Day of Honor 01_ Ancient Blood - Diane Carey [44]
“Aye, sir,” several of the men responded. They seemed ready to do exactly that, so he’d apparently thought right.
Without taking the moment to pat himself on the back, he noticed that quite a bit of this sailing-ship business simply involved common sense and simple observation. Rationally, of course, he knew he could commonsense around for a year and still not know everything. Still, the crash course was operative.
“Officers midships, please.”
Picard looked at Nightingale and Alexander. “Come with me, boys.”
They thunked across the deck planks sixty feet or so to midships, and joined the captain, the captain of the marines, and the other lieutenants. Picard moved next to Mr. Pennington, who was clutching a bloody right arm.
“You all right, Mr. Pennington?” he asked sociably.
“Well enough,” the first officer rasped, obviously grappling with considerable pain. “The ball missed the bone.”
“Let me bind it up for you.”
The bulky man leaned back on the ship’s rail. “Thank you … thank you very much. Very kind.”
Picard glanced around and was gratified to receive Nightingale’s instant donation of a black neckerchief.
The captain appeared around the mainmast after observing the retreat of the spider catchers. “We’re aground, gentlemen,” he said simply. “We have to get off immediately. There’s also damage to the rudder from that swivel gun. Mr. Simon and the carpenter’s crew are about to go offboard to attempt repairs. We must be able to steer the ship, or we are lost. Clearly, the insurgents will be coming back now that we’re foundering. We must act quickly. We’ll have to warp her out.”
Tying a sturdy bandage around Pennington’s wound, Picard smiled and shook his head.
“Is something funny?” Pennington asked.
“Oh, no, no, sir,” Picard demurred. “Just thought of something else. Sorry.”
Alexander pulled on his sleeve and whispered, “He said warp! Do they have warp speed?”
“No, no … this is where the phrase came from. It’s rather comforting how little some things change.”
“Mr. Picard?” the captain said sharply, annoyed by the murmuring. “You have something to suggest?”
Picard faced him. “Well, yes, sir. I’d like to volunteer to lead the away team—the landing party.”
“Very well Take Mr. Nightingale and one other fellow, and go ashore with a hawser. Make fast to a tree, and we’ll use the capstan to reel the ship off the bar. Once we’ve done that, you shall unmake the line, travel north on the shore, make fast to another tree, and we’ll warp the ship up the coast until we find better bottom. Mr. Chappell, run all but four of the guns inboard and secure them until we get off the bar.”
A young lieutenant nodded. “Very good, sir.”
“Let’s station Captain Newton’s marines on deck as security until we can run the guns out again.”
“Aye, sir.”
“And make certain the hold is secure also. I thought I felt some shifting.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
“Oh, and Mr. Picard—”
“Sir?”
“Take along a marine with you as your armed guard.
” Picard nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
He pressed back a smile. This business of taking orders was downright nostalgic, and easier than he’d remembered. Been a long time. He found some comfort in it, letting somebody else decide.
“Take that marine,” Alexander suggested excitedly, pointing at the tall blond fellow who had caught their eye before.
The captain had started to walk away, but now turned back. “Yes, fine, take the sergeant with you. Mr. Pennington, where do you believe we’re aground?”
“Where, sir?”
“Where on the hull.”
“Oh—midships, sir. Midships to the stern, sir.”
“I’d say that as well. Better run six of the guns on each aft deck up forward of midships. Shift the weight off the aft keel. Pay out a heavy warping line …”
He paused, looked down at the tilted deck, and seemed troubled.
“Perhaps a spring line, sir?” Pennington suggested.
The captain nodded. “I was thinking that, but as I consider it now, I believe we’d rather swing the bow about. Run the