H.M.S Valor Page 17

  “Doctor Crowsner Sir,” Will replied.

  “Ah. I feared as much.” Elliot replied with a scowl, he turned to a lieutenant that had come across with him from the endurance. “Run back to the Hunter, have them send over a compliment of carpenters and their surgeon, straight away lad.”

  “Aye Sir,” the lieutenant said snappily turning to execute the directive.

  “Apologies Sir, the Captain is out of sorts. He isn’t in condition to receive a flag officer properly,” William warned as he opened the cabin door.

  Elliot could see immediately the dire condition Johnathan was in. The light settled into the cabin softly from the aft windows and he saw Captain Grimes laying shirtless in his hammock. Pale as a ghost, drenched through in sweat. As soon as he stepped in Elliot’s senses were assaulted by the smell of the Captain’s wound, corrupted flesh has putridity matched by few other odors. Johnathan turned his head; aware someone had entered his cabin.

  “Admiral?” Grimes spoke a growl almost too faint to hear.

  “Yes lad. Keep where you are. Let me see that wound.” Elliot instructed softly.

  Captain Grimes lifted his head slightly, struggling to make his arm obey for a second to lift the dressing covering his wound. Admiral Sharpe could see where he was trying to lift and assisted him removing it. Elliot could see the wound, a six-inch stitched laceration with several smaller wounds around it, it was a deep purple in color with a web of pale yellowish streaks leading away toward the mottled gray skin surrounding. He could see pus coming from the stitches and the odor under the bandage was foul, it smelled of death.

  “I hate to inform you boy.” Elliot began, pausing when he could see Johnathan knew exactly what he was about to say.

  “I know Sir. I won’t survive this.” Johnathan interrupted.

  “I was going to say likely; you won’t likely survive this. However, I believe your presumption is correct. I warned you about Crowsner, what a poor excuse for a surgeon. I warned you about that damn Scotsman, far too often in his cup and he consorts with a manner of pagan practices. I warned you Johnathan and I see like the stubborn mule you are you have ignored my heeding, likely to your death. My surgeon aboard the Endurance would’ve had every bit out and the wound cleaned proper, you’d be right to sail in a week.” Sharpe scolded. “But no use for it now. Johnathan, you sent signal for tea. I assume your inquiry alluded to the order involving East India Company ships.”

  “Yes Sir. Do you know anything Sir?” Grimes asked a sudden spark entering his composure.

  “You there, you are the First Lieutenant am I right?” Sharpe asked to an onlooking William who seemed to snap out of some melancholy state hearing the Admiral address him.

  “Yes Sir, I am, Lieutenant William Pike, Sir.” Will replied.

  “Very well. Johnathan, if you are to perish, do you have any qualms relinquishing command over to this lad?” Elliot asked flatly.

  “None Sir, he will make a fine master and commander.” Grimes said looking over at Will almost smirking at the dumbfounded expression on the young officer’s face.

  “Right then. Listen closely Will, your lot has joined the fleet at a precarious time. Now the order to remain a minimum of four cables distance from every company ship was given to my fleet four months ago. I received it from Governor Alton in Kingston, though I am unsure if it originated there. If you received the same orders from England, I doubt Alton is the only one involved.” Sharpe said sitting onto a stool in the cabin.

  “Involved in what Sir? What ends could these orders possibly serve?” William spoke up.

  “I have reason to believe the East India Company is operating a slave smuggling operation in defiance of both parliament and crown. I myself lead a landing party inshore from the cove where the Endurance is currently at anchor. We came upon a prison camp and were thusly engaged by the men guarding it. I lost some of my marines in the exchange and one is still missing, taken prisoner I assume. It is purely suspicion at this point; however, I believe Africans are being taken by the company and shuttled here, then distributed from the camp I just mentioned.” Elliot said looking intensely at Will.

  “The governor is involved Sir? Are you sure?” Will asked. The situation seeming more and more formidable as the Admiral listed his suspicions.

  “I am sure of nothing Lieutenant. I have my suspicions. What I am sure of is that there is slave trafficking through seas I am responsible for. If it is in fact the company, if the governor is involved, if anyone in London is aware, I cannot prove. What I can prove only makes me more suspicious. What I need right now is my fleet, upright and battle ready. How soon can you sail Lieutenant?” Elliot asked.

  “It will be two more days Sir; the foremast needs to be replaced. We’ve repaired the rail and mended what we can of the gun ports. The lion’s share of the larboard battery is good only for ballast at this point and any provisions we had that were not destroyed by the water taken on in the storm are now ruined. We are in desperate need of a proper refit in port Sir.” Will replied reviewing their condition.

  “I suspected as much and fortunately enough; my next destination will be Kingston. However, when we get there, I will require every able marine you have on ship. You will have twenty-four hours to take on what you need Will, not a minute more. I expect a very cold reception from Governor Alton and quite possibly a hostile farewell, our departure may be quite rushed.” Sharpe extolled with a gravity that gripped both officers. “Use the carpenters I’ve brought over. Keep them for the sail to Kingston, likely you will need the hands with the casualties you’ve taken.”

  “My thanks Admiral.” William replied gratefully.

  “No son, it is I who should be thanking you gentlemen. If you hadn’t engaged those pirates, it is likely they would have bottled us into that bay and harassed us with cannon fire to no end. Johnathan, you truly have embraced the name of your vessel.” Sharpe said his voice going rasp as he looked over at the ailing Captain.

  “Not her last by far Admiral. William shall see to it.” Johnathan said in a trailing voice. His strength failing as he spoke, he lay his head back into his hammock surrendering to exhaustion. Elliot stepped over, checking him for breath. He looked over to William,

  “He is still alive lad. But my guess is it won’t be long. Make your preparations for sail, two days son and then we sail with the tide.”

  “Aye Sir.” William responded. He took his leave promptly, there was far too much to do and too little time. Two days had been a hopeful response to the Admiral’s question, even with the additional hands.

  Chapter 8

  ‘Gazelle’

  18 Sept 1808

  17 Degrees 48’ N, 76 Degrees 7’ W

  A hopelessness had engulfed everyone aboard the Gazelle. The sailors, who at first had taken a vigor to their work of sailing the ship as if their lives depended on it, had fallen into a surrendered temperament. The snappy shouts and crisp replies had faded to a tone of resign. The two ships off their stern had spent the day pursuing them at a pace the small band of sailors and inexperienced Africans just simply could not endure. As the sun drew lower into the west the sails grew larger behind them until detail of each vessel became more and more pronounced to the naked eye. When the winds began to shift from the east to southeast a sail adjustment became necessary. To the aggravation of the sailors aboard the line adjustment was too much for the four of them to accomplish without aid from some of the Africans. One of the African men who tried to assist them heaving a line lost his footing, causing the man next to him to trip and the team lost their line spilling wind from the sails at a critical moment. The lack of knowledge or coordination from the Africans enraged the sailors who were desperately trying to evade their pursuers and miserably failing to do so.

  Dr. Lemeux stood on the aft castle looking out over the narrowing expanse of sea separating the Gazelle from the stalking predators behind her. The dark clouds overhead threatened another storm, which they could not weather and the ships a
pproaching would have them in their grip before nightfall. The situation seemed utterly hopeless and Lemeux began thinking he may be responsible for signing death warrants for every soul aboard. Then, as if cued by his mental anguish, the stalking ships unfurled large black banners billowing out into the wind.

  “Pirates, damn!” one of the sailors lamented.

  “What of their banner? Is it one you know?” another asked.

  “No. It’s not one I’ve heard of before.” the first sailor answered.

  “Maybe it is good, an unknown pirate crew, maybe they aren’t so terrible.”

  “Shut up you idiot,” the first sailor balked, “It likely means they don’t make a habit of leaving anyone alive to tell tales.”

  The horned skull floated over the decks of the imposing ships as the distance closed and Lemeux felt his heart sink farther with each passing moment. The menacing black eyes of the horned skull seemed to mock their waning attempts to flee and the trident canted behind drew a shiver from LeMeux as his eyes traced over it. He looked around the gathered Africans on deck. What business did he have starting a mutiny and sentencing all these people to their deaths? Would a pirate crew really murder a ship full of stolen men, women and children? His head swam in a furious circle of questions and fears as his eyes welled up until the banner behind them became a black blur floating over a formless ship. God damn them all. Damn these ragamuffin sailors, any crew worth its salt would have found a way to evade or be preparing to mount a defense. But now it was a forgone conclusion, they were far too close to have any hope of escape and fighting seemed an even more certain doom. Omibwe crutched his way over to LeMeux’s side sharing the doctor’s hopeless look.

  “They will come and steal us away?” Omibwe asked.

  “I don’t know Omi, they may kill us all, they may take whatever goods we have and leave us to die of our own devices. Either way, it seems, I have doomed us all.” LeMeux replied in a wave of sorrow.

  “No. Not your fault doctor. The sailors on this ship, it’s their fault. They are the reason we are here.”

  “I guess you are right my friend. But what does it matter whose fault it is, this is where we are,” said the doctor.

  “Talk to them doctor. Make them friends, you have a way. I know you can,” said Omibwe with a spark of hope.

  “I will certainly try my friend, I only hope they would listen but I fear that may not be high on their list of priorities.” LeMeux’s eyes fell to the sea as he spoke, “You should go be with Anaya and your mother, they will want your comfort now my friend.”

  The sailors aboard the Gazelle gave up all hope shortly after hearing a single cannon shot, raising a white banner into the stiffening wind. They loosed the sheet lines and spilled all the wind from their sails. It was a dreadful, somber feeling watching the pair of ships as they approached and enveloped the Gazelle. One of them drew near on the starboard rail and grapple lines were thrown over. With a few minutes the heaving sailors had drawn the ships close enough to drop a gangplank across. A filthy skinny man in ragged pants with no shoes or shirt scurried across, dropping onto the deck in front of the gathered occupants aboard the Gazelle. His wide grin revealed crooked and rotten teeth as he leveled a set of pistols into the crowd of sailors and Africans. Behind him a tall broad-shouldered older man strode across the gangplank with a swagger, he too held a pistol in each hand though this man maintained the muzzles skyward. LeMeux noted authority with this larger man, his beard and thick side chops were streaked with shades of gray and he nodded direction to several of the men following behind him, they reacted promptly.

  “My name is Chibs and I am the first mate aboard the Drowned Maiden!” the man shouted out over the crowd on deck. “We are claiming this tub for our fleet and any crewman who wishes to defy this may meet me with steel in hand!” He looked around seeing the group of Africans huddled together on deck and a puzzled look crossed his face.

  “Where be your Captain?” Chibs growled.

  “The Captain of this vessel is dead.” LeMeux called across in response.

  “And who be you?” Chibs shot back.

  “I am a Doctor, the reluctant doctor of the ship on which you stand. You should know you are boarding a vessel occupied only by captured slaves and men pressed against their will. There is little aboard for you to take,” said LeMeux. Chibs seemed slightly taken aback, unsure of his next action. It was precarious, just a few of them had crossed onto the Gazelle and there was a crowd of Africans all around him. The possibility of an elaborate ruse by a ship of the East India Company still lingered in his mind. Behind him, Captain James and Lilith fanned out against the crowd, sword and pistols in hand. Lilith’s hands became unsteady as she took in the sight of the Africans, her eyes choking back a welling of tears. Everywhere she looked, she could see her mother.

  “Captain, we’ll sweep below decks and sort this matter now. I’ve a feeling the good doctor here is telling his tale true, but let’s be sure.” said Chibs, his eyes unshifting from the Africans gathered around them.

  “Aye Chib. Do that. Lilith, go with him.” James replied.

  “Aye Captain,” said Lilith.

  The pair made their way to the weather hatch through the crowd, the Africans parted to make way for the armed duo as they moved. Lilith looked over all the faces, her gaze stopping at a woman with a young girl by her side. Her eyes held a defiant glare, the look of a mother lion guarding her cubs. On the other side of the young girl under the woman’s arm, Lilith caught the wide-eyed look of a young man leaning on a wooden board next to an empty pant leg. His eyes belied something else entirely, a look not unlike a few she had received from James in fact. Lilith felt her face flush slightly and they continued past, going below deck. The instant they entered the belly of the ship both Lilith and Chibs were assaulted by the same horrifying odor they experienced from the Shepherd. Remaining below deck became a severe challenge and the two searched through the compartments and cabins in a methodical sweep toward the bow as their stomachs churned from the stench. The cells were plain enough evidence, this ship was a slave hauler. The gun deck housed six cannons on each side, twelve pounders each appearing to be in worse condition than the one before it as they looked through.

  “It’s been a spell since they’ve seen any use of these Lilith, likely they’ve had escort ships along with them,” said Chibs in his customary sailor’s growl.

  “This is wretched Chib, worse than the Shepherd was…” Lilith gasped, choking back gags as she spoke.

  “My guess is she’s been at sea quite some while lady. Africa is a month-long journey or better,” he replied. “The conditions these poor souls endure…” his voice trailed off as his eyes led across the gun deck toward a cabin at the bow. “That’s odd.”

  “What?” Lilith asked following.

  “This compartment up here. Maybe it’s an extra magazine or some such, it’s just strange they would have it in the bow,” answered Chibs as he trudged his way up the deck towards the compartment door, Lilith close behind. As they drew near a lock came into view barring the latch closed. Looking around Chibs grumbled something about shot and stepped over to the gun nearest the door. He hefted one of the twelve-pound balls that lay in a wooden crate next to the gun carriage and returned to the door. With a swift strike down wards, Chibs broke the lock under impact from the heavy cannon shot. Unceremoniously he tossed the shot to the deck with a heavy thud and removed the lock as the cannon ball rolled away. Inside the compartment as Chibs opened the door, Lilith peered into the dark compartment. There was no light except for that coming in from the lantern Lilith held. She could see gleaming chains hanging on the walls, shackles, whips. Suddenly Lilith was struck with a panicking urge, she could feel it like a lightning bolt through her legs and up her back, she wanted to run to flee these awful instruments and never lay her gaze on any like it. Chibs grumbled, something about killing the miserable sods who used these on people and Lilith felt her courage return. Her gaze fell to the floor of
the compartment, where Chibs stood.

  “I would bet that James will want to toss this shit overboard, but girly, I think we might keep it. It could be useful for chain shot. Have I ever told you of the time James heated chain in a fire and we defeated a Navy ship? We made him Captain after that.” Lilith no longer heard what he was saying, her eyes remained fixed on the deck boards beneath his feet. Something was off about the spot where he immediately stood.

  “Chibs, move.” Lilith instructed.

  “What?” he replied a little confused.

  “Chibs, there’s something under you,” said Lilith pointing to the deck under him. He jumped slightly, fearing something sinister was under him and scrambled from the compartment. Looking closely Lilith could see the edge lines of the deck boards, running laterally across the deck. But there was an edge running perpendicular to the others, it seemed out of place to Lilith and as Chibs looked closer he noticed it also.

  “Sweet mother’s son! Lilith, good eye lady, good eye! Here, give me a hand,” exclaimed Chibs. He withdrew a dagger from his belt and kneeled inside the compartment, he wedged the blade into the gap between deck boards and began to pry upward. As the board came loose Lilith reached over Chibs’ shoulder to help pull the boards away. Underneath the boards lay a small compartment, but Lilith could not see very far into it from where she stood behind Chibs.

  “What do you see Chibs? What’s in there?” Lilith asked excitedly.

  “Lilith go get James. He needs to see this straight away,” he answered sitting up slightly. “Go girl, fetch the Captain!” Lilith startled a little by Chibs’ short reply turned and raced above deck, grateful for a breath of fresh air. When she returned with James, Chibs was sitting on the cannon carriage hunched over facing away from them.

  “Chibs!” James called, “Are you alright? What is it man?”

  “Look here Captain!” Chibs gestured to a chest at his feet. The lid was opened and as Lilith raised the lantern light up to it, she could see a brilliant sparkle of shining coin. “There’s two more in there James, same size as this one.”