Secrets of the Realm (6 page)

"You don't have to. Guess what their story is. For instance, see that fellow over there? He signed on while I had business in town."

The young man Mr. Montgomery referred to was in his late teens. Unlike most of the sailors, his black hair hung below his shoulders. Rolled-up sleeves revealed muscular arms.

When he introduced himself to Annie earlier in the day, he had taken her breath away. "His name is Ambrose Barrette," Annie said. "But he prefers being called Barrette."

"He is certainly a brawny fellow, no doubt a blacksmith's apprentice," Mr. Montgomery said. "I'd wager he was too friendly with the blacksmith's daughter. Her father then chased Barrette out of town, and that is the reason he is now a member of our fine crew."

"That is amazing, sir. Christopher told me that Barrette was a blacksmith's apprentice. But I don't know about the rest of your story. How do you know if you are right or not?"

"I don't. But whatever Barrette's story is, the possibilities are high that he is running away from someone or something."

Wise or not, Annie could not resist asking the first mate, "What would my story be, Mr. Montgomery?"

"Hmm, let's see." The first mate studied Annie. "The clothes you wore when I first saw you weren't yours. You have had a good life as well as a bad one. You should not be well educated, but you are. You are a paradox, lad."

"How often are you right?" Annie asked.

"Often enough."

"If you don't mind me saying, sir, you are a paradox as well."

 The jovial first mate's smile disappeared.

"I am guessing you are an Oxford gentleman, and you should be the owner of this vessel, not her first mate. You are as indebted to the captain as he is to you. How did I do, sir?"

Mr. Montgomery's brow knitted together. "You play the game well…well, indeed. Now go below and get some sleep, busy day tomorrow."

CHAPTER TEN

"Time to get up!"

Annie pulled the blanket over her head. "What time is it?"

"Four bells."

"Four what?" She said groggily while she stretched her arms.

"Four bells," Doc repeated. "It's the way sailors tell time."

"Maybe you can explain it better to me than Christopher did."

"The striking of a bell represents thirty minutes. There are eight bells, one for each half hour of a four-hour watch. Right now, it is four bells, six o'clock, two hours into the morning watch."

Annie shot straight up. "The captain wanted his breakfast two hours ago!"

"He is too busy to worry about eating now. I am surprised Mr. Allan's confounded whistling on that pipe of his didn't wake you."

Annie heard the Realm buzz with activity. Looking up at the overhead, Doc tapped his lips twice. "I am accustomed to all kinds of movement and sound down here. I know when the ship changes course and how bad a storm is without feeling a drop of rain." 

He tapped his lips a third time. "But that racket—I just don't know."

Wearing the same clothes from the night before, Annie folded her blankets and pulled on her knitted cap. "I think it's quieted down," she said. "I'll take a look."

"Wait!"

It was too late. Annie opened the door. At the sound of rushing footsteps, Doc pulled her back and quickly closed the door as Ambrose Barrette dashed by.

Annie pressed her ear to the door. She trembled as Barrette cursed his pursuers. After a brief struggle, an uneasy silence followed and then voices boasted of their catch. Annie backed away from the door when she heard what sounded like a body being dragged down the passageway. She and Doc stared at the door as the minutes passed like hours. Annie could wait no longer. Against Doc's protests, she again went for the door. He grabbed her arm, but she pulled free and opened the door a crack. Convinced the passageway was clear, she ran to the hatch.

*     *     *

On the main deck, Annie found Captain Hawke waving a piece of paper in the face of a rotund man. He was significantly shorter than the captain. His soft-looking hands and elegant clothes convinced Annie that he was not a sailor.

"My first mate paid you handsomely, Mr. Collins," Captain Hawke said. "I don't care what this paper says."

Annie's eyes drifted toward the wharf. A shiver of horror shot through her. Not only was Barrette hunched over in shackles, but Christopher as well. She saw Christopher's lips form the word
NO
as Barrette spat in a captor's face. The man, his arms thicker than Annie's slim waist, struck Barrette's bloodied head with the butt of a pistol.

As she watched Barrette crumble to his knees, Annie turned to Mr. Allan. "Are they going to kill them?"

Mr. Allan clenched and unclenched his fists. "No, Barrette and Christopher won't do the press gang much good if they're dead."

"I don't understand," Annie said.

"They force men into service for the Royal Navy," Mr. Allan said. "When Collins' men came aboard the Realm, the captain had me signal the crew. But it was too late for Christopher. They had already grabbed him. Barrette came to his aid, but the lad is no fool. When he saw he was outnumbered, he took off running like the rest of the sailors."

Mr. Allan patted Annie's shoulder. "Don't worry. You are safe."

Annie turned when she heard the captain shout, "We had a deal!"

"As you can plainly see by the press warrant, Captain Hawke, my hands are tied. The Royal Navy needs more sailors. I shan't allow you to interfere with my job simply because you are not loyal to The Crown," Collins replied.

Mr. Montgomery pushed past Mr. Allan and joined in the fray, "What about your loyalty, Mr. Collins? How many bribes have you taken from other captains to secure their crews' safety?"

"My loyalty is not in question, Mr. Montgomery." Collins tapped his snuffbox. "Personally, I thought you and Captain Hawke would be pleased I took the lame one off your hands. We took twenty men off the Legacy yesterday. All able-bodied, I might add. But if you are not grateful, perhaps I should take more." He leered at Annie. "Starting with this young chap."

Captain Hawke stepped between Mr. Collins and Annie.

"The Royal Navy needs strong, seaworthy
men
," the captain said. "Why would you want my cabin boy or Christopher? Even you called him lame,"

Collins smirked. "How much will you pay to get him back?"

"You despicable little man!" Captain Hawke shouted.

Collins sniffed a pinch of tobacco up each nostril. "It's business, Captain Hawke, nothing more, nothing less."

"Mr. Montgomery will compensate you, Mr. Collins. However, you are never to step foot on my ship again. I would hate to see misfortune befall you."

Captain Hawke's biceps bulged as he grasped Collins under his armpits lifting him off the deck. The man's stumpy legs dangled in space.

"Put me down!"

"With pleasure!" The captain said as he hurled him into the railing.

Collins bounced off the wooden rail before falling in a heap. Two of his men pulled out knives, but when Mr. Montgomery stuck a pistol to Collins' temple, he called them off.

Having sustained nothing more than a bruised ego, Collins struggled to his feet. He retrieved his powdered wig, placing it lopsided on his head.

In his haste to collect payment from Mr. Montgomery, Collins did not see a black ledger fall from his coat pocket, but Annie did. More importantly, so did Captain Hawke.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Christopher returned to the ship without fanfare.

Symington complained to no one in particular, "The cap'n gets the cripple back and loses the fit one."

Annie reached up to Christopher's face and just as quickly pulled her hand away. "You're bleeding," she said

He brushed her aside as he walked across the deck. "Captain, we must do something!"

"What do you suggest, Christopher?"

"Rescue Barrette," he murmured.

"Say it again, Christopher. Only this time, say it like you mean it."

Christopher straightened and in a clear voice said, "Rescue Barrette, Captain."

"Now, that is more like it," Captain Hawke said.

*     *     *

After consulting with Mr. Montgomery, Captain Hawke had the ship's carpenter brought to him.

"Symington, you will be in Mr. Montgomery's rescue party," the captain said while he ripped out all references to the Realm from Collins' ledger. "I assume you are up to it."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n! Ye know me, always ready for a fight!"

"Be quick about it, or we sail without you. Understood?"

"Understood, Cap'n!"

"Good." The captain turned to Mr. Montgomery, handing him the monogrammed black ledger. "Give this to the proper authorities. Most of Collins' dealings are illegal."

"So, we are to rescue Barrette
and
give this to the authorities," Mr. Montgomery said while he skimmed through the pages. "Is there anything else you would like us to do? Perhaps, we should bring back feed for the livestock or maybe a new knife for your collection."

"Are you through, Mr. Montgomery? You have contacts, use them." Captain Hawke continued. "Symington, Mr. Allan, Carter and Samuel Baggott are experts with pistol and blades. They will all be in your rescue party. "

"Is it wise sending Mr. Allan and his best bosun mates?"

"Actually, I have decided you will be taking two more. Smitty and Christopher will accompany you as well," Captain Hawke said.

"I can understand Smitty, but why Christopher? Why not a gunner? Now, that would be a good pick."

"Christopher is as capable as any sailor, and he is good with a knife."

"He carves blasted little sea creatures. And if Barrette hadn't tried to rescue Christopher, he would not be in this fix."

"Exactly, Christopher needs to return the favor."

"You are insane."

"You know better than to question my judgment…or my sanity." The captain said with a crooked smile.

"This is a foolhardy mission and you know it. We should have rescued Barrette when he was still on the dock."

"Collins' men were prepared to fight. This time, we will have the element of surprise on our side. Even my cabin boy knows about the element of surprise."

The captain looked at Annie. "What unites a crew more than a foolhardy mission?" Captain Hawke asked.

"A
successful
foolhardy mission," Annie replied.

"I like the way you think, boy," said the captain.

Mr. Montgomery grumbled as he went off to gather the six members of his rescue party.

*     *     *

While the first mate gave words of strategy and encouragement to his men, Annie watched Christopher nervously whittle away on a piece of wood.

"My condolences mate," Symington mumbled.

"What are you talking about?" Christopher asked.

"Doubt ye will be making it back, son. But don't worry, I will make sure ye 'ave a proper burial."

 "Oh,
I'll
make it back, Symington. But I am not certain you will," Christopher said. "Do you want a burial at sea or should we simply plant you in the ground?"

It pleased Annie to see Symington speechless.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The ship came alive in its final preparations to weigh anchor. With Mr. Allan gone, Perry piped the captain's orders to the remaining rigging crew. Annie watched the quick movement of the bosun mate's hand—open, shut—as he signaled the crew.

The soft hairs on her arms stood on end when Captain Hawke commanded, "Andrés, when I give the order, hoist the Blue Peter. Rodrigues, show him how it's done."

"Aye, Aye Captain," said the dark eyed sailor. "Come along, Andrés."

Annie followed Rodrigues while the deck crew moved in seamless precision. Annie awaited further orders.

After the sails came out of hiding like giant butterflies emerging from their cocoons, Captain Hawke shouted, "Hoist the Blue Peter!"

No sooner had Annie raised the blue and white flag, a hush came over the crew. It had obvious significance, she thought. Seeing the sailors' reaction, she asked Rodrigues, "Why is everyone so quiet?"

"The Blue Peter signals those on shore that we are about to sail."

"But we can't sail. The rescue party hasn't returned."

"Don't worry. They will see the Blue Peter," Rodrigues answered.

"Make yourself useful, boy. Go aloft and be our lookout." Captain Hawke pointed to the barrel-shaped structure lashed to the top of the main mast. "And take this."

Annie tucked the spyglass into her waistband before scrambling up the ratlines. Once on the platform, she held the glass to one eye surveying the streets leading back to the ship.

It was not long before she shouted, "I see Smitty and Mr. Allan!"

A roar came over the Realm as the sailors crowded the larboard rail. Minutes later, she yelled another name, "Barrette!"

"How does he look?" Rodrigues yelled up at her.

"Good!" After his ordeal, Annie thought, he looked mighty fine. Her eyes trained on him as he dashed across the dock with head held high.

Her heart skipped a beat. "Christopher!"

The gangly youth ran awkwardly toward the wharf. Once aboard, Christopher's fellow shipmates good-naturedly slapped him on the back.

Annie spied yet another sailor.

"Symington!" 

Waving his cutlass in the air, Symington marched on board as if he were leading a parade.

As much as she detested the man, Annie was glad to see he was returning safely. After all, he was still one of her shipmates.

Annie's palms became sweaty when she saw no more sailors approach the vessel. Celebration turned to quiet concern, except for the captain who remained calm at the helm.

She wiped her hand on her trousers before bringing the spyglass back to her eye. "Mr. Montgomery!" Annie shouted.

Cheers rang out while sailors flung their caps into the air.

Mr. Montgomery stopped at the edge of the wharf. Resting his hands on his thighs, he glanced over his shoulder. No one else came into view.

Annie watched with dismay as the gangway was pulled onto the ship after Mr. Montgomery raced on board.