The Seahorse (6 page)

Chapter Nine

A sudden gale was making life for the sailors miserable. Lord Anthony's squadron was now gathered in Hamoaze, a sheltered deep water estuary, off Plymouth. The squadron gathered here in order to escort the Plymouth convoy to the Caribbean. A pounding rain beat against the tarpaulin jackets of those officers and men whose duties kept them on deck.

Captain Buck was en route to the Port Admiral's office for a conference with the ship captains who would make up the convoy. Jepson, the master, had predicted a blow by mid-afternoon and had recommended Buck break out his foul weather jacket. Unfortunately, Buck failed to follow the master's recommendation.

Damn Jep
, Buck thought as rain pelted his sodden uniform.
He's always right
.

Tom Blood, Buck's cox'n, had taken the master's advice and had his tarpaulin within reach when the rain started…not a cable's length from
SeaHorse
. He had offered it to his captain, who out of concern for his cox'n, or out of stubborness, had refused it. Well, they still had a long pull yet.

On board
SeaHorse
, Bart and Jep squatted in a corner under the poop just aft of the wheel and puffed on their pipes. “'E's a good sort, better 'n most yew find,” Bart said, talking about Buck. “I knowed 'im when 'e was jus a lieutenant. 'E's been with 'is Lordship off 'n on ever since. We's been through some pretty tough scrapes together and 'e's always held his own. Course we's taught 'im right we did…me and 'is Lordship. Same as we did Gabe,” Bart added.

Meriweather, the fourth lieutenant, had the watch. He had been tempted to order the two gossiping old salts off the deck but knew it wasn't wise to order the master to do anything. Lamb, the first lieutenant, had given a warning in regards to the admiral's cox'n. “If you don't want to spend the rest of your life on the beach, tread lightly around Bart.” Well, Meriweather decided, he'd take Lamb's advice.

“Lieutenant Meriweather!” The call came just as the lieutenant passed by the poop. “Lieutenant!”

Turning, Meriweather could see it was Bart motioning for him. Not sure how to respond to an “inferior” summoning him, he paused a second, then when Bart waved again, he ducked under the edge of the poop.

“Come take a breath out of the rain,” Bart said.

“I'm the duty officer.”

“It's still raining.”

“But I might be needed.”

“They'll cry out for you. That's what you got watch standers for. 'Sides Captain Buck won't like it if the glass gets fogged up.”

“But I have the duty!”

“It's still raining…it's going to fog up.”

“But I'm supposed to tote the glass when I have duty.”

“Well,” Bart said, taking a deep breath, “keep under the poop lessen yews called and then stick it under your tarp.”

“Thank you, that's a good idea.”

Jep, having remained silent while Bart was talking to the lieutenant, spoke. “This will clear before the first dog watch. You can have a glass of warm brandy when you go down to eat. That'll keep the misery out of your bones.”

“I'll do that.”

Boat ahoy was heard, so Meriweather sighed, tucked the glass under his tarp then rushed to the entry port.

“'E 'as the makins I'm thinking,” Bart said.

“Aye,” Jep agreed. “At least 'e had sense enough to get out of the rain.”

***

Buck was soaking wet when he returned to the flagship. He changed uniforms in preparation to report to Lord Anthony.

A gentle knock then the marine sentry called, “Flag captain, suh.”

“Come in, come in.”

“I guess Bart talked with the marine sergeant,” Buck volunteered.

Smiling, Anthony said, “Pleasant, wasn't it?”

“Aye,” Buck replied. “Bart usually gets his point across.”

“How did the meeting go?” Anthony asked, knowing from past experience what the answer would be.

“Well enough for a bunch of grocery captains who whine about having no protection. Then they whine some more when told they can't sail independently and have to comply with signals and instructions.”

Without asking, Silas walked into the cabin and handed Buck a glass of wine. “Another glass, My Lord?”

“No thank you, Silas. Has the weather cleared?” Anthony asked. He'd been informed by Bart that Buck had not bothered to get a tarpaulin before leaving the ship. He then was caught in the downpour in his gig.

“Aye, it's cleared.”

Buck then scooted his chair a bit closer to Anthony's so he could be heard as he whispered, “Forgot my damn jacket and was too stubborn to send a young gentleman to fetch it. So there I was standing like a drowned rat. A puddle was gathering around my feet as I tried to explain sailing instructions to the convoy captains. Made a poor show of it I did.”

“Well don't beat yourself up too much. There's not a sailor alive who hasn't got caught in a squall at one time or another.”

Hearing voices, Lady Deborah stepped out of the sleeping quarters after making sure her husband was not involved in, as he put it, admiralty business. She and Macayla had come aboard the night before the squadron had weighed anchor at Portsmouth. Seeing Lady Deborah, Buck rose to greet her but she waved him down.

She stood behind Anthony, hands on his shoulders, and asked, “Did you invite the good captain to dine this evening?”

“I was about to, my dear.” Anthony looked at Buck. “If you have no other commitment, Rupert, we would be happy to have you dine with us. I've also invited Gabe and Faith. Lord Ragland has also been invited. Once at sea we may not have a chance to do so until we reach Antigua.”

“Thank you, My Lord, Lady Deborah. I'd be honoured. Will Gabe bring Lum?”

“I asked Faith to bring him along if Lum didn't mind,” Deborah spoke up. “So we will see.”

***

Gabe leaned against the weather rigging and adjusted his glass until the flagship came into focus.
The vessels in the convoy made an impressive sight
, he thought, with their pyramids of sail filling the early dawn sky. The sun had slowly clawed its way up until it was full on the horizon.

No red sky this morning
, he thought, his mind on the old sailor's saying...red sky in the morning, sailor's warning; red sky at night, sailor's delight.

Last night had been a delight. He had recalled the lovemaking he and Faith had enjoyed. After he and Faith had dined aboard the flagship he had explained to his bride that there would be a slim chance of dining together again with Gil and Deborah until they reached landfall.

“So it'll just be the two of us?” Faith asked.

“No, we'll invite the ship's officers from time to time but for the most part it'll just be us,” Gabe replied.

“I could get greedy very quickly,” Faith said.

“I won't mind,” Gabe had replied.

He had considered having Faith travel back aboard the flagship, but once Nathan Lavery, Davy, and the warrant officers had arrived, things had turned around quickly. He was glad he'd decided to keep Lieutenant Wiley. He had done a splendid job thus far and he had the respect and trust of
Peregrine's
crew…those that hadn't run.

Lum had spoken to one of the old crew in passing. The seaman replied, “Things lookin up, not a flogging in a week.”

“Deck thar,” called the mainmast lookout. “Strange sails off the larboard bow.”

“You have a good lookout, Mr Lavery.”

“Aye, Captain,” the first lieutenant replied.

Unable to find the ship in his glass Gabe called to Midshipman Ally, “Signal flagship strange sail in sight.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Mr Lavery.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Call all hands. I've a feeling about me.”

“Aye, sir.”

“When we are able to identify her or we have a signal from the flagship call me. I shall now go break my fast.”

As Gabe ducked his head and started down the companionway, he could hear the shrill twitter of the bosun's pipes calling all hands.
That ought to wake Faith
, he thought…
the sleepyhead
.

***

Gabe had just sat down to a cup of coffee when the marine sentry knocked. “Midshipman Ally, sir.”

Gabe smiled to himself. Even the marines were now calling Alejandro Ally.

“Mr Lavery's respects, sir. Flag has signaled: investigate strange sail.”

“Thank you, Mr Alejandro,” Gabe said, using the boy's name. It wouldn't do for the captain to use nicknames. “Now tell me, are you still satisfied with your decision to be a sailor?”

“Oh si…I mean aye sir. I would want to do nothing else.”

“Very well. Now go tell the first lieutenant I will be up directly.”

Gabe had yet to finish his coffee when he could feel the ship turning on a course to intercept the strange sail. Lavery was a good first lieutenant. He had taken the initiative to comply with admiral's orders. Just like Jem Jackson would have done.

Finishing his coffee, Gabe paused on his way out of the cabin to look toward his sleeping quarters. She was still asleep.
Another thing they had in common
, he thought as he left the cabin and headed on deck…
we're both hard risers
.

Before Gabe could make his way to the quarterdeck the lookout called down, “She's changed tack sir, hauling her wind I'd say.”

“I'll go,” Lieutenant Davy volunteered, seeing the expression that came across Gabe's face as he appeared on deck.

Within minutes Davy was back on deck. “She's a large ship, sir. The size of a large frigate, but she has hauled her wind right enough.”

“That's puzzling,” Gabe said. “I thought she might be a merchantman wanting to sail along with the convoy.”

“That she may be,” Gunnells volunteered. “There's safety in numbers.”

“I don't think so,” Davy spoke again. “In truth she looks like some of the Jonathan ships we've tangled with. Like a large privateer.”

“Makes sense,” Gabe said. “She could keep a close watch on the convoy then pounce on a straggler.”

“Like in a squall,” Gunnells added.

“Or at night.” This from Lieutenant Wiley.

“You've got something there,” Gabe acknowledged. “Mr Lavery, once we are close with the squadron make a signal to flag requesting permission to close within hailing distance.”

***

The attack came suddenly and from an unexpected quarter. After two days with no sightings everyone seemed to have relaxed. The sun was going down and the sky had a reddish purple haze.

“Deck thar, signal from
Alert
…strange sail to larboard.”

“Relay to flag,” Gabe said, immediately a sinking feeling in his gut. “Lum!”

“Aye Cap'n.”

“Escort Mrs. Anthony and Nanny below.”

“Aye, Cap'n.”

“What is it, Gabe?” Faith asked.

“Shh, Missy Faith,” Lum said. “Mistuh Gabe got to be the cap'n of this heah ship right now. He ain't got no time foh your questions.”

“Deck thar,” the lookout called down again. “The ship is on a converging tack to attack
Alert
.”

“Damme,” Gabe said, looking at the sky. “They'll never see a signal in this light. Mr Lavery!”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Fire off two red flares. That was the signal enemy in sight. Then beat to quarters.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Gunfire, sir!” Lieutenant Wiley exclaimed.

“Aye. I heard it,” Gabe responded.

“
Alert's
under fire,” the excited lookout called down.

“You were right,” Lavery said. “Privateers, by God.”

“No,” Gabe answered. “Davy was right.”

“Flares from the flagship, sir, two white.”

That meant “acknowledge.” No instructions.
What instructions can she give
? Gabe thought to himself.

“Mr Gunnells, put us on a course to intercept yonder ship.”

“Aye, Captain.”

The gunfire was clearer now. Gabe raised his glass but could see nothing in the dying light except the flash of cannons. He shut his glass with a snap. “Mr Lavery, I'm going up for a better look.”

“Aye,” was all the first lieutenant had time to say. He was used to his captain doing the unexpected.

Once he made it to the mainmast lookout, he could see better.

“It be a big un, Cap'n,” the lookout said as he made room for Gabe.

“Aye,” Gabe snarled. “A wolf after a pup.”

Ambrose Taylor, the captain of
AlertI,
was no fool. He was under full sail and zigzagging as much as he could to make it difficult for the bigger ship to bring her under good aim. The privateer was firing bow chasers.