The King`s Coat l-1

by Dewey Lambdin

  To ease the wind aloft, Ariadne carne more southerly to take the wind abeam. Waisters hauled in the braces to larboard. With the third reef came the need for preventer braces and backstays, parcels aloft to keep the yards from swinging and flogging sails, not so much with an eye to sail or yard damage, but to keep the topmen from being flung out and down by a heavy smack by the flying canvas.

  Lewrie left his hat on deck, not wanting it to disappear in the harsh wind. Going aloft had not gotten any easier for him. It still brought his scrotum up to his navel each time. ’Go, lads, go," Captain Bales shouted from below as they passed onto the futtock shrouds. "Crack on, Mister Lewrie, speed 'em on.’

  Fine day to get singled out by the old fart, he thought miserably; now I'll have to be all keen with him watching.

  The wind was a brutal live force aloft, buffeting him and setting his clothing rattling, and the higher he went, the harder it was to breathe as the wind made his cheeks flutter. They assembled in the main crosstrees. Once the yards were braced to satisfaction, and the preventers and parrels rigged, it was time to layout on the yard. The top captain went out to the weather side first, Lewrie following. Rolston went to the lee side after the number two man. The yard had been lowered slightly and was drumming like a pigeon's wing as the top captain prepared to pass the weather earring to the third reef line. ’Haul to weather!" Facing inboard on the yard and footrope, they hauled with all their might to shift the weight of the sail as it was clewed up. Once hauled up, it was Lewrie's "honor" to duck below the yard and pass the earring through the reef cringle to the third man seated astride the yardarm. Once secured, and hugging the spar for dear life, it was the lee arm's turn to perform that dangerous duty. Then it was nail-breaking, herniating exertion to reach forward and haul in the flogging sail, tucking the folds under one's chest, until the third reef was gathered snug.

  Then came another dangerous chore, no less so now that the sail was under control and the reef-tackles had tautened. One had to squat down on the footrope, one arm from the elbow down the only secure hold from a nasty death, and reach under the yard once again, one's shoulder below the yard to grab the dancing reef points and bring them back up so they could be tied off. Lewrie could hear Rolston giving someone absolute hell on the lee yardarm for not seizing his on the first try.

  The first and second top captains surveyed their handiwork and found it good. Below them, other men were still tidying up, taking in the main course. The forecourse would be left at three reefs, since it was a lifting effect on the bows. ’Lay in from the yard!" Thank Christ, Lewrie thought, glad to have survived once more.

  They gathered in the top and began making their way down to the deck. Lewrie took hold of the preventer backstay that was already twanging with the weight of the men who had preceded him and began to descend, after glancing over to sting Rolston with a smug look. He lowered himself away quickly and neatly, hand over hand, smearing his clothing with tar and tallow. Then there was a shrill scream…

  He took a death grip on the preventer backstay and locked his legs about it tighter than a virgin, without a further bit of thought. It definitely saved his life. He glanced up, and the whole world was filled by a dirty blue-and-white-checked shirt and a man's mouth open in a toothy rictus of terror. Horny fingers raked like talons on the sleeve of his jacket, ripping one hand from his grip, and unconsciously he clenched his hand, as though to grab back, though it would have been his own death to have tried. The desperate hand caught on the white turnback cuff of his left sleeve and ripped it loose. Then the man fell past him, and Lewrie watched him with dumb amazement as he performed a lazy spin face-upwards and limbs flailing, to smack spine first onto the inner edge of the starboard gangway. Lewrie could hear the man's spine snap over the harsh, final thump of the impact. And then Gibbs, late maintopman in the starboard watch, dribbled off the edge of the gangway and fell to the upper gun deck like a limp sack of grain.

  His bowels turned to water and his own limbs began to so tremble, he was himself lucky to reach the deck without accident. But he had to satisfy his morbid curiosity, so he made his way forward until he had a good view, after the bosun's mates had shooed away the hands. Captain Bales was standing over the man sadly while the surgeon tried to discover some sign of life. The surgeon stood up to signify that it was hopeless. Gibbs would be commented upon in the log and the ship's books with a very final "DD,’

  ‘Discharged, Dead," washed by the surgeon's mates and sewn up for burial in the morning by the sailmaker and his crew. ’A brave attempt, sir," Bales said to Lewrie, showing the scrap of white cuff he held in his hand. "Sir?" Lewrie asked in shock. Does he actually think I tried to save the poor bastard? Alan gawped to himself. "Hawkes," Bales said to 1he second top captain who had been on the lee yardarm, and who was now weeping openly for his dead friend. " You must keep a better control of your people aloft. I'll not have them skylarking in the rigging.’

  ’Aye, sir," Hawkes said, cutting a black glance at Rolston, who, Lewrie observed, was standing near and eyeing the corpse with a bright fascination, and licking his lips as if in satisfaction. "What happened, Mister Rolston?" Bales demanded. ’Gibbs overbalanced on the footrope, sir, reaching for a stay before he was on the crosstrees," Rolston answered quickly, unable to tear his gaze from the bloody body bent at so unnatural an angle, or unable to face Bales' hard stare. "It was too far to reach.’

  Did he indeed? Lewrie wondered. You had it in for him for back-talking, everybody knows that, had him gagged with a marlinspike half the Day Watch yesterday. Nobody's so stupid as to leap that far for a stay! There's something going on here, and I don't think you're the innocent Bartholomew Baby you appear to be. I could square your yards right-proper with this, if I handle it right. ’Was that what happened, Hawkes?" Bales asked. ’I… I suppose it was, sir." He wanted to say something else, but not knowing how to in front of his betters, he sounded more resigned than anything else.

  Once they were below after evening Quarters, Lewrie searched for a way to begin. Supper was over, the dingy mess cloth removed, and hot rum-punch circulating in lieu of decent port. The surgeon's mates were absent, still preparing the body. Finnegan and Turner were munching on hard cheese and biscuit at the head of the table. The captain's clerk, Brail, was writing a letter. ’Lord, what trash," Keith said softly, wincing at the bite of the rum. "I'd give anything for a run ashore, and a real port for an after-dinner treat.’

  ’At least we'll be able to buy fresh stores at Antigua," Shirke said. "The ship's even running low on well-fed rats to cook.’

  ’Two-a-penny now, not three," Bascombe said, rubbing his eyes in weariness. "It's amazing what an English sailor can eat.’

  ’If he can catch it," Finnegan said boozily. "Now me, I'd admire me a quart of strong ale. Ya can have yer Black Strap n' yer claret n' yer port. Ale's a good… Christian drink." The pause had been to release a spectacular belch. Turner nodded agreeably, making a gobbling noise through a cheekful of cheese. ’And for you, Chapman?" Shirke asked, nudging Bascombe so he could appreciate his wit. Chapman, ponderous and dim, was always good for a laugh. ’Oh." Chapman pondered long, knowing he was being made fun of once more and determined to respond in kind but not quite sure how. "Country beer was always mce back home. Cool stoup on a hot day.’

  ’After bringing in the sheaves," Shirke said with a straight and innocent face. ’I like wine, too," Chapman said, his face flushing with the effort of erudition and repartee. "A mce white now and again. ’

  ‘Miss Taylor, I'll wager," Bascombe said, naming the thin acrid white issued by the purser. ’I'm partial to ale." Chapman's fists clenched. It was dangerous to goad him further, for he was a big and powerful lout who could explode if pushed too far. Lewrie had made that mistake once and had been bashed silly for it, before he learned to recognize the waming signs. ’Did you really murder that topman today, Lewrie?" Shirke asked, turmng to safer game. ’No, but I mcked him with my dirk as he went by," Lewrie said with a grin.
A hand's spectacular death plunge had to be a topic of conversation in so closed a world sooner or later, and Alan was more than ready for it. It would have been remarkable if no one had thought or said a word about it. ’Did he sass you, too?" Bascombe laughed. "Wasn't gagging with a marlinspike good enough?’

  ‘I looked up and there he was, and I distinctly heard him say, 'Bugger all you officer shits,' quickly followed by 'aarrgh splat,' " Lewrie went on, giving a shrill sound by way of punctuation, which had them all hooting and tittering. ’'Ere now, 'ave some respeck fer the dead, young sir," Turner said. "I'll not 'ave it.’

  ’Sorry, Mister Thmer," Lewrie said. trying to sound contrite. "Men die in a King's ship," Finnegan said into the awkward silence. "No need to make fun of 'em a-doin' it. Gibbs was a good hand.’

  ’Indeed he was, Mister Finnegan," Lewrie said. "I never found him a back-taIker or a sea lawyer. Very reliable, very steady.’

  ’Not steady today," Shirke said softly, bringing grins back. "There was danger enough to reef tops'ls before the wind," Keith said, shaking his head sadly. "But he fell when all that was over with, on the way down. What happened to him?’

  ‘Rolston says he jumped from the footrope to the preventer backstay and overbalanced," Lewrie told them. "I heard him say it.’

  ’How cunny-thumbed can you be?" Bascombe said. "How dumb. ‘

  ‘And what do you think?" Brail asked, looking up from his letter and speaking to Lewrie. Brail was close to the captain and the affairs aft, but did not trade on his confidences or what he could learn, so he was most reticent in the mess, never initiating conversation. ’Well…" Alan began, thinking: I have to be careful here. I cannot accuse, but will have to plant seeds instead to take Rolston down a peg. He's such a bullying little shit, it'll do everyone a favor to have the captain sit on him with some stiff warning. ’Hawkes didn't look too happy about it. I mean, Rolston was riding Gibbs. That might have upset his judgment," Alan said as calmly as he could, extending his left arm and sleeve, which still sported the torn cuff, as eloquent a sign of his supposed bravery as a ribbon and star of knighthood. ’What do you mean about Hawkes?" Brait asked, putting on his legal face. Brail held himself aloof from the common herd because he had been a lawyer's clerk at one time, and fancied himself as a man who could see his way to the kernel of an argument with the discerning logic of the law. Though any clerk who had to give tops'l payment and take sea service was automatically suspect of being a bit less acute than he thought himself to be. ’Hawkes did agree with Rolston, but I don't think his heart was in it," Lewrie said, pouring himself another measure of grog. ’But you are not suggesting that Rolston actually did anything aloft to make Gibbs fall to his death," Brail pressed. Lewrie knew any scuttlebutt from below decks would reach the captain through Brai!. "God. that would be unthinkable. I totally disavow any notion, Mister Brai!. ’

  ‘Yet Rolston was… riding him, you say.’

  ’Well, shouting at him to get a move on, that sort of thing… ’

  ‘And where were you?’

  ‘On the weather yardarm. Rolston and Gibbs were on the lee. I was next-to-last down from my side, except for Blunt. And then here came Gibbs, screaming down right at me. ’

  ‘So you did not actually see anything," Brail concluded. "No, I did not, and Mister BraiI, the way you're asking these questions, you seem to think there was something… wrong done. Now I told you, I refuse to place blame on anyone. ’

  ‘But it does seem queer that a steady topman like Gibbs would take such a risk," Ashburn put in. "Who was left from the lee side?’

  ‘Oh, Keith, not you too," Alan said. "Well, Gibbs, Rolston, and Hawkes, who would have been at the lee earring and cringle. At least, I think so. I wasn't paying much attention to anything but just getting down to the deck myself once I got to the crosstrees. Now look here, you're pressing me to make some kind of charge against Rolston, and I'm not going to do it. Granted, he's a little swine and I dislike him more than cold boiled mutton, but it has to be an accident, doesn't it? Accidents happen all the time, no matter how careful one is.’

  ’Maybe Gibbs was stung by something Rolston said that took his mind off safety at the wrong moment," Shirke said. "Maybe just being on the same yard together was enough, after the way he had been hazing him. We'll never know.’

  ’I know I'd hate to be on the same yard with Rolston," Bascombe said, expressing everyone's general opinion.

  Brailleft it at that, agreeing to take a bumper with Ashburn, but Lewrie knew that he was still puzzling about it inside, and that his suspicions would get back to the captain. Rolston would be called aft and given a roasting, maybe even caned over a gun for not keeping proper concerns for safety uppermost. It would be a tidy comedown for him in every officer's mind. That would make the little bastard seethe, Lewrie thought, and make him a little less eager to bully and bluster. And his own reputation would shine in comparison, which was the primary goal. Lewrie rolled into his hammock and blankets quite pleased with himself that night, and happily fuzzled by too much hot grog, slept peacefully as Ariadne rocked along in the night.

  Gibbs' funeral was held the next morning after dawn Quarters and deck cleaning. Bales read from the prayer book as the men swayed in even lines, since Ariadne did not carry a clergyman. As the sun rose in strength on what promised to be a bright day of sparkling waves and blue skies, the body was slipped over the side, sewn up in scrap canvas, with a final stitch through the nose to make sure that Gibbs really was a corpse to satisfy the superstition of the hands, rusty round-shot at his feet to speed his passage to the unknown depths below.

  Immediately after the hands were dismissed, ship's routine reasserted itself. Hammocks were piped up from below, and the hands were released for breakfast. Hundreds of bare feet thundered on oak decks as the men took themselves off for a hearty meal. And Captain Bales crooked a finger at Rolston, summoning him aft to his cabins, which sight delighted Lewrie. Breakfast was also delightful, porridge and scraps of saltpork and crumbled biscuit in a salmon-gundy, with "Scotch coffee" and small beer for drink. Lewrie was taking a second helping when Rolston appeared in their mess.

  His face was as white as his coat facings, except for two dots of red on his cheeks. Before anyone could say anything to him, the angry young midshipman leaped for Alan. "I'll see you in hell, you vicious bastard-" He cleared the table, scattering bowls and plates and mugs in a shower of food, then dove at Lewrie as he attempted to rise from his seat on his chest. Lewrie fell to the deck with both of Rolston's hands on his throat and his weight on top of him.

  Damme, I didn't expect him to try to kill me! Lewrie thought in shock as he struggled and flailed to free his throat. There were other hands there in a moment, however, prying Rolston loose and hauling them both to their feet. ’You miserable, lying bastard! You said I killed Gibbs! I'll kill you for it!" Rolston cried, wriggling to break free. ’The hell I did!" Alan shot back. I didn't say it, actually. Just hinted round it, he qualified to himself. "In the privacy of this mess I said it was a shame you were riding him. and that's all! Nobody is going to make me make a false report, not even against you.’

  ’It was an accident," Rolston said. "But it's all over the ship I pushed him or something, and it's your fault. I want you dead! " As he said it, he shoved hard to his left, breaking Bascombe loose from him and dragging free of Keith's grip. Before anyone could restrain him, he drew his dirk and dove at Lewrie with the point held forward. Alan ducked across the compartment as Fmnegan and Turner and the surgeon's mates seized Rolston again, this time disarming him and forcing him to kneel on the deck. ’Stand to attention, the lot of you!" Lieutenant Swift ordered from the doorway. He had the master-at-arms and two ship's corporals with him. He stepped inside, taking in the dirk in Finnegan's fist, Rolston held down and raging, Lewrie looking as pale as a spook, and the mess littered with overturned utensils and bowls. "Now what's all this about? Did I hear you threaten a man's life, Mister Rolston? Explain yourself damned fast, boy.
’

  ’Sir, 1-’

  ‘Did you accuse Rolston of causing Gibbs' death, Mister Lewrie?’

  ‘No, sir, I did not," Alan vowed-with crossed fingers. "Did he give anyone reason to think Rolston did it?" Swift asked the general mess. He was quickly informed that he had not; though the common opinion was against Rolston and his temper, Lewrie had refused to countenance such a thought. "He's a clever liar, sir. Don't believe him!" from Rolston. "Are you going to tell me that this is not your dirk, Rolston? Are you going to deny drawing it and attacking Mister Lewrie?" "I.. ‘.

  "Ashburn, was there a physical attack in these quarters with a weapon?" Swift turned to his trustworthy senior midshipman. ’Aye, sir, there was," Ashburn said reluctantly, knowing he was sealing Rolston's fate. He described the events, gave Lewrie a fair report, and quoted Rolston's avowed purpose of murder. ’Master-at-arms, I shall have Mister Rolston taken aft to the captain at once. Charge of striking a fellow junior warrant and fighting with steel," Swift said, specifying a charge less than murder, or the attempt at it, which would automatically qualify for hanging. ’Mister Swift, sir," Rolston gasped, realizing what was to fall on him. "Please, sir, no. ’

  ‘Now get this place put to rights," Swift said. "This mess looks like a pigsty. I shall expect all of you to be ready to go aft when the captain summons you. ’

  ‘Aye aye, sir," they mumbled in a rough chorus as Swift took the evidence from Finnegan and strode out. "Sufferin' Jesus," Chapman breathed after Swift was safely gone. "That's all for that little boss-cock. ’

  ‘Rolston be damned," Shirke said. "Just look at my breeches.

  Idiot.’

  ’What?" Chapman asked. ’I meant Rolston," Shirke replied quickly, trying to wipe food from his clothing with the tablecloth. "What's going to happen to him?" Lewrie asked. The whole joke had gotten way out of hand. He had not expected Rolston to come for him like that, and was badly shaken. "You notice the first lieutenant didn't say attempted murder, so I doubt they'll scrag him for it," Bascombe said. "I've never seen anything like that.". ’Dis-rating, most-like," Chapman said. "Flog him raw and pack him off home, soon as we get to Antigua. ’