On Sentry Duty

(Kitty! )

"I've only served on one ship before coming here." He wondered how letters could've spoken positively of the life which was many times laced with poor food, dangerous conditions of the weather's rage and superior officers and captains with their unforgiving manners. Perhaps the man had experienced the life at a different age or he was inclined not to worry his family with the hardships of the sea. Concluding that it must have been so he found himself pitying the lad, which had come here on false promises of great adventures, fantasies of bravery and honour.

"H.M.S. Confidence.. "He noted explaining in curt detail the few important bits of information about the vessel, himself reciting the information with clarity and obvious confidence in the who's and what's of his ship.

"'twas in my 12th year .. perhaps half a year sooner.."He shrugged as such detail seemed scarcely important. He noticed the small feline approaching, an eyebrow raised at the treasure that she carried in her small mouth. He hadn't though her a strange apparition. "A fat one, that one."He pointed to the rat. He stood closing the distance between himself and the cat.

"I'd like to see the rest of the ship should you not mind, showing."It wasn't a polite question but a request made to sound the same. He had no desire to remain in the crammed confinements of the mid's berth till he was called to duty. He reached to the cat's head showing no hostilities to the creature.

(Is counting mosquito bites and realising what a blessing it is, they never itch XD)

Emily backed away a bit, cautious of the young man closing the distance between them. Most of the men on this ship were nice to her - played with her, scritched her and fed her tit-bits - but this was unknown. He seemed to be pleasant enough, offering her a scratch, but she still had the rat, and that was worth protecting until she knew whetherhe wanted to steal it or not. Some men had tried to steal her rats before, and she wasn't going to let this stranger do so.

Unless he gave her some very good compensation in the form of more food, and that was rarely the case.

He glanced towards the feline's trophy before he reached into his pocket. But try as he might he could not locate a treat that would be edible be it for a young man such as he, or for a feline who's taste was yet to be evaluated. This did not mean though that he would test if curiosity trully killed the cat. For when his hand was brought from his pocket it was held in a fist hiding anything that it could have held inside.

He held it closer to Emily, but still at a confidant distance that the feline would have to take steps towards him, should she wish to inspect what he was offering her. He tilted his head to the side impatiently, though when he spoke his voice was tender and inviting.

She caught the glance to her rat. Yes, he was definitely after it! But then he put his hand in his pocket and brought it out again, something clasped in it. He held it out to her. Warily, she took a couple of tentative steps forward, and sniffed across the distance. It didn't smell as if he had anything in there...

"I'd watch out," said Peter, as de Guarde approached Emily. "She's the ship's cat, but they say she has the ear of Lieutenant Leat." He stopped, suppressed a giggle and then caught sight of the other boy's face. He continued rather dubiously, "She won't take food from just anyone."

"...I'll be glad then, that the cats have an uncanny disability not to speak."He answered gazing at the curious creature. Ah, she had caught up with his little scheme then. Too bad. He'd have been delighted to have her lured close. But, she was not yet a lost cause. Not like a dog, he mused. A cat didn't need to seek out attention if she so chose.

"Or share hers."He motioned to the rat, which, he gathered, was a prime reason the feline did not choose to come too close. ".. Come now.., we've not all day."He urged the feline."I won't take that smelly prize of yours. Don't ye furry your little furry head about that."He halted and then cleared his throat, continuing in a tone more familiar to his previous appearance.

"I'm glad to see you know a little atleast about the ship's cat."His eyes on mr. Yates:"...Could I expect you to tell me more about the other of the ship's crew?"

(tempted to grasp the kitty by the scurf of her neck just to see what she'd do.. but uhm.. scratches anyone? XD)

Peter grinned. "The cat's easy, there's only one of her, and she doesn't terrify me."

"Captain Bolitho - have you heard of him? Some of the crew have been with him on previous ships, and they all seem to respect him - the ones who came aboard this time are - well, you know how it is: the old hands saying what a wonderful Captain he is, and the rest thinking they're all just boasting. I haven't had much to do with him yet, but he's..." Peter struggled for the right word and ended with "- courteous?" Although 'distant' would have been as good. As a junior midshipman he had been warned to expect worse than a Captain who barely noticed him.

"Mhm.. so.. courteous?.. There be another trait that you would describe him as?"He recalled the name to be in the faintest sense familiar, but could not place the origin of his information 'cept for when he was assigned and told that he would come to serve here. A captain worth boasting about? He looked dubiously at Yates. The youth's age may blind his mind to the true thoughts of the men. He shook his head with that thought in mind, though curiosity had been peaked.

"I'll have you elaborate, if you please."He added with the tone of command, perched still in a crouching position before the feline. He adjusted the cloth that was tied comfortably around his neck, his collar tucked smartly and a wrinkle smothered from his coat. He touched a hand to his temple with stifled sigh.

(hehe, the midshipmen enjoy the few moments of peace XD how fortunate they be!)

"Brave? That's what the old hands say, anyway. And a good sailor. One they'd happily follow into battle..." He looked at the other. "I thought that was what all Captains were like. My uncle was most complimentary about his. But the other middies tell me there are some right bastards out there. But they do say we're lucky with Captain Bolitho - so it may be true that he is a fair-minded man."

Now, this midshipman had thought it was the way a ship ought to be lead. He needed to put him in his proper place, teach him not to trust such companionship and trust was true or possible. Sure it was a fine attempt, but it would take only a little while and such a system would fall appart!

"There are captains which wish to keep a proper discipline aboard their ship. Not a tender heart for the crew! 'tis not a pleasure voyage that we are on. Men are prone to disobey if you offer them a kind hand, more prone they are to mutiny if they sense softness in your demanour. Fearing men will respect their commanding officer and dare not to commit atrocities which could endanger the ship or the said officer. Have you no fear, what would hold them from striking an officer?"

"Allow the system in which we are all but best friends... and you are on a sure way to disaster." He sounded so convinced in this. "..I've had a proper captain."And yet he loathed him with all his heart but also feared him.

"He did not care for the feelings of his men, yet you will not find any finer trained men and no flaw in the workings of our .. my former ship!" He nodded sharply. A meticulous work was done to it's perfection, but none strived to do more but the exact amount they was ordered. A hollow crew with little spirit, a deal of suspicion and friendlessness. The midshipman felt it prevented mutiny, yet perhaps it was quite encouraging it.

"I didn't say he was soft-hearted - only fair-minded!" Peter said. "I have too little experience of life at sea - or of the sort of men we have here. But it cannot be to our advantage to make the men terrified of us. I was told that, to be firm, to take no nonsense from the men, but always to be fair. That makes so much difference, doesn't it?" He knew about mutinies, of course, just as he knew, theoretically, about battle and shipwreck and disease. They could be prevented (or survived) if the captain led the crew well.

"We took on a number of pressed men," he admitted. "They are still being trained, and - well, there is a great deal of shouting and starting. But once they are proper seamen, then I would hope the crew would be as fine as those on your last ship." Mr Bush, the first lieutenant did a lot of the shouting, but rather less starting. His voice was enough to terrify most people including Peter. But Mr Leat was much more softly spoken - and the men still respected him.

".. if the men fear us, then they dare not to approach us in a manner that may threaten our life nor position. They are more eager to do things quickly than those who know that their speed shall not cost them, should they be slow."He was convinced shaking his head:"You are too inexperienced to understand.. but do watch and observe. You might learn something."A bold statement of a young gentleman that hadn't even had a glimpse of a crew serving here.

"How many men had so far deserted your ship?"It was a curious question, that related not to the previous conversation so much as that it spoke of the crew. "Tell.." He added as it came to mind, that he had not learned but of the cat and the captain, an amusing notion of importance indeed. Especially as the cat had been the first in line.

"I've learned of this captain of yours.."A hesitant pause:"Ours.."He corrected:"...but surely there is more to be known of our lieutenants. Yes?" His desire to collect as much information as he possibly could held at bay his temper.

Emily wasn't convinced. She didn't like this boy; his hand was empty of a treat when he pretended it to have one, he kept eyeing up her rat and he also made a lot of harsh noise. Besides, he smelt funny.

Deciding it would not benefit her to hang around here any longer, she dodged around the boys, making it up to the companion ladder opposite and continued her way to the lower gun deck, and her cabin.

(hey hey, I do wash myself as often as is proper you silly feline! XP)

The midshipman caught just the tuft of Emily's tail disappearing from view and straightened up slowly. Just like any cat, he mused. Should a man not have anything of interest to offer and she was not feeling like granting the man the honour of touching her fur, she would certainly be a daft creature to remain behind.

Peter watched Emily leave the berth, still clutching her rat. The lieutenant was not going to be pleased if she deposited it in his bunk. The next thought worried him. He did not listen to gossip, but like de Guarde he had been eager to learn all he could about the officers and ship, and had listened to the other midshipmen. Most of it went over his head - he had never heard of the ships or the captains, nor could he understand what was so clever about some of the things they spoke about.

But de Guarde, he felt, had a very different attitude. Peter was unwilling to tell him things - about the other midshipmen or the officers, or even the crew - because he sneered at everything Peter said - he tried to hide it, but the effort that he put into being pleasant was obvious. Telling him about things like Mr Leat's misfortune, would be like tale-bearing. Peter did not believe that the only way to stay safe was to make everyone else terrified, and he said, ignoring the request for information about the officers: "Fear that they might be found out, or of the Captain's displeasure, that is enough. I do not believe that the men need to be terrified. That's how things go wrong, when you are scared."

It did not bode well with the young midshipman that his new found 'friend' chose to withhold information for which he so politely asked. He did not try to hide his annoyance when the boy spoke out against conviction and dared suggest that fear inflicted disaster instead. A hand balled into a fist, his knuckles paling with the stress forced upon them.

"..How many ships have you sailed, mr. Yates?...To present yourself as an expert of ways a ship should be commanded. You have not even begun to climb the ladder yet and you think you are qualified?"His anger flared. The nerve of the boy! He closed the distance between them till it felt uncomfortable imposing into the space of the other. "You'll know that, mr. Yates.. until you can name the most basic of information that relate to the vessel you sail on,.. the bare basics you have lacked to supply me with, you shall not be deserving to be named a landlubber let alone a midshipman."

He leaned closer to the youth, a hand placed onto his shoulder with an unpleasantly tight grip. "..Now... I repeat my question.. mr. Yates. What of the lieutenants and other men of our merry crew?"

Peter tried to shrug the grip away, but it was too tight and rapidly becoming painful. His fists clenched but he controlled the urge to punch him. It would only end up in an undignified scuffle, which he'd almost certainly lose - well, that might have to happen eventually, but it was damned silly of the new boy to start something before he found out where loyalties lay in his new berth. "Then I'm a landlubber or worse. Names don't matter. Ow - don't pinch! Let go, you idiot, that hurts!"

Above decks, eight bells struck and the watch changed over. Lieutenant Leat exchanged a salute with the Master, Tadcock, who was his replacement, touching hats and exchanging words over the present course, sails set and weather conditions. He then went aft and below to the Great Cabin, nodded in acknowledgement of the Marine sentry and knocked on the door.

(If you wish anything corrected, just say ok Yates? )

He pushed the youth backwards for a few choice steps. His grip tightened, fingers digging into his shoulder. His free hand was raised to strike him across the face. At the last moment it changed it's course and slid behind the high collar taking firm hold of the back of mr. Yates's neck. There his fingers pressed into the sides of it, an area which if applied properly would send a sharp jolt of pain:" You'll apologize!"

The brute may not have been tall and strong as some of the midshipmen but his vile temper had certainly gotten him into a predicament that he regretted. Though pride did not allow him to release the boy yet.
Still, he was supposed to make friends with the young Yates, so that he would be easier to 'convince' into doing favours at his heart's content, but now he would be urged to apologise if ever to earn the good spirit of the young boy! And that was a hopeful.

Inside the Great Cabin, Bolitho had been standing by the windows, glancing out at the foam and waves being left in the Terpsichore's wake. He was still acquaniting himself with the new cabin, still getting accustomed to this new command. He stole a glance at his coat which he had laid out across a chair, then he looked back out the window.

Abruptly, there was a knock on the door which shook him from his thoughts and immediately drew his attention back to the present.

"Enter," he said, turning around to face whoever was coming into the cabin.

Peter recognized the grip and stood still, scowling. He wasn't even sure what he should apologize for - his views? No, he wouldn't. He might not have any sea experience, but he knew other things, and his father would be horrified if he thought that his son was terrorising men old enough to be his father - his grandfather even. But he had called the other boy an idiot. Which might be true, but was not polite. He could apologize for that.

"I'm sorry, de Guarde," he said. "Now, please let go."

"Good afternoon, sir," Leat said, removing his hat and entering when bidden.

"Good afternoon, Mr Leat," Bolitho said, regarding the lieutenant with a nod, "I trust everything is well on deck?"

The grip loosened. The fair haired midshipman released both holds crossing his hands instead over his chest. "...Better."

He reached forwards and tugged twice at the mid's collar, adjusting it properly and stretching the fabric to rid it from a few stray wrinkles. "...There."He paused debating inwardly weather he ought to make amends with the boy. His pride disagreed, his mind concluded that it was in his best interests to do so."...Apologies.."

It sounded nearly heartfelt.".. Peace?"He held his hand out, the cuff revealing the scar on the back of his hand. He hesitated with the next offer. Daring to try his luck even if the boy was still shaken he added:".....Friends?"

"Well enough, sir. It is Mr. Tadcock's watch, there is still a good stiff breeze for Lisbon, fairly mild swell but the glass is still high. At last cast the log read eight knots."

That was all the routine reports out of the way.

"And I believe that Mr. De Guarde has come aboard, sir."

Though Bolitho was probably well aware of the fact - what with the proximity of the other ship and kerfuffle on deck he could not have failed to be aware of it.