After the Battle

Jacob Chase wrote:"In trouble fer bein' dirty?" Chase repeated, shaking his head. "Look 'round, boy. Mosta us is dirty or bloody, or both. S'all parta workin' 'bout the ship."

"N' when yer inspected?...." He shook his head. "I'd have yer scrubbed down if I got ye smellin'." He looked down at his trousers. First time he has gotten real dirty, outside a battle. He shook his head and looked about and saw that they were rather dirty too. Most due to fighting of course, and some due to work with tar.

"Still , ye've wasted tar we could've used! " He said stubbornly.

It couldn't be any fun, being Brandeson's servant and having to run after him all the time. He nodded in response to the look Hardy threw him. The other Marine must have the patience of a saint, to put up with it all the time.

He watched them go before turning his attention back to what was going on with the sailors on the weather deck. Being on the Captain's cabin, or the ship's bell, were the best posts for a sentry. Or the entry port, of course. There was plenty of stuff to watch, unlike when posted on the magazine or the spirit room.

Fortunately, it was easy to get Brandeson back down to the wardroom and even easier to convince him to have a drink. It was not so easy to get the man back to his hammock afterward, but Hardy managed. At least it didn't take long before the man was snoring again.

The steward returned topside once that side-task was completed. Someday he'd get a proper officer to look after.

"Think we can get rid of him in Lisbon?" Hardy asked, idling as near to Thompson as he dared.

The topman shrugged. "When we're inspected, we turn out in proper rig."

He had to laugh at the remark about wasting tar, though. De Guarde was worried about the strangest things! "Here, then." Chase scraped off a gob of tar from his shirt and applied it quickly to one of the eye loops he had made. "Ain't a waste if y'can find a use fer it!"

It wasn't look before Hardy was back topside. Thompson didn't look at him, even as he asked about the possibility of getting rid of Brandeson in Lisbon. He didn't want to call anyone else's attention to the other marine, after all.

"Dunno, mate. Be nice to get a proper officer, wouldn't it? One who can do us proud." He spoke quietly, so that Hardy was the only one who could hear him.

Hardy nodded. "It would, sure. Me last officer was a good 'un. Shame he went out an' got hisself kilt." The steward grinned slightly. "Nip down below, near the wardroom when the watches change. Mister Brandeson keeps a nice stock of wine, he does."

"Let's hope we can get a good'un. And thanks, mate."

Hopefully Corporal Johnson wouldn't leave him to do double tides up here; he needed time to think, and maybe ask one of the others for a second opinion about what Mister Yates had said.

"No trouble," Hardy replied. He did hope for a replacement officer, as there was no worth in Brandeson. The man almost didn't need Hardy's help in keeping him passed out in his cabin, for pity's sake.

"Anyway." The steward was grinning again. "Didja hear? Corporal's lef' us. Ordered off with the prize. There'll be troubles there, 'tween him an' the First Luff!"

"No, I didn't hear that." Thompson blinked. Corporal Johnson... "Ol' Cross-eyes is part of the prize crew? When did that order come down?"

"I heared it from Mallory. Guess somebody figgered they needed him there more'n we did here. Not that I'm complainin'!"

He'd take Johnson over Brandeson any day, but he certainly wouldn't miss the Corporal's temper.

"'S'only to Lisbon though, ain't it?" he asked, thinking that however long the journey down lasted, at least it was bound to be more pleasant without the Corporal turning up every five minutes, looking sour.

Hardy nodded again. "Aye, just to Lisbon. At least it'll be quiet the rest of the way!"

"Fer us, anyway." He looked toward the Tars, who were diligently working on the various repairs needed. It wasn't difficult to pick out the now-former Mister Midshipman De Guarde.

"Let's hope he has a good voyage down then, else he'll get back in a worse temper'n usual, and the whole ship'll know about it when somethin' ain't up to scratch."

He glanced for'rard, and then had a proper look. "What is Chase doin' with that... boy?" He'd almost referred to De Guarde by his former rank, but stopped himself just in time.

Jacob Chase wrote:The topman shrugged. "When we're inspected, we turn out in proper rig."

He had to laugh at the remark about wasting tar, though. De Guarde was worried about the strangest things! "Here, then." Chase scraped off a gob of tar from his shirt and applied it quickly to one of the eye loops he had made. "Ain't a waste if y'can find a use fer it!"

"..Aye." He looked sullenly at the tar and down at the smear on his trousers. He still found it a very improper thing that he was literally made a 'Tar' or atleast 'tarred'.

He frowned and knelt beside the ropes, refusing to get his hand any dirtier than it already was. Instead he rather stubbornly sat still and observed what Chase was doing. "Yer not suppose ter laugh." He then added in a commanding tone, almost as if he were a middie still.

Leave it to the topmen... Hardy chuckled softly and shook his head. "Looks like the Tars are gettin' tarred."

"Looks it, don't it! Wonder what the bosun'll have to say 'bout that." At least they were having fun, though, which was something. "Never thought I'd see that young squeaker gettin' dirty, though, comin' aboard all prim 'n' proper the way he did."

"Why not? It was funny." Chase settled back down to work, still amused. "Yer far too serious, lad."

"It'll be good for him."

The bell pealed from up forrard, the belfry having been swiftly repaired by the carpenter's crew. Hardy squinted and saw the sentry by the belfry was Branning.

"Whaddaya think, can them Tars square the boy away?"

"Hope so. Though he's got to learn things Terpsy's way, an' be seen to be doin' it. An' if he don't want to learn, he'm just goin' to be stuck on the lower deck longer. That's what the Captain said - he wanted to see a proper change of attitude, an' that. But he's got to learn, that's all."

He shrugged. "Best thing for him, muckin' around like that. Hard to stay all snooty when you'm got to muck about in the dirt, after all"

That was true. Hardy shrugged fractionally. "Good luck to him, I s'pose. Those lads can be rough when they feels like it. I 'member seein' a landsman get his nose stove in just 'cause he didn't know somethin', on me last ship."

The thought of the seamen on his last ship made him shudder. Life on the Marines' messdeck had been decent enough, but the Tars had been a rough lot. Terpsy's seamen were better-tempered in comparison, though Hardy wouldn't like to be in De Guarde's shoes even for an instant.

"Hey - wasn't you sentry on the lad 'fore the cap'n sent for him?"


Edit: I'm gonna make it an early night. See y'all tomorrow, with luck!

"..I'm not serious." He answered with a snap, still idling with the rope he'd earlier been working on, neatly in his lap to make a pretence that he was hard at work. He had already gotten tired of working with the threads and felt strongly that he should not have need to be doing it. It was harder work than as a midshipman one would imagine, not too hard compared to the many other things that he could have been made to do though.

".. Just knowin' me duty.." He was quite a hypocrite in that insant seeing as he wasn't really doing anything.

He wondered when that would come up. "Aye, I was."

It wouldn't be easy for the lad, by any stretch of the imagination. He'd soon find the only way to win the respect of the seamen who were now his equals was to knuckle down and work like he'd never worked before.

Of all the young gentlemen, De Guarde was the one who would find it hardest to be on the lower deck. Not that any of them would find it easy, of course.

He shrugged and looked at Hardy. "What d'you want to know then, mate?"

"Knowin' yer duty, eh?" Chase eyed the rope that the boy was barely toying with. "There's knowin' yer duty an' then there's doin' yer duty."

Hardy stifled a yawn. "Is he really as brutish an' insensible as he showed hisself t'be? I near to boxed his ears in the wardroom, no lie."

"I don't think so... but that's what he learned from the officers an' middies on his other ship. He was there for two years, an' never had a real friend all that time. I think he's got here an' is just confused by everythin'."

He shrugged. "Seems a nice enough lad, inside, but is afraid to show it in case folks think he's weak or summat. I dunno. Doesn't understand 'bout pride... that we c'n be proud of summat, when we ain't officers."