Dark Chaos (# 4 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series) (21 page)

Robert leaned forward in the small skiff Silas was piloting and examined the ship in front of them.  He had learned quite a bit about boats from a college friend whose family had been in the shipbuilding business.  It took only a moment to realize the war had advanced ship technology faster than anything had in years.  “What’s her name?” he called back to Silas.

              “That’s the
Phantom
,” Silas yelled forward.  “Built just this year,” he added proudly.

             
“She’s a beauty,” Robert responded, then leaned forward to inspect her.  The
Phantom
was a slender, low, side-wheel steamer.  From all indications he guessed she weighed about 500 tons, her length about nine times her beam.  Her lead color blended with the ocean perfectly.

             
“The
Phantom
burns anthracite coal,” Silas offered.  “The stuff makes no smoke at all.  Why you don’t even know she’s nearby until you’re within a hundred yards or so.  You won’t have any trouble on board that beauty.”

             
Robert had no trouble believing him.  He had never seen such a fine specimen of a ship.  He was eager to get on board and look around.  Captain Bueller had a boat to be proud of. 

             
Silas had pulled him out of bed before the sun was even up.  He had two horses tied up outside the inn where Robert had stayed.   After several hours of riding, they were met by two men with this boat.  The
Phantom
was anchored in a narrow inlet of the Cape Fear River and completely hidden from sight. 

             
“Who goes there?” a strong voice rang out cheerfully.  “Silas, is that you, you old goat?”

             
“Aye, and I got me a spry young buck with me,” Silas yelled back.  “Pull her alongside, boys!” 

             
Robert was  surprised to find himself standing in front of a man he guessed not to be more than a few years older than he himself.   Robert had expected the captain of a ship such as the
Phantom
to be much older. 

             
“Robert Borden?  Nice to meet you.”

             
Robert recognized the clipped accent at once.  “You’re British, Captain Bueller?”

             
“Something wrong with that?” he asked sharply.

             
“Not at all,” Robert said quickly.  “I guess I’m just surprised.”

             
Captain Bueller grinned and slapped him on the back.  “Welcome aboard, Robert.  Hang around the blockade-running squadron long enough, and you’ll discover most of us are British.  Next you’ll discover that almost all the boats confounding the Union navy are British built.  My government might not officially recognize yours, but that’s no reason to turn down the offer to help a good cause.”

             
“And make a healthy profit in the meantime,” Silas added dryly.

             
“That, too,” Captain Bueller agreed easily.

             
Robert inspected him closer.  They were about the same height, but there the similarities ended.  The captain had a thick shock of blond hair over his blazing blue eyes.  A reddish-blond beard stood out against his deeply tanned skin.  Powerful shoulders and hands spoke of years at sea.  He was not exactly handsome, but Robert suspected the man commanded attention wherever he went. 

             
“Do I pass inspection?” the captain asked.

             
Robert flushed.  “It’s just that you’re not what I expected.”

             
“Good.  I hate living up to people’s expectations.  It’s always best to keep them guessing.  You’ll learn that out here.”  Captain Bueller turned and snapped orders to his crew.  “Mr. Borden is our last passenger.  We leave tonight.  Prepare the ship.”  Then he turned back to Robert.  “Come up top with me.  I’ll fill you in on what to expect.  If we’re lucky, we’ll sneak right through that Union blockade out there.  If we’re unlucky, we’ll have one whale of a good time and have a lot to write home about.”  He threw back his head and laughed heartily.

             
Robert joined in, his liking of the captain growing by the minute. 

             
Bueller started talking as soon as they reached the top deck.  “You’ll only be with me until we reach Nassau.  It will probably take three or four days if all goes well.  From there you’ll load onto a much bigger vessel to cross the ocean to England.”  He gazed over his ship.  “They started making these babies when it was obvious something much faster was needed to outwit the Yankees.  I’ve been through the blockade with the
Phantom
three times now.  Union boats only saw me once.  They never came close,” he grinned proudly, rubbing his hands together.  “I foresee a long, profitable career ahead.  At least until the Union navy catches up with our technology.  Or as long as your boys can keep the ports open,” he admitted wryly.

             
Robert listened, fascinated.  “How long have you been doing this?”

             
“Since just after the war started and Lincoln ordered the blockade.  Mother England needed your cotton.  You needed our money and goods.  It was a match made in heaven.  The first year of the blockade was a joke,” he snorted.  “I could have slipped through it with my eyes closed.  The Yanks didn’t have a chance patrolling over 3,000 miles of shoreline.  Especially shoreline like this, with all the inlets and shifting sand.”

             
“And now?”

             
“And now it’s more difficult,” he admitted.  “More of a challenge.”  The gleam in his eyes showed that he enjoyed it.  He frowned slightly.  “The Union navy has undergone a lot of change.  They’ve put hundreds more ships in operation.  They are retiring the old, slow wooden vessels and manufacturing a new kind of boat just to stop us.  They’re sending out a fleet of thousand ton sloops-of-war armed with thirty-two pounders.”  He shook his head.  “So far I’ve been lucky.  They’re also developing their own fleet of boats like this to try to stop us.  They’re armed with twenty-four pound howitzers and patrol the rivers and bays.”

             
Robert gulped and stared out over the water.  “I see.”

             
Captain Bueller laughed again.  “Oh, it’s nothing to worry about.  There are always ways to get through.  He who knows the game best will always win.  And I know the game,” he boasted confidently. 

             
“Why are you doing it?”  Robert asked quietly.  He wanted to know more about this man he sensed could become a friend.

             
“Money,” Bueller said flatly.  He looked at Robert closely.  “I suppose I should say I’m doing it to aid the glorious cause of the South,” he said wryly.  “Don’t get me wrong,” he added quickly.  “I’m on your side.  I don’t think the North has a right to dictate what you can and can’t do.  I hate slavery, but I’m enough of a free spirit to think you should be allowed to make your own decisions.  On the other hand,” he continued honestly, “my thinking you’re in the right would hardly be enough to make me risk my life for people who live in a country I’ve never visited until the last two years.” 

             
He turned to scan the horizon carefully.  Satisfied, he turned back.  “I do it because I can make more money in one month than I could make my whole life back in England serving in the Royal Navy.  I’ve also discovered I can spend more in one month than I might have in my entire life,” he said cheerfully.  “I’ve become rather addicted to my lifestyle.”  He shrugged his powerful shoulders.  “So I continue to run the blockade.” 

             
Robert wasn’t sure what to say.  He didn’t find it offensive that the captain had mercenary motives.  If there weren’t men like him, the South would probably have already folded.  European supplies were the South’s very lifeblood. 

             
“I’m not a total mercenary,” Captain Bueller added.  “I do it for the adventure as well.  Things were getting rather boring in Old England.  Haven’t had a good war in a while.  So I took leave from the Navy and came to play games with the Union.  Whatever I may be, I’m definitely not bored.”

             
Robert laughed.  “I like you, Captain Bueller,” he announced suddenly.  “Thank you for having me on board your ship.”

             
“I like you too, Robert Borden.  As I said, you’re welcome on the
Phantom
.”  He turned away to examine some charts.  “If you’ll excuse me now, I have work to do before we leave tonight.”

CHAPTER TEN

             
Robert was talking quietly with his two traveling companions when Captain Bueller called them together.  He was glad for the distraction.  He had found the two older men more than slightly boring.  He had no idea why they were headed to London, and he was not about to reveal his own mission.  If they could have talked honestly, they may have found more ground for communication, but circumstances demanded discretion.  Robert was glad he would only have to share their company for a few days. 

             
“We’ll be casting off soon,” Captain Bueller announced.  “I find my passengers handle things better if they have some understanding of what we might encounter.  Since I am not interested in having panicked men on my boat, I’d like you to listen carefully.”

             
Robert was amused at the offended looks on his companions’ faces.  Making no effort to hide the smile playing around his lips, Captain Bueller exchanged a sardonic look with him. 

             
“Once we reach the ocean,” the captain began in a commanding voice, “we will likely encounter two rows of blockading warships.  The first line will be close to shore, just beyond the reach of the Confederate batteries stationed there.  The second squadron will be patrolling some twenty to forty miles out.  The first row will be hardest to run.  Our low profile and high speed will pretty much guarantee we’ll slip by the outer line.  They’ll probably never even know we’re in the area.”

             
His voice grew stern.  “Secrecy is what will keep us alive.  There will be absolutely no light on the ship to give away our position.”  He nodded at the oldest man.  “Mr. Stanford, I’d like you to extinguish your cigarette.  There will be no more smoking until I have given the order.” 

             
Mr. Stanford complied silently, his face white, his lips set. 

             
“You may go below.  You’ll be safest there,” Bueller continued and then waved their dismissal.

             
Robert bit back his disappointment and turned away.  He hated to miss the excitement, but he would do nothing to upset the order of the ship.

             
The captain drew him aside as he was going down the stairs.  He waited until the other two men were out of hearing; then he said in a low voice.  “Care to join me on the bridge?  Or would you rather hang out with those stuffy men?”

             
Robert grinned.  “Lead on, Captain.”

             
Captain Bueller was silent as they made their way to the bridge.  Robert could feel the change come over the man.  The confident bearing of the shoulders was still there, but gone was the cocky arrogance.  He was all business.  Robert understood why his men trusted him even though most of them were years older.  Bueller was a commander who inspired confidence.

             
“Move her out,” he ordered quietly. 

             
Robert stared up at the sky as the boat glided smoothly toward the mouth of the inlet.  The sky had been startling clear earlier.  Now he noted with satisfaction that a thick layer of clouds had blocked out all light.  There was not even the dim glow of the new moon to betray their presence to patrolling Union boats. 

             
Soon the silence was penetrated by a dull roar.  Robert leaned forward expectantly, knowing they were reaching the mouth of the Cape Fear River.  Soon they would make their way through booming surf into the Atlantic.  His heart pounded right along with the approaching breakers.  The powerful boat eased through the surf effortlessly, any engine noise completely obscured.