With the Midshipmen, 18th May

(First night out from Lisbon.)

It was always good to be off-watch. James Slater clattered down the companion ladder and headed directly aft, keen to strip out of his blue coat and lounge around. Other than the strange summons from Taylor about possible trouble below, precious little had occurred during his watch.

"Hallo, fellows," Slater greeted the other midshipmen as he entered the berth. He hadn't formally been introduced to all of them yet, but he was already decided that he would like them all, or at least make an admirable effort to.

Peter waited until Chandos had introduced himself, as the senior midshipman, but watched the newcomer with guarded interest, his finger marking his place in his book. Slater was about Julian's age, a year or so older than Peter, and certainly much more experienced.

"This is Fletcher," said Chandos, "the baby of the mess, and Peter Yates - who's so green we use him to ward off scurvy..." Peter smiled dutifully, and nodded to Slater, as Chandos continued. "You'll meet Dan Kinsella later - he's on watch. And that's the lot of us." The briefest of pauses before the senior midshipman asked, almost casually: "How did you come to be transferred to Terpsichore - where were you before this?"

"Pleasure," Slater said, offering smiles and nods to each of the others as they were introduced. It didn't escape him that the others seemed content to let Chandos handle the introductions, which meant Chandos was likely the senior midshipman.

"I was with Barfleur for a year or so," he answered. "I'm not sorry to be away from her, though."

"Why was that?" Peter asked, curious, after a glance at Chandos. "Did you see any action on her?"

Slater shrugged and eased his arms out of his coat sleeves. "Shows of force would be more accurate. I was sent off her to make room for the son of one of the captain's friends."

"It happens," said Chandos. "I hope you'll settle in here. You missed our battle against the Victorieuse - that was quite something, and we got knocked about ourselves." The memory of their lost messmate darkened his mood momentarily, but he remembered that he was welcoming a newcomer, who would not share their sadness. His face brightened. "But we're hoping for more action when we get to Oporto - blockade work, until the Army pushes the Frogs back, then we'll be free to cruise."

He'd heard that the frigate had taken a prize and was passingly disappointed to have missed out on the action.

"A cruise would be excellent, I think," Slater said with a smile. "I'm sure I'll settle in all right. This looks like a fine company, what I've seen thus far."

For a moment, Peter thought that Chandos might tell Slater about the events before the battle, but the older midshipman nodded. "She's a fine ship, and the officers are decent men. As for the men - we've managed to encourage most of them to learn their duty and their tasks. The battle helped, of course. There are some hard cases - and some we need to keep an eye on. But you'll spot those on your own." He glanced along the table at Peter and Fletcher, sitting silently while the oldsters talked, before adding: "If you have any questions ... "

Slater listened with interest to Chandos' remarks. There were, from what his own limited experience had shown, always hard cases. But, as Barfleur's third lieutenant had told them once, good officers could shape a crew up into an excellent company.

"I haven't any right now, but thank you. Well, not true. Maybe someone might tell me a little of our passengers?"

Peter waited for someone else to speak, then said, quietly: "I've spoken to the Doctor - Dr Maturin. He seems a very kind gentleman, and has spent a lot of time on ships." He looked down at his book, and then up with a slight smile. "He may not be totally at home on them though. He fell in coming aboard for a visit yesterday."

Fletcher added: "They've brought two horses with them. The Army officer's and the French prisoner's horse. They're in the hold with the General's stallion."

A sea-going doctor who took a fall over the side while coming aboard? Somehow, Slater couldn't imagine such a thing. There were horses aboard too, but he'd heard some seamen complaining about the difficulty that had been had getting the beasts safely stowed.

"I think I may've heard of a Doctor Maturin," he said after a moment's thought. "Barfleur's gunner used to talk about a physician called Maturin. Quite highly, too."

Then he grinned again. "Horses are fine creatures, though I can imagine that they are displeased to be confined to stalls in the hold."

"I saw the General's horse when he came aboard," Peter said. "I did not think he would survive the night - but provided the weather stays fair..."

"Dr Maturin was with Captain Aubrey - from the Mediterranean to India," Chandos said. "Some of our men have served with him, and they seem to rate him very highly - as a physician if not a seaman. He's only with us until we catch up with the Army, so we probably won't have the chance. Our Mr Crozier is an excellent surgeon, after all."

Slater nodded. "It won't be pleasant down there if we get caught in a storm, I wouldn't be the horses' groom for all the world."

He laid his coat carefully aside on his sea-chest, nodding again as Chandos spoke. "Mister Chisholm, Barfleur's gunner, said Doctor Maturin was without equal in his field. Certainly that distinction must be so, if it is so widely held."

"We have a Captain with us - two Captains, but one's French, and neither of them is the equal to our Captain," Peter said.

"Because they're army captains," Fletcher said in agreement. "But I've heard that Doctor Maturin can take off an arm in under a minute, and a leg in half that time! Don't you wish we might see it?"

"I'm sure I'll never truly understand army ranks," Slater said with a bemused grin. "I should be interested to see a display of Doctor Maturin's skills, but that would require a battle, wouldn't it?"

"Or an accident," Chandos said quietly. "There was a man hit on the head with a falling block or something - Dr Maturin opened the skull and..."

Peter shuddered. "That sounds terrible. We can't go wishing for someone to have an accident, just to watch Dr Maturin work miracles. And I think Mr Crozier could do most things like that."

"A man yesterday broke his leg in the hold," Fletcher volunteered helpfully. "He was kicked by a horse, or something. Perhaps he might have to have it taken off."

"A marine fell off a companionway due to a cross sea, and sprained his ankle," said Chandos, giving a quelling look at Fletcher. "I understand that he is back on light duties - not that it's any concern of ours - and Fletcher, stop wishing people to have serious accidents. They will think you're a Jonah."

[OOC: Little Midshipmen and Big Colonels and Frog Captains all must go to sleep now .... Must rest...]

"But I'm not!" the boy protested. "I'm only saying that IF someone needed a leg taking off, then I would like to see it. That's all." He sulked quietly, embarrassed at being reproved in front of the new fellow.

"The doctors wouldn't let you watch," Chandos pointed out, "unless it was your leg they were removing. You wouldn't want people hanging around commenting on the neatness of their work then, would you?" He smiled at Slater. "We might have action, according to Mr Bush. There have been ships taken between Lisbon and Oporto - smuggling mainly, but if we see it we must put a stop to it - just in case it's more than just boots and brandy..."

It seemed his earlier determination would prove to be correct. He was going to like this lot.

"I'd like to see even a small bit of action," Slater admitted. "With or without the chance to witness both esteemed doctors plying their trade."

"If we take a smuggler's boat, and they have cargo, do we get it as a prize?" Peter asked. "Smugglers' boats should be easy pickings - we can use the boats and ..."

"I'm not sure," Chandos admitted. "The boat would be a prize, if we didn't have to knock it about too much, but the cargo..." He smiled. "It would be a shame if we had to pay duty on it before we could sell it..."

Slater thought for a moment. "Well," he said slowly. "Wouldn't that depend on the type of cargo? If it were muskets, powder, and shot, or even provisions, wouldn't we be allowed to take some of it to replace our own stores?"

"If they're running that sort of cargo, we have to stop them," said Chandos with determination. "Our Army is relying on the Navy..."