Master and Commander - 6. Chapter 6

May, 1794

Dawn found the seas empty, no sign of Aquilla or any other ships for that matter. “Mr. Carslake,” Granger called. “Why don't you ask our young gentlemen to plot our position?”

“Aye aye sir,” he said nervously. Granger used his own sextant to plot their position, and then watched the two midshipmen laboring away. They were only 100 miles away from Tenerife, and should reach the port late tonight or early tomorrow, depending on the weather. Finally they were done, and Granger inspected their results. They were both quite close.

“Well Mr. Fitzwilliam, Mr. Lennox, you have gotten quite close,” Granger said. “Well done.” They grinned at him, beaming at being right, and at pleasing their mercurial captain. “Your time with them has paid off well Mr. Carslake.”

“Thank you sir,” Carslake said.

“Helm, a point to larboard,” Granger ordered, adjusting their course to intersect Tenerife. He saw Calvert come up and tried not to smile at him too openly. It was wonderful having the Spaniard on board. They could share a cabin and have uninterrupted time in bed, to fuck and to cuddle. Calvert performed his own sights as well, at Granger's request, and confirmed their position. Colonel Avila came up then, and bid Granger a good morning.

“We should reach Tenerife tonight, or tomorrow, providing the wind stays with us Colonel,” Granger said, keeping him informed.

“That is excellent Captain,” he said. “You have a fast ship. The best of both worlds, perhaps.”

“Colonel?”

“A French ship with an English crew,” he said, in an amazingly flattering compliment.

“I thank you for your kind words sir,” Granger said, mindful of his manners. “Would it be acceptable for us to dine together this afternoon?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Avila said with a smile. He was a handsome man, with his black hair and olive complexion.

The masthead interrupted their conversation. “Sail ho! Deck there! Sail ho! On the starboard quarter!”

Granger pondered their situation while the Colonel eyed him gravely. He wanted to investigate, should investigate, but on the other hand, he had a small fortune in his hold, and Tenerife was clearly reachable in short order. He made his decision.

“Hands 'bout ship!” he ordered. “Mr. Calvert, an extra lookout with a glass in the foretop. I want to know what that ship is!”

“Captain, I must protest,” the Colonel said. “We must preserve our cargo and land the wounded as soon as possible.”

“I am aware of that Colonel,” Granger said severely. “We have but to tack into the wind for perhaps an hour or two to discover who this stranger is, then we can resume our original course. Morning will still find you safely in Tenerife.”

“And if we are captured?” he asked.

“It is unlikely that ship is faster than us, and if she is, we will most probably be able to overpower her,” Granger replied logically. It never ceased to amaze him, this defeatist attitude of continental Europeans when it came to naval engagements.

The wind began freshening as the morning drew on, making their climb to windward more difficult, but it sped the other ship closer to them. “Deck there! Ship is a frigate, Spanish by the look of her!” Granger took his scope and trained it ahead, seeing the frigate slowly come into view.

“Her mizzenmast is gone sir!” Humphreys declared.

“You are correct,” Granger observed. They watched as the Spaniard drew closer. “Hoist our colors Mr. Fitzwilliam. Flag at the main as well.” He wanted the Spaniard to know they were a friend.

“Aye aye sir!” Fitzwilliam said, and ran off with his party to run up their ensign.

“It appears to be one of your countrymen Colonel,” Granger observed, handing the glass to Avila.

He studied her for a bit. “She is El Gato, one of the frigates dispatched to fight off the French ship of the line.”

“Sir, the Spaniard is signaling!” Fitzwilliam cried. “I'm not sure, but I think it's 'Enemy in Sight.'”

“Deck there! I can see another sail beyond her!” called the lookout.

“Mr. Humphreys, I want you to climb to the foretop and tell me what you see,” Granger ordered. He turned to the others. “Scan the Spaniard carefully. I want to make sure she's still in Spanish hands.”

Time seemed to stand still as all three ships drew closer. Granger was loath to clear for action with all of their extra passengers, and with wounded scattered about their decks. He could not hope to fight a ship of the line anyway. “Colonel, I want to make sure El Gato is still in Spanish hands and that the colors she flies are not just a ruse. Your opinion?”

Avila understood Granger's concerns now, and looked much more carefully. “No Captain, she is Spanish. Capitan Valenzuela is there, on her deck, along with her officers.”

Humphreys came scampering up to them. “Sir, the other ship is a French 74. She's gaining on the Spaniard. From aloft I could see significant damage to the Don's stern. The way she's veering a bit sir, begging your pardon sir, but her rudder could be damaged.”

This was a fine state of affairs, Granger thought. If he fought the 74 with the frigate, they'd both be blown out of the water. His other option was to abandon the Spaniard to her fate, to watch her inevitable surrender to the French. He paced the deck, thinking, trying to come up with some alternative, some plan to escape from the French ship of the line.

The Spaniard was close now, less than eight cables away, and the French ship was clearly visible now as well. With his glass he could even see the shapes of her officers on her deck. Inspired, Granger began to rattle out orders.

“Mr. Calvert, heave to if you please,” Granger ordered.

“Sir?” he asked, then corrected himself. “Aye aye sir!”

“Mr. Fitzwilliam, make this signal: Intrepid to Flag. Enemy in sight.”

“Aye aye sir,” Fitzwilliam said, clearly confused. Granger watched the signal flags soaring up her mizzenmast.

“'Acknowledge', Mr. Fitzwilliam,” Granger ordered a few moments later, and those initial flags came fluttering down and the acknowledgement went up.

“Now signal “chase is enemy ship of the line”,” he ordered.

“Deck there! The Frog's hauled her wind! She's bearing off!” came the call from the foretop.

“Another signal Mr. Fitzwilliam. “Chase has hauled her wind,” and you may leave that flying.”

“Aye aye sir,” he said.

The Spanish frigate was up to them now, cheering as they passed Intrepid by. “Mr. Calvert, we will follow our Spanish friend to Tenerife,” Granger ordered. As the Spaniard passed them he could see the mauling the Frog had given them. Her stern was smashed to pieces, the gallery, probably once so beautiful, was ruined.

“So you made them think there were other ships beyond the horizon?” Avila asked.

“Yes Colonel,” Granger said. “They have no way of knowing whether or not there are powerful units just beyond their visual range. Intrepid would be just the kind of vessel sent to investigate a strange sail if there were such a fleet. I assumed that a French ship, alone now, would think twice before sailing right into a trap.”

“A brilliant trick,” the Colonel said.

“I must thank you sir,” Granger said, “but it was not all that brilliant. In any event, thank you for allowing our detour. We have saved one of his Most Catholic Majesty's frigates, and we will still make Tenerife tomorrow.” Granger thought, selfishly, that it would give him one more night in a cot with Calvert, and that almost made him smile.

“You may begin the salute, Mr. Fleming,” Granger ordered.

“Aye aye sir!” he responded, followed by the sharp explosion as the gun went off, saluting the Spanish flag that flew lazily over the fortress guarding Tenerife. Granger saw the smoke as the fort responded to their salute, gun by gun. There was a boat there to meet them, and a spruce looking officer mounted the side, along with a doctor. Colonel Avila intercepted them before they even got to Granger, their staccato conversation in Spanish incomprehensible to him. Instead he stared at the pretty little port, and the pretty island.

There were ships anchored in the harbor that caught his attention as well. Two Spanish 74's, a frigate, and a sloop that was a bit smaller than Intrepid, all swinging calmly at anchor. Granger looked ahead at El Gato, at her mauled stern. He'd gone on board with Avila to dine last night and heard of her encounter with the French 74, how she'd clumsily allowed the Frog to cross her stern and rake her. It was only the horrible gunnery of the French that had prevented her from being sunk. As it was, her stern cabin was scarred and the windows were gone, allowing the breeze to flow through into the cabin, making the dinner quite pleasant.

“Captain, with your permission there will be boats arriving immediately to remove the cargo and the wounded. I must thank you again for your service to His Most Catholic Majesty,” Avila said with a bow.

“I will be happy to repatriate His Most Catholic Majesty's men and property at the earliest convenience,” Granger said with a bow. “I would like to go ashore and see to the re-victualing of my vessel.”

“If you will permit me, Captain, I will be happy to arrange that for you,” Avila said.

“I must thank you Colonel,” Granger said politely.

“I would like you to meet our Viceroy,” he said. “I will send an invitation to you as soon as is practicable.”

“I am at His Excellency's disposal, but I fear I can only allow myself three days in port, at most,” Granger said.

“Well we will ensure that is sufficient. And now I must take my leave of you,” he said. Granger saw him over the side and felt only temporary relief. Within an hour boats swarmed around the Intrepid. The first boats were there to claim the gold and silver, of course. Soldiers and a goodly supply of officers to supervise them arrived, and Granger made a log of each chest removed and had them sign for it. He didn't want any accusations that he had stolen some of their treasure.

After that, and much less urgently, boats arrived to remove the wounded. It was really horrific, watching the Spanish sailors jolted about as they were hoisted off Intrepid, many with limbs amputated, a few who already smelled of gangrene and would only live long enough to suffer more. By the time that was completed, it was late afternoon, and then they were left alone. Granger was irritated. He felt as if he'd been used, then discarded. They'd taken what they wanted, then left him here floating about. He'd expected better from the Spanish, although what he based that on, he could not imagine. They slaughtered the remaining livestock and had a feast of it anyway.

“Sir, our stores are perilously low,” Andrews said, approaching him as he stood on deck, watching the sun set.

“We will replenish them tomorrow, one way or another,” Granger said.

“Aye aye sir,” Andrews said skeptically.

“Don't worry sir. They'll give us enough food to get to St. Helena,” Calvert said.

“I wish I shared your confidence,” Granger said, standing next to Calvert, feeling his warmth, his presence, as they watched the sun slowly set.

“It's a matter of honor sir. To refuse us after a brave act would be an act of inhospitality,” he said. “It would be rude, and an insult to our king, and theirs.”

“Indeed?” Granger asked.

“Yes sir,” Calvert said. “That Colonel was on deck and jabbering about it to Humphreys.”

“Well we will see if the Viceroy has manners that are as good as Colonel Avila's tomorrow,” Granger said.

“I'm surprised those Dons are still in port,” Calvert said, gesturing to the Spanish warships. “I'd have expected them to go out and try to bring the Aquilla in.”

“We have to remember that the Dons don't always do things the way we do,” Granger observed sadly, thinking of poor Lieutenant Reyes out there on his wounded ship. “Join me for supper.”

“Aye aye sir,” Calvert said. They headed below and dined in his cabin. He was glad to have recovered his space from the Spanish Colonel.

“It's nice to have my cabin back, but I will miss sleeping with you,” Granger said.

“Well I am not on watch tonight, so I was thinking maybe you could let me share your bunk tonight,” Calvert said, grinning. They ate supper then, the candles on the table casting a romantic shadow over their faces, but even the dull light could not hide the twinkling of their eyes, anticipating what was to come next.

Granger waited until Winkler had cleared the table and led Calvert to his cabin. They undressed themselves quickly, not urgently, and then climbed into bed together. Then their lips met, and Granger pulled Calvert on top of him, his favorite position. Calvert began thrusting against him, rubbing his hard cock against Granger's equally rigid member. Granger thought about moving, about trying to take Calvert's cock in his ass, but the sensation was so good, the feelings so intense, he decided to just enjoy things as they were. He moved against Calvert, matching his rhythm, until they both had cum.

“You are so much fun,” Calvert said in that sexy voice of his.

“So are you,” Granger responded, and pulled his naked lover to him, letting their cum squish between them like cement, gluing them together.

Granger woke up in the middle of the night to find himself lying across Calvert’s back as he slept on his stomach. His cock was hard, rock hard, and his hand traced the outline of Calvert's muscular back, moving down to his gorgeous ass, stroking his cheeks, running his fingers up his crack in a gentle, loving way.

“Mmmm,” Calvert purred, waking up.

“Can I make love to you?” Granger asked.

“Mm hm,” Calvert purred again, giving his approval. Granger took his time, wanting to eradicate the memory of that time he'd taken Calvert so roughly, wanting to make sure Calvert felt all the love Granger felt toward him. He spent a lot of time just caressing Calvert's body, gently probing his ass, and then when he entered him, he went so slow it was maddening, telling him the whole time how much he loved him. Calvert responded this time, really responded, moving with him, urging him on, so much so that he seemed disappointed, devastated when Granger withdrew and rolled off of him.

“I want you back, back inside me,” moaned Calvert, grabbing him.

“Roll over,” Granger ordered. “I want to make you cum, to watch you cum. I want to watch you blow your load all over your body,” Granger said as Calvert rolled over and Granger re-entered him. “And then, after you cum, I'm going to lick every drop off your sexy body. God, I love you so much.”

Calvert whimpered then, moaned and whimpered, and then he came, blasting rope after rope of cum on his body. Granger's own orgasm started almost as soon as Calvert's was finished, and then afterward he lapped up Calvert's cum, just as he promised.

“You know what I wish?” Calvert said.

“What?” Granger asked as he snuggled up to Calvert's chest.

“I wish they would order us to sail around the world two or three times,” Calvert said. “I could spend eternity here on this ship with you.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Granger teased, and dozed off thinking about the idea, and found that it appealed to him greatly.

“Mr. Humphreys’ respects sir, boats heading toward us,” Lennox said as he stood in front of Granger. Granger looked at his watch: 9:00am. Evidently the Spanish didn't believe in starting their days all that early.

“My compliments to Mr. Humphreys, and I'll be up directly,” Granger said. Anticipating visitors, he called Winkler and put on his dress uniform, not his best one, but close. He headed up on deck just as the boats were pulling close. The first one bore Colonel Avila, looking as spruce as ever.

“Welcome aboard Colonel. It is a pleasure to see you again,” Granger said politely, remembering his manners.

“The pleasure is mine Captain,” Avila said with a broad bow. “I have brought a message from His Excellency the Viceroy inviting you to dine with him at 2:00pm today.”

“I am honored to accept such an invitation,” Granger said, bowing deeply.

“In the mean time, I have taken the liberty of bringing out stores for you and your gallant vessel,” Avila said. “There are bullocks and pigs being slaughtered on the shore as we speak. If you wish to supervise the salting and stowage of such stores, I will be happy to conduct your men back to the shore. There are also other stores, fruit and flour, along with a ready supply of bread and other delicacies in the boats I brought with me.”

Granger didn't miss a beat. “I must thank you Colonel, for your kindness and your generosity. Due to your contributions, we will be able to continue our voyage uninterrupted.”

“Excellent. Excellent. I am glad to hear it. Then I will take my leave of you, and return at 1:00pm to take you and your staff to meet His Excellency.”

“I will be most anxious to see you again,” Granger said politely and escorted him to the side. He sent the purser and carpenter ashore with casks, and then Calvert and Humphreys began supervising the loading and stowage of the stores the Spanish shipped out. All morning it went on like that, Intrepid gorging herself on Spanish generosity. At noon, Granger had the wash deck pump rigged and took a shower, then primped himself in his very best uniform to meet the representative of His Most Catholic Majesty.

Granger saw Avila approaching in his boat and pulled Calvert aside. “Mr. Calvert, you will be in command in my absence,” Granger said formally. “Try to complete taking on stores. If possible, I'd like to leave on the morning tide.”

“Aye aye sir,” he said.

Granger returned to the side to find the two midshipmen and Humphreys waiting for him. He ran an appraising eye over them, wanting to make sure that no flaws would find their way into the viceregal palace, that these men would not embarrass Britain. Colonel Avila mounted the side easily and was piped aboard with honors due his rank.

“We are ready Colonel,” Granger said crisply.

“Excellent,” he said. Lennox, Fitzwilliam, Humphreys, Granger, and Avila descended into the ornate barge. Granger studied the staid faces of its crew, their ornate yellow and black uniforms with liberal patches of gold lace blending nicely with their olive skin. They rowed the barge through the shipping, past the Spanish warships and the various merchant ships anchored in this, one of Spain's busiest harbors, and up to a stone jetty. There was a company of soldiers drawn up, resplendent in their spotless uniforms. A carriage appeared, as ornate as the barge, to carry them the short distance to the massive palace that housed the viceroy.

They entered the palace and an equerry appeared, leading Humphreys and the midshipmen off to a reception area for junior officers. Granger was led through a massive room then down a long hallway, his shoes clicking on the cool tiles, his eyes scanning the baroque furnishings and embellishments, until he was led into a room with a chair on a dais, not unlike the room King George used for his audiences.

Then he was before the Viceroy, the man who represented His Most Catholic Majesty, and who was treated with almost as much reverence. Granger bowed, not as low as he would to his sovereign, but low, trying to get it just right. Apparently it sufficed.

“Welcome to Tenerife, Captain,” the Viceroy said smoothly, in French, the language of the cultured.

“I must thank Your Excellency for your most hospitable welcome, and for your generosity,” Granger said.

“You have performed a valuable service to His Most Catholic Majesty, Captain. Colonel Avila tells me that but for your intervention, the Aquilla's crew and cargo would have been captured by the French,” he said.

“I have only done my duty, Your Excellency, as a subject of His Britannic Majesty, and an ally of His Most Catholic Majesty,” Granger said simply.

“Your ally is most grateful Captain,” The Viceroy said, a smile creeping across his face. Granger was clearly being dismissed, so he bowed and sidled out of the room, taking care not to turn his back on this powerful man. There was an equerry there to guide Granger to the reception.

It was a huge room, opulent in every way, with a huge table set in the middle of the room. He felt someone press a glass of wine in his hand, and then he was free, cut loose to wander the room as he would were this Carlton House. But he knew very few people here. He saw his officers off to the side, being decidedly anti-social, and went up to them.

Humphreys’ nose was a bit red from drinking wine, but he did not seem overtly tipsy. “Good afternoon gentlemen,” he said. “We are in a foreign palace, so we must keep our wits about us.”

“Aye aye sir,” they said, and Humphreys slowed his drinking markedly. Just as Granger was about to make an effort at mingling, dinner was announced and an army of footmen seated them in pre-assigned seats. He found himself across the table from Rear Admiral Mendoza, commanding the ships in port, and next to Captain Valenzuela, whose ship they'd rescued.

“Your ruse was most ingenious Captain,” Valenzuela said.

“Thank you sir. I am glad that you were able to extricate yourself from the clutches of such a powerful foe. It was an act of bravery to engage a ship of the line with a frigate,” Granger said, pouring on the praise. Valenzuela beamed with pride.

“A ship of the line perhaps, but a French one,” he said casually.

“Sir, have ships been sent to find Lieutenant Reyes and the Aquilla?” Granger asked Mendoza.

“Why would they do that?” the admiral asked. “Either Reyes will save the ship and make port, or he will abandon her and make port in his boats. It was his decision to stay with his ship, it is his burden to live or die with her.” Granger just stared at him, stunned. He stole a glance at Valenzuela and could see him hiding his disapproval. Was the admiral unwilling to venture out when there was a French ship of the line there? The odds would be two against one, surely enough for the Spanish to win, or at least to give him a good chance. Or was he just lazy? Indolent? Either way, it was a blackguard affair, leaving poor Reyes out there to fend for himself.

Granger decided that it would be impolitic to push the issue. It was for the Spaniards to watch out for their own. He focused on gorging himself on the tasty food laid before him, on not drinking too much, and on keeping an eye on his men to see that they didn't either. It was after 6:00pm before they were able to extricate themselves from the reception and persuade Avila to take them back to Intrepid. There he bid Avila goodbye, and went aboard to check on the condition of his ship.

“Welcome back sir,” Calvert said.

“It is good to be back,” Granger replied. “Have we stowed all of our stores?”

“All except the water sir,” Calvert said. “No amount of gesticulating on my part would move them to do any more work today. I'm sorry sir,” he said.

“It is no matter Mr. Calvert. You have done well,” Granger said. “How much water do we have?”

“We've only gone through a fourth of our casks. We've got three months supply, longer on reduced rations sir,” Calvert said.

“Very well. We'll leave on the morning tide and top off our water when we reach St. Helena. I'll be below if I am needed.”

“Aye aye sir,” Calvert said.

Granger wandered into his cabin and sprawled on the ledge against the stern windows. They were open, and the pleasant breeze wafted through his cabin. Ranger came up and put his big head in Granger's lap, begging for a pet, for attention. Granger smiled at him. This had to be the most spoiled dog on the planet. The entire crew adopted him, so he received a ton of attention, and a bunch of food scraps. Granger was worried that it would dim his desire to hunt rats, but that hadn't changed one bit. He was still killing the creatures, much to the dismay of the midshipmen and ship's boys, who used them to augment their diet.

There was a knock at his door. Fitzwilliam came in and looked around wide-eyed like he and Lennox always did when they were in this bastion of power. “Sir, Mr. Calvert's compliments, and there's a boat heading toward us.”

It was almost dusk, so it must be carrying a lantern. He sighed and came up to see the boat slowly making its way toward them. “Shall I summon a marine guard?” Calvert asked.

“Yes Mr. Calvert,” Granger said. He wasn't concerned about foul play, it was more for ceremony. By the time the boat arrived, the marines were there to welcome their newest visitor, along with sideboys and the bosun with his whistle. It was, once again, Avila.

“I am sorry to intrude on you yet again Captain,” he said with all the floweriness expected of continental Europeans.

“Your presence is never an intrusion Colonel,” Granger said. “Will you allow me to offer you some refreshment?”

“I fear there is no time for that. Knowing that you are leaving in the morning, I hasten to bring you a gift from His Excellency,” he said, motioning the soldiers forward with a small but heavy chest. “It is a small gift of gold coins to thank you for your brave efforts.”

Granger stared at the heavy chest, stunned for a minute, and then got his wits about him and had it hauled down to his cabin. “I must thank you again Colonel, and ask you to convey our gratitude to His Excellency.”

“I hope we meet again Captain,” Avila said, shaking his hand.

“As do I Colonel,” Granger said, smiling. He saw the Colonel over the side and then went down to inspect this ‘small gift’ of gold coins. There were three thousand large gold coins, coins slightly larger than those he'd captured from the French in the Mediterranean. There was about 15,000 to 20,000 pounds here in cash. Enclosed was a flowery note from the Viceroy thanking him again.

Granger had Winkler and Jeffers move the chest into his sleeping cabin, probably the safest place in the ship, without telling them what was in there. In fact, he told no one, not even Calvert. There was no point in letting people know how much gold was floating around, it would only encourage theft. That night Calvert came in and made love to him, and Granger couldn't help smiling, thinking that beneath his cot was 20,000 pounds in gold.