He bowed graciously. “Lord Marsdale, I assume.”
“Aye.” I returned his bow. “And who might I have the honor of addressing?”
“I do not know if it be an honor, my Lord, but I am Thomas Eaton. And these are my fine companions, Mister Harold Scofield and Mister Richard Benton.”
Scofield appeared to be an earnest but happy young man with dark hair and eyes and a boy’s smile. Being shorter then the others, he seemed quite young in comparison. Benton was tall, lanky, and seemingly older by a year or two. He was effete in the extreme, and dressed with exceptional care. Though his clothing was not notably expensive in cloth, it fit quite well, and was nicely coordinated in both color and texture.
“Oh, this is such a small room. However shall we… manage? Where are the beds?” Benton rattled on, and then took me in and beamed. “And I have never had the pleasure of meeting an actual lord before.” I thought he might give me his hand to kiss.
I was once again annoyed with my heritage, or at least with others’ knowledge of it. “We will be sleeping on these hammocks, and I would greatly prefer it if you simply called me Marsdale.”
“You may call me Dickey if it pleases you, my Lord, everyone else does. And they are Tom and Harry.”
Eaton looked a trifle embarrassed. I smiled indulgently. “However you prefer to be called.”
“I am actually used to going by Tom, and he is used to being Harry,” Tom said. “Though it is boyish of us.”
“If that be the case,” I shrugged, “I will not stand on formality. Please refrain from the my Lords and other acknowledgments of my title. I am rather used to going without them.” This seemed to please them.
I moved aside, and let them examine the open hammock and attempt to clamber into it. I initially offered no assistance, and was quite amused by their antics. Finally I decided to relent and offer them advice, and in time they were able to mount their respective hammocks. I made sure I maintained the upper one closest to the door.
We availed ourselves of the built-in bureaus and small shelves, and I warned them away from my weapons bag. When asked what it contained, I was quite forthright about the quantity, if not the quality, of the pieces inside. All three wore swords as any young gentleman would, but only Tom possessed a firearm; and they were quite surprised at the extent of my “arsenal” as Harry dubbed it. I also noted with interest that only Dickey’s sword appeared to have any wear about it. I assumed he had inherited it from someone.
“If I may ask, why are you three gentlemen traveling to Jamaica?” I asked. “And what have you heard of it?”
This caused looks of consternation to pass amongst them, and I waited patiently until they decided who would speak. It was Tom, as I surmised. He was definitely their leader.
“There was a bit of a scandal, my Lo…” He shrugged and continued sheepishly, “I have an uncle in Jamaica, and it was decided that I should travel there along with my companions, who were somewhat involved in the incident in question. It is truly not as if we had great prospects awaiting us here in England. We are not first born. If things do not go well in Jamaica, we plan to return in several years. By then the other matter should have calmed considerably.”
“I understand how scandal can befall a young man quite easily, and I would never presume to sit in judgment of such a thing,” I said. This seemed to relieve them, and yet none of them mentioned the nature of the tale. I was now quite curious as to whether it involved girls or boys. I chose not to pry.
I shrugged. “But as to my second question, what know you of Jamaica?”
“Nothing,” Harry said quickly.
“Does your uncle know you to be coming?” I asked Tom.
He nodded. “A set of posts were exchanged.”
“So this matter has been decided for a good four months?” Since it took forty-five days to reach Jamaica, I thought this was a good estimate of the fastest a letter could be sent and returned.
“Aye,” Dickey said with a wave. “Far longer, actually, as no ships traveled during the storm season or some such thing.”
I suppressed a curse at my foolishness. Here I was playing the expert, and I had forgotten no ships sailed to the West Indies in autumn. Their letter would have gone last summer and the reply received late this fall.
“We spent the months with my aunt until a reply was received,” Dickey continued.
“So you have been in hiding for a time?” I grinned. “One would think perhaps long enough for the scandal to have resolved itself.”
Tom sighed and shrugged. “You have surmised correctly, sir. I seduced a prominent young lady and got her with child. As I had not sufficient prospects, my brother married her.”
I grimaced with sympathy and grinned. “And how were your fine companions involved?”
“She was my cousin, and I am the one who arranged their trysts,” Harry said dejectedly.
“I am their loyal friend, and their families have never liked me anyway. In fact my own was quite delighted to shoo me out the door,” Dickey said with forced cheer.
I truly sympathized with their plight, though I had seen it many times before. I had successfully avoided it myself. It is very easy to play the rogue in a foreign country, and in truth I do not know how many bastards I have sown. I have fought duels over my seductions, but my family was never involved. And, thank the Gods, I have successfully avoided any attempts at forced matrimony. Of course, that has much to do with why I am no longer welcome in several cities.
“Well, look on the bright side,” I said. “At least someone paid your passage, and you were not forced on a boat under contract or sent off to the military or navy.”
“I thank God for that nightly,” Harry said with comical sincerity.
Tom smiled. “As do we all. Though I do not think I would have minded the military or navy so much, as the possibility of a commission existed. One was offered to me, but Dickey and Harry would not have fared as well, and I decided to stand by them.”
“That is quite commendable,” I said. Harry and Dickey appeared embarrassed by his words, but I could tell there was a strong bond amongst the three of them.
“And why are you traveling to Jamaica, sir?” Tom asked.
“My father wishes to start a plantation there. I am going as his agent.”
“And what do you know of Jamaica?” Harry asked.
I grinned. “You may wish to acquire your own arsenals and become proficient in their use. There is no naval or military presence in Jamaica, just militia and the buccaneers.”
“Excuse me, the what?” Harry asked.
“Buccaneers. My father’s associates were not forthcoming on the origin of the name. They are a group of wild men the Jamaican Governor issues Marques of Reprisal to and allows to dock at Port Royal, in order to receive their Spanish plunder. They provide protection of a sort for the colony. They are privateers and harass the Spanish no end. It is my understanding Port Royal is rife with them.”
“Wild men?” Dickey asked.
I grinned. “English, French and Dutch men: purportedly deserters, dissidents, escaped bondsmen and white slaves, former convicts, and all other manner of rabble if the reports are to be believed.”
“And they’re protecting the colony?” Harry asked with alarm.
“Aye.” I wondered what he thought the composition of the English army was, as it differed little from what I had just described.
I had read all I could find on the buccaneers with relish. They were the reason, in part, the Spanish did not drive us off Jamaica. They were truly wild men: though principally English and French, they were a polyglot of a dozen nations, and they called none master. This alarmed a great many in England. Wolves cannot abide another pack of wolves who are not harnessed into the hierarchy in some fashion. Needless to say, everything I heard about the buccaneers and Port Royal only served to intrigue me more.
“You do not appear to be concerned,” Dickey noted.
“Aye, I have spent the last
ten years traveling about Christendom.”
This delighted them, and they pestered me for details of my travels. And thus we partook of the quarterdeck, and whiled away the day spinning tales and watching the goings-on in the port about us.
As the sun sank low, I rowed to shore with Belfry to pick up the day’s recruits and speak with Steins. There were eleven more men waiting outside the office. I was both pleased and dismayed, as I thought that sufficient but doubted anyone else would.
“We appear to be at forty-eight,” I said upon entering. “It is my understanding Captain Starling wishes to tarry here no longer. I am satisfied with our success in the matter of recruitment.”
Steins sighed heavily. “I have never understood how these sailors predict bad weather, though I have learned they are oft correct. My Lord, I would have you wait two more days and employ other methods.”
“But as we must sail,” I added quickly.
He frowned and glanced at Belfry. “Would you leave us for a moment?”
Belfry nodded and left.
Steins lowered his voice. “Lord Marsdale, you may have sufficient men if all survive; but the Captain would like a few more, as any who survive above the number you require will garner him extra profit.”
“I fail to see where that is my concern, and it is my understanding he is the one who wishes to sail anon.”
“My Lord, he has requested I employ other methods and deliver another dozen if possible before you sail on the morning tide.”
“Must I tolerate that? Is there some contractual obligation?”
“Nay, my Lord, more of an unspoken agreement.” Steins shrugged. “However, you may wish for the additional men, if many of the willing ones take ill. You will still have first choice to reach forty. You only have eight to spare now.”
“The devil with Captain Starling’s profit. I know well how much we paid to charter his craft. I will not be party to the other.”
“I thought as much,” he sighed. “My Lord, be aware you will not have befriended the man.”
“What will he do, have the cook spit in my soup?”
Steins recoiled in surprise. “Nay, my Lord. Captain Starling is a civilized man. He regularly plies between here and Jamaica, and it would behoove you to have a friendly Captain at your disposal. It could save you a great deal of money, and provide for much convenience when you need cargo shipped or goods from England.”
“I will take my chances with another if it comes to that,” I said.
“Does your father share your principles, my Lord?”
I liked not the sound of that. I imagined he would be writing my father soon, though thankfully it would not reach him prior to our sailing.
“Nay, merely my stubborn disposition. A man would do well not to cross between us. We have a tendency of maiming messengers.”
He blanched and nodded quickly. “Well then, my Lord, it has been a pleasure.”
“Thank you for all of your fine work on this endeavor.”
We exchanged further pleasantries, and I exited and sent Belfry in. I waited outside with the men who would be in my employ; and vowed I would keep every one of them that survived, just to deny Starling his additional profit and Steins his percentage of it. Thus, more from cantankerousness than kindness, I introduced myself to the eleven waiting men, and assured them we would sail on the morrow and all would be well. Belfry appeared ill-at-ease when he joined me.
I pulled him aside as the bondsmen loaded onto the longboat. “Mister Belfry, have my principles inconvenienced you?”
He removed his hat and fidgeted with his periwig. “Well, my Lord, I am due a percentage of any bonus money we receive on each voyage.”
“And with our only taking forty-eight, it is likely there will be no bonus money.”
“Precisely, my Lord. May I speak frankly, sir?” At my nod, he continued earnestly. “Please understand, I agree in principle with not taking pressed men; they are generally an unruly lot, and far fewer of them survive than those that come willing. And we have trouble enough keeping the sailors on in port.” He sighed. “If it were up to me in this instance, we would remain and recruit another day, and perhaps take on a few more barrels of victuals to address your other concerns. But it is not… up to me, that is. And so I am somewhat disappointed that we will sail with so few. And this is due solely to my getting married upon my return, and my anticipating the bonus money as I truly have not before. I must wrestle with my own greed, my Lord. It is not your concern.”
I did not blame him in the least. “Mister Belfry, say we had ten additional men and they were sold for a common amount in Port Royal. How much would you expect to reap?”
“Ten percent, or about thirty pounds, my Lord.” He flushed a little. “I realize it is not a large sum by your reckoning, but it is near my salary for a year and…”
I held up my hand to stop his justification. “Mister Belfry, I will give you thirty pounds if you will assist me on this voyage in insuring these men are cared for and well-fed with the victuals we have.”
His face was suffused with wonderment, until he gathered his wits and nodded enthusiastically. “Aye, my Lord. I can do that, sir. May I say that you are an exceedingly kind and good man, sir.”
“You may say that. I am not sure if it is truth, but you may say it. But Belfry, do not tell anyone of our arrangement.”
“Of course not, my Lord. The Captain would have me strung up if he knew.”
“Then let us avoid that.” I grinned. I thought it likely my father would have me strung up for giving this man thirty pounds of his money.
That night, I was invited to dine with Captain Starling. He proved to be a tall, gaunt man of middle age, with an intense gaze and great reserve. I guessed he made few friends, as I could not imagine him smiling or enjoying much of anything in life; especially since he moved with the careful precision of a man in pain. I had seen men who looked as he did before; they always died of something within a year or two. This reminded me of my mother, and due to my earlier mood, I felt affliction had been delivered upon a person who deserved it once again.
If Starling was angry at my decision to not take pressed men for his profit, he said nothing of it. He was a proper gentleman, though not very personable; and he asked polite questions of my travels and the like, and I told him polite half-truths. I asked him of Jamaica, and he assured me that though Jamaica was fine indeed, a true jewel upon the sea, Port Royal was a wretched place much as Sodom and Gomorra must have been. He hoped God would wreak some punishment upon it someday, and advised me to stay on my plantation and well clear of it. This was mainly due to the damn buccaneers, who did not know their place amongst good Christian men, and could not be well controlled as they were all armed. I was amused.
My first night on the ship, I could not sleep. On many occasions in my travels, I have cursed being born to a life of such privilege that I never needed share my bed or even my room as a youth. The luxury of private accommodations and closed doors has left me ill-prepared for sleeping amongst others. Snoring keeps me awake; and due to Shane, the nearness of other bodies in the dark makes me quite anxious.
So I lay swaddled in a single blanket against biting cold, which the small brazier in the corner did little to dispel. My hammock swayed with the ship in the gentle waves of the harbor. I found this both lulling and disconcerting, as I was not used to moving about while sleeping, either. I listened to water lapping upon the hull and the breathing of my sleeping companions. Either all three did not snore or one of them slept no better than I this night. After much listening, I determined Dickey was the one who would be as tired as I on the morn. I considered speaking to him, but thought it might wake the others. Eventually I succumbed to exhaustion.
I woke with a start, to noise and movement which differed markedly from the gentle sounds and waves of the night before. I roused myself and found my roommates already absent. I joined them on the quarterdeck to watch our departure. Already the King’s Hope was turn
ed about, and a few of her sails had been raised.
It was cold enough for the rigging to be iced and the sails stiff. The sailors pressed the bondsmen into service: not out of need of the extra hands, but because they could not get around them to hoist the sails, and it was easier to have the men standing where the job needed to be done, do it, than find a way to move them.
We caught a good tailwind once we were out of port, and began to make our way south across the ocean. All ships, regardless of nationality, head south until they reach the northeast trade winds, which will blow a ship west from the coast of Africa to the West Indies. These winds lie between the Tropic of Cancer at thirty degrees North latitude and the Equator. I looked to the Captain’s charts and saw that Bristol lay at almost fifty-one degrees North latitude. We would be sailing south past France, Spain, and the north of Africa. By necessity, we would stay well to sea, to avoid encountering enemy vessels.
Within hours of being under way, I began to feel a little queasy: just as I had in both of my prior seafaring experiences. In short order I excused myself to the cabin. I clambered into the hammock and lay still, hoping the feeling would pass. Harry joined me shortly; and when dinner came, we both confessed our stomachs were too unsettled to eat, and we were feeling very ill. Belfry came round and assured us we had seasickness and would not die. We would just be miserable until it passed. I had known that. I also knew with some men it never passed. The idea that I might feel this way all the way to Jamaica made me consider holding the Captain at gunpoint and forcing him to turn the damn ship around and put me safely ashore.
That night I managed to consume a little bread and water, only to find myself up on deck mere moments later heaving it over the side. I noticed that there was a great deal of this going on, as it seemed fully half the bondsmen found the sea as disagreeable as I. Not wanting to go back to the confines of our small cabin, where Harry had not cleared the room prior to heaving, I slumped on the deck in the clear place I had found to stand. I listened to the moaning and retching, while regarding what little I could see around me in the light of the sparse lanterns and moon.
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