[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.There was no rush.He would have to turn the ship over to Captain Rafferty, of course, as law andtradition demanded, for the captain or more likely the commodore to assign aprize crew to bring it into port under the watch of theFairchild, while theBuff andSerry continued to try their luck.The fire had rendered pirate's mainsail useless, of course, but the jib hadjust been dropped when the halyards had been cut, and was probably more orless intact.A few seamen working a few hours could refly the jib and probablyimprovise some sort of mainsail from theBuffalo's immense stores, even if the pirates didn't have a spare mainsail aboard.Turning the felluca into a proper sloop could wait forMalta, and the less work it needed, the larger the prize shares.For the time being, though, the ship was Tucker's, and nobody else's.Asalways, he would take the chance to nose around the lower deck of the prize,just out of curiousity.No souvenirs for the commander beyond a trinket or twothat would fit in his pouch Hennessy, who served as his batsman when he wasn'tseconding Nicol, snooped through his things, after all, and even sailorsdidn't gossip the way marines did when there wasn't anything better to do.Feet thundered from the ladder below, and Richards emerged, his hands empty,apparently having left his sword and helmet below, once the fighting was over.That was something that Tucker would want to deal with later a stiff word toFinnerty would suffice.Richards took up a stiff brace."Lieutenant Finnerty's compliments, sir, and he said that you he asks that youjoin him below at your convenience," Richards said.He didn't salute, of course, even though the rule was pointless at the moment.He probably couldn't have his right hand hung limp, bound up with a bloodystrip of cloth, a twin to the one tied tightly on his left thigh, but hiscuriass was intact, which was all to the good, and likely would need only agood binding of his wounds and a light leeching."For'ard? Or to the stern?" Tucker asked, already rising.He was reaching forhis sword whenFotheringay slipped it into his hand; his fingers closed reflexively aroundthe familiar grips.It wasn't one of those wonderfully cursed swords that awell-born Navy officer might carry, but it had, once again, done a fair enoughjob, as Tucker himself had, come to think of it."He's at the stern, sir," Richards said."We've some prisoners.""Ours?" Why would that idiot Finnerty take prisoners? Tucker had just had thatdiscussion with him, andPage 88 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html"Theirs, sir.And there's something else, too, he said."Tucker nodded, and turned to Fotheringay."See that Richards gets to thesurgeons," he said, walking away.Pour half a bottle of rum down the poorsod's throat, and the other half into the wound before the hacks sewed it upproper and then leeched him, and more than likely the arm could be saved and the sooner the better, while Tucker was as far away from Richards'sscreams as he could be.Yet another reason not to hurry himself back to theSerry."Holtz," Fotheringay shouted, "yes, you, unless there's another Holtz wearingcorporal's stripes.Get this man up to the surgeons, and quickly now." He hadn't fallen more thana step behind Tucker as he barked commands at Holtz, and deftly made his wayover the bodies and debris to beat Tucker to the hatchway, giving one of hislipped smiles as he nodded to the captain, then preceded him down.Tucker had to chuckle.Well, he hadn't explicitly ordered Fotheringay toescort Richards back to theSerenity, after all, and truth to tell, he thought, as he carefully descended down therickety ladder, Tucker liked having the old sergeant with him.He stood still and puffed on his pipe for a few moments, hoping to adjust hiseyes to the relative darkness belowdecks.There were no lanterns lit.Sunlight filtering through gaps in the planking ofthe deck above striped the deck, showing the usual after-fight abattoir, oneband falling across a pair of unblinking dead eyes so brightly that it was amoment before Tucker could make out that it was a naked pirate, and not one ofhis marines.The eyes always looked the same.He took a step forwardOw.Again, sparks jumped behind his eyes as pain shot through his aching head."God's teeth!"He hadn't seen the lantern hanging from the hook above, and the godforesakenthing had managed to impact directly on the already swelling bump on his head,just above the hairline."Begging your pardon, sir," Fotheringay said, making his way around Tucker.Heclomped a few steps up the ladder "McGarry is there some otherMcGarry? Do any of your bloody lot even know your own cursed names? yes, you, McGarry get me a torch down here.No, a torch, not a lantern they got bloody lanterns down here, you motherless son of a motherless idiot,but just get me a bloody torch, and be quick about it."Fotheringay hadn't quite finished his tirade when the torch was passed down tohim.He quickly lit the lantern, then extinguished the torch in a pool ofoffal on the deck, and led Tucker down the companionway, idly poking at eachand every one of the bodies with the tip of his pike before he passed.Past the compartment below the main deck, the companionway leading toward thestern was narrow, and the deck had been set high, presumably to allow morecargo space below; Tucker had to duck under each thick beam, although theshorter Fotheringay managed to clear them without any difficulty [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.There was no rush.He would have to turn the ship over to Captain Rafferty, of course, as law andtradition demanded, for the captain or more likely the commodore to assign aprize crew to bring it into port under the watch of theFairchild, while theBuff andSerry continued to try their luck.The fire had rendered pirate's mainsail useless, of course, but the jib hadjust been dropped when the halyards had been cut, and was probably more orless intact.A few seamen working a few hours could refly the jib and probablyimprovise some sort of mainsail from theBuffalo's immense stores, even if the pirates didn't have a spare mainsail aboard.Turning the felluca into a proper sloop could wait forMalta, and the less work it needed, the larger the prize shares.For the time being, though, the ship was Tucker's, and nobody else's.Asalways, he would take the chance to nose around the lower deck of the prize,just out of curiousity.No souvenirs for the commander beyond a trinket or twothat would fit in his pouch Hennessy, who served as his batsman when he wasn'tseconding Nicol, snooped through his things, after all, and even sailorsdidn't gossip the way marines did when there wasn't anything better to do.Feet thundered from the ladder below, and Richards emerged, his hands empty,apparently having left his sword and helmet below, once the fighting was over.That was something that Tucker would want to deal with later a stiff word toFinnerty would suffice.Richards took up a stiff brace."Lieutenant Finnerty's compliments, sir, and he said that you he asks that youjoin him below at your convenience," Richards said.He didn't salute, of course, even though the rule was pointless at the moment.He probably couldn't have his right hand hung limp, bound up with a bloodystrip of cloth, a twin to the one tied tightly on his left thigh, but hiscuriass was intact, which was all to the good, and likely would need only agood binding of his wounds and a light leeching."For'ard? Or to the stern?" Tucker asked, already rising.He was reaching forhis sword whenFotheringay slipped it into his hand; his fingers closed reflexively aroundthe familiar grips.It wasn't one of those wonderfully cursed swords that awell-born Navy officer might carry, but it had, once again, done a fair enoughjob, as Tucker himself had, come to think of it."He's at the stern, sir," Richards said."We've some prisoners.""Ours?" Why would that idiot Finnerty take prisoners? Tucker had just had thatdiscussion with him, andPage 88 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html"Theirs, sir.And there's something else, too, he said."Tucker nodded, and turned to Fotheringay."See that Richards gets to thesurgeons," he said, walking away.Pour half a bottle of rum down the poorsod's throat, and the other half into the wound before the hacks sewed it upproper and then leeched him, and more than likely the arm could be saved and the sooner the better, while Tucker was as far away from Richards'sscreams as he could be.Yet another reason not to hurry himself back to theSerry."Holtz," Fotheringay shouted, "yes, you, unless there's another Holtz wearingcorporal's stripes.Get this man up to the surgeons, and quickly now." He hadn't fallen more thana step behind Tucker as he barked commands at Holtz, and deftly made his wayover the bodies and debris to beat Tucker to the hatchway, giving one of hislipped smiles as he nodded to the captain, then preceded him down.Tucker had to chuckle.Well, he hadn't explicitly ordered Fotheringay toescort Richards back to theSerenity, after all, and truth to tell, he thought, as he carefully descended down therickety ladder, Tucker liked having the old sergeant with him.He stood still and puffed on his pipe for a few moments, hoping to adjust hiseyes to the relative darkness belowdecks.There were no lanterns lit.Sunlight filtering through gaps in the planking ofthe deck above striped the deck, showing the usual after-fight abattoir, oneband falling across a pair of unblinking dead eyes so brightly that it was amoment before Tucker could make out that it was a naked pirate, and not one ofhis marines.The eyes always looked the same.He took a step forwardOw.Again, sparks jumped behind his eyes as pain shot through his aching head."God's teeth!"He hadn't seen the lantern hanging from the hook above, and the godforesakenthing had managed to impact directly on the already swelling bump on his head,just above the hairline."Begging your pardon, sir," Fotheringay said, making his way around Tucker.Heclomped a few steps up the ladder "McGarry is there some otherMcGarry? Do any of your bloody lot even know your own cursed names? yes, you, McGarry get me a torch down here.No, a torch, not a lantern they got bloody lanterns down here, you motherless son of a motherless idiot,but just get me a bloody torch, and be quick about it."Fotheringay hadn't quite finished his tirade when the torch was passed down tohim.He quickly lit the lantern, then extinguished the torch in a pool ofoffal on the deck, and led Tucker down the companionway, idly poking at eachand every one of the bodies with the tip of his pike before he passed.Past the compartment below the main deck, the companionway leading toward thestern was narrow, and the deck had been set high, presumably to allow morecargo space below; Tucker had to duck under each thick beam, although theshorter Fotheringay managed to clear them without any difficulty [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]