By Cape Mondego

"M not saying we should trust him." Westdale said, and trailed off, not sure what he was saying, exactly, "But..well..we've been a-working hard, and we've nowt ter do with him, see, 'e had a marine with him, didn't he? We can just...sit and eat."

He suited actions to words, piling a plate and dropping down on the hard bench. A rest would be nice, but this was coupled with food and would go down just as well.

Turner's eyes narrowed. "Why'd you care so much? Why'd you want us to go back?"

".. He's trusted too much not bein' locked up .. at t' very least!" He slipped into his seat and lay his arm tenderly against the hard surface. He winced, readjusted the possition, and did one more time before he let it rest under the table, and went to use his other.

"A full plate was just what he needed, and a mug of something to drink wasn't going by too badly either. "..so much work.. n' so little ter show for it. 'tleast we weren' stuck on land with nothin' ter do." He took another mouthful, but took care not to talk when he ate. Though perhaps if asked, he'd have rather done that. Sit back, relax while the doctor went away plucking at someone's head. He wondered if Crozier survived the operation and if he would survive to live another day. He hoped he did and would.

"wEll, we're heading fer ter pick 'em up, now, and we moved a wee ways." Westdale was truthful, though not exactly cheerful in his assesment. "It'll take us a while, ecen if they come ter us as well."

He munched his own meat quickly, hunger overcoming fatigue for a while, before he settled into a slower chewing, "Iter'd be itnerestin ter see what they was up ter, on land." he muttered, quietly. And it'd be more relaxing than this wretched hauling, rowing, hauling thing they were getting into now.

"Because the doctor - both doctors are friends. I do not like to see them left while ... " While this ship chases one of my nation's ships? Not the most tactful of comments, Raoul thought. "Your surgeon treated a injury I suffered - if he has survived the operation, he should be back on the ship."

"Well, think it shouldn't 'ave been much. They've all been sent there ter help t' doctor n' t' guard him n'all. Almos' like a trip t' town while in port.. jus' without t' town itself." He ate near half of the food on his plate, and was working his way through the the next.

Above decks the wind was very slowly gaining on it's strength. It was no longer playing a fool of a ship who's general manner of movement was thanks to the breath of the wind.

"We din't leave them," said Turner, angered by the implied criticism. His grip tightened, and he pulled the Frenchman towards the companionway. "Captain needed to investigate."

"But there'd be 'toperation." he coutnered, looking up at the movement of the ship. Hah. Those men would have just got out into the boats and be rowing, sure they were about to get the notice to row back on board.

"ANd they wouldn't have ter do this...though they'd be gettin' hungry." he added, watching de Guarde devour the food with all due haste.

"They'um on land. Can't be that hard ter find summat to feed yeself with. Not as easy as comin' down fer dinner.." He knew they'd have to save some of the food for Chase and Barrow and any other sailor of their mess. The marines would of course take care of their own. That left him thinking about Thompson for a moment. He needed to tell him what transpired that day, though perhaps he would hear it from his own mess? Would Oxley have told anyone?

He was finished with the food, before he had even the time to consider what it tasted of. And with an empty plate he leaned back a little, sighing. "...'think it returned."

"SO long as they're alright, it shouldna matter one way or t'other."
He ate his own food with little relish, but with plenty of joy in the filling of his stomach.

"Feels like we'll be moving faster, soon."

Raoul wrenched his arm away. "Very well - there is no need to manhandle me. I am not a threat, to your ship or your Captain."

"I asked you nice-like, sir, and you just stayed on loitering. Below now, quiet as ye like."

"Settin' sail.. runnin' up t' shrouds, hopin' .."He didn't finish. Better not, for he did not wish to bring bad luck by a few foolishly spoken words. Surely, he did not believe in things as Tars did, but there was just the example of some that he prefered not to tamper with.

His shirt had coloured the darker red where it had pressed to the cut. Beneath the bruise would certainly blossom, a bit about the injured area. His other arm only suffered a bruise and no more, and as such only due to attempting to aid his first.

"'s long as t' doctor saved our own...." It was quite odd to speak about the worry of another. " It should be all well."

WEstdale tapped the wooden table, pleased de Guarde hadn't finished the sentance.
"Doctor Maturin will have sorted it all out- or if he couldn't, there'll be no saving Doctor Crozier." He'd heard the stories as well as anyone.

"Yer just bruised, then?"

Raoul stared at the Marine for a moment, and then shrugged. "You will be able to use the sails soon, I think. Which should be better than boats." Although that presumably depended on the way the wind blew. If Stephen had been here, he could have asked, but this red coated obstructive idiot was not going to let him speak to any of the officers. He clearly had to obey - or risk being shot.

"Any halfwit knows that, cully." Turner resisted the urge to shove the loitering bastard down the companionway.

Private Oxley wrote:Pretend?

"If it was all only a pretend, you're still wiser'n what I am. You're older'n me, see. Makes you wiser, don't it, 'cause you know more 'bout stuff than I do." He shrugged. "It worked, though. I was just goin' to keep away from him if I could. Only, what you said, and what the Lieutenant said... Well, I figured it'd be worth tryin' to say sorry. 'Cause, well, I did say things to him I oughtn't have said."

Foley grinned. "Weren't only pretend, I'm just teasin'. Half of bein' wise is knowin' how to look at somethin' in another way, like your trouble with that Tar. Doesn't always come with age, that. It worked out nice, though, didn't it?"

"It did, much better'n I thought it would." Oxley nodded, grinning. "So, I come off duty and seen him over by the boat, and asked if I could have a quick word, like, up for'rard." He shrugged. "Wasn't goin' to risk him takin' another swing at me, an' though it'd be best if folks could see what was goin' on, like. An' he says yes, so I says to him that I'm sorry for what I said, an' I didn't mean to sound, well, like I was sayin' anything bad about him. And he said sorry back, and we had a bit of a talk."

He pulled his hat off and ran a hand through his hair. "Said he'd never had a friend afore, and that's why he talks so much with Thompson." He frowned and looked at Foley. "I jus'... don't understand how someone can get to be fourteen and never have had a friend. No wonder he sounded upset when I heard him, t'other night."

Somehow, Foley found it easy to believe Oxley's report. The Tar, De Guarde, didn't seem like the type to know how to be honestly friendly. From what little he'd seen of the boy, anyway.

"It happens," he said. "Hard to say why that's so, but it's sure not a bad thing to try and change it. You done well, boyo."

"I think I done the right thing, talkin' to him a bit. He needs to learn to have fun though, that's what."

Maybe a skylarking - a proper one, with all the ship's boys - would help a bit. If the others wanted to join in when they knew de Guarde was going to be there, anyway.

"He tole me he's fourteen," he said, putting his hat back on. "But he seems, well, all old and grown up and serious and, I dunno. Boring, sometimes. Like he's never had fun and don't know how to."

He shrugged helplessly. "And if he don't try scrappin' with me ag'in, I'm goin' to try to get him to join in a bit with the rest of us. He needs to, that's what."

Stephen Maturin wrote:"Any halfwit knows that, cully." Turner resisted the urge to shove the loitering bastard down the companionway.

"Clearly," Raoul said, and grimaced. "Very well." It would do him no good to argue, or even to attempt to persuade this man to allow him to stay. Anger was not a useful emotion. He turned and headed towards the companionway.

John Westdale wrote:WEstdale tapped the wooden table, pleased de Guarde hadn't finished the sentance.
"Doctor Maturin will have sorted it all out- or if he couldn't, there'll be no saving Doctor Crozier." He'd heard the stories as well as anyone.

"Yer just bruised, then?"

"Am not t' doctor now, am I." He answered a little stiffly and shrugged. "..But i'um havin' both me arms still attached n' in motion.. so sure ain't no broken limb." Though the swelling - of a bruise - close to the elbow did start to feel uncomfortable.

"We'll see t' doctors soon 'enough." With the wind cooperating with them. He'd finished his plate and slipped of his sea chest seat to carry the thing over to the rest. With his back turned to Westdale for a little he held his arm out and tapped the plate in.

He returned quickly, slipping into his seat beside Westdale, and looking at the Tar. It felt a bit empty by their table, when enough of their fellow mess mates made up the Shore party.

And then the wailing call of the Bosun was heard, for the wind had picked up even more, and with the great possibility that it was to go, it would be a waste not to use it now. And they were expected to have eaten as well.

"Up!" He spoke quickly, forgetting himself for a moment there. "Um.. come, Westdale. 'is our turn t' hug t' sails." He said a wee bit kinder and more as an equal than a boy in command.

Westdale shoved his own empty plate in the general direction of 'away', shooing de Guarde before him. "Tis always our turn." he grinned, adding, more quietly, "and I reckon yer learning one or two things, yer know?"

It was good to have had even a short break, and now scrambling back into position wasn't as rough a job as it had seemed half an hour ago, back in the boats. This was much more like it. Actually being able ter feel her move beneath them, instead of creeping around like snails.

"Aye... that I completely and utterly loathe rowing." He answered looking back over his shoulder. "n'.. that a Tar's job's never done." He added with a scowl and winced. He said nothing about the wind. Complaining about that might silence it again, and though he was eager to see the larboard watch row, he was much less eager to have it be their turn again.

He quickened his pace a little and jerked his arm away from Westdale's reach. "Wot' did ye learn?" He asked, knowing that it was possibly nothing new, nothing from him atleast.

"Yer've stopped bleedin." he pulled ahead of de Guarde as they both moved upwards, "and..."he tossed a grin down, "I can almost still beat yer up here."

THere was clearly work to be done, hauling and hanging and knotting and who knew what else for the moment, but it was good to be able to smile while they set about it.