Page 82 of Unlikely Heroes
“Brendan Smith, Admiral Collingwood,” came Smitty’s quiet reply.
“Come, come, you two, I haven’t all day,” the admiral said with some impatience.
Again Able listened. Nothing. He had been abandoned by his interesting array of observers, even Euclid, apparently. He stepped forward, Smitty at his side.
The admiral came closer until he stood less than a foot away from Able, who braced himself for the tongue lashing of his life, without knowing why. Pray God they wouldn’t take him back to Portsmouth in irons, and flog him around the fleet for whatever error he had committed at a battle he knew would never be forgotten, as long as Englishmen gathered. Please God that Meri wouldn’t have to share his shame. He closed his eyes.
When he opened them, Admiral Collingwood was smiling. “Master Six, without exception, every commander in this room sailed into action yesterday with loaded cannon and powder and balls to spare. You and theMercurysailed in with absolutely nothing except…” He paused. Able stared to see the great man’s eyes misting. He swallowed. “Except raw courage such as none of us have ever seen. Why?”
“Admiral, we didn’thaveany cannon,” Able managed to say. He was unprepared for the laughter that followed. At least it didn’t sound malicious. Collingwood raised his eyebrows and the laugher stopped.
“We…we had nothing, but England needed us. All we workhouse bastards ever have is nothing. We’re used to nothing.” He didn’t mean to raise his voice. “Sir.”
The silence in the cabin was so complete that Able heard sea birds for the first time in two days. He heard pots banging several decks below as cooks prepared the noon meal. Two ships over he heard pumps clanging, homely sounds he had listened to all of his nautical life. And much farther away, was that Meri singing to Ben, his own dear wife and others like her, safe from Napoleon now? He felt himself relax, even as he wished he hadn’t sounded so emphatic.
Collingwood cleared his throat again. He looked around the cabin. “You are right. England does need you. We will never forget your courage, you and your…Smitty, what are you called?”
God bless Smitty. “Gunwharf Rats, sir,” he said, his voice firm.
“None of us will forget, will we, gentlemen?”
Someone started a hip-hip-hooray. Three times it rang out. Able looked down at his feet, wishing with all his heart, lungs and various other viscera that Sir B were there to hear this, and Thaddeus Croker, and even his butler Bertram, who saw St. Brendan the Navigator School as a tool for resuscitating a man in need of reformation. And the workhouse lads, eager to prove themselves, once they knew they mattered.Meri, would to God you were here beside me, you and Ben and our tiny portable daughter.
“We would do it again, and gladly, sir,” he said quietly, his words meant for Admiral Collingwood’s ears alone.
“I know you would, Master Six,” the Mediterranean fleet’s new commander said. He clapped his hands together, recalling them all to the moment. “We tricked you here, Master Six! I have already concluded my fleet business with these gentlemen, who may now return to their ships and prepare for what awaits us next. I doubt it will be pleasant, but that is war. No, you and Captain Lapenotiere remain, please, and you, Smitty.”
In mere moments it was just the four of them. Collingwood returned to his desk, gestured them closer, and picked up a canvas bag. “The news of yesterday’s work, and our extreme sorrow at the loss of my dear friend and ablest of men, must be carried swiftly to England.” He looked from Able to Captain Lapenotiere. “Which of you commands the fastest vessel?”
I do, Able thought, but remained silent. He knew that the captain of that fast ship would be signaled out for promotion and other accolades, because the public loved heroes. He also knew Captain Lapenotiere was an ambitious commander – and a good one – who had not advanced far in the navy because for all his talents, he had no patronage or famous relative to help him along. He also outranked Able in all the ways known to the society they inhabited.
“In actual fact, sir, it is theMercury,” Captain Lapenotiere said, with no hesitation.
Was it possible to be so stupefied, so blindsided in the course of one morning? For his entire life, his cranial busybodies had invaded all aspects of his life, coaxing, prodding, letting him know what might come to pass, warning him. Where were they, now that something so kind had been thrown into his lap?
Maybe not so far away. He heard Euclid chuckle, and say,You know what to do. Able Six, master genius, took heart. “But not by much, Admiral,” he said promptly, and took a deep, satisfying breath. “I yield to thePickle. She is bigger, and we are looking at stormy seas.”
Captain Lapenotiere flashed him a grateful look, which Admiral Collingwood took note of, but made no comment, addressing himself to Able. “You’re an exceptional man, Master Six. Not one ambitious tar in ten thousand would have turned down this opportunity to sail into history, because that is what thePicklewill do.”
“As she should,” Able said. “Admiral, all I wish is to return to St. Brendan’s and teach future sailing masters,” he said, “or whatever else my workhouse bastards might become. I know my acting surgeon is destined for greatness. You should have seen him yesterday.”
“You’ve convinced me,” Collingwood said as he handed the tarry bag to Captain Lapenotiere, who stared at it like he held frankincense and myrrh, before he tucked it under his arm. “Leave immediately, Captain, and fair winds to thePickle.Your promotion is assured.”
ThePickle’s commander saluted and darted from the cabin. Able smiled to hear him pounding up the ladder, then laughed out loud. “There goes our ride, Smitty!”
“No matter. I will see you to a jolly boat,” the admiral said. He clapped his hand on Smitty’s shoulder. “It’s going to be a long war, young man. Before you and Master Six came in here, I heard several of my captains wondering how soon they could spring you from St. Brendan’s. You’ll find a home in the fleet soon enough.”
“I do have one request, admiral,” Able said as Collingwood walked them to the door of his cabin.
“Say on.”
“I would like to retrieve Nick Bonfort from theVictory. He has been serving as Reverend Scott’s assistant. Correct me if I’m wrong, sir” – he heard Smitty snicker – “but I suspect that Napoleon will not attempt to invade our shores now.”
“I think not.” Admiral Collingwood waggled his finger at Able. “Would you also like me to suggest to Admiralty that theMercurybe relieved from further duties in the fleet?”
“If you would, sir, but do assure Admiralty that we will remain subject to the requirements of the service. I need to teach my Rats more, and Nick is one,” Able said simply. “We can confine our practice sails to the Solent, or perhaps down to Plymouth. Our goal remains training workhouse lads for the Royal Navy, in whatever capacity suits their skills. They are valuable in wartime, as you have expressed.”
“Consider it done.” The admiral opened the door, and his Marine guard snapped to attention. “We owe you a great debt.”
