King`s Captain

'By 'at ole Lir, sir?' Aspinall replied.

'And Lir's an Irish sea-god, Aspinall.' Lewrie nodded happily. 'Lir… Proteus… same old gentleman. Cleared her hawse, Proteus did, so I'd come aboard her as captain.'

God, I am such an egotistical bastard! he silently grimaced to himself; and a damned liar too!

'Oh, I think I get yer meanin', sir!' Aspinall grinned slyly.

'A proud, willful ship, a living ship she is,' Lewrie said. 'Too proud to let herself be shamed by serving an Anglo-Irish captain. Too proud and haughty to be involved in something shameful either! And… too savage in her anger 'gainst anyone who'd let her be shamed… in his name! Vengeful, arrogant, blood-thirsty… a ship to serve chearly… in his name.'

'Lord, sir!' Aspinall gulped. 'Talk like 'at fair gives me th' shivers!'

'Your Irish mates forrud… they tell their old tales like they half-believed 'em, Aspinall?' Lewrie smirked.

'Oh, aye, they do, sir. Even Desmond… best-educated o' their lot, sir. All his songs an' stories…'

'You tell 'em our songs and stories, Aspinall,' Lewrie schemed. 'Jester and the burial, the seals… the seals off Italy the morning we caught that French bastard Choundas. In the Adriatic, at that pirate isle… Proteus wants out of here, Aspinall, before she's smeared in shame for all time, and no good… what do they call it? No good cess'll be in her if she doesn't… for any man-jack who doesn't aid her. Or… him, whose name she secretly bears. Can you whisper that to 'em, lad?'

'Oh, aye, sir, I can,' Aspinall agreed.

'You and the Bosun, he already knows her nature. Hunt up Bosun pendarves, Mister Towpenny… they're West Country men almost good as Irish. You tell 'em for me, Aspinall. I can't. 'Twould sound like crowing.'

And get me tossed in gaol as a heretic-or Bedlam as a loonie!

'I'll get started then, sir. Iff n ya don't need nothin' else?' 'No, nothing else, Aspinall. You go visit your Irish friends.'

God helps those who help themselves, he told himself after his steward had departed; now… which god, well…'Either one, ya know I'm desperate. And a gallopin' lie in a good cause is forgivable.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Another day, another harangue, Lewrie thought with a scowl as he pared his nails with a small pocket knife. The boat-parade of delegates had come with a band, flags, their 'green cockade' speakers, and another rant, that just might take up half the Forenoon Watch if past performances were anything to go by.

Must be gettin' dotty, he told himself; but I'm almost lookin'forward to the 'entertainment/' He sat, most un-captainly slouched, in his personal wood-and-canvas folding deckchair of his own devising… feet up on the compass binnacle cabinet, conveniently near the speaker so he could hear all that transpired… yet far enough away to disclaim any real curiosity- enjoying the wan sunlight and fresh air, should anyone enquire. Lazily, as was his secret wont.

'Now, hark ye, t'what those cringin', cowardly tyrant ministers from London have sent us, thinkin' we'd cringe an' knuckle under,' the idiot McCann raved from the forward edge of the quarterdeck, brandishing a sheet of paper over his head. 'Ahem!' he announced, lowering it so he could read it. 'George Rex… 'Whereas!' ' he bellowed, '… 'upon th' rep… rep-resent…' damme.'

Lewrie had himself a pleasing smirk of glee over McCann's nigh illiterate ignorance, well hidden by the shade of his cocked hat.

'… of Our Lords-commissioners of Our Admiralty respectin' th' proceedin's of th' seamen and Marines on board certain of Our ships at th' Nore'… hah! All ships at th' Nore, an' more to come, count on't, lads! Here, uhm… where th' Devil was I…? Ahem! 'We were pleased to command Our Lords-commissioners of Our Admiralty to signify to th' seamen and Marines Our gracious intentions, ex…' hmmph! '… under Our sign m… man'-means he writ his name-then, '… bearin' date at Saint James's th' 27th day of May instant; and, whereas …! Our right trusty and beloved…' Devil take 'em! He says Earl Spencer, th' Lord Arden, and Rear Admiral Young are 'trusty,' th' old half-wit. Loony as a bedbug, an' ever'body knows it! Here, someone with good eyes, read this shitten thing! Brother Bales, you're a scholard, ain't ye?'

Bales, Lewrie noted, was ever eager to step forward and bask at centre-stage. A quickly whispered conference, McCann's tarry finger on the place he'd left off, and Bales began to declaim.

'… 'did cause Our gracious intentions, expressed in Our declaration, to be signified to the crews of Our ships at the Nore, and did require such crews to return to their due obedience accordingly; and, whereas it has been represented to us, that some of the crews of Our said ships have been desirous of returning to their obedience, accordingly, but have been prevented from doing so by violence

'Who, by Jesus?' McCann howled, peering about the gathered hands as if seeking witches in New England, making the crowd of sailors balk and cringe. 'No one I know wants t'return t'duty, by God! Violence… twaddle! We're free men here, of our own free will for th' Cause!'

Then why, Lewrie almost chuckled to himself, did Fleet Delegates now travel in very well-armed packs, escorted by weapons-heavy guards!

'Read on, Brother Bales! Read on!' McCann boomed.

Bales shrugged, then turned back to face the crew below him in the waist, crowded on the gangways. 'Ah… 'doing so by violence, and others of Our ships in the actual discharge of their duty having been fired upon, and attempts having been made to prevent some of Our ships from proceeding according to the orders of their commanders, and whereas such continued perseverance in rebellious and treasonable attempts… against Our Crown and dignity…' ' Bales began to mutter and frown at those words, and Lewrie perked up his own ears; 'Rebellious' and 'Treasonable' were not words idly bandied about!

'Louder, damn ye; we can't hear!' some hands demanded.

'Uhm, '… after repeated admonitions and offers of Our gracious pardon, render it necessary for Us to call on all Our loving subjects to be aiding and assisting in repressing the same!' Listen, mate, we best not…' Bales fretted, turning to McCann, as if pleading to leave off.

'Go on, Brother Bales… louder! What's it say, then?' McCann insisted, oblivious to the consequences. Bales dashed a hand 'cross his brow as if sweating lead pistol-balls. He peered about the deck for a bit of help, it looked like, someone with sense he might appeal to.

Lewrie lowered his feet, blew breath on his now-trimmed nails, and sauntered a few feet further forward, suddenly filled with hope as he realised that the King's letter was an ultimatum!

Bales heaved a petulant, despairing shrug, then continued where he had broken off. ' '… We have thought fit, by the advice of Our Privy Council, to issue this Our royal proclamation, and we do hereby strictly enjoin all Our admirals, generals, commanders, and officers of Our forces by sea and land, and all of Our magistrates whatsoever, and all others of Our loving subjects… that they in their several stations do use their utmost endeavours, according to the law, to suppress all such mutinous and treasonable proceedings, and to use all lawful means to bring the persons concerned therein, their aiders and abettors to… to justice!' '

Some few still dared to boo or hiss like geese; the rest stood rooted by alarm; it was an ultimatum: His Majesty's patience had come to an end!

'… and We do hereby strictly enjoin and command all of Our loving subjects whatsoever not to give any aid, comfort, assistance, or encouragement whatsoever, to any person or persons concerned in any such mutinous and treasonable proceedings, as…' ' Bales paled, ' 'as they will answer the same at their peril; and also to the utmost of their power, and according to the law, to prevent all other persons from giving any such aid, assistance, comfort