12th June; Rumble on the Gundeck

"Thank you," Thompson said with a smile, and held out his hand to take one of them. "Let's go see where these ought to be, then."

Finding a shot garland missing two balls shouldn't be too difficult. They just had to head for'rard and keep their eyes open.

Ware could only watch as the other two Marines made their way forrard. It seemed to him that Shepherd was trailing just a little too far behind Thompson to be honestly considered as 'helping'.

"Keep up, Shepherd," Thompson said. It was going to be the younger ones who would push the most, of course - and the Shepherds would push most of all. Double the trouble, that's what those twins were, though they weren't bad-hearted lads.

"Here we are, then," he said as he saw the shot-garland in question, and put his ball into it. "If you see your pal Fingers, let him know he ought to be a little more careful, won't you?" He was almost sure he could see something tucked away between the carriage of the Number Five gun and the ship's side that could correspond to a boy, curled up tight trying not to be seen.

"And thanks for your help," he added, straightening his jacket. Now he was done here, he might as well go and check up on the sentries.

"Aye aye, Corporal." The drummer obediently trundled after Thompson, following the corporal's lead in delivering his iron burden to the corresponding empty spot in the shot garland. With this task done, Shepherd straightened to attention and said nothing further, waiting for the corporal to be on his way.

"There we go. Carry on," Thompson said, and gave Shepherd a very quick wink before turning to head up to the weatherdeck.

The Marines were leaving. At last. They had hung about long enough! Barely letting himself breathe, Fingers waited, clutching his throbbing keft wrist with his right. He was not crawling out of here until he was sure the coast was clear.