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deannawolTitle: The Highest of Seas, The Lowest of Men
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
deannawol
Artist:husariaagatka
Type: Historical AU
Word Count: ~ 101,000
Rating: Mature
Characters/Pairings: Adam Lambert/Kris Allen; David Cook/David Archuleta; Cale Mills; Brad Bell; Katy O’Connell;
Warnings Slash (M/M) relationship(s), oral sex, violence, graphic descriptions, language used in the 18th century (i.e. period specific terms which may be deemed racist), whipping used as punishment and in a non-BDSM environment.
~#~#~
17th May 1710
Charles Towne Harbour, Charles Towne, Carolina
“Come closer, boys, and I’ll tell you a tale. Not one of the long, rambling stories told by drunk men in the tavern, of pirates and treasure, but a true accounting of terror and murder, of blood and gore and the darkest of men.”
The boys, not one older than fourteen, edged closer to Lieutenant Allen, leaning in expectantly. They were a mix of powder monkeys and cabin boys with a newly appointed ensign sitting in. Some were new, brought along by the more experienced boys who knew that one of Mister Allen’s stories beat the wrath of Mister Mills, the Boatswain. It was a part of an agreement that the Lieutenant had with the Boatswain and the Purser to keep the boys occupied while he restocked their ship, The Hawk, and in truth, Kris enjoyed telling the boys of his adventures on the seas, imaginary though many of them were. This was a much better way to pass time until the tide turned than making busy work aboard ship and getting in the men’s way. They knew what they had to do even better than he, and if the littles were to wander among the cargo, then there would sure be an accident.
Kris looked around, as if searching for any man standing on the pier taking too hearty an interest, before continuing, “You will not hear this from some old sea dog who sits beside the fire, spinning a yarn in the hopes of someone buying them another watered down cup of grog. This is no false rumour spun into ever growing tales that shift and change with every murmur of the crowd. No. My tale is true, boys, upon my very honour. True as I am sitting here in front of you now.”
The boys nudged each other and smiled. The younger ones hid in the shadows of the older lads but that would change soon enough.
Kris shook his head, letting his voice fall, “Indeed, I wish that it were not the case, for still it haunts my dreams and edges into my nightmares and sets my blood to ice, but as we put to sea, I would have you know the dangers that you will face out there on the waves.”
Wide eyes from the younger boys and smiles from their elders pushed him on, “The night of which I speak happened shortly after I had been made up to Lieutenant, a little over five years ago now. We had sailed out of Charles Towne that day, bound for Barbuda, a small enough island but a troubled one,” he explained, “There were reports of pirates, you see, sailing the waters between the Americas and the Caribbean islands, capturing any ship that they happened to cross wakes with and putting their crews to the sword. That by itself is not noteworthy,” he shook his head. “The ocean is vast and we all know well that pirates sail the seas even now. But this was different. These were bloodthirsty brutes by all reports, cursed by the devil himself to sail the seas wreaking havoc and leaving widows in their wake, but that was just hearsay and tavern gossip for no man had survived the encounter.”
“We were well to sea when the captain ordered the watches. I was assigned to Middle Watch, never a rewarding watch as it breaks the back of both the night and the man standing it, but I was excited. You see, this was my first watch without an officer standing over me and I trembled with nerves even as I looked forward to the duty assigned me.” He paused to look out to the harbour, to where the sun was dipping ever lower, staring into middle distance as he continued his tale, “The moon was in hiding that night, missing from the sky and,” he sighed, “I suppose that that should have been an omen but in my youth, I laughed it off. I remember now that it had been a mild day and an even milder night, with scarcely a breeze blowing. The crew were abed an hour before the midnight bell rang. It was just Old John on the deck with me. Old John kept us to course with a deft hand on the helm as I walked the railings, eyes on the sea watching for the first hint of sail or trouble. He’d been aboard ships his whole life and I have my suspicions that the captain told him to keep an eye on me that night. Indeed I was glad of it, for trouble would stalk us that night and Lord knows that without him, I would not be standing here to tell you this tale.”
There were gasps from the boys and Kris smiled. The littles looked to their older crewmates and saw them nodding. Old John was a good man, an old sea dog, with a temperament to match but finer man never stood in shoe leather and Kris was glad that he was so well remembered by the boys even though he had left the world two years previous.
“I had just made my way from the bow of the ship down towards the aft when all at once, a wind picked up, blasting gusts through the rigging and making the sails flap with such a crack that it sounded as if we had ridden into the depths of a storm, with thunder splitting the sky. Winches collided with masts, hard enough to leave dents in the solid timber. The rigging snapped taut, whipping back and forth like a cat o’ nine tails swung by a hard boatswain’s arm,” Kris gestured with a hand, snapping it left and right. The boys followed his movements with their eyes. “Keeping my wits about me, I ducked the lines as I ran back towards the wheel, dodging this way and that to avoid the ropes. It was then that I noticed the sea, still calm as you like, calm as ever it had been. I crossed myself in that instant for it was then that I knew that it was an ill wind and that this night would not go easy on us.”
He paused before continuing, “I was almost to the steps up to the mizzen deck, when I heard Old John utter an oath so vile that I believed he must be dying. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, skidding to a stop on the timbers but no injury could I see. I called for his report but he did not answer me, could not answer me for he stood stock still, his arm extended, his finger pointing to the sky,” Kris raised a single finger up, mimicking his words and the boys followed it.
“Against every ounce of will I possessed, I looked up, following his direction to stare at the sky. Twinkling in the night sky were the stars, heavenly hosts above us to guide our way. Nothing worthy of shock and awe, or so was my thought. I was about to express that very opinion to Old John when before my eyes, the North Star blinked out. Just like that, it was gone, and then it’s neighbour with it. Another and another disappeared, leaving only the blackest pitch in their wake.”
The boys looked between each other, and Kris saw the youngest boy, Samuel shift closer to him, gnawing his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes wide as dinner plates.
“The wind, in that second, gave one final deathly gust, whistling through the sails and then died as suddenly as it had started.” Kris leaned in closer, and dropped his voice to just above a whisper making the boys lean in further to hear his words, “Silence followed on behind that last breath and nothingness on its heels. The night was dead around us and for a second I thought that I had been struck deaf. There was no sound, not even the steady lap of the waves against the hull. I heard Old John mutter a blessing under his breath and the relief that I felt was solid. But my relief died quickly. With only the light of a handful of lanterns to see by, it seemed as though we had been plucked from the world. And that was when we heard it. A bell. Ringing once, twice, thrice and then the silence again.”
“I rushed to the side of the ship, scanning what little of the horizon that I could make out, trying to spot land, for I was sure that somehow we were about to run aground. My mind knew that we were two hundred miles and more from the nearest shore but my heart, my heart would not be told.” He paused again and let his voice drop, “You see, the bell sounded exactly like a church bell knelling out notice of a funeral, slow and steady. It came again, clear and sharp, but with it this time came the first wisps of aether. Curling over the tops of the waves, it rode closer and closer until it licked at the timbers of the ship, climbing the sides to run across the deck. I backed away, afraid that should it touch me it would pull me down into the deepest, darkest Hell. A deathly chill settled over the ship and with each breath, more mist joined the wisps around my feet. I crossed myself again and started to say a prayer to the Virgin but Old John’s hand rested atop my shoulder. He looked down at me and with a weathered voice said ‘The Lord and his mother have turned a blind eye this night. Prayers are for naught. Old Nick rides the waves.’” Kris croaked out the words before returning to his own voice, “I wanted to think him mad, but I knew it was truth that he was speaking.”
“The mists rose higher with each passing minute and still the bell tolled. We could not, either of us, tear our eyes from the depths of the fog and fear clenched tight around our hearts as we saw deep in the depths of the fog, a green light,” Kris reached out as if to touch the memory. “Ethereal and beautiful it crept closer, sending waves of terror before it as it approached. I could hear the creak of rigging and knew that the light must be from a ship though I could not make it out. Siren song called to us and froze us in place. Whispers rose from the fog, calling us closer but we could not move. Even if we had wanted to, it was as if our feet were one with the deck.”
Zachery, one of the older boys, reached out and drew a cold iron nail across the back of Samuel’s neck and the poor boy jumped a foot, crying out in terror. Kris cast a withering look at Zachery and the child ducked his head, smile still on his lips. Samuel shifted closer to Kris, his little hand pressed to Kris’ boot as he put the other on his neck. Shivers still ran through the boy and Kris patted him on the shoulder.
“We could make out the lines of the ship as it approached,” he continued. “Sails darker than the devil’s soul, blacker than the night sky above us. Pendants caught a breeze high on the masts and even in the dark, I could see their colour. Red. A deep crimson that set fear running through me. As we watched, the ship turned to come alongside us and as it did, I saw a sight that quickened my heart. A flag, the ship’s colours. Red as the pendants, red as fresh spilled blood and on it a skull sitting on a bone crossed with a sword.”
The boys gasped. They knew well the description as did all hereabouts in Charles Towne. Though the governor forbade it, many pirates made port here, swapping their customary colours for less provoking flags on their way in, but on the way out to sea again, they taunted the good folk of Charles Towne by flying their despicable flags, and while these colours had not been seen in the port for many a year, the older boys would know well the stories.
Kris played on what little they knew, “Legends in these parts whisper the tales of a ship that travels with black sails and a flag such as that but, in truth, I had believed them to be little more than stories. The conjurations of men too deep in the bottle, but that night, I found that I was wrong. For before us was The Madness, captained by the most feared pirate in these parts. It’s said that the Master of The Madness walks the decks with Davy Jones at his right hand and Lucifer at his left.”
The boys crossed themselves, touching their foreheads, stomachs, shoulders and hearts with a speed that no priest would approve of, only to repeat it several more times.
“It’s said that there is a place carved out for him in Hell but that a pact with the Sea herself keeps him from the Judgement that he so richly deserves. I do not know the truth of that but one thing is true and certain, and that is that widows up and down the coast curse the name of Captain Lambert, for stealing away their husbands, casting them down into the depths for the folly of opposing him.”
The younger boys looked to the older boys for confirmation and were rewarded with nods.
“I swear to you now, boys, that when I looked upon that evil flag that night, my heart near stopped beating as fear and terror knotted themselves to my spine and settled in my stomach. But that was not the entirety of it,” he shook his head, “Far from it. Standing on the deck opposite us, armed with swords and pistols were a ghostly crew. Brought forth by some arcane trickery no doubt, dead men faced us down.” The boys gasped but Kris did not slow in his telling of the tale, “Bones bleached white by salt winds, grinning widely at us and beckoning us to come closer. I stepped back and back and stumbled against the rigging, cracking my head against the main mast. Maybe the Lord was on my side, or maybe it was just divine provenance but the blow was enough to knock some wits into me and I opened my mouth to raise the alarm. No words came at first but I was relentless, running for the alarm bell and striking it hard as I was able and it was not a moment before cries of distress were heard across the ship.”
“Footsteps rang out in the silence and I knew that my voice and the bell had carried. The captain came first and stopped beside me. He asked me for my report but his eye caught the other ship before I could reply. He ordered the crew to stations while dead men watched and mocked. The captain gave the signal to fire cannon and not even a minute later, shot sailed through the skies to the boat opposite. We waited with baited breath for the smoke to clear, hoping, praying that our cannon had been true. And praise the Lord they had! Broken and scattered, our enemies were spread across the deck.”
The boys cheered and Samuel smiled up at Kris. Kris paused long enough to ruffle the lad’s hair before continuing, his voice dropping low again.
“We had thought that was an end to it, that with a single volley of our cannon that we had defeated the dread pirate and his crew. I looked to the captain and saw a smile on his face. But that smile faded and died when we heard the cry from the other ship as from below decks, there came pouring out a multitude more men, each as unnatural as the twice dead crew that stood on deck only moments before,” Kris shook his head, “There was no time to brace as they grabbed ropes and swung over, too cowardly to even attempt to match us with guns for they knew we would outmatch them in every way. Without hesitation, I drew my sword and prepared to engage.”
Kris sighed mournfully, “My father warned me when I was much younger of the dangers of swordfights but never one word had he said, nor instruction had he given, concerning how one goes about fighting a man with no flesh. I fought like a man possessed, so focused was I on defeating these abominations, slicing and parrying the blade that whistled close to my ear, slashing and kicking, hoping for a lucky strike and with the Lord’s blessing, I bested my first man,” Kris mimed his actions out and boys ducked his imaginary blade, “But no sooner than I had lowered my sword to take a steadying breath than another was upon me. And another stepped forward as his mate was put down and so it continued. I ducked and weaved through the hoards, sending these dead men back to their Maker. And I was not alone. No. The crew, every man of them, fought and fought but for every man we put down, there seemed to be two more just waiting to cross swords with us.”
A quiet voice from beside his foot, Samuel, asked, “What about Captain Lambert?”
Kris smiled, and scruffed the boys hair again, “Such a question, Samuel. You will surely make Captain one day if you keep on with such questions as that.”
The boy smiled at the compliment, chest swelling under the praise and Kris answered, “In truth, I did not have a moment to take my bearings until after I had struck down my fifth opponent. I was braced against the railings, with my own men surrounding me. I looked to the Captain and saw that he was in trouble. I looked for any friendly faces around him, for some aid to direct his way but we were, to a man, engaged. Knowing my duty, I moved to aid the Captain, and as I fought to get to his side, it was then that I felt his gaze. I was pulled to a stop for a fraction of a moment and when I looked up and over at The Madness, I saw him standing there, his piercing gaze pinning me to the deck.”
Kris stared out into the middle distance as he spoke, letting his memories free, “I remember him well, a mountain of a man- no, that is not right, a giant to be sure but lithe, strong but not thick as many strong men are. He was tall, taller than any man that I had met before that day, taller than any man that I have met since. He wore white, standing out against the darkness of the night, almost glowing under the green of the lights. Standing there, with a rope in one hand and a sword sharp enough to sunder heaven in the other, I was set to believe every rumour ever heard about him.”
“It was with an elegant grace that should not be achievable by a man of his stature that he swung across to The Hawk. Releasing the rope while still in the air, he landed on cat’s feet atop the timbers and set to work divesting our ship of its loyal crew,” Kris paused for a second, “His blade sang through the air, catching men as it swung. There was a deadly beauty to the stroke; each blow felled a loyal crewmate of The Hawk and still I could not pull my eyes from him. In the end, it was blood that tore my gaze away, my own blood for I had been caught by a skeleton blade,” Kris raised the sleeve of his shirt to show the boys the scar running along the meat of his forearm. They gasped. Kris ran a finger over the scar as he spoke, “I fought the abomination who had wounded me, and fought him hard, but I must admit that my attention was split. I kept eyes on the Pirate Captain as he made his way through our men, even as I fought to the Captain’s side.”
There was sadness in his voice as he spoke, “The decks were wet with blood, and I would swear most of it spilled by his hand, but he seemed to be above it. Indeed, not a drop of it dared to touch him. It was as if he stepped upon the very air rather than risk toe upon our ship. And still he watched me, eyes flicking to me between slashes of his sword. I knew I was marked for death that night and that it would come at the tip of his bloody blade.”
Kris clasped his hands together and looked up to the sky, “Dispatching my opponent, I opened my heart and prayed that the Virgin Mother keep me safe that night and guard over my own mother, sparing her from the loss of a child. But no sign came that my prayers were heard and still he moved across the deck. A wide slash split open two men though he spared them not a moment’s notice. The first, an able bodied seaman by the name of Jones, struggled to keep his guts where God had intended but the blow was such that he may as well have tried to empty the sea with a cup and with a sickening splash, they covered the deck. His mate was also in a poor state, cut deep enough that he may well have been two parts of the one man with only his backbone holding him together. They fell to stare lifelessly up to the night sky and still Lambert moved on, coming ever closer.”
“I blinked and he had stolen the life of another man, splitting this one tip to toe, gizzard to garters. My stomach rolled and I had to swallow down the bile that rose in my throat. I lost sight of him in that instant and no search uncovered him. Blood washed the deck red in ever increasing amounts, coming ever closer to where I stood. I backed away step by tentative step, until I hit an obstacle so solid that it may have been made from the hardest stone under Heaven,” Kris looked down at the boys, taking in their wide eyes and open mouths. Samuel hugged his leg now.
“I turned, sword swinging as I had been trained but it fell helplessly upon another blade, a blade wet with blood, a blade I knew well. Sapphire blue eyes looked down at me and I stumbled backwards. My footing unsteady already was made worse by the blood of comrades beneath my feet and I fell. He advanced on me, a look that would have carried lesser men down into the depths of Hell in his eye and I scrambled backwards, trying desperately to gain my feet. He swung his blade and I felt it slice clean through my shirt, leaving a trace of red behind. Grabbing my sword tightly, I attempted to catch his next strike but from my position it was impossible and my sword skittered away, my arm stinging from the shock of metal on metal. There was nothing behind me but an acre of deck and the bodies of comrades but still I did not give up. My fingers found a pistol, dropped by someone and thankfully still loaded. The grip was wet under my hands but I prayed that the powder would be dry.” Kris gestured with a hand, curling three fingers back to his palm to make a pistol. “My hand shook as I squeezed the trigger and I looked away as…”
“Kristopher Neil Allen, what in the Good Lord’s name do you think you’re doing? Telling stories like that to young children? Can you not see that you have scared them half to the grave?”
The boys jumped a foot clear into the age, with Samuel crying out in shock. Kris was no exception to the surprise and was startled to his feet, his hand reaching for his sword on reflex before he recognised the woman who had so deftly sneaked up behind him and was even now regarding him with a most cold look and her hands braced on her hips.
“Have you no defence, Mister Allen, or has your honeyed tongue deserted you?”
Kris ducked his head as his cheeks pinked under his fiancée’s gaze. Miss Katherine O’Connell - or Katy as she preferred her closest friends to call her - had a tongue sharper than a knife when she wanted and the last thing that Kris wished before setting sail was to be caught on the other side of it. With a gesture she shooed him back and took his seat, spreading her skirts on the box before gathering Samuel to her.
“Oh my darling child, did the story scare you?” she asked as she cuddled the young boy to her bosom.
Kris allowed her a moment to mother Samuel as he plucked his coat from the wooden block that had been its coat hook and pulled it on, straightening the dark blue jacket and tweaking the cuffs until he was again presentable. He untucked the wrapped queue of brown hair that had been caught beneath the neck of the jacket and debated whether or not to wear his hat, but decided that it was not proper in the company of his fiancée, no matter how unsettled his hair was.
When he looked back, he saw Samuel still pressed to his fiancée’s chest, with such a smile on his face that Kris needed to bite his lip to stifle the smile that threatened. When she pulled him back and asked whether he was still scared, he simply nodded and dived back into her embrace. The boys around nudged each other and smirked at the display and Kris’s smile changed to an unhappy moue.
Glancing behind Katy to her ever present maidservant, he implored the woman to take a hand in the situation. She inclined her head and touched Katy’s shoulder to gain her attention.
“Ma’am, I’m sure these boys have chores that they need to attend to before the ship sets sail. We should not keep them from their duties.”
Katy looked up at the older woman and smiled, “You’re right of course, Ellie.”
Giving Samuel another hug, she released him, much to his displeasure. The boys bowed their heads, touching their crooked forefingers to their foreheads as they walked past her, making their way to the ship and Mister Mills. Samuel was almost gone when he turned on his heel and ran back to give Katy a quick peck on the cheek.
Katy smiled indulgently and waved him off, Ellie clucking in displeasure behind her. But the smile was back on Kris’ face. The boy was a charmer to be sure, his first time at sea and already leaving women in tears in his wake. In honesty, Kris could not begrudge him the comfort of a woman’s arms, even if it was his fiancée. The lad had lost his mother some months previous and with his father a drunkard layabout, the only choices that had been left to him were a life at sea or scraps at the poorhouse. He just wished that he had not been so blatant at his attempts for affection in front of the other boys.
“You shouldn’t tell them such tales, Kris,” Katy turned to him, her face sad. “It does them no good to scare them so.”
“Katy,” Kris started, “They are boys, and boys will be boys. If it is not me telling the tales, they will only make up worse, or the crew will tell them after dusk. They have been through worse, some of them and will again, I fear.”
“Kris...” her words faded out. It was a full minute before she spoke again, “Is it so very dangerous out there?”
Kris weighed what to tell her; the truth, unvarnished and absolute or the easy lie that she would prefer. It was a moot question. Since their childhoods, Kris had not uttered a single lie to Katy and he would not start now.
“It has its dangers, yes. But we are a good ship and a better crew.”
“You will return to me, won’t you?” her gaze was on the ground and Kris crouched before her and took her hands in his.
“Of course I will, love.”
As he looked into her face, he saw the first tear making its way down her cheek. She was beautiful, with golden blonde hair and blue eyes the colour of a shallow sea in the sunlight and he could not stand to see her cry.
“Katherine, love, what is wrong? Why do you cry?”
He looked from her to her maid and back again. Ellie’s mouth was set in a thin, hard line of displeasure, but her gaze was not on him, which worried him all the more. He had crossed the maid before and barely lived to tell of it. He recognised the look upon her face and was thankful that he was not the cause of it, but it left him with questions as to what had Katy so upset and Ellie so angered.
“Tell me, Katy, please,” he didn’t plead but it was a close run thing.
“Miss Katherine, you must,” Ellie placed a hand on Katy’s shoulder and her voice hardened, “The man cannot guess and we do not have such time as to allow him the time to name everything under the sky.”
Kris could take it as an offense but he knew Ellie well enough to realise that the woman’s words were aimed more at Katy than at him. Whatever had Katy in tears must be serious indeed for the maid to take such a tactic.
“He’s going to break the engagement,” Katy blurted out the words, her hands tightening on Kris’, tightening to the point of pain. “God help me, Kris, he’s going to break it.”
Kris rocked back on his heels, his jaw dropping, “What? But he cannot. He signed the agreement papers. I was there. To annul the engagement would put him at penalty. My father...”
Katy squeezed his hand to get his attention, “My father is a powerful man, with powerful friends. You know that as well as I.”
“And my father is Commander of the Garrison here and rumour puts him as Governor by the end of the year,” Kris argued. “If your father moves to annul the engagement, my father will hold him to account.”
“And account is all that it will be. Your father will be given coin aplenty and paid off and I will be...” her voice stuttered to a stop. “And I will be at his mercy.”
“I will not see it happen, Katy. My word upon it,” Kris promised, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand in comforting circles. “Tell me, how did you find the plot?”
It was Ellie who answered, “Geoffrey was present while Mister O’Connell spoke of the matter to another man and was instructed to deliver, or have delivered, several letters to men about the city and county.”
Geoffrey, one of the servants in Katy’s father’s house, had been a constant figure in Katy’s life growing up, more so than her own father had ever been and Kris knew that the man looked on Katy as a daughter. But for him to break his loyalty to Katy’s father and tell her of such a plan was... It was unthinkable. Such a warning could only mean that the fellows to whom Katy’s father spoke must be the blackest of knaves, scoundrels and rakes with only their money to separate them from the scum they were. Kris could not leave her to that fate.
“The agreement between your father and I said that we would wait until I was granted either the rank of First Lieutenant or The Hawk was put to rest and its crew scattered,” Kris recalled, “The Captain has it on good authority that the Admiralty has plans to expand the fleet in the Americas in the next few months and he is to be granted a Commodore’s rank, which means that there will be a shuffle between the ships. All we need to do is hold out until then, Katy love. Just a little longer.”
She shook her head, “I do not think...” Her words were caught and she tried again, “He means to do it while you are at sea, Kris. By the time you reach shore, I will be wed to some hideous ogre. Swapped for land or money or both. Traded as a commodity just as he did to Sarah. May the Lord have mercy upon her soul.”
Kris took a deep breath. He remembered well what happened to Sarah, Katy’s older sister. The doctor had called it an accident but the bruises about her face and throat had left little doubt in anyone’s mind that the doctor had been bought by Mister O’Connell to cover his crimes and given words to say when asked. Kris had held Katy close during the funeral, not caring what any idle tongue had to say on the matter, and almost laid out her father when he had threatened Katy with the ill words to mind her actions lest she know every pain that Sarah had felt before her life was snuffed out. To say that Katy was scared of such a fate was to understate the case. It was partly the reason behind their hasty engagement.
“Katy, dearest, I promised you then, and I promise you now that such a fate will never befall you,” Kris moved to sit beside her and gather her into his arms. He gently placed kisses upon her brow and whispered sweet words in her ear to calm her. “We do not sail for another hour and I swear to you that I shall have plans in place before that time...” He trailed off, a thought suddenly occurring to him. “Katy, what say you we put a sty in the ointment right now. I’m sure that if I explained the situation that the Captain would marry us. Here and now.”
Katy pulled back and looked at him, a frown upon her brow, “And have you leave me standing on the dock with nothing but a ring and your surname? No.” she sighed, “I doubt that it would work anyway. My father would have it annulled as soon as your ship left the shore,” she shook her head. “Besides, it would break your mother’s heart and I would be in disgrace. Tongues would wag about the suddenness and everyone about would be watching for the rise of my belly.”
He had to admit that her assessment was accurate, “You are most probably right, love.” He thought for a moment, trying to determine a course of action that would best protect his fiancée. He chewed on his lip thoughtfully, “Then, why not let us simply eliminate your father from the situation entirely. Move to my father’s house. No one would talk. It is not uncommon for the engaged to move to her betrothed’s house while awaiting the wedding when he is not there. My mother already loves you and would welcome the company. With Daniel at sea and father spending so much time at the Garrison, it would be ideal.”
Katy shook her head, “That would leave my mother to my father’s tender care with none to stand between them. She does not have the strength to suffer through his displeasure. She’s fragile, Kris, too fragile. I do not know if I can, in good conscience leave her there undefended.”
Kris’ face showed his disappointment at himself for not considering her situation before now and being forced to decide on a course of action with the hourglass running empty.
“I am sorry, Kris,” she spoke softly, and Kris gathered her close, “I do not mean to turn down every suggestion.”
Kris touched a finger to her lips, silencing her apology, “Do not trouble yourself over that, love, we will find a way.”
There was a muttering behind and Kris twisted to look back at Ellie who was rolling her eyes to Heaven.
“You have a suggestion, Ellie?” Kris asked, eager to hear what the matron had to say.
“Begging your pardon, Mister Allen, but it is obvious that you are used to dealing with dire situations,” she quirked the corner of her lip, “Perhaps if you consider a less drastic course of action. I know it’s not my place...”
“Please, Ellie, if you have an idea, please share it,” Katy reached out a hand to her maid and grasped it tight.
“Well,” she looked hesitant, and Katy bade her continue, “You’re borrowing trouble before it ever finds you. You have Geoffrey and me watching out for you. Cook too and some of the older folk. We all know who can be trusted in the house and who can’t. We’ll watch out for signs that your father is starting discussions and well, sir, if the offer is still open, perhaps then Miss Katherine could be invited by your mother to spend some time with her. None would bat an eyelid at a woman such as Missus Allen wanting some daughterly companionship, especially given that Commander Allen is so busy up at the Garrison.”
“That would work, and hopefully keep your father from his suspicions,” Kris mulled it over, “But we could not use it too often. If your father even thinks that we...”
Katy cut across him, “If he does, then we go with your plan and I ask your mother for sanctuary.”
Kris nodded, “You promise me that at the first sign of trouble you will run.”
“I will.”
“And that if he should raise hand to you, you will tell my father.” Katy started to protest, but Kris held up a hand, “No, Katy, this is not negotiable. I will not have him treat you worse than his hounds. If he so much as touches you, you are to leave and tell my father the reason behind it. He will give you his protection until I return.”
Katy looked him deep in the eye and saw the seriousness there. Nodding, she agreed.
“Ellie, I will have your word also,” Kris looked up at the maid.
“You have it, sir,” she nodded, her face serious and Kris knew that if the woman had to drag Katy out shrieking like a fishwife that she would do it and without a second’s hesitation.
“Very well then,” Kris looked back to Katy, “It is decided. I will send a note to my father and tell him of the situation before we set sail tonight. He will inform my mother to expect your arrival.”
Katy pressed close to his side and kissed him on the cheek, “My knight saviour.”
Kris blushed at the praise and stammered out nonsense.
“Mister Allen,” a voice shouted from down the dock and Kris looked up to see Mister Mills waving to attract his attention. “Captain Forester sends his regards and wishes to see his senior officers in his wardroom forthwith.”
Kris acknowledged the order and watched Mister Mills make his way back towards the gang plank and The Hawk.
“I have to...” Kris let the words trail off.
Katy nodded and took a deep breath, forcing a smile onto her face, “I should go too. It’s getting late.”
“Quite,” Kris agreed.
Katy leaned in for one last embrace, one last kiss on his cheek before pulling back.
“Take care of yourself out there. If I have to go out to sea to teach those damnable pirates a lesson, then I will.”
Kris laughed and stood, offering a hand to help Katy to her feet.
“There is no pirate on the seas brave enough to face you down, love. Not a one,” he assured her, “So I shall be quite safe. I will return as soon as I am able, Katy.”
She was on the verge of tears again, but fighting bravely, “If you make port in Boston or are granted shore leave on some beautiful Caribbean island, will you pick up a trinket for me?”
“Of course, love.”
They separated, with Katy turning on her heel and walking away before the tears in her eyes made their way down her cheeks again. Crying once in an evening was her limit and Kris knew that she could not stand for him to think her weak.
Kris gestured to Ellie to pause a second and dug through his pocket pulling out a bundle of paper notes. He plucked about half the papers from the bundle and rolled them tight before pushing them into Ellie’s hand. She looked down at the roll, eyes widening as she recognised it as about ten pounds. She protested and tried to return the money until Kris ordered her to take it. For emergencies. She quieted down at that and tucked the money into a pocket in the lining of her cloak. Nodding once, she wished him safe voyage and was off on the heels of her mistress.
Kris watched until they had vanished amongst the busy crowds of the streets then turned towards the berth where The Hawk was docked. He tucked the money away and placed his cap upon his head, straightening it as best he could. He hunted through his pockets for a plain piece of paper but nothing came to hand. He was aboard before he found paper and something with which to write. He quickly penned a note to his father warning him of Mister O’Connell’s treachery and the plan he hoped to hatch and sealed it.
“Samuel?” he called and the boy came running.
Kris drew two shillings from his pocket and held them up in front of the boy. The boy’s eyes followed the coins as they moved.
“I have need of a fast runner to deliver a message. Do you know of someone who would be able for the task?” He could see eagerness in the boy’s eyes and scruffed his hair, “Do you know the white house just beside the Town Hall?”
The boy nodded.
“I need you to deliver this note there. Knock on the front door and when the man answers it, tell him that it’s from Lieutenant Allen.”
The boy repeated the words carefully and Kris handed over one of the shillings.
“On the way back, I want you to stop in the general mercantile and ask the merchant for a shilling’s worth of boiled sweets. Do you understand?” Kris asked and smiled as the boy nodded. Kris held up the other shilling, “And I’m sure that you can find something to do with this.”
Samuel nodded earnestly.
“Best be off, we set sail shortly and you don’t want to miss the boat.”
Samuel shook his head and darted off, running down the gangplank and weaving in and out through the crowds as only a young boy can. Kris smiled to the boatswain, “The exuberance of youth, eh, Mister Mills.”
The boatswain smiled and Kris checked the tide marks and the angle of the sun before descending the stairs below decks to attend the Captain. Worry still gnawed at his stomach and he feared for Katy, but he had done all that he could. He placed his trust in his father, his mother and the Almighty and took a deep breath, trying to push it out of his mind before knocking on the Captain’s door.
“Enter!”
Kris straightened his jacket and pulled open the door, stepping through and tugging the door closed behind him.
Next Chapter >>>
Author:
deannawolArtist:
husariaagatkaType: Historical AU
Word Count: ~ 101,000
Rating: Mature
Characters/Pairings: Adam Lambert/Kris Allen; David Cook/David Archuleta; Cale Mills; Brad Bell; Katy O’Connell;
Warnings Slash (M/M) relationship(s), oral sex, violence, graphic descriptions, language used in the 18th century (i.e. period specific terms which may be deemed racist), whipping used as punishment and in a non-BDSM environment.
~#~#~
Charles Towne Harbour, Charles Towne, Carolina
“Come closer, boys, and I’ll tell you a tale. Not one of the long, rambling stories told by drunk men in the tavern, of pirates and treasure, but a true accounting of terror and murder, of blood and gore and the darkest of men.”
The boys, not one older than fourteen, edged closer to Lieutenant Allen, leaning in expectantly. They were a mix of powder monkeys and cabin boys with a newly appointed ensign sitting in. Some were new, brought along by the more experienced boys who knew that one of Mister Allen’s stories beat the wrath of Mister Mills, the Boatswain. It was a part of an agreement that the Lieutenant had with the Boatswain and the Purser to keep the boys occupied while he restocked their ship, The Hawk, and in truth, Kris enjoyed telling the boys of his adventures on the seas, imaginary though many of them were. This was a much better way to pass time until the tide turned than making busy work aboard ship and getting in the men’s way. They knew what they had to do even better than he, and if the littles were to wander among the cargo, then there would sure be an accident.
Kris looked around, as if searching for any man standing on the pier taking too hearty an interest, before continuing, “You will not hear this from some old sea dog who sits beside the fire, spinning a yarn in the hopes of someone buying them another watered down cup of grog. This is no false rumour spun into ever growing tales that shift and change with every murmur of the crowd. No. My tale is true, boys, upon my very honour. True as I am sitting here in front of you now.”
The boys nudged each other and smiled. The younger ones hid in the shadows of the older lads but that would change soon enough.
Kris shook his head, letting his voice fall, “Indeed, I wish that it were not the case, for still it haunts my dreams and edges into my nightmares and sets my blood to ice, but as we put to sea, I would have you know the dangers that you will face out there on the waves.”
Wide eyes from the younger boys and smiles from their elders pushed him on, “The night of which I speak happened shortly after I had been made up to Lieutenant, a little over five years ago now. We had sailed out of Charles Towne that day, bound for Barbuda, a small enough island but a troubled one,” he explained, “There were reports of pirates, you see, sailing the waters between the Americas and the Caribbean islands, capturing any ship that they happened to cross wakes with and putting their crews to the sword. That by itself is not noteworthy,” he shook his head. “The ocean is vast and we all know well that pirates sail the seas even now. But this was different. These were bloodthirsty brutes by all reports, cursed by the devil himself to sail the seas wreaking havoc and leaving widows in their wake, but that was just hearsay and tavern gossip for no man had survived the encounter.”
“We were well to sea when the captain ordered the watches. I was assigned to Middle Watch, never a rewarding watch as it breaks the back of both the night and the man standing it, but I was excited. You see, this was my first watch without an officer standing over me and I trembled with nerves even as I looked forward to the duty assigned me.” He paused to look out to the harbour, to where the sun was dipping ever lower, staring into middle distance as he continued his tale, “The moon was in hiding that night, missing from the sky and,” he sighed, “I suppose that that should have been an omen but in my youth, I laughed it off. I remember now that it had been a mild day and an even milder night, with scarcely a breeze blowing. The crew were abed an hour before the midnight bell rang. It was just Old John on the deck with me. Old John kept us to course with a deft hand on the helm as I walked the railings, eyes on the sea watching for the first hint of sail or trouble. He’d been aboard ships his whole life and I have my suspicions that the captain told him to keep an eye on me that night. Indeed I was glad of it, for trouble would stalk us that night and Lord knows that without him, I would not be standing here to tell you this tale.”
There were gasps from the boys and Kris smiled. The littles looked to their older crewmates and saw them nodding. Old John was a good man, an old sea dog, with a temperament to match but finer man never stood in shoe leather and Kris was glad that he was so well remembered by the boys even though he had left the world two years previous.
“I had just made my way from the bow of the ship down towards the aft when all at once, a wind picked up, blasting gusts through the rigging and making the sails flap with such a crack that it sounded as if we had ridden into the depths of a storm, with thunder splitting the sky. Winches collided with masts, hard enough to leave dents in the solid timber. The rigging snapped taut, whipping back and forth like a cat o’ nine tails swung by a hard boatswain’s arm,” Kris gestured with a hand, snapping it left and right. The boys followed his movements with their eyes. “Keeping my wits about me, I ducked the lines as I ran back towards the wheel, dodging this way and that to avoid the ropes. It was then that I noticed the sea, still calm as you like, calm as ever it had been. I crossed myself in that instant for it was then that I knew that it was an ill wind and that this night would not go easy on us.”
He paused before continuing, “I was almost to the steps up to the mizzen deck, when I heard Old John utter an oath so vile that I believed he must be dying. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, skidding to a stop on the timbers but no injury could I see. I called for his report but he did not answer me, could not answer me for he stood stock still, his arm extended, his finger pointing to the sky,” Kris raised a single finger up, mimicking his words and the boys followed it.
“Against every ounce of will I possessed, I looked up, following his direction to stare at the sky. Twinkling in the night sky were the stars, heavenly hosts above us to guide our way. Nothing worthy of shock and awe, or so was my thought. I was about to express that very opinion to Old John when before my eyes, the North Star blinked out. Just like that, it was gone, and then it’s neighbour with it. Another and another disappeared, leaving only the blackest pitch in their wake.”
The boys looked between each other, and Kris saw the youngest boy, Samuel shift closer to him, gnawing his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes wide as dinner plates.
“The wind, in that second, gave one final deathly gust, whistling through the sails and then died as suddenly as it had started.” Kris leaned in closer, and dropped his voice to just above a whisper making the boys lean in further to hear his words, “Silence followed on behind that last breath and nothingness on its heels. The night was dead around us and for a second I thought that I had been struck deaf. There was no sound, not even the steady lap of the waves against the hull. I heard Old John mutter a blessing under his breath and the relief that I felt was solid. But my relief died quickly. With only the light of a handful of lanterns to see by, it seemed as though we had been plucked from the world. And that was when we heard it. A bell. Ringing once, twice, thrice and then the silence again.”
“I rushed to the side of the ship, scanning what little of the horizon that I could make out, trying to spot land, for I was sure that somehow we were about to run aground. My mind knew that we were two hundred miles and more from the nearest shore but my heart, my heart would not be told.” He paused again and let his voice drop, “You see, the bell sounded exactly like a church bell knelling out notice of a funeral, slow and steady. It came again, clear and sharp, but with it this time came the first wisps of aether. Curling over the tops of the waves, it rode closer and closer until it licked at the timbers of the ship, climbing the sides to run across the deck. I backed away, afraid that should it touch me it would pull me down into the deepest, darkest Hell. A deathly chill settled over the ship and with each breath, more mist joined the wisps around my feet. I crossed myself again and started to say a prayer to the Virgin but Old John’s hand rested atop my shoulder. He looked down at me and with a weathered voice said ‘The Lord and his mother have turned a blind eye this night. Prayers are for naught. Old Nick rides the waves.’” Kris croaked out the words before returning to his own voice, “I wanted to think him mad, but I knew it was truth that he was speaking.”
“The mists rose higher with each passing minute and still the bell tolled. We could not, either of us, tear our eyes from the depths of the fog and fear clenched tight around our hearts as we saw deep in the depths of the fog, a green light,” Kris reached out as if to touch the memory. “Ethereal and beautiful it crept closer, sending waves of terror before it as it approached. I could hear the creak of rigging and knew that the light must be from a ship though I could not make it out. Siren song called to us and froze us in place. Whispers rose from the fog, calling us closer but we could not move. Even if we had wanted to, it was as if our feet were one with the deck.”
Zachery, one of the older boys, reached out and drew a cold iron nail across the back of Samuel’s neck and the poor boy jumped a foot, crying out in terror. Kris cast a withering look at Zachery and the child ducked his head, smile still on his lips. Samuel shifted closer to Kris, his little hand pressed to Kris’ boot as he put the other on his neck. Shivers still ran through the boy and Kris patted him on the shoulder.
“We could make out the lines of the ship as it approached,” he continued. “Sails darker than the devil’s soul, blacker than the night sky above us. Pendants caught a breeze high on the masts and even in the dark, I could see their colour. Red. A deep crimson that set fear running through me. As we watched, the ship turned to come alongside us and as it did, I saw a sight that quickened my heart. A flag, the ship’s colours. Red as the pendants, red as fresh spilled blood and on it a skull sitting on a bone crossed with a sword.”
The boys gasped. They knew well the description as did all hereabouts in Charles Towne. Though the governor forbade it, many pirates made port here, swapping their customary colours for less provoking flags on their way in, but on the way out to sea again, they taunted the good folk of Charles Towne by flying their despicable flags, and while these colours had not been seen in the port for many a year, the older boys would know well the stories.
Kris played on what little they knew, “Legends in these parts whisper the tales of a ship that travels with black sails and a flag such as that but, in truth, I had believed them to be little more than stories. The conjurations of men too deep in the bottle, but that night, I found that I was wrong. For before us was The Madness, captained by the most feared pirate in these parts. It’s said that the Master of The Madness walks the decks with Davy Jones at his right hand and Lucifer at his left.”
The boys crossed themselves, touching their foreheads, stomachs, shoulders and hearts with a speed that no priest would approve of, only to repeat it several more times.
“It’s said that there is a place carved out for him in Hell but that a pact with the Sea herself keeps him from the Judgement that he so richly deserves. I do not know the truth of that but one thing is true and certain, and that is that widows up and down the coast curse the name of Captain Lambert, for stealing away their husbands, casting them down into the depths for the folly of opposing him.”
The younger boys looked to the older boys for confirmation and were rewarded with nods.
“I swear to you now, boys, that when I looked upon that evil flag that night, my heart near stopped beating as fear and terror knotted themselves to my spine and settled in my stomach. But that was not the entirety of it,” he shook his head, “Far from it. Standing on the deck opposite us, armed with swords and pistols were a ghostly crew. Brought forth by some arcane trickery no doubt, dead men faced us down.” The boys gasped but Kris did not slow in his telling of the tale, “Bones bleached white by salt winds, grinning widely at us and beckoning us to come closer. I stepped back and back and stumbled against the rigging, cracking my head against the main mast. Maybe the Lord was on my side, or maybe it was just divine provenance but the blow was enough to knock some wits into me and I opened my mouth to raise the alarm. No words came at first but I was relentless, running for the alarm bell and striking it hard as I was able and it was not a moment before cries of distress were heard across the ship.”
“Footsteps rang out in the silence and I knew that my voice and the bell had carried. The captain came first and stopped beside me. He asked me for my report but his eye caught the other ship before I could reply. He ordered the crew to stations while dead men watched and mocked. The captain gave the signal to fire cannon and not even a minute later, shot sailed through the skies to the boat opposite. We waited with baited breath for the smoke to clear, hoping, praying that our cannon had been true. And praise the Lord they had! Broken and scattered, our enemies were spread across the deck.”
The boys cheered and Samuel smiled up at Kris. Kris paused long enough to ruffle the lad’s hair before continuing, his voice dropping low again.
“We had thought that was an end to it, that with a single volley of our cannon that we had defeated the dread pirate and his crew. I looked to the captain and saw a smile on his face. But that smile faded and died when we heard the cry from the other ship as from below decks, there came pouring out a multitude more men, each as unnatural as the twice dead crew that stood on deck only moments before,” Kris shook his head, “There was no time to brace as they grabbed ropes and swung over, too cowardly to even attempt to match us with guns for they knew we would outmatch them in every way. Without hesitation, I drew my sword and prepared to engage.”
Kris sighed mournfully, “My father warned me when I was much younger of the dangers of swordfights but never one word had he said, nor instruction had he given, concerning how one goes about fighting a man with no flesh. I fought like a man possessed, so focused was I on defeating these abominations, slicing and parrying the blade that whistled close to my ear, slashing and kicking, hoping for a lucky strike and with the Lord’s blessing, I bested my first man,” Kris mimed his actions out and boys ducked his imaginary blade, “But no sooner than I had lowered my sword to take a steadying breath than another was upon me. And another stepped forward as his mate was put down and so it continued. I ducked and weaved through the hoards, sending these dead men back to their Maker. And I was not alone. No. The crew, every man of them, fought and fought but for every man we put down, there seemed to be two more just waiting to cross swords with us.”
A quiet voice from beside his foot, Samuel, asked, “What about Captain Lambert?”
Kris smiled, and scruffed the boys hair again, “Such a question, Samuel. You will surely make Captain one day if you keep on with such questions as that.”
The boy smiled at the compliment, chest swelling under the praise and Kris answered, “In truth, I did not have a moment to take my bearings until after I had struck down my fifth opponent. I was braced against the railings, with my own men surrounding me. I looked to the Captain and saw that he was in trouble. I looked for any friendly faces around him, for some aid to direct his way but we were, to a man, engaged. Knowing my duty, I moved to aid the Captain, and as I fought to get to his side, it was then that I felt his gaze. I was pulled to a stop for a fraction of a moment and when I looked up and over at The Madness, I saw him standing there, his piercing gaze pinning me to the deck.”
Kris stared out into the middle distance as he spoke, letting his memories free, “I remember him well, a mountain of a man- no, that is not right, a giant to be sure but lithe, strong but not thick as many strong men are. He was tall, taller than any man that I had met before that day, taller than any man that I have met since. He wore white, standing out against the darkness of the night, almost glowing under the green of the lights. Standing there, with a rope in one hand and a sword sharp enough to sunder heaven in the other, I was set to believe every rumour ever heard about him.”
“It was with an elegant grace that should not be achievable by a man of his stature that he swung across to The Hawk. Releasing the rope while still in the air, he landed on cat’s feet atop the timbers and set to work divesting our ship of its loyal crew,” Kris paused for a second, “His blade sang through the air, catching men as it swung. There was a deadly beauty to the stroke; each blow felled a loyal crewmate of The Hawk and still I could not pull my eyes from him. In the end, it was blood that tore my gaze away, my own blood for I had been caught by a skeleton blade,” Kris raised the sleeve of his shirt to show the boys the scar running along the meat of his forearm. They gasped. Kris ran a finger over the scar as he spoke, “I fought the abomination who had wounded me, and fought him hard, but I must admit that my attention was split. I kept eyes on the Pirate Captain as he made his way through our men, even as I fought to the Captain’s side.”
There was sadness in his voice as he spoke, “The decks were wet with blood, and I would swear most of it spilled by his hand, but he seemed to be above it. Indeed, not a drop of it dared to touch him. It was as if he stepped upon the very air rather than risk toe upon our ship. And still he watched me, eyes flicking to me between slashes of his sword. I knew I was marked for death that night and that it would come at the tip of his bloody blade.”
Kris clasped his hands together and looked up to the sky, “Dispatching my opponent, I opened my heart and prayed that the Virgin Mother keep me safe that night and guard over my own mother, sparing her from the loss of a child. But no sign came that my prayers were heard and still he moved across the deck. A wide slash split open two men though he spared them not a moment’s notice. The first, an able bodied seaman by the name of Jones, struggled to keep his guts where God had intended but the blow was such that he may as well have tried to empty the sea with a cup and with a sickening splash, they covered the deck. His mate was also in a poor state, cut deep enough that he may well have been two parts of the one man with only his backbone holding him together. They fell to stare lifelessly up to the night sky and still Lambert moved on, coming ever closer.”
“I blinked and he had stolen the life of another man, splitting this one tip to toe, gizzard to garters. My stomach rolled and I had to swallow down the bile that rose in my throat. I lost sight of him in that instant and no search uncovered him. Blood washed the deck red in ever increasing amounts, coming ever closer to where I stood. I backed away step by tentative step, until I hit an obstacle so solid that it may have been made from the hardest stone under Heaven,” Kris looked down at the boys, taking in their wide eyes and open mouths. Samuel hugged his leg now.
“I turned, sword swinging as I had been trained but it fell helplessly upon another blade, a blade wet with blood, a blade I knew well. Sapphire blue eyes looked down at me and I stumbled backwards. My footing unsteady already was made worse by the blood of comrades beneath my feet and I fell. He advanced on me, a look that would have carried lesser men down into the depths of Hell in his eye and I scrambled backwards, trying desperately to gain my feet. He swung his blade and I felt it slice clean through my shirt, leaving a trace of red behind. Grabbing my sword tightly, I attempted to catch his next strike but from my position it was impossible and my sword skittered away, my arm stinging from the shock of metal on metal. There was nothing behind me but an acre of deck and the bodies of comrades but still I did not give up. My fingers found a pistol, dropped by someone and thankfully still loaded. The grip was wet under my hands but I prayed that the powder would be dry.” Kris gestured with a hand, curling three fingers back to his palm to make a pistol. “My hand shook as I squeezed the trigger and I looked away as…”
“Kristopher Neil Allen, what in the Good Lord’s name do you think you’re doing? Telling stories like that to young children? Can you not see that you have scared them half to the grave?”
The boys jumped a foot clear into the age, with Samuel crying out in shock. Kris was no exception to the surprise and was startled to his feet, his hand reaching for his sword on reflex before he recognised the woman who had so deftly sneaked up behind him and was even now regarding him with a most cold look and her hands braced on her hips.
“Have you no defence, Mister Allen, or has your honeyed tongue deserted you?”
Kris ducked his head as his cheeks pinked under his fiancée’s gaze. Miss Katherine O’Connell - or Katy as she preferred her closest friends to call her - had a tongue sharper than a knife when she wanted and the last thing that Kris wished before setting sail was to be caught on the other side of it. With a gesture she shooed him back and took his seat, spreading her skirts on the box before gathering Samuel to her.
“Oh my darling child, did the story scare you?” she asked as she cuddled the young boy to her bosom.
Kris allowed her a moment to mother Samuel as he plucked his coat from the wooden block that had been its coat hook and pulled it on, straightening the dark blue jacket and tweaking the cuffs until he was again presentable. He untucked the wrapped queue of brown hair that had been caught beneath the neck of the jacket and debated whether or not to wear his hat, but decided that it was not proper in the company of his fiancée, no matter how unsettled his hair was.
When he looked back, he saw Samuel still pressed to his fiancée’s chest, with such a smile on his face that Kris needed to bite his lip to stifle the smile that threatened. When she pulled him back and asked whether he was still scared, he simply nodded and dived back into her embrace. The boys around nudged each other and smirked at the display and Kris’s smile changed to an unhappy moue.
Glancing behind Katy to her ever present maidservant, he implored the woman to take a hand in the situation. She inclined her head and touched Katy’s shoulder to gain her attention.
“Ma’am, I’m sure these boys have chores that they need to attend to before the ship sets sail. We should not keep them from their duties.”
Katy looked up at the older woman and smiled, “You’re right of course, Ellie.”
Giving Samuel another hug, she released him, much to his displeasure. The boys bowed their heads, touching their crooked forefingers to their foreheads as they walked past her, making their way to the ship and Mister Mills. Samuel was almost gone when he turned on his heel and ran back to give Katy a quick peck on the cheek.
Katy smiled indulgently and waved him off, Ellie clucking in displeasure behind her. But the smile was back on Kris’ face. The boy was a charmer to be sure, his first time at sea and already leaving women in tears in his wake. In honesty, Kris could not begrudge him the comfort of a woman’s arms, even if it was his fiancée. The lad had lost his mother some months previous and with his father a drunkard layabout, the only choices that had been left to him were a life at sea or scraps at the poorhouse. He just wished that he had not been so blatant at his attempts for affection in front of the other boys.
“You shouldn’t tell them such tales, Kris,” Katy turned to him, her face sad. “It does them no good to scare them so.”
“Katy,” Kris started, “They are boys, and boys will be boys. If it is not me telling the tales, they will only make up worse, or the crew will tell them after dusk. They have been through worse, some of them and will again, I fear.”
“Kris...” her words faded out. It was a full minute before she spoke again, “Is it so very dangerous out there?”
Kris weighed what to tell her; the truth, unvarnished and absolute or the easy lie that she would prefer. It was a moot question. Since their childhoods, Kris had not uttered a single lie to Katy and he would not start now.
“It has its dangers, yes. But we are a good ship and a better crew.”
“You will return to me, won’t you?” her gaze was on the ground and Kris crouched before her and took her hands in his.
“Of course I will, love.”
As he looked into her face, he saw the first tear making its way down her cheek. She was beautiful, with golden blonde hair and blue eyes the colour of a shallow sea in the sunlight and he could not stand to see her cry.
“Katherine, love, what is wrong? Why do you cry?”
He looked from her to her maid and back again. Ellie’s mouth was set in a thin, hard line of displeasure, but her gaze was not on him, which worried him all the more. He had crossed the maid before and barely lived to tell of it. He recognised the look upon her face and was thankful that he was not the cause of it, but it left him with questions as to what had Katy so upset and Ellie so angered.
“Tell me, Katy, please,” he didn’t plead but it was a close run thing.
“Miss Katherine, you must,” Ellie placed a hand on Katy’s shoulder and her voice hardened, “The man cannot guess and we do not have such time as to allow him the time to name everything under the sky.”
Kris could take it as an offense but he knew Ellie well enough to realise that the woman’s words were aimed more at Katy than at him. Whatever had Katy in tears must be serious indeed for the maid to take such a tactic.
“He’s going to break the engagement,” Katy blurted out the words, her hands tightening on Kris’, tightening to the point of pain. “God help me, Kris, he’s going to break it.”
Kris rocked back on his heels, his jaw dropping, “What? But he cannot. He signed the agreement papers. I was there. To annul the engagement would put him at penalty. My father...”
Katy squeezed his hand to get his attention, “My father is a powerful man, with powerful friends. You know that as well as I.”
“And my father is Commander of the Garrison here and rumour puts him as Governor by the end of the year,” Kris argued. “If your father moves to annul the engagement, my father will hold him to account.”
“And account is all that it will be. Your father will be given coin aplenty and paid off and I will be...” her voice stuttered to a stop. “And I will be at his mercy.”
“I will not see it happen, Katy. My word upon it,” Kris promised, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand in comforting circles. “Tell me, how did you find the plot?”
It was Ellie who answered, “Geoffrey was present while Mister O’Connell spoke of the matter to another man and was instructed to deliver, or have delivered, several letters to men about the city and county.”
Geoffrey, one of the servants in Katy’s father’s house, had been a constant figure in Katy’s life growing up, more so than her own father had ever been and Kris knew that the man looked on Katy as a daughter. But for him to break his loyalty to Katy’s father and tell her of such a plan was... It was unthinkable. Such a warning could only mean that the fellows to whom Katy’s father spoke must be the blackest of knaves, scoundrels and rakes with only their money to separate them from the scum they were. Kris could not leave her to that fate.
“The agreement between your father and I said that we would wait until I was granted either the rank of First Lieutenant or The Hawk was put to rest and its crew scattered,” Kris recalled, “The Captain has it on good authority that the Admiralty has plans to expand the fleet in the Americas in the next few months and he is to be granted a Commodore’s rank, which means that there will be a shuffle between the ships. All we need to do is hold out until then, Katy love. Just a little longer.”
She shook her head, “I do not think...” Her words were caught and she tried again, “He means to do it while you are at sea, Kris. By the time you reach shore, I will be wed to some hideous ogre. Swapped for land or money or both. Traded as a commodity just as he did to Sarah. May the Lord have mercy upon her soul.”
Kris took a deep breath. He remembered well what happened to Sarah, Katy’s older sister. The doctor had called it an accident but the bruises about her face and throat had left little doubt in anyone’s mind that the doctor had been bought by Mister O’Connell to cover his crimes and given words to say when asked. Kris had held Katy close during the funeral, not caring what any idle tongue had to say on the matter, and almost laid out her father when he had threatened Katy with the ill words to mind her actions lest she know every pain that Sarah had felt before her life was snuffed out. To say that Katy was scared of such a fate was to understate the case. It was partly the reason behind their hasty engagement.
“Katy, dearest, I promised you then, and I promise you now that such a fate will never befall you,” Kris moved to sit beside her and gather her into his arms. He gently placed kisses upon her brow and whispered sweet words in her ear to calm her. “We do not sail for another hour and I swear to you that I shall have plans in place before that time...” He trailed off, a thought suddenly occurring to him. “Katy, what say you we put a sty in the ointment right now. I’m sure that if I explained the situation that the Captain would marry us. Here and now.”
Katy pulled back and looked at him, a frown upon her brow, “And have you leave me standing on the dock with nothing but a ring and your surname? No.” she sighed, “I doubt that it would work anyway. My father would have it annulled as soon as your ship left the shore,” she shook her head. “Besides, it would break your mother’s heart and I would be in disgrace. Tongues would wag about the suddenness and everyone about would be watching for the rise of my belly.”
He had to admit that her assessment was accurate, “You are most probably right, love.” He thought for a moment, trying to determine a course of action that would best protect his fiancée. He chewed on his lip thoughtfully, “Then, why not let us simply eliminate your father from the situation entirely. Move to my father’s house. No one would talk. It is not uncommon for the engaged to move to her betrothed’s house while awaiting the wedding when he is not there. My mother already loves you and would welcome the company. With Daniel at sea and father spending so much time at the Garrison, it would be ideal.”
Katy shook her head, “That would leave my mother to my father’s tender care with none to stand between them. She does not have the strength to suffer through his displeasure. She’s fragile, Kris, too fragile. I do not know if I can, in good conscience leave her there undefended.”
Kris’ face showed his disappointment at himself for not considering her situation before now and being forced to decide on a course of action with the hourglass running empty.
“I am sorry, Kris,” she spoke softly, and Kris gathered her close, “I do not mean to turn down every suggestion.”
Kris touched a finger to her lips, silencing her apology, “Do not trouble yourself over that, love, we will find a way.”
There was a muttering behind and Kris twisted to look back at Ellie who was rolling her eyes to Heaven.
“You have a suggestion, Ellie?” Kris asked, eager to hear what the matron had to say.
“Begging your pardon, Mister Allen, but it is obvious that you are used to dealing with dire situations,” she quirked the corner of her lip, “Perhaps if you consider a less drastic course of action. I know it’s not my place...”
“Please, Ellie, if you have an idea, please share it,” Katy reached out a hand to her maid and grasped it tight.
“Well,” she looked hesitant, and Katy bade her continue, “You’re borrowing trouble before it ever finds you. You have Geoffrey and me watching out for you. Cook too and some of the older folk. We all know who can be trusted in the house and who can’t. We’ll watch out for signs that your father is starting discussions and well, sir, if the offer is still open, perhaps then Miss Katherine could be invited by your mother to spend some time with her. None would bat an eyelid at a woman such as Missus Allen wanting some daughterly companionship, especially given that Commander Allen is so busy up at the Garrison.”
“That would work, and hopefully keep your father from his suspicions,” Kris mulled it over, “But we could not use it too often. If your father even thinks that we...”
Katy cut across him, “If he does, then we go with your plan and I ask your mother for sanctuary.”
Kris nodded, “You promise me that at the first sign of trouble you will run.”
“I will.”
“And that if he should raise hand to you, you will tell my father.” Katy started to protest, but Kris held up a hand, “No, Katy, this is not negotiable. I will not have him treat you worse than his hounds. If he so much as touches you, you are to leave and tell my father the reason behind it. He will give you his protection until I return.”
Katy looked him deep in the eye and saw the seriousness there. Nodding, she agreed.
“Ellie, I will have your word also,” Kris looked up at the maid.
“You have it, sir,” she nodded, her face serious and Kris knew that if the woman had to drag Katy out shrieking like a fishwife that she would do it and without a second’s hesitation.
“Very well then,” Kris looked back to Katy, “It is decided. I will send a note to my father and tell him of the situation before we set sail tonight. He will inform my mother to expect your arrival.”
Katy pressed close to his side and kissed him on the cheek, “My knight saviour.”
Kris blushed at the praise and stammered out nonsense.
“Mister Allen,” a voice shouted from down the dock and Kris looked up to see Mister Mills waving to attract his attention. “Captain Forester sends his regards and wishes to see his senior officers in his wardroom forthwith.”
Kris acknowledged the order and watched Mister Mills make his way back towards the gang plank and The Hawk.
“I have to...” Kris let the words trail off.
Katy nodded and took a deep breath, forcing a smile onto her face, “I should go too. It’s getting late.”
“Quite,” Kris agreed.
Katy leaned in for one last embrace, one last kiss on his cheek before pulling back.
“Take care of yourself out there. If I have to go out to sea to teach those damnable pirates a lesson, then I will.”
Kris laughed and stood, offering a hand to help Katy to her feet.
“There is no pirate on the seas brave enough to face you down, love. Not a one,” he assured her, “So I shall be quite safe. I will return as soon as I am able, Katy.”
She was on the verge of tears again, but fighting bravely, “If you make port in Boston or are granted shore leave on some beautiful Caribbean island, will you pick up a trinket for me?”
“Of course, love.”
They separated, with Katy turning on her heel and walking away before the tears in her eyes made their way down her cheeks again. Crying once in an evening was her limit and Kris knew that she could not stand for him to think her weak.
Kris gestured to Ellie to pause a second and dug through his pocket pulling out a bundle of paper notes. He plucked about half the papers from the bundle and rolled them tight before pushing them into Ellie’s hand. She looked down at the roll, eyes widening as she recognised it as about ten pounds. She protested and tried to return the money until Kris ordered her to take it. For emergencies. She quieted down at that and tucked the money into a pocket in the lining of her cloak. Nodding once, she wished him safe voyage and was off on the heels of her mistress.
Kris watched until they had vanished amongst the busy crowds of the streets then turned towards the berth where The Hawk was docked. He tucked the money away and placed his cap upon his head, straightening it as best he could. He hunted through his pockets for a plain piece of paper but nothing came to hand. He was aboard before he found paper and something with which to write. He quickly penned a note to his father warning him of Mister O’Connell’s treachery and the plan he hoped to hatch and sealed it.
“Samuel?” he called and the boy came running.
Kris drew two shillings from his pocket and held them up in front of the boy. The boy’s eyes followed the coins as they moved.
“I have need of a fast runner to deliver a message. Do you know of someone who would be able for the task?” He could see eagerness in the boy’s eyes and scruffed his hair, “Do you know the white house just beside the Town Hall?”
The boy nodded.
“I need you to deliver this note there. Knock on the front door and when the man answers it, tell him that it’s from Lieutenant Allen.”
The boy repeated the words carefully and Kris handed over one of the shillings.
“On the way back, I want you to stop in the general mercantile and ask the merchant for a shilling’s worth of boiled sweets. Do you understand?” Kris asked and smiled as the boy nodded. Kris held up the other shilling, “And I’m sure that you can find something to do with this.”
Samuel nodded earnestly.
“Best be off, we set sail shortly and you don’t want to miss the boat.”
Samuel shook his head and darted off, running down the gangplank and weaving in and out through the crowds as only a young boy can. Kris smiled to the boatswain, “The exuberance of youth, eh, Mister Mills.”
The boatswain smiled and Kris checked the tide marks and the angle of the sun before descending the stairs below decks to attend the Captain. Worry still gnawed at his stomach and he feared for Katy, but he had done all that he could. He placed his trust in his father, his mother and the Almighty and took a deep breath, trying to push it out of his mind before knocking on the Captain’s door.
“Enter!”
Kris straightened his jacket and pulled open the door, stepping through and tugging the door closed behind him.
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