Mess deck

De Guarde observed the argument , rather upset that a sailor dared tell him to pipe down. His annoyance was shared in his discomfort when another had called him by his Christian name. Too familiar they were getting, and his eyes narrowed to slits.

He waited till the angry man had left then snapped rather harshly:" .is De Guarde ter ye.. n' no different. Ye ain't be callin' me by my name, is that clear?" The midshipman's earlier arrival had put a stopper into his outburst. He hadn't brought his words up, when the boy asked about the problems. Better so even, though he was dearly tempted.

Better so for now. Too many people before which he would make an accusation against one of theirs, and he would not be sleeping safe ever below decks.

+

The groom observed, not sure why and how he was causing offense yet he was willing not to, knowing that he were here as only as a passenger and upsetting the man made balance of the mess deck was not how such a voyage should go. As he was seated he seemed quite uncertain along with pale and ill thanks to the movements of the ship. Why wasn't it like land? He so wished it were.

"Don't go gettin' upset, young Matt," Billy said amiably. "Folks call me Billy, don't they? And because why? It's me name, ain't it. But he's got a point though. Best not to say the word mutiny too loud, not ever. Now!" He turned and grinned at the newcomer. "Halley, mate, have a biscuit here, and some cheese. Some food in yer stomach will do ye good. Shift over, Sammy. These lads here are Chase, De Guarde, Samuels, and Westdale."

"Ye'um be called Billy.. but I'll be rather glad if yer stick ter calling me De Guarde." His voice betrayed that it wasn't a request given to a friend, but rather a demand to be upheld. He glanced at the landlubber that they were to accommodate. He'd known him by name and face since they've met by the horses. It was this man that relieved him from watching over the stallion, though when he'd seen him then he looked healthy and red cheeked. It was interesting to observe how his state had deteriorated ever since they headed for the sea, and as their ship became again more accustomed to the movements most natural to any sailor or man aboard.

+

"Obliged. " Halley murmured as he met with each face and name. He didn't look eiger to take any food. Still he murmured a small thanks when offered and took the biscuit and cheese given.

"I hope I haven't stirred trouble." He looked to Barrow, who'd seemed first as host and guide. "I haven't a clue of the going on's on a ship. Nor of it's arrangements." He might've wandered in places he hadn't wanted or been hopelessly lost in the bowels of the ship and he wouldn't even know the way back.

Billy gave De Guarde a look that was a mixture of smirk and grin of amusement, but he nodded to Halley and said, "Don't you worry. You'll soon be used to our ways. Where yeh's from? You musta been on a ship before, aye?"

The smirk and grin received an appropriate glare to fit, in response. The young gentleman was unimpressed and irked by the fluidity in which the sailor left his demand from his thoughts. He glanced at his plate. The food was no longer a topic that he'd considered worth thinking on. It was the standard sailor's fodder and it would change day by day but usually just taste the same. Nevermind if it were salted pork or salted beef or...anything really. And biscuit had a different taste to salted meat of course but again it's pattern of use was repetitive, without a promise of a captain's dinner nor its delicious meal.

Halley smiled. He wasn't relieved or fully convinced, but hoped that by keeping his head down and remaining as others, immersed in conversation he would not draw unwanted attention. "I've worked in Portugal since before all this, though I am originally from England. "

He looked at the cheese, then at the biscuit, seeing how hard the later was. " Haven't set foot on a ship.. well, I'd be damned if not since I first set foot on the coast come Lisbon." He hadn't a pleasant memory of that time neither.

(correct in anything i wrote wrong, please x.xI work of what i remember was done, but again could be wrong!)

"Oh aye? Well you'll have to take a ship if you ever hope to see home again, eh lads?" laughed Young Oates, listening from the bench behind. "Wheresabout in England then?"

"I hail from Essex." He touched his forehead then covered his mouth a moment and was glad that his belly had not decided to purge itself of anything that it held within. Still it felt that with a little while to spare, and if the weather would go for any worse, he would be one whimpering. And the sailors would probably have been the one in displeasure.

" I haven't been home for so many years that I barely even remember the weather we've had. I'm sorely tempted to pass an opportunity to return home though for.."He tried to keep himself from showing the discomfort as easily on his face as he felt it. "I've learnt I was certainly not born for sea travel."

He smiled sheepishly.

"Well, never mind that now. You'll soon get your sea legs," said Samuels, who by now considered himself an old salt in comparison to the newcomer.

+Halley*

"Thank you. I'll hope you are right. And pray that there should be no worse weather than it is." Well by the movement of the ship it was a weather bad enough for his stomach, but if it had gotten worse he would be no better for the horse till his sea sickness past, than any of the sailors.

De Guarde rolled his eyes. He was amused to hear Samuels share his words of advice. He hadn't felt necessary to lead the groom about even if they've met when with the stallion. Barrow could do it, or some of the other sailors.

Halley bit into the biscuit a bit surprised by its hardness. The cheese was better.. if only slightly, and fresher since much of it has only been loaded before they left Lisbon.

"Have you a trial when you come on land.. so oppositely unmoving as this is moving?" He asked. They all looked as fresh as roses, which was to be expected. He'd seen a few of the ship's boys and earlier caught sight of a midshipman. He guessed he was an officer by the manner that the sailors greeted him and the coat he wore. Though some looked similar enough that he didn't know who was who.

"Oh.. I forget myself. I should spare questions for later, not during your mess!" He looked apologetic.

"If yer goin't'talk mayaswell be learning something." Westdale offered up.
"Sometimes yer see men sitting down outside when they just come off, getting their land legs, like." And sometimes the same men found their land legs other places, or otherways, but that wasn't polite talk for mess.

"BUt oftentimes it's like putting on a..new p[air of shoes. Uncomfortable fer a bit, but easily got used to."

" You aren't expecting poor weather that my shoes may be most in a crashing way to be forced on my feet?" Halley asked mildly amused yet grateful at the words of comfort and confirmation. Which he needed for even a few days at sea, if he were to feel this ill, would not be a time he looked forward to. Of course their sailing, with all hopes had, might not last too long. Yet he were not to underestimate the weather or the wind or in worse, the lack thereof.

De Guarde rolled his eyes and looked to Westdale then back at his fodder. As unpleasant as it always were. "Atleast the horse is not catchin' t' seasickness from 'im." He muttered under his breath.

Westdale shrugged, chewing his food slowly before swallowing it. "Yer asking if I reckon it's going ter blow, then?"
He was slightly confused from the syntax the man used, different to the style of talking on board he usually heard. Of course close proximity meant they all talked basically the same way anyway, all variations on a single theme.

He smiled at de Guarde, pleased to be included in such a way, but didn't make any attempt to catch the mutter. It was probably for the best that way.

"..if.." Halley lifted an eyebrow unsure of the question at first and then he nodded:" Yes. I believe I am so." He answered and studied the biscuit with a thoughtful and much less hungry expression on his face. The gentle movement of the floors beneath his feet kept his stomach precariously close to jutting out what it already contained.

"The weather shall remain.. as now?" He asked, and glanced at the boy. "I worry for the safety of the stallion and mares that we have aboard. "Which he did as well as his well being. "Though I am certain you have secured them most finely."

De Guarde lifted his gaze for a moment and then piped in:" There'll be a sure storm in a day.. 's wot ye are feelin'. t' landlubbers are t' first ter sense it. In their stomach." His lip curled in a slight smile, though he showed little indication he was pulling the man's leg. And the groom looked to believe him.

Westdale nodded, straight faced. "Tis one of t'problems when yer get a seasoned crew, ye know. We get so used ter it that t'small signs yer feeling now we don't."

He munched his food with obvious vigour and enjoyment, smacking his lips freely. "Course, means we save food, what ye won't be eatin."

De Guarde stole a glance at Westdale. The man knew well that this was a joke and yet he was backing him up with his additional reply. So startled he felt, that for a moment he sat there in silence. He had to make it seem as if he were having a mouthful of food, which prevented him from speaking, not to have the groom suspect a thing.

And so the man did not. For who else would know better,.. though this was an odd speculation if one considered it, than the sailors. How did it work though? Perhaps they were having him for a fool after all.

" It is only sea sickness that I have.." He began, carefully. "And so with the sea legs that I am to find." He nodded in the direction of Samuels who had so told him:" I should overcome that state." No, a fool they had made him , but he fell for it no longer. How these men reminded him of horses. Up to no good at times and making fools of their riders, but looking as well as if they've meant to do no harm.

" You may think it is only so, but that is all only a part of it..Then again.." De Guarde added finishing with half of his plate: "Landlubbers are a favourite of the rats. Fresh smell from the land.. 's what draws them. I'd be watchful where I sleep if I were you." His eyes were on the groom. It wasn't anything personal, the boy was solely still feeling sour about the sailor calling him an idiot. He spared another glance at Westdale, wondering if the man would agree and so did he glance at the other sailors. There have been many displeased by his presence as he was annoyed with his station.

Westdale raised one eyebrow at the man's insistance. "Only seasickness, is it?" he asked mildly, having fun now, always enjoying a good laugh. "But have ye not found it getting worse throughout t'day? I know a man who said it was only seasickness and he spent the next three days below decks," he nodded at de Guarde, "being nibbled on by rate and not allowed up due t'the big blow what was going on."

He shook his head, "But I'm sure t'horses will be fine."

Halfway through another mouthful he had an idea and swallowed quickly, "Course, t'good thing about being surrounded by rats is there's plenty ter eat...ye know when it's really rough sometime there ain't much time fer regular meals, like?"

It wasn't helping the groom any at all that he was suggested to eat the filthy rats that at times were more plump than cats and dogs that lived in the streets. So plump and so vile, that a child was to be kept safe from them. And to eat them, well just thinking of where they have been - memory come swift - he had felt his hand at his belly and one at his mouth, holding it in and fighting the thoughts plagueing his mind.

" There is .. such a time?.. and there are as plenty?" He asked worried and feeling that perhaps he was best to search his way back. He hadn't noticed the curious look that some of the sailors were giving him. It wasn't any harm in a bit of humour, so most kept silent.

Westdale looked him straight in the eye, "think on't man, if it's breezy and unsettled, then t'fires may well harm our decks, no? So we save ourselves by eating only cold food. But if we're busy then we're all busy, so there's little time for regular meals, like, is there? and meat is always welcome."

He smiled, "Ye could make a furtune, with all them rats flocking ter see ye."

"I've never seen such a behavour of rats while on land. I am certain that you ought to be wrong. Rats flocking to me? I've not seen a single one..well perhaps that is not correct." He had remembered one running past the stallion and nearly being trampled by his hooves. It then continued on it's way across the floors and disappeared swiftly into a hole. But other than that rat he saw none other.

" I have seen one, yet no more than that." He watched Westdale a moment convinced that he was right about his thesis. " You can't have so few here now." And that rat didn't come towards him neither.

De Guarde had remembered the ordeal and had to stand with the stallion trying to calm the biting beast down.. of which he had sported a bruise to his upper arm where the horse near wanted to bite a chunk from his flesh. "They come at night.. and sure you haven't seen as many in Portugal. As these rats are not like the ones where you lived. They are by far worse,.. sea rats of the kind, many a generation born on deck. And thus they'd be easy ter smell summat out of place and come ter investigate."

"He'd right, is de Guarde." Westdale said, "What smart rat- and we only get t'smart one- would run about a crowded, hungry, deck in full sight?"

He thought for a moment, still somewhat surprised that he was sitting here making fun with a lad who'd insulted him eagerly not too long ago, then added, 'Many thing on board are just seperate enough from t'ones on land ter be different. It's what marks a seasoned sailor from a pressed lubber, ye know."

De Guarde was as surprised as Westdale that they were sharing a joke... a sailor and himself, against an unfortunate landlubber. Of course, his soreness at the manner that he was spoken of earlier had asked for some respite. And so the groom was a prime and easy target. And it would so last till someone, perhaps Barrow or Chase, would pipe in and silence them.

" t' pressed lubber for one, don't know a thing on how ter catch a rat, not even how a fine meal they can be. Their smell bein' less of salt n' sea, they are quite so easily distinguished too. N' they sometime know who's rather ter fear them than chase 'em."

He paused and looked at Westdale again. This was the sailor that he was to insult and yell at. A sailor who had damaged his finger by what he thought was purpose.

Halley looked startled and torn. Torn between believing the two sailors and calling their bluff. Since the faces of the sailors closest, were somber enough or averted instead to their food, he could not use them to help himself judge. "Is there a trick how to keep those beasts at bay sooner than it is for me to loose the scent." Which working with the horse.. he might exchange at the very least.

Westdale frowned. "ye could swim, every morning and afternoon." he offered. "But then ye'd miss t'boat, likely."

There wasn't anything he could think of, off the top of his head, to get the man to do. Abandoning the horses would be easy, but then someone else (probably him, as there was always justice in the world) would have to do the job, if the man beleived them. But the chances of that were slim, with such a crew.

"Course, t'other people t'rats can tell apart is them what deal with any chooks or goats we've got on board." he said. "They make a tidy bit, just by having so many rats around them- t'smell rubs off, see?"

"Oh, don't listen to a word they say," Samuels cried, finally taking exception to the jokes. "They tried the same tales on me when I first came aboard, but they know very well that the rats will be down in the hold, where the food is. They won't be bothering you unless you go bothering them. Well, they might get at the horses' feed... but that's the same as any barn, isn't it? So don't you worry about them."

Billy grinned in amusement and then dropped his plate into the mess kid and handed it to De Guarde. "Here ye go, cookie." As mess cook of the week, it was part of De Guarde's duty to clean the dirty plates. Billy stood up from the sea chest where he had been sitting and said, "Come on, lads. I reckon we should leave him to his swab-and-scrubbing."

Young Oates looked back and gave the coxswain a smile of wide-eyed innocence. "No, but we should stay and watch, Beauty. It's not often we get to see young Matthew doin' a job of work!" which provoked a burst of general laughter.

"It is De Guarde, Oates..!" The youth snapped, his earlier sour mood returned. He glared at Billy and took the mess kid from him, his expression not changing at all as he looked at the collected body of merry men. His lips were in a thin line and so stiff against each other that they've lost much of their colour. His knuckles were white , gripping at the kid.

He looked at its contents. Each plate was scraped fairly by the men, though it was no where near clean.

"Ye'll all be gettin' yeselves to yer duties!" It was a tone he used to use when he were a midshipman. Commanding and at that moment, angry.

There was a single thought that kept him more at ease. A mess cook was entitled to something more. But he wondered if that something was worth the trouble and what he considered humiliation, as the one cleaning up after all the sailors and having their food served.

"Out with you!"

Halley was distracted by Samuels and now watched with mild interest at another example of the sailor's culture and ways. He tried to understand whether the task was a permanent to one man or whether it was appointed to one for a certain period of time. It did seem that whomever was appointed was going to clean things on his own, while the other sailors were free of that work. He had also figured that men teased newcomers and 'greenhorns' as much in the navy as they did in all professions.