The Fool's Errand

"A whore and trouble," he muttered to himself. It was true and he knew it, but he also knew he didn't care.

He nodded at the Bosun and went below to the cabin. Striking a light he lit a shuttered lantern and sat down in the stifling heat to pore over the charts. Idly his mind wandered through scenarios of wind and wave as he pondered the most likely places to find new targets. Every fifteen minutes he rose, went topside to take readings and annotate the weather log, and returned to the cabin.

When the muffled bell rang for the Dawn Watch, he rose and went topside again. He gave Lieutenant Liu an adjusted course and turned the ship over to him. Returning to the cabin, he set about entering the contents of the weather log into the ship's log. Then he heated a scraper and set about preparing the weather log for the next shift. Only when this was done did he douse the light, open the curtains, strip off his clothing and climb into bed.

The sun was already climbing high into the sky when Giuseppe woke him.

"Good morning, Captain, it's time for the first watch. Good morning, Lady."

"Good morning, Giuseppe," Lady said.

"Thank you, Giuseppe," said Donovan.

"You're courteous too," she said.

"What?"

"You're polite. You say 'please' and 'thank you'. I confess I have not met many men of your like, Captain. May I please use the chamber pot? I desperately need to go."

Donovan undid her manacles and untied her ankle. She scrambled lightly off the bed and squatted to pee in the chamber pot.

"You were embarrassed by that last evening," he pointed out.

"I was," she said. "But now I'm not."

She wiped herself and stood.

"Will there be breakfast?" she asked.

"Eventually, but not at present," he replied. "I confess I find myself puzzled by what to do with you."

"You had no hesitations in that regard last night," she countered with a faint, but cunning, smile.

Despite the problem before him, literally, and his cultivated poker face, he smiled.

"And therein lies the root of the problem. We're about to turn to all hands for exercise and cleaning. You should be a part of both, but you have no clothing suitable for these tasks. I've no moral qualms about ordering you above in your present state, but it would inflame the crew," he explained as he continued to ponder the possible courses of action.

"I'll do as you order, of course," she replied.

"Hang caution," he declared. "Lay above, Lady. As you are."

She looked him in the eye for a long moment and then walked out of the cabin. Donovan followed her up the stairs to the main deck and then proceeded alone to the poop deck.

"Turn to, Bosun," he ordered quietly.

"Turn to aye, Captain," the Bosun replied. He turned away from the Captain and faced forward. "All hands on deck! Turn to ye laggards!"

Men scrambled out of the portside netting as the off-duty watch made their way to the deck and the on-duty watch, less the helmsman and lookout aloft, joined them.

"Good morning my fine Jacks," Donovan said.

"Good morning, Captain," the assembled men roared back.

"You've all heard of our supercargo I hope. Have you also heard of how she came to be aboard?"

There was a cacophony of coarse chuckles and leering whistles.

"Ah, you have heard. We'll see if she thinks her bargain cheap when we deliver her to her destination. But as you have heard the tale you know that I made my bargain on my honor. She'll rut with no one but me and if you make a sham of my honor I'll drag you for shark bait. My oath on that. Some of you will feel hard done by for I'm breaking my own rule as regards women aboard ship. Well it's my damn ship and I'll do as I please. If you still feel poorly towards me when next we make port then you can take your wages and your shares and find a new berth."

He swept his gaze through the crowd, meeting the eyes of each man until he found acceptance in them.

"We'll begin with exercise, Bosun," he said.

Faintly he heard one man joke to a shipmate about how he'd like to take his exercise. The comment was followed by a dull smacking noise and the unmistakable rumble of Giuseppe instructing him to mind his manners.

"Exercise aye, Captain," the Bosun replied. "Get your gear und make ready!" he bellowed. "Stand well to forward, Lady, at t'e back o' t'e formation where t'ey won' be starin' at you tits or twat."

The men pulled spare belay pins from the sides and arranged themselves on the main deck facing the poop deck. The brass pins, two feet long and tapering from one and a half inches to one inch, weighed about ten pounds each, which was one of the reasons Donovan had selected them instead of wood. They made handy weapons and, holding one in each hand, good exercise weights.

"No pins for you, Lady," the Bosun rumbled. "Ready, und...."

The leather-lunged sailor led them through a calisthenics season that had them dropping sweat onto the deck in short order. The men faced aft along the main deck while the officers faced forward on the poop deck. From this lofty position Donovan could see the entire crew and Lady. She quickly fell behind in the pace, but never stopped exercising. When the session was over the Bosun ordered the men to begin cleaning the topside of the ship. They broke up into small parties, self organizing, when a cry came from the lookout.

"Sail ho!"

"Where away?" Donovan snapped out.

"Four points to starboard," the lookout replied.

"Can you make her out?" Donovan asked even as Midshipman Tran was slapping a spyglass into his hand.

"A pair of single hulls close together. They're not showing any sail, Captain."

Donovan stepped to the starboard side of the deck and searched the sea until he found the ships.

"All hands to battle stations if you please, Bosun," he said conversationally.

"They're flying Cook's Land colors," he told the officers clustered around him as the Bosun roared orders at the crew. "They've damage to the rigging, sprung masts and broken spars. Sails are tatters. I think we've found some battered pigeons."

"Run up our colors, Mister Liu, and let's see what they're made of," he ordered. "Bring us three points to starboard, helmsman, we'll approach on the weather gauge."

"Three points to starboard aye, Captain," the helmsman replied.

"Colors up aye, Captain," Lieutenant Liu replied.

Donovan felt the ship shifting beneath his feet and kept the glass trained upon the distant ships. He saw a lookout shouting down to the deck below and figures rushing to the railing.

"They've seen us," he commented.

"Will you be wanting the guns, Captain?" Tran asked.

"By all means, Midshipman, a good drill if nothing else. Starboard side guns deploy but do not load," Donovan replied.

"Starboard side guns deploy but do not load aye, Captain," the man confirmed. He stepped away from the group, yelling for the Master Gunner.

"Are they arming, Captain?" Liu asked quietly.

"I've seen no sign of it," Donovan said. "They appear to be talking amongst themselves."

The question tugged at a part of Donovan's conscious until it had his attention.

"Lady! Get below!" he ordered. "No idlers on my deck during action!"

"Ah, now they've decided upon a course of action," he muttered as the figures aboard the ships, after much wild gesticulation, scattered. After a moment he grinned and then called out orders.

"Their britches are brown, my boys, for they've hoisted a white flag. Starboard guns load two, and the bow chaser. Break open the arms locker and prepare to board."

Around him he heard people responding to him, both verbally and physically. He kept his eye upon the approaching vessels, carefully looking for some sign of deceit, but he saw none. Instead he saw a line of dispirited souls clustering along the rails to watch the Fool's Errand approaching. He passed the glass to Midshipman Tran and took the padded coat and weapons baldric the young man had brought. Glancing down he saw Lady standing almost at the upper plank of the steps leading down below.

"Bosun, get that slut into my cabin and into chains!" he bellowed.

Hartz roared an obscenity laden order at two men who hustled Lady below. They re-emerged from below decks as Donovan finished throwing the weapon baldric over his shoulder and took the glass back from Tran. He quickly re-acquired the ships and scanned them.

"They've the look of supercargo and seamen," he muttered, "but not an officer amongst them."

Lieutenant Liu, standing at the helm, began bellowing orders. The few seamen not standing by the guns or ready to board began slipping lines to loose the sails. The ship slowed quickly as it approached the two ships.

This close it was readily apparent that the ships had been heavily damaged in the storm. Donovan picked up the hailer from beside the wheel and put it to his mouth.

"This is the Fool's Errand out of Good Harbor. Surrender or be taken," he called out.

There was a commotion aboard the other ship and then a voice called back.

"We surrender."

A little over an hour later the crews of the Pretty Nancy and Loyola were well in hand. A selection of men from the Fool's Errand were put on each ship and their numbers filled out with a few of the original crew. The rest of the crew were placed in one brig on the Errand and the ships officers and supercargo in another. The Pretty Nancy turned out to be carrying a merchant and his wife. Donovan had the woman chained up in his cabin.

A survey of the vessels showed that much of their cargo had been tossed overboard during the storm, along with their few cannon. The crews had been able to make good the hulls and pump out the worst of the flooding, but their sails had been shredded. The crew had been engaged in cobbling together some sail from the canvas remnants and had sent off the captain of the Pretty Nancy with some crew in a longboat to seek assistance.

Donovan took the two ships in tow and put his crew to work fashioning some sails from the spare canvas the Errand carried. This done he set a course for Good Harbor. The crew were in good spirits to have found good prizes with no fighting and the prospect of prize liberty in their home port made them approach the hardest tasks with a real will. It amused and annoyed Donovan that they were half-attributing this good fortune to Lady's presence and not to his planning. Which brought another matter to mind.

He descended into the main cabin and began to remove the padded coat he wore during battle. He glared at Lady who began to speak.

"Not a word," he snapped. "I'll deal with you tomorrow when I am no longer angry. Keep your tongue unless you'd deal with me now in anger."

She nodded her head and sat back on the cushion beneath her.

"I'm afraid quarters are cramped, Mrs. Pemberton," he addressed the woman sitting next to Lady. He had ordered her stripped down to her shift and she was looking apprehensive, but not as much as most, he noted. "Placing you in my cabin avoids any incidents that might occur if you were kept in the brig. And I assure you my cabin is a far more pleasant place. You will not be molested and will be subjected to a minimum of indignities. I am far more interested in your ransom than your body. You'll see your husband once a day, on deck, when you bathe. He has also accepted my invitation to dinner tonight."

"What will become of us?" she asked.

"Imprisonment in Good Harbor until you are ransomed," he replied. "Perhaps slavery if no ransom can be obtained, but I deal only with reputable brokers, so slavery is unlikely, unless your family has a particular desire to see you disappear?"

"No. No!" she said. "Our family will pay any ransom within their means."

"Then you have nothing to fear," he told her. "Try to think of this as a broadening experience; an adventure. It will smooth the bumps in your road home."

"They said we were safe surrendering to you, the crew I mean. Lieutenant Anderson wanted to fight you. But the crew refused."

"Probably the wise thing to do," Donovan said. "I wouldn't have closed without a surrender and if he had tried a ruse under those circumstances things would be very different. You'd be chained in the focsle, to begin with, and not wearing that shift. The crew would be swimming and your ships would be burning."

The woman turned as pale as the canvas the Fool's Errand flew and swallowed nervously.

"Thankfully we are meeting under far more pleasant circumstances," he continued. "We will take an early dinner this evening to allow for the fact that my crew and myself will be working very hard this evening. It isn't often we have one ship in tow and I have never had two ships in tow. Lady will show you how to use the chamber pot, if need be. I'll return shortly."

Donovan returned topside and passed orders on to Gupta. With the Bosun on the most damaged vessel and the Master Gunner on the other prize he had put the Punji man in charge of the focsle. Simpkins was twice the sailor, but utterly lacking in command skills. In this way Gupta would order something done and Simpkins would see to the doing of it.

Giuseppe, of course, had remained aboard the Errand. He, and two other crewmen, escorted the remaining officers from the prizes to the cabin and then began to bring in the food.

"Captain Worthington-Hampston, is it not?" he addressed the portly, self-important man seated to his right.

"I am," he admitted.

"Welcome aboard the Fool's Errand, Captain. I congratulate you on surviving the storm and thank you for surrendering. The situation was hopeless and needless bloodshed would have angered me. As a token of my thanks I'll ensure each of you gentlemen receives a rum ration during our transit. I will also set your ransoms low. The brokers will, of course, raise them after purchasing your parole, but it's all I can do."

"You could stop being a thief and return us to our ships," stated one of the younger men.

Donovan smiled tolerantly at him. "Lieutenant Anderson, I believe?" He continued without waiting for an answer. "I am not a thief. I hold a Captain's commission from Good Harbor and a valid letter of marque. Your vessels were flying the flag of Cook's Land and, a state of conflict being in effect between our nations, were seized. All in accordance with the laws of war."

"Good Harbor is a nest of thieves," the man spat out. "The government of Anglia and Cook's Land does not recognize your sovereignty or your commission or your letter. You are a thief and a pirate."

"I am not, though I imagine that if I had been captured by you I would not be sitting down to a rather nice meal at the moment. But you'll have to be on the winning side the next time we meet in order for your opinion to matter."

Donovan sat down. "You may be seated, Lieutenant."

Flushing dark red the Lieutenant sat.

"Aren't you going to let the lady eat with us?" Mrs. Pemberton demanded.

"I am not," Donovan replied. "Lady is a passenger aboard the Errand. She is a voluntary passenger, unlike yourselves, and has not yet learned the niceties of shipboard discipline. She is confined until Captain's Mast tomorrow. What is the news from the Sandwich Islands, Mrs. Pemberton?"

The lady looked at her husband and the Captain of the Loyola in surprise.

"He read the log, Mrs. Pemberton," the Captain explained. "Failing that he could have looked at our cargo. It's hardly a secret." He looked at Donovan. "Things go well there, Captain. I will not discuss details of shipping with you, but perhaps Mrs. Pemberton will be kind enough to regale you with the social happenings."

Mrs. Pemberton was willing, and they spent the next hour listening to her relate news and gossip from the Islands. Through the evening Giuseppe efficiently kept their wineglasses full and the food came in small courses. Donovan drew the evening to a close by summoning crewmen to return the officers to the brig. Mrs. Pemberton he personally secured and then went above.

It was a long night, made tiring by an inconstant breeze which changed directions frequently and required the crew to constantly adjust sails. It died away altogether near morning and Donovan set most of the crewmen to working on the sails. By the time the sun rose they had sufficient canvas to raise a scratch sail plan on the Pretty Nancy. Donovan turned the Nancy over to Lieutenant Liu and the crew heaved at the capstan to bring the Loyola under tow.

By mid-afternoon matters stood to Donovan's satisfaction and he gave leave for the men, less a two man watch, to eat. When they were finished he called all hands to the main deck.

"It's Sunday," he announced, "but we'll have no day of rest 'til we make Good Harbor. Captain's Mast is convened. Are there any complaints?"

He swept the crowd with his eyes and found none with an issue to raise.

"Very well then, bring up Lady."

Two of the men went below and brought Lady up, each of them with a hand upon an arm, though he noticed they treated her deferentially.

"Lady, you ignored my order to go below during the late action. Do you deny this?"

She shook her head, not entirely certain of what was going on. "I do not, Captain. I have not been long at sea and I have never seen a battle. I was curious."

"Under the articles of this vessel, the regulations of the port of Good Harbor, and common custom this is a capital crime. I note, however, that you had no ill intention, caused no real difficulty, and were largely ignorant of your transgression. Therefore I will be lenient and sentence you to ten lashes across the back."

The crew murmured amongst themselves at this pronouncement.

"Bosun?" Donovan asked. "Does the crew have a comment to make?"

The Bosun consulted with the men for a moment and then stepped forward. "It seems ill done to flog our fortune, Captain. We do not dispute t'e offence, but question t'e sent'nce."

"Your fortune is she?" Donovan asked. "Very well, as she's your fortune there'll be no duff 'til we make the harbor. If she errs again then every man will share her blame. And I'll be satisfied with no less than five lashes."

The crew looked a little glum at this pronouncement, but the leaders amongst them were resolved and so they all were after a moment.

"We make a cat, Captain," the Bosun replied. "String her to t'e main mast," the man ordered the sailors.

Lady looked appalled, but her escorts moved her along to the main mast and made her hands fast to it, above her head. Donovan noticed one of them slipping a piece of leather into her mouth, but made no complaint. Slipping a favored crewmate a piece of leather to bite down on during a flogging was a tradition as old as the punishment itself.

The Bosun accepted a cat o' nine tails, freshly prepared, from one of the crew. Even from the poop deck the bundle of ropes, each with a knot in the end, looked fairly insubstantial and Donovan would swear that some of the strands were silk rope. This, too, was an old custom, and one he could do something about if he chose. He knew he should, yet he held his tongue and merely nodded at the Bosun.

The man drew back and brought the lash forward to impact upon Lady's back. The ropes dragged as they struck creating lines of raw flesh. Lady flinched and put her head to the mast. The next stroke came quickly from the opposite side as the Bosun made a figure eight pattern with his hand that quickly brought the beating to a conclusion. Lady was shaking fiercely and her back was covered in angry red lines.

"Surgeon!" Donovan barked.

Brady took his time down the steps, which earned him glares from some of the crew, but he was professional in his examination of her back.

"Welts," he called to the Captain, "and not a single scratch of the skin. The Bosun's given her a caress."

"Punishment is sufficient," Donovan decreed. "Take her to my cabin."