Mess deck

(First night out from Lisbon, Thursday 18 May)

With the ship finally back at sea and set on her course, the hands were piped to their evening meal. Amid the rush along the decks, Billy spotted an unfamiliar fellow who looked rather lost. "This way, mate. It's supper and you don't want to get stepped on. You the keeper for that fancy horse, ain't ye?"

Halley , as was the groom's name, looked properly lost below decks. As help arrived he looked grateful though a bit shaky on his feet. He was groping at the wall every so often as if though the floors were continously moving from under his feet and concentrating on Barrow again his hand rested along the wall.

"Yes. Copenhagen, the stallion." He replied taking a step out of the way, as a few sailors rushed past them. Though the food would be given to all the eagerness of them made it seem as if the last to come would be the one hungry. " Halley, " He extended his hand shakily, a sickly complexion on his face. "much obliged." He added with a light nod of his head, which seemed to make him breathe in harshly for a moment regretting the motion.

"Billy Barrow," he answered with a grin, shaking the man's hand. Poor fellow looked a bit seasick, but maybe some food would help. "Come along and eat sommat, mate. I think you'll be glad of it. You mess with us, aye?" For who knew whether the groom for General Wellesley's own horse might not be invited to dine with the captain? But probably not dressed and smelling like that.

Halley wasn't certain whether he wanted to smell or see food, though he had wandered below decks for just the reason. He nodded with a bare twitch of his head, expecting anything more abrupt to result in feeling worse. A smile was just barely managed as he retreated his hand to the side.

"Does it ever stop moving?" He asked indicating the floor and the walls and even the lanterns and all that was bound to hang from the ceiling. It's motion, however slight was not for those of upset tummies, to look at.

"Yes. Yes I think I am to dine with you." He spoke after a moment that he decifered the question. Oh be all damned and cursed, whoever thought to pick him to accompany that animal.

There was a landsman on the messdeck. That fact, leaving out his constant irritation and resentment at having former midshipman De Guarde amongst them as a foremast Jack, was an insult to Jonny Seward. He heartily disliked landsmen and rarely went out of his way to even be helpful. The groom to that damned stallion was the worst sort of landsman, too.

"Like bleedin' hell yew is," Seward said testily, overhearing the groom's words. Why were they to be cursed by having such a green-around-the-gills lubber sharing their food and disgracing the sanctity of their messdeck?

Squeak responded approvingly with his irritating high-pitched laugh, but Donald shot them a glare and said, "Pipe down, will you, both o' yehs. And you Seward, stow it."

Seward winced when Jimmy Squeak uttered his ear-hurting laugh, then he frowned at Bob Donald's rebuke.

"Stow it no-place, yew means. That blaggard's a bleedin' landsman, why's he t'be let near our mess-kids? Let'm eat wiv his damn horse."

Squeak responded again, but his laughter was cut short when he noticed Seward's face. Instead he cried "Aye, he's right. Let 'im eat witha horses, haw haw haw!

"Oh shurrup yer ugly face, Squeak," Seward snapped.

Squeak giggled nervously and then complied.

"What's got into you, Seward?" Robbins asked, winking at Donald next to him. "Normally you're docile as a lamb, you are."

"That bleedin' landsman's one thing," Seward answered grumpily. "An' that blockhead De Guarde's anuvver. This used t'be a ship wot made sense!"

"Aye. Until you came along," Old Keane laughed. He was the most veteran Terpsy in the crew.

Seward tossed a glare at Old Keane. "It ain't me that's harf the problem! I ain't had no complaints 'til that idiot De Guarde came aboard, like. Ain't a lad 'round here that'd disagree wivvout lyin', neither. Even Chase hisself, do-gooder wot he is."

A few mess-tables away, Chase twisted around on his bench and called out, "I heared that!"

Squeak laughed and threw the corner of a biscuit at Chase's head.

"That's mutinous talk, sailor." The boy, whose size had well concealed him behind the taller and broader chested sailors piped in. He'd learnt the name just earlier, Seward, and made a note of it.

As Chase, he was able to hear every word spoken and as the landsman, he was also there to mess. "Disagreeing with wot' t' cap'n n' t' officers ordered.." De Guarde tutted. His pride was wounded when called an idiot and it showed in the tone of his voice.

The landsman was still standing where he's been left. He had chosen to stay from the discussion, part thinking it respectful and in part knowing that a word from him could set the fire of disagreements to rise, rather than be subdued. He wasn't feeling for an argument either or thought there was a need of one.

Seward scoffed. "Dunno wot yew'd know 'bout mutinous talk, boy. Yer not a foremast Jack an' ain't likely e'er t'be, so shurrup an' keep yer own nose outta other folks' talk."

Across the table, Robbins was shaking his head. Jimmy Squeak was, thankfully, silent and Donald simply looked unsurprised. The scrape of a shod foot over the deck drew everyone's attention to the appearance of a dark blue coat with white patches on the up-turned collar. Hasty salutes were offered.

"A fine evening, eh, lads?" The midshipman asked. Seward grimaced behind the boy's back, recognising the middie as the new one who'd come aboard in Lisbon.

Robbins said, "Right lovely, sir."

If Billy was surprised by this new tresspasser in the sanctity of the men's mess, he hid it well. "Evening, Mister Slater," he said with a pleasant salute, recognizing the new young gentleman he had brought on board with the boat.

Slater nodded pleasantly at the coxswain. "Everything is well here, I trust?"

Near the forrard companionway, Taylor the carpenter's mate folded his arms and looked grave. He had sent for the midshipman of the watch when he realised the potential for trouble.

"Aye sir, all well. We was just showin' Halley the horse keeper here where he could get some supper, like." No need to get anyone in trouble for idle talk. Mutiny was a word that no one liked to hear uttered, and Billy did not agree with De Guarde in his assessment of the conversation. It was just a lot of talk.

"Good, good." Slater nodded again. "Carry on, lads."

As the midshipman moved off back toward the companionway, Seward turned his disgusted glare to the men nearest him.

"He kin git sum supper, but sure he ain't eatin' on our messdeck!"

"Shut yer gob, Seward," Donald said mildly as Billy led the newcomer to sit down near Chase and De Guarde. "And you, young Matthew, don't go mentioning mutiny round here." Several of the men touched their wooden tables and grimaced at the sound of the word. Best not to talk about it.

"Hmph." Seward got up from the table and took his plate with him. If the others were content having a landsman and a disgraced ex-midshipman for company, he'd go eat his supper topside.

"Oh siddown, Seward," Donald sighed, grabbing his arm. "Siddown an' eat yer cheese. It ain't forever, mate. He won't bother you none, way over yon."

Seward shook off Donald's arm with an irritated curse. "Don't make it no less insultin'. Gerroff."

Then he was moving toward the companion ladder and up, his bare feet slapping angrily over the deck.

Squeak grabbed his own plate and hurried to follow. Donald shrugged, raising his eyebrows at Robbins who simply slid over on the bench to make himself more comfortable with the extra space. "Dunno what's got inna him today."