funeral, Dagan was always close to Gabe like a protective angel or bodyguard. Yet he was at Maria’s hand whenever she needed him. The girl servants all seemed moonstruck when he was around. A few even looked upon him in a mischievous, tempting manner.
“He puts a spell on ‘em he does,” Anthony’s father, Lord Anthony had said half jokingly before his death.
The male servants were all polite but distant, seeming overly cautious when Dagan was about. In a hurried whisper one of Lord Anthony’s long time personal servants, a seaman who’d sailed with the old Admiral, had warned Anthony: “Be careful like, zur, ‘e see’s the future, ‘e does. ‘E talks to the ravens aye, zur. Seen ‘em at it, I have.” Fearing he’d be overheard, the old servant was so close Anthony could feel the man’s hot breath on his ear as he whispered in a barely audible voice. “‘E’s a soothsayer, zur, maybe ‘e’s even a sorcerer.”
“Huh,” snorted Anthony. His father had proclaimed Dagan a “damn’d fine seaman.”
“We’ll have to see about him being a sorcerer.”
Anthony had also been told of “The Vow.” Maria’s father would normally have been Gabe’s protector and confidant.
However, since the death of Maria’s and Dagan’s father, Dagan had taken his place by completing some ritual, and now he was Gabe’s protector. Therefore, wherever goeth Gabe, goeth Dagan, as long as he lived. Anthony had no doubt that Dagan would fill his vow of protection.
Anthony was sure this vow was behind their father’s desire for Gabe to be under his command.
“You’re getting a bargain,” Lord James Anthony had said just before he died. “Besides being a fine topman, Dagan’s got the best peepers I’ve ever seen.”
The coach rattled along toward Whitehall. Even at such an early hour the street was no longer deserted and appeared to be coming alive before Anthony and Gabe’s eyes. The coach’s driver let loose a stream of curses aimed at a pie-man who hadn’t moved his cart out of the coach’s way quick enough to suit the driver.
“Too fat and slow ‘e is, like as not ‘e’s been eating ‘is own wares I’d say, damn ‘em.”
A mob of ragged street urchins was making a peddler’s life hell as he tried to coax his old swayback nag on down the street amid other weary and sleepy-eyed beggars, clerks and shopkeepers. All were starting out a new day. Gabe looked up anxiously as the coach made a sharp turn and passed under the archway into the Admiralty courtyard. Gabe’s knuckles turned white grasping at the window handle as the coach’s wheels slipped on the dew- wet cobblestones and then came to a sudden halt in front of the Admiralty’s main entrance.
Anthony smiled at Gabe’s obvious fright, wondering what he was thinking as he visited The Admiralty for the first time.
A doorman opened the coach as soon as it stopped. He looked puzzled when his gaze first fell upon a midshipman. With the arrival of a crested private coach, the man was expecting more than a mere boy. He looked somewhat relieved when he looked further and saw Captain Anthony.
“This way my Lord,” the doorman said.
Anthony still hadn’t gotten used to the title. “Lord Anthony” had always meant his father. As the two followed the messenger up the steps and into the spacious entrance hall, Anthony could see Gabe was overcome with awe.
Out of nowhere a clerk appeared. “If you would be so kind as to wait in here, my Lord. His Lordship knows you’re here. He’s tying up a complicated matter and assures me he will be with you directly.”
The messenger turned to leave, and then paused in his stride, saying, “I’m sorry to hear about your father, my Lord. He was a good man, a good leader. If circumstances had been different, many believe he would have been First Lord.”
Gil nodded. “It’s good of you to remember.”
As the messenger left the small room, Anthony approached the small fireplace to warm his stiff and aching bones. As they waited, it dawned on Anthony that he and Gabe were waiting in one of the small private anterooms, not in one of the larger rooms that would he filled with unemployed half-pay captains, commanders and lieutenants, all looking for a berth or a command.
Anthony turned to Gabe who had thus far said nothing. Gabe was staring out the one window The cold February wind whipped against the windowpanes, and Gabe spoke.
“Wind’s picking up, temperature’s dropping, and it’s cloudy. It’ll probably snow tonight. Father would say ‘a night not fit for neither man nor beast and certainly not fit for a sailor.’”
Anthony and Gabe smiled, thinking of their father’s words. At that time, the messenger returned, “The First Lord will see you now, Lord Anthony.”
He hesitated, not wanting to offend Anthony, then found the right words. “Perhaps the young gentleman would like to take a turn through the halls, sir.” It was the messenger’s polite way of saying the room was needed for someone more important than a midshipman.
“I’ll wait outside with Dagan,” Gabe volunteered.
Anthony had forgotten Dagan, who had been sitting atop the coach with the driver. No doubt they had found a warm spot.
Lord Sandwich was staring out the window as Anthony entered.
“Gil-Lord Anthony, I should say-how are you?”
The two shook hands as old friends. Anthony had played cards with the First Lord on many occasions. He had also dined with him and his mistress here at the Admiralty. For a while Anthony had been a member, along with the First Lord, at the infamous Hellfire Club. Anthony knew without Sandwich ’s influence, the Navy would be in worse shape than it was. Many blamed Sandwich, but in fact the Prime Minister, Lord North, was responsible for most of the Navy’s shortcomings.
Leaving off the title, Sandwich said, “Ah Gil, Parliament is in love with you, my boy. Having saved the Honest John Convoy from those cutthroats has made you England ’s darling for the time. Front page of the Gazette, no less. But the truth be known, the reason for such a display of admiration as you received is because you saved a good many from financial ruin. That includes several members of Parliament, not the least of which is your brother-in-law. It was through his insistence that you were knighted so quickly, not only to honor you, but also something to make your father proud in his last days. By the bye, the Prince sends his regrets about your being herded through his Majesty’s court so fast. He would like some time to visit with you once our business is complete. Speaking of business, have you taken care of your father’s affairs?”
“Yes,” Anthony answered.
“You’ve met your brother?” inquired the First Lord. Anthony nodded. “He has the makings of a fine officer,” continued Lord Sandwich. “But watch out for him. Some will try, and may even succeed, in using him against you.”
Taken aback, Anthony, somewhat roused, asked, “In what way?”
“In many ways! Wherever there’s envy or jealously, wherever there is insult, real or imagined, people will try to hurt you through any means possible. Just be on guard, Lord Anthony. Be on guard.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Now for the business at hand. For several years now, grievances by the colonies have mounted. Most feel it’s only a time before verbal conflicts turn into open hostilities and war. There is growing concern in the House of Commons as to whether the Navy can maintain control of the seas if war does break out. It is most certain France and maybe even Spain will enter along with the colonies. You know how thin we are stretched now. This could be devastating. Right now privateers, who many in Parliament feel are in cahoots with the Colonials, are reeking havoc on our merchant ships.
“This is not to mention the damned blackguards who have allegiance to no country. These damned pirates are a menace. They prey upon the trade lanes in the Caribbean and off the American coast with seeming impunity.
“Your recent success has made you the ideal person to deal with this problem. Yours will be an independent
