by Michael Aye
“Not as good as I should be,” Gabe replied, his mind suddenly on his mother and her church in Portsmouth. “But I will seek to improve that standing immediately, doctor.”
“Good,” Cornish replied.
***
At Charlottesville, the admiral was taken to a room at Government House, where he was given a tumbler full of brandy. As the alcohol took effect, he was strapped down and the broken bone in his upper arm was set. Thankfully, he passed out as Cornish applied traction to pull the bones in place. The leather thong holding the arm was held by a strong seaman while the wound where the bone had broken through the skin was cleansed and sutured up. Barrel staves were then fixed around the arm to immobilize it, with the staves held in place by leather straps. The splinters were then removed, wounds were cleansed, and a few drains were inserted to allow suppuration of any contagion.
“I wish we had opium or laudanum,” Cornish had said once the surgery was finished. “It would help the admiral rest.”
“Hemp would also help,” Gabe volunteered, recalling how Bart had been treated when he’d suffered from his appendix and hemp was used before the surgery.
“Something we must discuss,” Cornish said, upon hearing Gabe’s comments. “But first let’s do what we can to make the admiral comfortable.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The afternoon sun blazed down on the ships at anchor in Charlottesville. Gulls seemed to float on the air, then they would suddenly dive down into the Caribbean waters as some small fish or scrap of food that had been thrown over the side of a ship drew their attention. There was very little breeze, and Lieutenant Hawks wondered for the hundredth time if putting up the wind sails had been worth the effort. The trees on shore looked as still as the limp flag hanging from the fort.
In the great cabin, Captain Anthony was talking with the first lieutenant. The skylight was open, but when Hawks ambled over toward it the master caught his eye with a look that said, “Your duties are more forward.”
Seeing the prizes, the Bulldog and the Raven, off to starboard, Hawks thought either would be a fine ship for some lucky devil’s first command. That was exactly the topic of conversation in the great cabin. Sipping from a fresh glass of lime juice, Gabe looked at Donald Campbell.
“Don, I’ve decided to send the prizes back to Barbados. They will carry the admiral back with them. By all rights, you should be given the choice of commanding one of the two,” Gabe said looking his first lieutenant in the eye. “But,” Gabe sighed then continued, “I can’t spare you. You are the next senior and should something happen to me it would fall on your shoulders to command the ship.”
“Have you decided who to give the ships to?” Campbell spoke with no hint of bitterness in his voice.
“I have a name,” Gabe replied. “But I wanted to know your thoughts first.”
“Wiley,” Campbell said without hesitation. “The Raven had been Lieutenant Bond’s ship, so I’d put him in temporary command. But Bulldog I’d send back with Wiley.”
“Your thoughts and mine are as one about Bulldog,” Gabe said. “But I’ve another to talk to about Raven.”
A smile lit up Campbell’s face. “He’ll never take it, sir, if it means leaving you.”
“You may well be right,” Gabe said. “Although it’s an offer that has to be made.”
“I’ll tell Bond to get his chest together,” Campbell said.
“That sure are you, Don?”
“Never been more sure of anything, sir.”
“Sail ho!”
Rising, Campbell said, “Probably one of your patrols returning.”
Gabe had taken a page from Lord Anthony’s book and had been sending patrols out, a pair of ships at a time. Venus and Thorn should be returning about now; then Brilliant and Fortune would go out.
“Is the surgeon going with the Admiral?” Campbell asked.
“No, we are going to send Wright. Cornish has full trust in the man and says while he’s a surgeon’s mate, he has more knowledge than most of the surgeons he’s met.”
“I see,” Campbell replied. “Should I send Hex down, sir?”
“Aye,” Gabe replied.
***
A knock and then the thud as the musket butt pounded against the deck. The marine sentry called, “Midshipman of the watch, sir.”
“Very well,” Gabe said.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Caed?” Gabe asked as the boy stared at the pitcher and glasses on the table.
Seeing the direction of the boy’s eyes, Gabe spoke to his cox’n, “Do you think the first lieutenant would think it amiss if a glass was offered to our young gentleman?”
Hex appeared deep in thought for a second and then answered, “Not if he thought it was to quench the young man’s thirst so he could repeat the message he was sent to deliver.”
Young Caed turned red and then blurted out, “It’s not our patrol returning, sir. The first lieutenant said it was Captain Jepson in Revenant.”
“Well, damme,” Gabe exclaimed. “Hand the boy a glass, Jake.”
The middy downed the glass of lime juice in a single gulp. “Thank you, Captain,” Caed said as he fled from the cabin with a grin on his face.
“Likely bend everyone’s ears in his mess tonight, telling them how he’d shared a wet with the captain today while on watch,” Jake said.
Dagan was on the taffrail smoking his pipe when Gabe came on deck. “Guess Jep is bringing Lord Skalla for a visit,” Dagan volunteered.
“Did you see him?” Gabe asked.
Dagan shook his head no as he tapped his pipe in the palm of his hand and let the ash fall down into the water. Straightening up, he said, “Be more comfortable if Jep took the admiral back. That way you could keep one of the prizes, was you a mind to.”
Gabe nodded but didn’t say anything. Then taking his glass from under his arm he peered at the approaching ship then said, “I don’t see Lord Skalla.”
“He’s there.”
“You sure?” When Gabe didn’t hear a reply, he looked to Dagan and asked again, “You sure?”
This time he caught Dagan’s look, which said, “He’s there.”
Walking over to Campbell, Gabe said, “Signal ‘captain repair on board’ and be ready to receive our foreign office friend.”
“Lord Skalla?” Campbell asked. Gabe nodded. Campbell took his glass and peered at the approaching ship and said, “You sure, Captain?”
Seeing the look, Campbell said, “Aye, sir. You are sure. Mr. Hawks.”
“Aye.”
“Prepare to receive Captain Jepson and Lord Skalla.”
Gabe had just gotten back to the great cabin when the sound of the cannons firing the salute echoed across the water.
***
Lord Skalla, Jepson, and Dagan sat in Trident’s cabin, each with two fingers of bourbon in a glass.
“Drink it quick before the cox’n comes down,” Dagan joked. “Otherwise, Hex will feel left out.”
Jep roared with laughter and Lord Skalla smiled his broad smile. Gabe had already told the two about the cutting out of the Bulldog and Raven.
“Most would say it’s a small price for the two ships,” Jepson said. “Of course, we know how you feel about the admiral. I will pay him a visit if the doctor will allow it,” he quickly added.
“He will appreciate that,” Gabe responded.
“And I as well, as soon as I’ve met with the governor general,” added Lord Skalla.
“Is the doctor sure he can make the trip back to Barbados?” Jepson asked, realizing the responsibility he would be undertaking in transporting a wounded admiral.
“Dr. Cornish believes it may take upwards a year before the admiral is ready to return to duty. He feels he will be better off on Barbados where there’s a better hospital and doctors able to care for him than here.”
“And Livi,” Jep threw out.
This time Gabe smiled. “Aye, the widow, Livi. The doctor is also concerned about the fevers and
ill humours on this island,” Gabe added.
“And the French,” Lord Skalla said.
“The French!” Gabe exclaimed.
“Aye,” Skalla responded, using his learned naval lingo. “We didn’t expect to find you here. We came to warn the governor about the probability the island would be attacked.”
“Then you think the squadron should stay here?” Gabe asked.
“No, the squadron’s mission has not changed. You will proceed as acting commodore.”
Gabe sat as if in a trance. “I thought they’d send another admiral or senior captain to take the squadron,” he admitted.
“There is no one else, nor the time to get anyone else,” Skalla said as he stood and stretched. “Admiral Buck had every faith in your abilities when he chose you as flag captain, Gabe.” Lord Skalla placed his hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “Nothing has happened that I know of to change that. No, Captain, we will proceed.”
“Does that mean you’re coming with us?” Gabe asked.
“It means I’m sailing with you,” Lord Skalla answered. “Although, I can think of damn little good it will do.”
Gabe was not sure either, but for whatever reason he felt better about proceeding; a damn sight better than at any time since Admiral Buck had been wounded.
“I’d planned on giving Bulldog to Wiley and sending her to Barbados,” Gabe told Jepson. “He understands Gil…Lord Anthony will have to confirm the appointment.” Gabe gave a sigh. “I’m also sending my report back, I will give them to you directly,” Gabe said to Jepson, who nodded.
“I disobeyed orders when I closed with the coast and fired on the privateer,” Gabe volunteered, sounding downtrodden.
“And we are all damn glad you did, Captain Anthony,” Lord Skalla responded. “Not the least, our admiral.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Stepping outside Government house, Gabe noticed a brisk wind that almost took his hat. The marine sentry standing at the door made to grab it, but Gabe recovered it first. Snapping back to attention the marine was surprised when Gabe offered his thanks.
“You’re welcome, zur, but I’d keep a tight ’old on ’er.”
Hex fell in beside his captain as he passed the marine. Gabe noticed the man’s shaggy mane blowing in the breeze. Probably tired of holding his hat on, Gabe thought.
“The admiral ready?” Hex asked.
Thinking of the admiral’s pale, empty eyes and ghastly pallor, Gabe nodded his answer as he recalled his early morning visit with the admiral.
“I was wrong, Gabe,” Buck had whispered. “I should have had Trident or at least Stag standing by. They would have been more than a match for the bloody raiders.”
Trying to salve his admiral’s self incriminations, Gabe answered, “No sir, Admiral, I beg to disagree. Trident’s draught was far too great to work that close inshore, and Stag’s would have been suspect. No sir, the sloops were the only choice and you made it. Fact is, Admiral, the expedition was a total success. We took two ships and holed another. We had no way of knowing the other ship had come in after dark and buoyed as it had. The cutting out party never saw it.”
“You are kind, Gabe.” The admiral winced in pain as he made to adjust the way he was laying. Gabe made to help but was waved away. “Think I’ll ever raise my flag again?” he asked weakly.
“I’ve no doubt we’ll see blue at the mizzen in no time at all,” Gabe reassured his friend.
“I’ll want you as my flag captain,” Buck said.
The door creaked open and Jepson, with his surgeon and two seamen entered Buck’s room. “It’s time to board the ship, sir,” Jepson said.
“Aye,” Buck replied. Turning to Gabe, he said, “Give ’em hell, Gabe, give ’em hell.”
“Aye, Admiral, we will make the bloody bastards pay.” With that, Gabe turned and walked away, pausing only to thank the governor general and his wife for their hospitality and their care for the admiral.
As he walked away, Mrs. Campbell leaned on her husband’s shoulder and whispered, “So young…and so much responsibility. What is this war doing to our young men, Peter?”
Hex had kept silent, realizing Gabe’s mood. As they neared the beach, he spoke, “Ebb tide, sir.”
The captain’s gig was there waiting. Oars were tossed and a seaman was standing at the bow, ready to shove off once the captain was ready. Stepping into the boat, Gabe felt a chill. Was it an omen? Settling down in the stern sheets, he looked at Hex, who took hold of the tiller.
With the briefest of nods from Gabe, Hex called, “Out oars, give way together now, lads.”
It was an easy pull with the wind at their backs. Gabe found himself concentrating on Trident. It was almost like she was a new ship; a new beginning. Was it because the admiral was no longer on board? Gabe could see the ship’s cable was taut as the wind freshened. A glint of copper showed itself as the sun rose and gleamed down on the ocean. Would copper be the answer, he wondered, thinking of his old Merlin. Her hull had been eaten away by shipworms.
Dover, Merlin’s carpenter, had said the teredo worms loved the warm waters and that he’d demand they copper the bottom of ships going to the Indies. Well, I hope it works, Gabe thought.
Looking up to the main deck, Gabe could see the marines making ready for him to come aboard, their scarlet uniforms standing out. The Trident figurehead needed a coating of gold leaf. That would come from his pocket, when time and elements permitted. The commission pendant flew in the early morning breeze.
Gabe’s mind seemed to be a jumble of thoughts. He was thinking of his new relationship with the ship, the squadron, Lord Skalla, the mission, and Faith…Faith and their son.
“Boat ahoy!” the cry brought Gabe’s mind back to focus.
“Trident,” Hex replied in his booming voice. He moved the tiller over and the oarsmen expertly maneuvered the boat toward the entry port. A wave caused the boat to lurch as Gabe stood, but Hex’s steady hand was there.
“Wouldn’t want the sea water to dull your gold lace,” Hex said with a grin.
Gabe couldn’t help but grin back at his cox’n. As the boat neared, Gabe leaped over the gunwale and, grasping the rope, made his way up the battens and through the entry port. The shrilling of the bosun’s pipes and the slap of muskets as the marines presented arms always caused a stir. A chill of sorts ran through him as he came aboard his ship. Would a landsman understand this, would Faith understand this calling of the sea? Could he give it up?
Campbell was there smiling, “Was the admiral in good spirits, sir?”
“As could be hoped for,” Gabe replied.
“We could see him being rowed out. Jepson had his flag raised already.”
“A thoughtful gesture,” Gabe said. “Are we ready to get underway, Mr. Campbell?”
“Aye, sir, waiting on your orders.”
Looking about the ship, Gabe saw the men were already at their stations. “Very well, Lieutenant, signal the squadron. I will change and return on deck.”
“Captain.”
“Yes, Mr. Campbell.”
“We had the rest of your things moved to the great cabin and most of the admiral’s belongings ferried over to Revenant.”
Gabe had started to make his way to his quarters when a thought entered his mind. “Did Chen Lee go as well, Mr. Campbell?”
“Aye, Captain, both he and the admiral’s cox’n.”
Turning, Gabe felt relieved. He’d always heard two cooks in a kitchen were sure to bring trouble. Nesbit would be grateful, but Hex…Hex would miss Crowe. As he stepped over the coaming, Gabe caught a glimpse of Laqua, now acting-Lieutenant Laqua. He should pass the lieutenant’s examination, Gabe thought…I did.
With Wiley and Bond taking Raven and Bulldog back to Barbados, there had been a change in the watch. Holton had moved up as the second lieutenant. Hawks was now the third. Turner was made acting lieutenant and was now fourth, with Laqua being fifth.
“Turner should have already taken the exam,” Campbe
ll had said. “If we could stay in port long enough for a board to be assembled.”
Something that would have to be remedied once they got back to Barbados…if we get back, Gabe thought.
By the time Gabe was back on deck he could see men at the capstan bars. A group of petty officers waited with a group of men below the mainmast. One petty officer was nervously slapping a starter against his leg. Aloft, the masthead pendant was streaming out to sea.
Without thinking, Gabe looked toward the mizzen. The admiral’s flag was gone. Would it ever fly again? Pray God, let it be so. Seeing the first lieutenant, Gabe ordered, “Get the ship underway if you please, Mr. Campbell.”
“Hands aloft,” Campbell ordered and the cry was repeated. “Hands aloft, loose topsail.”
Men swarmed up the rigging and shrouds. Gabe had no doubt the bets had been made as the topmen raced aloft.
Rap…some laggard had felt the business end of some petty officer’s starter. Was it the nervous one?
“Mr. Holton, break out the anchor.”
“Aye, sir.”
Without waiting for the lieutenant to pass the order, Adams’ baritone voice could be heard clear to the quarterdeck. “Man the capstan, man the bars. Heave round, heave you lubbers. Heave, Jackson, no wonder your wife left you for a soldier if you can’t put more into it than that.”
Crack…the bosun’s cane came down, “I see you shirking, Martin, you lazy bilge rat.”
Overhead gulls squawked as the men heaved, the sun beating down on sweaty backs. The men kept at it steadily causing a clank, clank, clank, and soon water dripped from the cable onto the deck.
“Anchors have short,” Adams bellowed.
“Loose headsails,” Campbell ordered.
Above the deck the loosened canvas flapped and tackles banged about in the wind as barefooted men went about bringing things in order.
Adams voice boomed again as he shouted, “Anchors aweigh.”
Trident paid off into the wind, like a dog released from a chain, and charged forward, causing the ship to heel sharply.
