Coming Aboard

"But sir, but sir!" he exclaimed, before briefly answering. "I'm Paul Perry. But sir! How could I pay someone when I'm stuck in here? If you was to go ask them, I wouldn't have a chance to pay them before you got there and they'd just tell the truth! And... the priest that married us, me and my wife! You'd believe a priest, wouldn't you, sir?"

"Of course I would believe a priest, but I am not about to send any of the men ashore to look for him!" Bolitho snapped. His patience was wearing thin. Nothing this man was saying had done anything to convince him that he was not a British sailor. "And obviously you could not have paid any of them now, so I'm sure you would have already paid them in advance, considering the likelihood of you being caught by a Navy ship sooner or later. I'm sure you would have taken precautions."

"But sir!" he protested again. "I never... I never woulda done that, because I wasn't looking to get caught by the navy - I mean, I wasn't thinking the British navy would come wanting to take me, seeing as how I'm not British! Nor never have been! I shoulda listened to my wife. She told me not to trust the British. I done your men a good turn in their boat when they was about to run into a reef, and what's my reward? Kidnapped and locked away--"

"That's enough, Perry," Bush interrupted impatiently.

He ignored the lieutenant. "You don't want me, sir. I'll stir up trouble with my American ideas and all! You should send me back. I sell wine to the French! You don't want a man--"

"I said enough!" Bush growled. He was indeed a fierce one. Perry closed his mouth but looked entreatingly up at the captain.

"Thank you Mr. Bush," Bolitho said quietly to the first lieutenant. Perry's incessant pleading was really beginning to grate on him, so he quite appreciated Bush having silenced the pressed man for the moment.

Turning back to Perry, he said, "We are at war Perry, and we need all the men we can get. I am glad to know that you aided my crew, for they are all good sailors, and experienced sailors are the most valuable of all." He paused, then said firmly, "British or not, you are in the King's service now."

Pity and reason clearly would not work with this man, nor a sense of moral justice. There was only one last reckless card to be played. "I'm not loyal to your king! And I won't fight for him. Your king can go to hell for all I care, and his royal bloody navy with him!"

Lieutenant Bush seized the man under the jaw, pushing his head back to meet the gaze of his own cold burning eyes. "You will fight, and you will work onboard this ship - whether to serve the king, or to save your own hide from flogging. Is that understood?"

Perry made an awkward nod and finally whispered "Yes, sir," before Bush released him.

Thompson sent a sympathetic look at the man. He wasn't the first man to be pressed to serve aboard a King's ship, and he wouldn't be the last. About the only thing he could choose was how to respond to it.

Bolitho waited until Bush had stepped away from Perry before speaking again.

"I will have you signed into the ship's books, and you will be read the Articles of War. From then on, you will be a part of the crew and will be subject to any and all punishments. And as Mr. Bush has said, it would be in your best interests to pull your weight--lest you incur a flogging. However, judging by your temperament, it might be best if you spent some time alone down here before you are signed in. Perhaps that will help you to remember the necessity of respecting your superior officers."

Whether the man's claims were true or false they would most likely never know. But now that Perry was going to be a part of the crew, he needed to learn his place. If he kept up this sort of cheek, he would run afoul of one of the officers sooner or later. And Bolitho felt that Perry surely would not wish to anger Bush again, considering the reaction he had just provoked from the first lieutenant.

Fletcher did his utmost to remain silent in the face of Captain Bolitho and an angry Mister Bush, but still sent Perry a somewhat pitying glance. He had heard what Kinsella had said, and it seemed that the American was most unfortunate indeed. Foolish, and unfortunate, as even he could see that hailing a Royal navy boat in English on a Portuguese coast and then running without explanation was an incredibly foolish thing to do. The misfortune was Perry's own doing, but it did not stop Fletcher feeling a little sympathy.

Sullenly, Perry forced himself to answer the captain with a quiet "Yes sir" while inwardly damning him with all the foul curses he could summon. He added several for the lieutenant too, and extra for the boy who had come to stare. Little pipsqueak, another of those blasted midshipmen, but this one barely old enough for service. He had come to gloat over the prisoner in irons, no doubt. That boy would never be clapped in irons; he would be the one giving such orders. The benefits of wealth. Ordinarily Perry would not have cared, would have accepted it as the general way of things. But now he smiled at the boy, hating every lily-white bone in his privileged little British body.

Bolitho was glad to find that Perry had at least resigned himself enough to remain silent. Though only time would tell if he would ever fully accept his fate. Then Bolitho turned away from the sailor and gave a quick nod to Bush and Fletcher before heading back topside.

Perry watched them go and said nothing. No doubt the marine would like to see him weep or hear him voice his despair. Well he would not have that satisfaction, Perry decided, though his heart might be breaking inside.

Thompson waited till the officers were gone before coming round to where Perry could see him without twisting awkwardly. He sent a cautious glance in the direction the officers had taken before squatting to be eye-to-eye with Perry.

"Lemme give you a bit of advice. Like I said earlier, it's up to you what you make of yourself here. You can stay resentin' everyone an' everythin', or you can decide to learn the trade an' be one of us. An' when they comes to put you on the books, you can be put down as 'prest' or 'volunteer', which'll tell them what you've decided. You can't run, but if you say 'volunteer', they'll let you have the bounty, which you can save or spend, or send home. Whatever you want."

Perry refused to meet his eye until he mentioned bounty. "Whaddya mean, bounty?" he asked suspiciously.

Thompson managed not to sigh. "Volunteers get paid a bit of money for, well, volunteerin', an' pressed men don't. I ain't sure how much it is, but I think it's summat like five or six guineas. Worth it, anyhow."

Perry shifted so he could bend his knees, leaning his elbows on them. He ran his fingers through his hair and stared at the planking, thinking on money. "Five or six guineas? In hand?"

Thompson nodded. "Aye, just for volunteerin'."

A noise below distracted him from his mercenary thoughts. "Is that horses?" he asked in confusion.

Thompson turned his head to listen. "Yep. We had three of 'em aboard, from Lisbon. Thank God they're gettin' landed - they was more trouble than they was worth. Stupid things. Dunno why we had to have 'em anyhow. One of 'em was the General's, an' you've never seen such a bad-tempered thing in your life."

And when he turned his head to look over his shoulder, he saw the amazing sight of a horse being raised through the main hatch, up from the hold below. "Well I'll be..." He stopped just short of damning himself while he stared in disbelief. "I never knew you could have horses on a frigate. What is this, 32 guns?"

Thompson nodded. "Aye. 32 guns, right enough. They stowed 'em in the hold, though it meant there was a lot of shiftin' of stores. Dunno that we ever got fully stored, though, 'cause of it all." He shrugged. "That's for the captain to worry about, though, not you an' me."

He leaned back and supported himself on his hands as he continued to watch the procedure. "What are they gonna do with 'em now?"

"Dunno. Prob'ly make 'em swim ashore. Safest way - ain't no way of gettin' horses on a transport from a ship that I know of. But then I ain't had much to do with horses, not to speak of. Though I do know they'm pretty powerful swimmers."

It was the stallion being hauled up, carefully - everyone remembered it was this one that had broken Donald's leg for him.

"They are that," Perry agreed. "Near my home, back in America, there's these islands full of wild horses. They say it was Spanish pirates what shipwrecked that brought them there - that the horses swam ashore and lived there ever since. White horses like ghosts, a lot of 'em." He stared at the stallion, wondering how far they were from shore now. If a horse could swim ashore, then perhaps a man could too.

There was a look of longing on Perry's face now and Thompson thought he could guess what the man was thinking. He shook his head. "I wouldn't try it, mate," he said. "There's Marines like me all over the place, armed an' all. It ain't worth it, really it ain't."

Perry smirked. "Try what?"