
Alexis frowned. “Come to that, I’ve seen not a single French uniform since we landed.”
A moment later the guard returned and gestured for them to enter. They followed him through the building which, if it were possible, was a scene of more chaos than the field itself. Men and women rushed about, calling to each other in French yet all wearing New London uniforms, apparently bent on destroying every bit of equipment in the place.
The exception to this was Malicoat, an island of relative calm, seated at a desk and applying his thumb to a tablet over and over again. He looked up as they approached.
“Ah, Carew. What can I do for you?”
“Sir, I’ve sent several messages regarding the evacuation of you and your staff. There are only a dozen or so ships left loading, the fleets are only hours away, and once the last of the soldiers at the landing field board I fear you’ll not be able to make your way through the civilian crowds.”
Malicoat applied his thumb to his tablet again. “Yes, that.” He sighed. “I’m afraid I owe you an apology for not replying to your earlier messages. Wanting to put off a difficult conversation, you see?”
“Sir?”
“I’m sorry to put you in this position, Carew, I truly am. You’ve shown yourself a good officer and I hate to be the cause of your experiencing your admiral’s displeasure, but I’m afraid you’ll have to tell Chipley that you’ve gone and lost me.”
“Sir?” She realized she was repeating herself, but the man had thoroughly confused her. What did he mean to be lost when he was sitting right there?
“My staff, most of them, have already gone aboard other ships, but I’m not leaving, Carew. Be staying here. You should run along now.”
Alexis blinked. Was the man insane? Spacers often claimed that those in the army were bloody lunatics, and she’d seen much on Giron to support that thought, but Malicoat seemed perfectly serious.
“Sir, the Hanoverese are closing. They’ll overrun this position within an hour of the last boat lifting. You have to leave now.”
Malicoat applied his thumb to his tablet once more, then set it aside. “Look here, Carew, I’ll explain as quickly as I can, but I have a great deal to do and you have a short time to get back to your ship.”
“Sir, I —”
“Just listen so that you can explain to Chipley and the others that you saw I’m set in my decision and there was nothing you could do. Those ships up there are a marvel. A bloody miracle that we’d no cause to hope for, but we’re still having to leave behind half the French troops raised on this world. There’s space for New London’s forces and an equal number of French, then we’re filling in the corners with civilians as best we can.
“Bonnin and I have sent as many of the remaining French troops as we could to melt away back to their homes, but the
rest are our rear guard for this evacuation. Most of them come from towns that don’t exist any more thanks to the Hanoverese, and they don’t plan to survive the day.”
He rubbed his eyes and looked at her, and Alexis saw just how tired he was. More so than she herself was or even her crew.
“Those lads deserve better than that and I intend to be here to give the orders that ensure they don’t throw their lives away. Once the last boat is away, there’s no reason for the fighting to go on, nor for any of these lads to die needlessly. Oh, there’ll be reprisals from the Hanoverese, but I have something of a plan for that, as well.” He gestured toward his tablet. “I talked it over with Bonnin and we’ve agreed he can’t do it. The Republic’s not yet officially at war with Hanover, so far as we know, only New London is, so his staying would only make things worse. As of this morning, the local lads have enlisted in a new regiment. The 11th Penduli Foot, to be clear. I’m just finalizing their enlistment records here myself.” He took a deep breath. “It’s a shallow ruse, the Hanoverese will see right through it — not least because there’s not a one of the new lads who can speak a bloody word of the Queen’s English.”
“Sir, is this at all wise?”
“Nothing about this expedition was wise, Carew. It was half-done and on the cheap from the start.” He pointed at the men and women rushing about the headquarters. “And it may make no difference — they may still shoot the lot as traitors — but whatever the Hanoverese do to these men, it’ll be done to New London soldiers and witnessed by a New London officer — and New London will bloody well hold them accountable for it. There’ll be nothing swept under the rug here if I have anything to say about it.”
Malicoat rose and offered her his hand. “Go back to your ship, Carew. Get that fleet of bloody miracles you managed back to New London safely with my lads.” He smiled sadly. “I shall sleep better here with the thought they might be coming back for me some day.”
Chapter 54
Alexis left the headquarters building and gathered up Dobb and the others.
“Back to the boat, Mister Dobb.”
“Without the general?”
She started for the landing field.
“General Malicoat will be staying to look after his men.”
Alexis looked around, the implications of what she saw being driven home. This really was the last bit of time they had and there were still so many who hadn’t made it aboard the ships. She knew the bulk of the army had been loaded aboard and the camp, except near the headquarters and landing field, was virtually deserted, a shadow of its former bustle, but there were still so many.
Not to mention the civilians who’d come along with the army. The Hanoverese had destroyed whole towns they’d suspected of collaborating with the New London forces. What would they do to those found in the camp itself?
That thought brought Marie and Ferrau to mind — what would become of them?
Damn me, but Belial’s my ship until they take her from me. Captains have taken guests on a voyage any number of times.
She considered. No, she suspected things would not go well here for Marie — a single girl from a rebellious planet. The Hanoverese wouldn’t look favorably on her and who knew what they’d do if they suspected Ferrau’s father was a New London officer?
“Mister Dobb, detail half the men to return to the boat and make ready. You and the other half with me.”
They made their way across the camp to where Marie was housed, but she wasn’t at her tent. No one was, and the tents nearby were empty as well. It seemed as though every part of the camp was deserted, save the landing field. Occasionally a messenger drove by, but that was all. Once, as they trooped through the ghost town of the living tents, they did come across a man. He was midway through ransacking a tent, stripping off a French uniform and pulling on whatever bits of clothing he found that would fit him.
As Alexis and her troop of spacers came into view, the man froze.
Dobb made to move toward him, but Alexis grabbed his arm.
“No.”
“He’s looting and deserting, sir.”
Alexis stared at the man, still frozen with one boot off. His uniform jacket and shirt lay on the ground and he’d pulled on a rough workman’s shirt, but not yet changed his uniform trousers.
“He’s making his way as best he can with what’s to come. Leave him,” Alexis said, making a point of turning and walking on the far side of the rough lane between the tents. “He’s afraid and he’s reason to be. Malicoat’s ruse isn’t even worthy of the name. If he thinks he can make his way better amongst the civilians, then so be it. As for looting —” She looked around. “— I suspect anything of real value is close to hand with those at the landing fields.”
They walked back to the fields where there were barely half the boats there’d been when they’d left and no more landing. The soldiers were nearly done loading and some civilians were being allowed aboard.
Alexis checked her tablet for the time and found that there was not much left of the deadline Malicoat had advised. She led her men to the back of the crowd, but didn’t see how she’d be able to find Marie in the mass of people, even assuming she was there at all.
“We’ll make our way around to our boat and hope for a miracle,” she said.
Dobb nodded and they started walking. Dobb and the men scanned the crowd, hopping up from time to time for a better view.
“Marie!” Alexis called into the crowd as they walked. “Marie Autin!” From time to time someone in the crowd would turn and meet her eyes and she’d add, “Aidez-moi! I’m looking for — bloody hell, find? Trouber? Trouver, Marie Autin!”
Most turned away, but some would cup their hands to their mouths and add their shouts to hers.
Their boat drew closer and closer, and Alexis had begun to despair of finding the two, when one of the old men repeating her shouts stopped and cocked his head.
“Que?” Alexis heard, then, “Marie Autin? Ici!”
The man made a come here gesture further into the crowd, then turned and waved at Alexis.
“Dobb —” But the master’s mate was already moving, forming the point of Alexis’ men as the spacers waded into the crowd, jostling and parting it with elbows and knees until Alexis saw them turn and come back.
When they returned, Marie and Ferrau at their center, Alexis wrapped her arms around the girl.
“Mademoiselle Alexis?”
Alexis pushed her away and held her at arms length.
“Do you wish to try and get away, Marie?” she asked, slowly so that there’d be no misunderstanding. “You and Ferrau? Away from Giron?”
“Oui! It is why we come here — they say some will be allowed.” Marie said immediately.
“Come on, then. Dobb, keep the men around her and Ferrau — this crowd is getting more restless.”
“Aye sir.”
They made their way a bit away from the landing field, back amongst the tents again, to move along without drawing attention to themselves. The crowd was twenty bodies deep ahead of them as they approached the field near Belial’s boat.
Alexis moved into the center of the group of spacers with Marie and followed Dobb through the crowd, he and her spacers pushing and shoving their way forward. She clenched Marie’s hand tightly in her own and looked back frequently to see that Marie had a firm hold on Ferrau. There were fewer than a dozen boats on the field now and the only soldiers still on the field were those watching the crowds. She assumed they were part of the rear guard who’d be staying behind. Streams of civilians made their way from the crowd to the boats, and Alexis wondered how those who’d leave had finally been chosen.
They were jostled and shoved as they made their way. Struck by elbows, nearly tripped, and all but deafened by the shouts and cries from those around them.
They reached the edge of the crowd, which Alexis saw was far nearer Belial’s boat than when she left. The soldiers there recognized New London spacers and pushed the crowd asid
e to let them through. Alexis followed Dobb past the line, but the soldiers tried to stop Marie.
“Non!” Alexis spun around and grabbed the man’s arm. She pulled Marie around her, placing herself between the girl and the soldier. “She’s coming with me!”
The soldier — a captain by his insignia, which was on a New London uniform, so might not have reflected the man’s actual rank — reached for Marie again. He spoke, but so rapidly that Alexis couldn’t understand, something about lists and not being able to control the crowd, but there were shouts from the crowd, perhaps some of them sensing that someone was getting aboard a ship while they weren’t, and the captain turned back to try and close the gap. The crowd pushed forward and the soldiers had to fall back, bumping into Alexis and Marie.
“Hell —” Alexis turned, spun Marie around and shoved her toward the boat, following after.
Halfway there they passed Dobb, who’d stopped and doubled back when he saw they weren’t close behind.
“C’mon, sir! I don’t like the looks of this.”
“No,” Alexis said. She slowed. Marie had reached the stairs and was safely onboard. She slowed more, stopped, then turned to look at the crowd. Dobb pulled at her arm. Malicoat wasn’t coming, his staff was already aboard another ship, and Belial had room — not much, but some. “No, I don’t like the looks of it either, Mister Dobb.”
She ran her eyes over the crowd, not seeing it as the frightening, faceless mass they’d just fought their way through, but as individuals, no different or less worthy than Marie. She turned back to Dobb.
“Mister Dobb …”
Alexis saw that Dobb wasn’t looking at her. He was staring past her at the crowd, eyes wide and glistening. He turned to her, blinking.
“No more’n thirty, sir,” he said. “Not and have air and water enough for the trip.”
Alexis nodded. “Get aboard and have all the lads at the entry port. Tell Phibbs to lift the moment my foot’s on the bloody steps, you understand?”
The Little Ships (Alexis Carew Book 3) Page 30
