Seaflower (39 page)

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Authors: Julian Stockwin

Tags: #Nautical, #Historical Novel

BOOK: Seaflower
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'He
called me names, Mr Kydd, no call fer that,' Luke said, in a low voice. His
eyes were brimming. He had served the Captain first, so there was no need to
know who it was had taken it out on this willing soul.

'F'r
shame, o' course,' Kydd said softly, 'but a good sailorman knows how t' take
hard words fr'm his officers.'

Luke
stared back obstinately. 'But he called me
...
it ain't right what 'e called me.' He turned and, with great dignity, left.

'I
seen bilge rats worth more'n he, the shonky fuckster,' Doggo growled.

Renzi
said nothing, but stared at the table. Kydd tried to lift the mood: if things
got worse,
Seaflower could easily
turn into a hell-ship. "There's no one seen him with a Frenchie in sight -
could be he's a right tartar, he gets a smell o' prize money.'

'Don't
talk such goose-shit, cully,' Stiles said wearily.

The
table lapsed into a morose quiet, and the wash of talk outside on the larger
berth-deck became plain. Patch's voice came through loud, his tone bitter. 'I
teU yer, we flogs up 'n' down the Caribbee in this ol' scow, yer ain't never
goin' ter feel a cobb in yer bung again!'

'Yair,
but—' someone began.

Patch's
tone rose in contempt. 'Drops hook fer the night, never 'eard o' such shy
tricks. We choked up inter this squiddy cutter . . .' The never-ceasing
background babble rose and fell, and Kydd pictured the pugnacious seaman
glaring wildly about'... blast me eyes if it don't stick in m' craw, nothin'
but this fer ever . . .'

There
were sounds of scuffling and mess traps falling to the deck, then Alvarez
calling, 'Where ye goin'
camaradd?

'Topsides
— I've had a gutful.'

'Wait—'

Kydd
met Renzi's eyes. 'It can only get worse,' said Renzi slowly. Kydd knew he was
right:
Seaflower’s captain was
alienating his own ship's company, treating them as some necessary evil in his
own problem.

Kydd
agreed. 'No chance o' this one gettin' a promotion out o'
Seaflower, he added. The probability was that he had
been given the command of a lowly cutter to satisfy some Byzantine relationship
of obligation, knowing that he would not be put to the test so easily.
Seaflower
would gradually decay from within, her heart and
spirit wilting and fading under the disinterest and neglect of her captain. It
was intolerable that the willing and exuberant soul of their vessel was to be
wasted so.

A
discordant sound — it might have been a muffled shout, thumping — jarred Kydd's
ear against the general noises. It seemed to originate from on deck. If the
lookouts had failed to see an approaching attack in time .
..
Kydd scrambled to his feet. 'Somethin'
amiss on deck.'

Renzi
did not move, but looked up with a dry smile. 'I can conceive that Toby Stirk
may well be a trifle restless!'

No
one else seemed to have noticed as he forced his way aft. Kydd had no idea what
would he would see on deck, and his mouth went dry as he mounted the ladder. It
was dark, and he stopped short of emerging on deck while he blinked furiously,
trying to pierce the murk. It had stopped raining, but the deck was wet and
slippery. He caught movement around the stern but could not detect any other as
he climbed out on to the upper deck.

He
hurried aft, to where bumps and thuds sounded, and nearly fell over the
lookout, who was on all fours trying to pick himself up. Kydd looked around
hastily. In the longboat were Patch, Alvarez and two others. Patch had his
knife, was sawing at the painter. Kydd shouted, and the chorus of snarls and
laughter from the boat as it fell away left no doubt as to what they intended.
The oars came out and it disappeared quickly into the night.

'What
is it?' puffed Merrick, appearing next to him.

'Deserters,'
Kydd replied. 'Skelped th' lookout an' took the longboat.'

'Who?'

'Patch,
Alvarez 'n' a couple of others.'

Desertion
was a continual worry for the navy - a good seaman could greatly improve his
wages in the merchant service, or do even better by shipping out in a
privateer. Theoretically, it could be punished by death or, worse, flogging
around the Fleet, but practical considerations usually led captains who
recovered men to treat the offence lightly rather than lose a good hand. But
Swaine . . .

'Get
below an' tell the Captain,' Merrick muttered. Without another boat there could
be no pursuit.

Kydd
went down by the after companion, and knocked at the door. 'Cap'n, sir!' he
called.

There
was movement inside, and the unmistakable clink of glass. 'What is it?' came a
hoarse reply through the closed door.

'Sir,
the longboat's been taken b' deserters.'

At
first there was no response, then Swaine's angry face appeared. 'Deserters? Did
y' say deserters?' He pulled on his coat. The thick odour of drink in the tiny
cabin turned Kydd's stomach.

'Vile
set o' lubbers, I'll have y'r livers at the gangway t'morrow, try me like
this!' The diatribe continued until Swaine had made the upper deck, where he
staggered upright. 'Poxy crew, this's an aggravated offence an' I'll see you
all at th' yardarm, so I will!' he shrieked into the darkness.

To
his disgust Kydd saw that Swaine had on his naval officer's coat, but no
breeches. Lurching along the deck forward Swaine continued until he came to
Stirk, still shackled to the main-hatch grating. 'Don' ye dare cross my bows
li' that, y' scowbunkin' brute,' he snarled, kicking viciously at
Stirk, who
recoiled against the blow. It threw Swaine off-balance — he flung out an arm to
seize a shroud batten, but missed, and fell headlong into the sea.

The current carried him swiftly down the
side of
Seaflower,
splashing and choking. A line was thrown
but Swaine was in no condition to snatch it, and within seconds he was
disappearing into the dark astern. The knot of men stood paralysed. There was
no boat to go to the rescue, and nervous eyes turned to the boatswain. 'We has
to get under way an' go after him,' Merrick said, shaken.

Jarman appeared, drawing on his shirt
'No! We have blashy weather an' coral under our lee, no time t' be standing in
t' the land in the dark—'

'Y' misses m' point!' Merrick said, in a
stronger voice, and with a peculiar emphasis
. 'I says we have t' get under way, Mr Jarman.'

Jarman
stared at the boatswain. Then his face turned mask-like, and he replied, 'O'
course we must.' It was madness - but there was a chilling reason for the
dramatic play. Each of the warrant officers was acting a part, knowing that
every word and action would replay at the court of investigation that was
certain to come.

'Haaands
to unmoor ship!' Stiles' pipe was made in a complete and appalled silence, the
deck filling with apprehensive men. No good would come of this night, that much
was clear, but they would go through the motions all night if need be.

 

At
noon the next day
Seaflower sombrely
reversed her course after spending all night and the following morning
searching for her captain. His body was never found. At Port Royal Jarman and
Merrick both went to the flagship; they swiftly returned, and with them a
lieutenant and file of marines. Seaflower was effectively under arrest.

The
court of inquiry was over almost as quickly as it was convened — the
overwhelming number of witnesses made it so, and it became clear that their
evidence concerning Swaine came not as a complete surprise.

Kydd
felt a pressing need to be out of
Seaflower,
ashore and somewhere different, and when it was learned that the new captain
would not be appointed for some time, he lost no time in suggesting that he and
Renzi call on Cecilia.

The
housekeeper's disapproving look was just the same, but when Cecilia hurried to
the door Kydd was amazed. 'Thomas, my dear!' she cried gaily. 'How sweet of you
to call!' She kissed him soundly, then noticed Renzi with a bob and dropped
eyes.

'Cec,
you look so, er, in rousin' trim!' Kydd said awkwardly. And, indeed, there was
colour in her cheeks, her eyes held their usual sparkle and the warm vivacity
of her nature shone through.

'Yes,
dear, life must go on, must it not?' she said quickly. 'And you, Thomas, are
you not the picture of good health?'

It
was established that the men would stay for an evening meal. Cecilia quickly
took charge. 'I shall invite Jane, of course, and I want you to meet her
betrothed — it's so exciting!' Dinner would be in the front parlour due to the
unexpected number of guests, and Kydd helped the frosty housekeeper with the
table.

As
Cecilia laid places and bustled about, she told Kydd and Renzi her news. 'Lady
Charlotte — that's the wife of Lord Frederick Stanhope - met me at Mrs
Burchell's rout!' The idea of a Kydd meeting a noble lady socially was
astonishing. 'It's the very place to meet people, here in the colonies, you
know, Thomas. It would never do in Guildford, would it?' Her infectious laugh
made Renzi smile.

Then
she went on, her manner a fetching mix of youth and sophistication, 'And you'd
never guess, she wants me to be her companion when they go travelling.' Kydd
said the expected, and Renzi murmured encouragement, and she concluded, with
what looked suspiciously like a pout, 'Who knows who I may meet on our travels?
Why, there are gentlemen in this part of the world worth millions.'

They
sat down to table with only the barest discussion as to seating; Jane's
intended was a young ensign of Foot in regimentals and quite at a loss when confronted,
with a requirement to sup with a brace of thoroughbred sailors. 'Wine, er,
gentlemen?' he said stiffly.

'Thank
you,' Renzi said. He twirled the glass elegantly before a candle. 'I do find
the Margaux a martyr to travel - this colour has a pallid quality, perhaps not
your foremost
era.'

Kydd
dabbed his lips with his napkin: those weeks up-country had not been wasted. He
raised his eyes and said unctuously, ‘Y'r claret is a sensitive flower, o'
course. F'r m'self a hardy Burgundy would be more t' my taste,' he added
easily. 'I'd recommend a Chablis were we t' be granted a breeze-mill in the
cooling. But y'r very good health, sir.'

It
was worth the pain of all Renzi's patient efforts just to see the expressions
around the table.

Chapter
i5

 

 

 

 

 

 

'
Name's Kernon,' said Doud, 'an' I don't think we're
goin'
ter
have the same kind o' grief fr'm him.' He finished his seaming of the jib and
bit the thread. "Sides, he sets me up as yeoman of the store-room,' he
added, with satisfaction. This made him a man of influence, of some moment in
the small ship, for he was in charge of the boatswain's sea-stores.

'Give
y' joy, Ned,' said Kydd. He'd only been back on board an hour or two, and there
were definite signs of improvement about
Seaflower.

Doggo
smiled grudgingly. 'O' course, we lost s' many men b' deserting, Cap'n just has
to fin' senior 'ands fr'm somewhere.'

Renzi
came up on deck. 'What cheer, mate,' said Doggo, 'an' what's the griff?' Renzi,
acting as clerk to the Captain, would know ship's secrets.

'I'm
not so certain that I should allow Captain Kernon's confidences to become
public property,' he said, frowning. Kydd caught his quick wink.

‘Publick?
We's yer backbone o' the ship, has t' be in on th' noos so we c'n plan things
out, like. C'mon, tell us what yer knows!' Doggo's hoarse wheedling brought a
grin to Kydd's face.

Renzi
leaned forward and said earnesdy, 'This must not get out - it's of the first
importance to the future of this ship.'

'We
understands, mate,' said Doggo eagerly.

'Ship
is under sailing orders!'

'Yeah,
we knows that'

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