Heart of Oak

14. Storm Warning

The carrier's cart wheeled sharply into the inn yard and jerked to a halt.

John Allday climbed down on to the cobbles and took a few moments to recover. It was no distance from the village of Fallowfield and back here to the Old Hyperion Inn. He usually walked it. But maybe not for a while.

Dick the carter waved to him. "Got some fruit, JohnЦ tes all today. I'll trot un round to the kitchen. "He was off without waiting for a response. He was no stranger here.

Allday leaned back carefully, allowing his muscles to unclench. The lane was in poor shape: too many heavy wagons using it, carrying ballast for the new road. It brought more business to the inn; Unis deserved that; but it would be better when things became quieter again.

He looked up at the sign, depicting the old Hyperion as he had known her. He was proud of it, and he smiled. Keep sailing, my girl! He felt the heat of the sun across his shoulders, but there was thunder about, a storm blowing in from Falmouth Bay. Rain would stop the farmers complaining. He straightened his back.

The stiffness was almost gone.

He looked across the yard toward the open stables. Two or three horses: so there were still some customers, wearing out their welcome. He checked himself. Where would we be without them? Where would I be? A light carriage too, shafts empty, a tarpaulin draped over the box. Some one else thought there was rain on the way.

Jack, their latest recruit since Tom Ozzard had shoved off one night, was rolling an empty cask carefully toward the cellar door. A good lad… He saw Allday and gave him a furtive "thumbs down'. He had learned a lot since coming to work for them.

So Harry Flinders was here. Allday sighed. He would have to make an effort, for Unis's sake.

She came to meet him, wiping her hands on her apron as he stooped to hug her. So small, but so strong in his arms, as any customer would be quick to discover if he tried to take liberties with her.

She was about to tell him, but he said, "I knows, my love," and crossed his heart with a grin. "I'll stand upwind of him!"

He moved to the door, careful to disguise any fatigue or discomfort from her.

She said, "That fellow Grimes is here again, "and waited for some comment. "The builder working on the Roxby house."

Allday glanced around the kitchen, taking quiet pleasure in the gleam of copper and the ranks of shining pewter. His unfinished model of Frobisher stood on one of the shelves, and he was strangely reluctant to complete it. Maybe a slight alteration to the foremast rigging was needed, or the rake of the bowsprit? Something. It had to be right.

Unis knew what he was thinking, although she said nothing.

John had intended it as a gift for Captain Adam, but the model of Frobisher might never be finished. To him it was not just any ship. It was their ship. John's last, and Sir Richard's, where he had fallen to an enemy marksman. But she knew the truth. Like the sea, in his heart he had never left it.

She considered Harry Flinders. John couldn't stand him, nor could most folk, unless they wanted a favour, but if you turned every one away you disliked for some reason, the Old Hyperion would soon be bankrupt.

She said gently, "Show your face, John. I've got a pie to finish."

He pushed open the door of the Long Room and summed up the few remaining customers. The tradesmen were at the market, or on their way to Falmouth, but there were still a couple of smartly dressed lawyers he recognized from previous visits. Kept to themselves; probably glad to get away from Truro. Some poor devil would be hanged for their efforts.

"Here he isЦ ask him about it!"

Unis's brother, also named John, gave him a wink as he clumped toward the parlour, clearly making his escape. Only when he walked was it apparent that he had lost a leg, long since, fighting in the line with the 31st Foot. But it had taken years, and all the care and encouragement of his sister, before he had talked about it.

Flinders was sitting in the corner, in what he grandly called "my usual chair', smiling like a snake as always. Gilt buttons on his waistcoat, almost military. How he loved to be admired, or so he thought.

Allday steeled himself. He had nothing against Henry Grimes, the builder. A fairly regular visitor to the inn since the road had begun, tearing down dwellings which had stood in its path and replacing them when the offers of compensation were made. Always busy, and giving employment to men thrown on the beach when the fighting had ended. He was also working at the Roxby house. No wonder Flinders was being so cosy.

He said, "How can I help?"

Flinders leaned back, one arm hanging down casually.

"I was telling my friend here that you were with the fleet for a good many years. You'd be the one to ask. "He gestured to Grimes, but his eyes remained on Allday. "The Great Mutiny, twenty or so years ago, wasn't it. Had the whole country squitterin "with fear that Boney would invade, with no ships to stop him! You must have been in the thick of it?"

Allday was surprised, but said cautiously, "I seen some of it, but I was at sea most of the time in the old Euryalus. In "97, it was. A bad time. "He was silent for a moment, reflecting. "But a lot of us seen it comin'."

Grimes said, "I was building ships in them days. Not tearing ‘em apart like today, "cause the country's running out of seasoned timber! "He chuckled. "But I do remember the mutiny. Some of us were doing repairs aboard one of the ships.

An emergency, we were told. "He touched his half-empty wine glass, his needle-sharp eyes suddenly distant, focusing on the past. "A seventy-four, she was. Nothing unusual. "He slapped the table, so that the two lawyers looked across at them. "And then it suddenly flared up all around us. We couldn't believe it was happening. Officers being driven from their posts, or treated like they was invisible. The captainЦ I can see him nowЦ yelling orders, cursing like he was goin "to explode."

He dropped his voice, as if still shocked by the memory. "Only the marines stood fast, a line of ‘em across the deck, when the captain ordered ‘em to fire on the mutineers. The officer in charge was about to give the command to shoot. "He hesitated.

"I can remember… it was so quiet… the men just standing and staring into the muskets. Then, one shot, an' the officer laid with his face blown away."

Allday said, "There were a few things like that. Some of us…"

Flinders interrupted, "It was murder. A long time ago, but you witnessed it."

Grimes said uneasily, "Bad times. A lot of men were pressed, an' they hated the navy an' the discipline."

Allday said: 7 was pressed. With my old friend Bryan Ferguson, rest his soul."

Flinders said abruptly, "Another round. "Grimes was shaking his head, peering around for the clock. Flinders ignored him. "There's a Rear-Admiral Herrick staying at the house. You know him pretty well, I believe?"

Allday nodded. The house. As if he still belonged there. Part of it.

"I wonder what he "d have to say if he knew the man who shot down an officer in cold blood was still alive."

Grimes said, "We don't know that!"

Flinders waited as the other John strode heavily to their table, refilled the glasses and poured a measure for Allday. A door banged shut. The two lawyers were gone.

Grimes said, "I can't be sure. What would people say if I was mistaken?"

Flinders shrugged. "I think Rear-Admiral Herrick should be told. It is his duty. "He turned hard eyes on Allday. "There are others we should consider, don't you agree?"

He stood up suddenly. There was wine on his immaculate waistcoat, like blood.

He grinned, showing his strong teeth. "I've got work to do.

They'd all fall asleep if I didn't watch ‘em!"

He picked up his hat and walked to the door, and Allday heard him calling out to some one, maybe the dark-haired Nessa. She would be coming back from her walk with little Katie. He would get no encouragement there.

Grimes repeated, "I can't be sure. All those years."

He was feeling in his purse. Unlike Flinders, who seldom paid.

"Some one you met?"

Grimes looked past him, avoiding his eyes.

"He came to the Bolitho house, brought a letter from Captain Bolitho. Needed work. Dan Yovell seemed to think it was fair and square, and you know nothing slips past that one. But I can't swear to it. "He stood up, shaking his head. "These times, you can't be certain of anything. "He dropped some coins in a plate and Allday watched him leave. Probably just gossip, and they should be used to that here. And Sir Richard's sister would know or sense if there was some one flying false colours under that roof.

He touched his cheek, remembering Captain Adam's lady, when she had kissed him in front of all those folk after Bryan's funeral.

"What did you make of all that? "His brother-in-law must have had his ear to the door. "Henry Grimes doesn't seem too certain, specially after a glass or two. "He laughed and tipped the plate of coins into his apron. "I can think of several bloody officers I could've shot, given half the chance!"

"But you didn't, did you?"

He listened to the horse clattering past the windows.

"You've made up your mind, then?"

"I was going up to the house anyway. "He was surprised that the lie came so easily.

The other John looked at him keenly, but said only, "Thought you might."

Allday went out, and he heard him talking to young Jack in the yard; otherwise the inn was silent. Until work on the road stopped for the day.

He looked along the room, at the cheerful prints and polished brasses, and turned to join the others in the kitchen.

Nessa would be there. He tried to put the latest piece of gossip out of his mind. It was best left alone, forgotten. But some people could never let things die.

He glanced again around the room, so quiet now, and stooped and touched his wooden leg. "We won, didn't we?" For some, it was not enough.

Herrick stood by one of the tall windows watching the steam rise from puddles on the terrace. The rain had been sudden and heavy, but the sky was almost clear again, the sun as brilliant as before. He had heard a carriage: Nancy was back, and he was relieved. Even the best horses could be difficult when there was thunder in the air.

She hurried through the door, throwing off her cape and shaking out her hair.

"Oh, Thomas, you're here already! I so hoped…" She broke off, gazing at the loose wrappings on the floor. "What's this? "And then, recognizing it, "She said it was on its way.

Thank you for dealing with it, bless you!"

"Special carrier, "he said rather stiffly. "All the way from London. I hope it was worth it."

She tugged the remaining wrappings away. The harp had arrived before Lowenna.

She brushed some straw from her sleeve. "Well, I'm no expert, but it looks undamaged…" and turned toward him as he said, "I would have done that. ButЦ"

She came to him and touched his face gently.

"I know that"

Neither of them looked at his empty sleeve.

Then she said, "She should be here today. I hope the roads are clear."

She ran her fingers over the harp, seeing the other, twisted and burned, in the Old Glebe House.

"It belongs here now."

Herrick said, "I was early. The storm… the builders had to stop work."

"And I was late. "She glanced at the bell-cord, but changed her mind. "I was over at Magpie Cottage… Tresidders'. She's just had a baby. "She shook her head and her hair fell across her shoulder like a young girl's. "What would you know about that? You sailors are all alike!"

"I don't know what they would do without you, Nancy."

She said in a low voice, "Or I without them. The house will be finished soon… and I'll be a visitor here once more. So you see…"

"Your sonЦ "he tried to soften it, hearing the austerity in his own voice "ЦJames has great plans for theЦ your estate.

Some of it will be used to train and berth young doctors. He says the scheme would be welcome, and successful."

"He never gives up. Like his father."

Herrick said, "I shall have to be moving along, too."

She took his hard hand in both of hers.

"You belong here with us, Thomas. Can't you feel that?"

He returned her grip, and could not meet her gaze, afraid that he would hurt her, lose her.

She is not mine to lose.

He said awkwardly, "He's offered me a position there.

If…"

She tightened her grip.

"I thought there was something. So you see?"

"I shall be getting my pay. Half-pay, from now on."

There were voices in the hall, a dog barking, some one laughing. He had left it too late.

"What do you want, Thomas?"

"I want you, Nancy. I have no right, but…"

The door swung open and somebody coughed, perhaps apologized, and withdrew. Herrick heard none of it. She was holding him.

Only her words: "You have every right, dear Thomas!"

George Tolan quickened his pace as the first heavy drops hissed into the long grass at the roadside. He had seen a disused barn close by on one of his previous walks; it would offer some cover until the storm had blown over.

Tolan enjoyed walking, despite, or perhaps because of, his time as a foot-soldier. Even aboard ship he had tried to maintain the exercise, pacing the deck or gangways to the amusement or irritation of the sailors.

There was an inn somewhere; Daniel Yovell had mentioned it while they had been chatting. Sounding me out. With Yovell, you could never be sure.

Tolan had already discovered it, a tiny place used mainly by farm workers straight from the fields, but sometimes by the squires themselves. He felt welcome there, unlike his first visit, when he had met complete silence, blank stares, impenetrable dialect, or at best a version of the carter's, "You'll be a stranger in these parts?"

Like working at the Bolitho house: it had taken time. But he had finally been accepted, and most of them called him by name now. The barriers had come down.

He even worked alongside Yovell in his little office, helping with the estate business and balancing the accounts, something he had learned all those years ago in the grocer's shop while his father had been recovering from a bout of heavy drinking with his mates at Kingston market. He could even think of that now without pain or anger.

But he was always on guard against the casual remark or question that came without warning. Where did you serve? What ship was that? Did you ever meet so-and-so? And worst of all, like that day at the Roxby house, when Grimes the builder had said outright, "Don't I know you?"

He saw the derelict barn and ran the last few yards, heard the hail clattering on the remaining slates. It would not last long.

He thought of the one called Flinders. A real bastard, full of his own authority and enjoyed making a show of it, even at the Bolitho house. Yovell kept his opinions to himself, but Tolan had inferred a good deal from what was left unspoken. Yovell had no time for him.

And the girl named Jenna smiled at Tolan now, whenever they chanced to meet.

He kicked at some loose stones. It was madness even to think about her.

There was another vivid streak of lightning, but the trees screened most of it.

How much could Grimes really remember?

The past was always there, lying in wait like a man-trap even as he attempted to build a new life. To escape.

There had been some dockyard workers on board that day, trying to continue their repairs even as the mutiny was exploding around them.

He ducked instinctively as a deafening crash of thunder brought more slates down from the roof, and simultaneously a flash so bright that he was blinded for a moment.

He seized something, part of the wall, mind reeling to other sounds, the wake of a broadside, the deck shuddering as spars plunged down through the smoke of battle.

It was over immediately, but he could still smell it, taste it, although the sun was already breaking through, and the rain had lessened. Utterly quiet, as if a great door had been slammed shut, or he was suddenly deaf.

He stepped out into the open and across deep pools of rainwater, one of which reflected the sky, steel blue, like a mirror.

He stared down the narrow road, the long grass glittering now in the sun. Storm or no storm, somebody was on the move. A horse, trotting slowly at first and then picking up speed.

But it was not a horse. It was a pony, riderless and moving fast.

Tolan quickened his pace, his mind very clear. He had seen the pony at the house once or twice, harnessed to a little trap.

A friend of Daniel Yovell's had used it before…

The scream pierced his deafness, and Tolan was running with all his strength even before the sound died. The lightning had struck a tree. The pony had been dragging the remains of a harness. Some one was hurt. Only a woman could scream like that.

He reached a bend in the road, where he recalled seeing a stream nearby. He jerked to a halt, feet sliding in mud; the only sound now was his own gasping. Taking it all in: the tree split in halves and scorched, still smoking, the remains of the little vehicle crushed beneath it, one wheel lying on the other side of the road.

There were two men by the tree, one on his knees by the wrecked trap, the other holding up something small and gold that winked in the sun. Both men were staring in his direction, motionless, like unskilled players waiting for a cue.

But Tolan saw only the woman lying beside the wreck. A girl, hair caught in one of the branches, the fabric of her gown torn, revealing the pale skin beneath.

He could remember seeing her for the first time, striding past the stables, head in the air. pity the poor devil who tries to make his way with she! Only a matter of seconds, but it seemed forever before any one moved.

They were roughly dressed, unshaven, vagrants or on the run. He had heard some talk about convicts being used to clear the way for a stretch of the new road.

One said, "Get on with itЦ I'll take care o "this "un! "He was crouching, a blade shining in his fist. The other had hidden the jewellery inside his coat. Tolan saw him bare his teeth as he tore at the girl's clothing, heard him swear as she pushed him away. Her scream was cut short when he struck her again.

Tolan shut it from his mind, the girl, too terrified now to move, the figure bending across her, tearing at her like a wild animal. He watched the other man, feeling his intent, his confidence, seeing the knife, in shadow now, held against his hip. No stranger to violence and the fear it created.

An unarmed man would turn and run.

He moved slightly, the weight on his right foot, saw the eyes move quickly, the blade catch the sun again. He twisted around and threw himself almost to his knees. A split second, and he would have failed. The blade would seal it.

He felt the other man blunder against and over his shoulder, the force of his lunge throwing him aside like a bundle of rags.

Tolan felt a blow in his side, the breath gasping into his face, his eyes shutting out all else.

He twisted his wrist, pulling him down; his own weight and the thrust of his arm would do the rest.

It was like some terrible madness. The sergeant's hard, cheerful voice at the barracks. Thumb on the blade, my son, and stab upwards! He felt him shudder, unable to scream or make any other sound. Choking on his own blood.

Tolan was on his feet, ready for the other one, but he had vanished. There were voices, horses… how could he not have heard the wheels? He staggered and almost lost his balance, but there was a hand on his arm, another taking the knife.

"You did us proud, matey! "He must have kicked the man on the ground. "We'll see how brave you can be at the end of a rope!"

The girl was here too, holding the fabric across her shoulder.

Some one called, "You all right, Miss Elizabeth?"

She nodded, pushing some hair from her face, staring at Tolan with clear, grey-blue eyes.

She said in a steady voice, "He saved my life."

Only then, she began to sob.

Yovell reached out to assist her, but dropped his hands as she exclaimed, "I am not a child!"

And Allday still stood near the sprawled body, holding the knife, and watching the others. It had all happened so fast. He had been with Yovell when the alarm had been raised and troopers had been seen searching in the fields for some escaped prisoners; he had heard their dogs baying like wolves.

He said, "They'll soon catch the other bastard, "and looked down at the contorted face and empty eyes. "This one's cheated Jack Ketch."

He tossed the knife down and took another deep breath. No pain. Nothing.

He saw the little pony trotting around the bend in the road, led by one of the stable boys. Everybody was here, it seemed.

Yovell called, "I'll see you back at the house, John. You had something to tell me?"

Allday put his hand on Tolan's shoulder, and knew the girl was watching from the carriage window.

"It can wait! Take care of her!"

Francis, the Roxby coachman, touched his hat and flicked the reins. Allday wanted to force it from his mind. It might have been Unis. It might have been my Katie.

He looked at Tolan; there were bloodstains on the cuff of the smart coat.

"My wife'11 soon deal with that. "He gripped his shoulder and felt him tense. "You an' me need a nice wet! "He grinned.

"An' that's no error!"

They walked to the road together. Once Tolan looked back, but somebody had covered the corpse with an old horse blanket.

A close-run thing, which might have ended with his death.

But, like the storm, it was over. He felt the heavy hand on his shoulder: part of the Bolitho legend. He had found a friend.