The Queen's Pardon (Alexis Carew Book 6)

by J. A. Sutherland

  Alexis pondered that possibility for a time, worrying at the train of thought until it unraveled for her. She’d noted before that she never felt so alive as when pitting her ship and crew against some foe. Just the thought of having a ship around her again, with shot flashing from the sides and her breath rasping in a vacsuit helmet, made her heart race and her lips curve in a grin.

  But only a worthy foe, not some smuggler who’d strike his colors at the first shot across the bow or some ill-manned pirate prize with a handful of guns and too few crew to work them.

  She glanced across the fire at Kannstadt.

  What ship had he commanded? How many guns? How would Mongoose or Belial have done against him?

  A sudden, flat blat of a mangled note in the tune drew Alexis from her thoughts.

  She looked up to find that the player had come near their fire.

  He was a young man, perhaps her own age, thin and with long hair bound back in a spacer’s queue.

  Kannstadt was glaring at him and the player alternated a sheepish look to the Hanoverese captain with one of stern betrayal to the harmonica in his hands.

  “Sorry, sir,” the player said in English, a clear New Londoner, “it’s only got worse.” He sighed. “Might be time to retire her.”

  Kannstadt made a visible effort to steel his features, but Alexis noted the corners of his mouth turned up. “That is sad,” he said.

  “Might could get some strings from that schlange gut,” the spacer said. “Could maybe make a sort of gittern —”

  The corners of Kannstadt’s mouth fell.

  “— not a proper guitar, but there’s some gourds in the swamp might make a body. Like to have an odd sound, but would be something.”

  “An odd sound?” Kannstadt asked.

  The spacer scratched at his neck. “Well, no telling what the gut’ll sound like, is there?”

  “One of your countrymen, Kapitän Carew,” Kannstadt said with a tone of accusation. His lip curled. “Der Musiker.”

  “The men seem to like your playing,” Alexis hazarded, though the man didn’t seem to hear her.

  Der Musiker, as Kannstadt named him, was staring at Alexis, first with narrowed eyes and a frown, as though pondering something, then his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

  “Carew?” He stared at her a moment. “From Dalthus?”

  Now it was Alexis’ turn to ponder the spacer in turn, for he seemed to know her — or of her — and she was certain they’d never met.

  “I am,” she hazarded. “Have we met?”

  The spacer seemed to shake himself and drew his shoulders back. “No, sir — no, not met. But imagine you here.” He slid the harmonica into a crude pocket sewn into the skins he wore. “Thomas Aiden, sir, off Merlin, but after you left her, so we’ve not met.”

  “Merlin? She wasn’t with Chipley’s fleet.”

  “No, sir,” Aiden said. “I went aboard Merlin from Eidera just as the war started. Joined up, I did, then sent aboard Cicala, with Chipley, when she needed new men, but I was a Merlin-man long enough, sir — long enough to learn your name.”

  “I —” Alexis broke off as she caught Kannstadt looking from Aiden to her with eyebrows raised.

  “Why it’s like every snotty aboard — begging your pardon, sir,” Aiden said, “for the term, you having been a midshipman on her and all — but the lads were forever going on about, ‘Mister Carew’d not’ve done that’ and ‘Mister Carew’d’ve done this’ and ‘Mister Carew’d have a lighter hand’ and ‘Mister Carew’d not take such guff’ and —”

  “Mister Carew has the picture, Aiden,” Alexis said, holding up one hand to stop the onslaught. “Vividly, I think.”

  “Oh. Alright then.” The spacer shrugged. “Well, sir, and then word come of Hermione, and the lads were all more puffed up to have known you.”

  “Hermione?” Kannstadt asked. “The mutiny?”

  “You know of it?” Alexis asked.

  “Yes, it was made much of in Hanover that a New London crew would come to us.” He frowned. “What have you to do with that?”

  “I was one of her officers,” Alexis said. “Only a midshipman.”

  “It was reported that the officers of Hermione were taken captive.”

  Alexis nodded. “We were, but we were able to take a merchant ship and escape.”

  Kannstadt’s eyes narrowed. “This was not reported.” He sighed. “Of course, it would not be.”

  “She’s being modest, Captain Kannstadt, sir,” Aiden said. “It was Mister Carew here — well, lieutenant now, is it, and well deserved from what I’ve heard — that broke those fellows out. Hermione’s captain and other officers being the useless prats that they were. It was all the Merlins spoke of just before I transferred off.”

  “I think that’s enough, Aiden,” Alexis said. She wasn’t at all sure how Kannstadt might view her for that escape. The war might be over, but they’d still been enemies only recently. His men far outnumbered hers, but Aiden was not quite finished and didn’t seem to register her words as an order.

  “Then that court martial’d like to have hung a few of the lads she brung out — for show — but Lieutenant Carew here, she stood up in court and says to those captains, she says, ‘You harm a one of my lads and I’ll cut you down where you stand, you buggers!’”

  “I said no such thing!”

  Alexis studied the faces around her in the next silence, even a few of the nearby groups were staring, as she’d apparently said that quite a bit louder than she’d intended. Those expectant faces demanded explanation — certainly something other than what Aiden had heard and now repeated — but she couldn’t tell them the details, especially Kannstadt and the other Hanoverese. The whole of the bargain she’d made — the court determining her lads were not part of the mutiny in return for her asking Delaine to “lose” Hermione’s log and not allow the Hanoverese access to proof of Captain Neals’ abuses — was predicated on her silence. Admiralty wouldn’t look kindly on her telling a cave full of Hanoverese the whole story, no matter the ceasefire.

  “I convinced the court of their innocence, nothing more,” she said, knowing that Aiden’s tale, born in the rumor mill of ships’ crews, would likely win out in the end no matter what she said. “The proceedings were sealed — I can’t say more.”

  Aiden nodded. “Of course, sir.”

  Bloody hell, Alexis thought, I’ve trouble enough with Admiralty in what I truly do, without adding spacers’ fantasies into the mix.

  Captains heard these tales too, and she was only a lieutenant. What might await her one day serving aboard a ship whose captain thought she’d threatened the board of a court martial?

  “I didn’t threaten to kill anyone — I wouldn’t do that.” Behind her she heard a throat clear, but couldn’t tell if it was Isom, Nabb, or Dockett, and flushed red. “Well, not a court martial — I’ve some sense.”

  Alexis looked from Kannstadt to Aiden to —

  Was that a bloody wink?

  “That will be all, I think, Aiden,” she said in a voice that made certain things clear.

  The spacer straightened and nodded. “Aye, sir.”

  He nodded to Kannstadt too and walked away, pulling the harmonica from his pocket. In a moment, the instrument’s dubious tune began sounding through the cavern again.

  “Der Musiker’s approach brings us to a thing we should settle. The New Londoners among my group — I have done as I should for them, given our peril here, but even with the news of the ceasefire you bring, some have always been uncomfortable with me, I think. There are none of their own officers with our group.” He patted the sleeping Lieutenant Deckard’s shoulder and Alexis noted that his hand had remained there from the time Deckard had first gone to sleep. “Other than Leutnant Deckard, and he is too easily wearied by his injuries to see to them, you understand?”

  Alexis nodded.

  “They may wish, now that you are here, to look to you, hein?”

  Alexis had been
thinking that very thing, and wondering at what sort of man Kannstadt was and whether he’d object to those men who might wish to look to an officer from their own nation rather than one who had so recently been the enemy.

  “I think this is best,” Kannstadt said, “for those who wish it.”

  He watched her carefully and Alexis realized he was having those same thoughts about her, wondering if she was the sort who’d insist the New Londoners come under her command, no matter their wishes.

  “Some may be more comfortable with you, Captain Kannstadt,” she said, “having gone through so much with you.”

  Kannstadt nodded as though she’d settled something in his mind.

  “We face trials here on Erzurum, Leutnant Carew, and the men need discipline, but also understanding.” He smiled. “I think we are of the same mind on this. Those of New London who wish to join you, and I think it will be most, I will not object to.”

  “And the Berry March fleet,” Alexis said firmly.

  Kannstadt’s eyes narrowed. “Verräter,” he muttered.

  Alexis wasn’t sure of the meaning, but took his tone. The Berry March fleet had betrayed Hanover to join with New London and the French Republic.

  “The war is over, Captain Kannstadt,” she reminded him. “Those men left Hanover and are part of the New London fleet.”

  “We are in the Barbary, leutnant, and the Barbary is part of Hanover. Here they are traitors.” He shrugged. “It is no matter, there are none of that fleet in this group.”

  Alexis frowned. His tone made her wonder if there had ever been — and what might have become of them.

  “So, it is settled,” Kannstadt went on in a friendlier tone. “Those of your allies who wish to look to you may do so.” The sound of a damaged harmonica cut across the cavern — a note so dreadful that it stilled everyone to silent staring before Aiden resumed playing. “And der Musiker — yes, der Musiker must look to you now. Hein?”

  Thirteen

  O’ howl me hearties, bawl me mates,

  They made us slaves and chattel.

  That full tale’s one that I’ll not tell,

  But it’s one to test your mettle.

  Alexis slept fitfully, her mind full of plans — making and dismissing possibilities in turn. If only their radio had not gone down into a ravine with Tubbs, then their straits would not be nearly so dire.

  Definitive word, rather than a smuggler’s rumor, that the spacers from the fleets were on Erzurum would surely bring a greater force to bear. If she could only get that word to the other private ship captains, then even Spensley would have to give his all toward freeing them.

  “Captain Kannstadt,” Alexis asked the next morning, “do you have anything in the way of communications gear? Our own was destroyed and I’d dearly wish to know what’s happening with the rest of my crew and the other ships. More, word of your group’s presence will certainly bring help.”

  Kannstadt shook his head. “Nein. I am sorry. We have runners from other groups in these swamps, from time to time, but little in the way of electronics. They do not fare well.” His lips pursed. “I think there is a group — to the east — that has a comm, which they do not use often.” He shrugged. “There is little news of importance to us out here, hein?”

  Alexis understood that. “Would it be possible to contact them? Through these runners?”

  “Yes, but a week or more to get an answer.”

  “That’s too long — we can’t wait here for that.”

  “Where do you intend to go? You have said there is a stalemate and the settlements your friends have taken are far from here.”

  “I must contact them and let them know of your presence. Unless —” They might already know. “— would there be men from the fleets at the places we hold? Might they already know and be sending word back to New London?”

  Kannstadt shook his head. “The pirates kept none of us where they stay. There are slaves there, yes, but only those from merchant ships or other worlds.” He shrugged. “This is not unusual in the Barbary and of no note. Those captured from the battle were spread out to the farms and villages, far from where we might be seen by visiting merchants. I think the pirates worried at a rescue, but did not wish to give up the value of so many men.”

  “I believe there’s a settlement to the —” Alexis did her best to estimate the twists and turns of their march through the swamp. “— northwest of here? The closest, if you know it. We’ll go there and attempt to steal some sort of transport or comms with which to make contact.”

  Kannstadt stared into the fire. “When you told your story and I heard of your ships, I too had hope. Then, with your radio lost —” He shrugged. “Do you think there is still hope? Perhaps it is best for you to wait here with us and your friends will send more help for you?”

  “I’m not sure what they’ll do,” Alexis said. “They may think us dead. Captain Spensley is sure to lobby for escape when he’s recovered. Malcomson would be set against it, I think, and he can be quite persuasive.”

  “Deadlocked as you say the forces were. Even a stubborn man must bow to fate,” Kannstadt said.

  “Malcomson is Scots.”

  “Oh.” Kannstadt shook his head. “Even so, the settlement, Téneto, is no place for you to go. Not with thirty men, not with a hundred men. It is not large, but it is large enough, and they guard against us — escaped slaves — so you will have no more luck than we might. Even our forces combined are not enough.”

  “We do have more modern weapons,” Alexis pointed out. “I noted your men are all armed with spears and bows.”

  “We have some.” Kannstadt cocked his head to the rear of the cave. “The ammunition and power are limited, so we use them only when attacked by Erzurum’s settlers or the pirates — and avoid that when we can. Even better armed, I would not attack Téneto.”

  “They can’t protect everything,” Alexis insisted. “These farms, like the one you escaped from, they must be more lightly manned and vulnerable.”

  “Surprise, desperation, and speed are what got us free,” Kannstadt said. “Most escapes are not so grand as mine and Ian’s. By one and two they sneak off in the night or hide in filth and garbage carted from the farm — one by one, and make their way to the swamps. Those who are not caught or die in the journey are found by groups like this — we try to search for those escaping, but not too close, so as not to reveal ourselves and our homes here to the settlers. For a group to rebel, or for you to attack, the farmers have alarms to alert their neighbors and the towns — and the pirates who will send armed boats.”

  Alexis considered Kannstadt’s words, wondering if it were truly so hopeless or if his time in Erzurum’s swamps, and what he’d experienced here before that, had simply made him not wish to try.

  “Desperation we have in plenty, I think,” she said finally. “Surprise may be had with a proper plan, and speed comes in its execution — do you not agree, Kapitän Kannstadt?”

  “You are young,” Kannstadt said, “and have not yet seen the cost of such actions, leutnant.” He waved his hand around the cave. “These men are alive, they are free of Erzurum’s farms and der Herr’s lash. Most of their fellows are not so lucky — dead in finsterweltraum, the darkness between worlds, dead in the pirates’ slave pits, dead on those farms — for not working or to show others the cost of not.” He nodded toward Deckard who had woken with them, but had taken up staring into the distance. “You do not know costs, leutnant.”

  “I was at Giron. I know the costs well enough.”

  Kannstadt snorted. “Not aboard a ship in the battle — some officer in a schaluppe? Did you arrive with that fleet of reinforcements and never take a shot to your ship?”

  “I was aboard Belial, sir.” Alexis paused to control the tightness in her chest that always came with such memories. Kannstadt showed no recognition, which he shouldn’t — the Hanoverese would not know the name of such a small ship in the opposing fleet. “Our task was to shepherd the tr
ansports.”

  Kannstadt’s eyes widened. The two fleets might not have paid much attention to Belial and the Hanoverese frigate she fought at the time, but they’d certainly reviewed the battle’s records in their running fight from Giron.

  The Hanoverese captain took a deep breath and lowered his eyes to the fire.

  “Kapitän Schäfer was not honorable,” he said finally. “Your captain was a brave man. I see he taught you well, but, fräulein, the end is not always what you wish.” He shook his head. “Better to stay safe and await a stronger force.”

  “There may not be a stronger force,” Alexis said, ignoring for the moment that Kannstadt assumed she’d merely served aboard Belial and not commanded her. “If those private ship captains flee, all they know is there’s a pirate base here — who will come, and why? Not to rescue you — there’s no proof those captains have that anyone from the missing fleets is here. Not for me — even my own officers will have no reason to think I’m alive at this point. For all they know, we died in the boat crash. Why would they return? The private ships will seek easier loot. The Hanoverese government has shown little interest in curbing piracy in the Barbary, so there’s little reason to suspect they’ll change that policy now. New London will certainly not risk the current peace by sending a Naval force into the Barbary. These are Hanoverese worlds, after all.” She spread her hands. “Who is it you expect to come for you, sir?”

  Kannstadt made to speak but Alexis cut him off.

  “I commanded Belial at Giron, Kapitän Kannstadt,” Alexis said. “There were costs —” She closed her eyes and swallowed hard at the thought of those costs. “— dearer than I’d wish to pay, but I saw the soldiers and civilians on those transports safely home.” She pointed to Dockett and Nabb, as they were the closest of her lads and not spread out throughout the cave. “I’ll see my lads here safely home from this bit of mud, sir, because they look to me and I can do no other. These men —” She waved at the surrounding cave. “— look to you — whether they’re from your ship, or your nation, or some other. These are your lads, Kapitän Kannstadt, will you not take them home?”