The Wardroom - 11. Chapter 11

September, 1793

Granger headed to his cabin, weary after a very stressful day. After the assembly that morning, they'd been inundated with work trying to organize and maintain the defenses of Toulon in the face of an advancing French army. It seemed surreal to Granger that just a few miles away soldiers from five different countries were diligently working to prepare for the assault that must come, and the siege that would occur when that failed.

He'd gone up on the quarterdeck with Shafte to get some air while Hood met with a few of his captains. They'd gotten some sideways glances from the men, not angry, not malicious, just curious. Still, the entire effect of the scandal had put the whole ship on a heightened level of anticipation. It was a very tense environment, at least for Granger and Shafte.

Granger ran into Cavendish as he was leaving the wardroom. “You spoke well today,” Granger told him.

“As did you,” Cavendish said with a smile. “I probably didn't make too many friends.”

“You impressed his lordship,” Granger said. Cavendish's eyes lit up at that and he smiled.

“Well now, that is something.” Granger strode into his cabin and found Shafte already in his cot. He ignored him and took off his clothes, handing them to Winkler.

“You alright?” Granger asked Winkler.

“Yes sir. No one messed with me sir.” Winkler was grinning.

“They wanted me to reveal my source,” Granger told him, whispering so no one could hear, and saw Winkler's eyes bulge. “I refused to tell anyone but Lord Hood.”

“Lord Hood knows sir?” Winkler asked, whispering softly too.

“Yes he does. And he has ordered me to tell no one. But if someone bothers you, let me know, and we'll have his lordship explain things to him personally.”

“Yes sir. Thank you sir.” Winkler said.

“No, Winkler, thank you.” Winkler smiled and left Granger standing naked in the middle of the cabin. He wanted to join Shafte in his cot, to sink his dick into that sumptuous ass of his again, but decided against it and crawled onto his own cot. Shafte had been through enough without being assaulted by Granger too.

He heard a noise. Shafte must be getting up to use the chamber pot, Granger thought. Then there was a noise by the door. Granger smiled. He was affixing their custom door lock. Then he felt Shafte climb into the cot with him.

“I hope this is OK sir. I have been waiting for this all day,” Shafte said, rubbing his naked body against Granger's.

“So have I, Mr. Shafte, so have I.” Granger pulled them together with his strong arms and kissed Shafte passionately, running his hands all over Shafte’s lithe young body. He stroked Shafte's cock a few times and was surprised when he felt it explode in his hand. Granger pulled his hand up, the cum dripping off of it, and licked it all off while Shafte watched him, wide-eyed. Then Shafte vanished below the covers and Granger felt a mouth envelop his cock. Shafte worked his dick, trying to get the hang of it. Apparently he hadn't had much practice. Granger guessed that since his ass was so cute, men didn't give him a chance to give head. Granger felt his balls rise and then orgasmed into Shafte's mouth, the feeling of Shafte's throat contracting around Granger's head as he swallowed seemed to keep his orgasm flowing and flowing.

Shafte made to get up and leave but Granger pulled him up to him, to his chest, and held him tight instead. “Stay here with me, Mr. Shafte. I love the way you feel.”

Shafte moaned contentedly. “I love the way you taste, sir,” he said, smiling up at Granger.

“When we're in here, call me George,” Granger said to him, and gave him a loving kiss.

“Only if you call me Julian.”

“What a beautiful name,” Granger said. “Julian.”

“I thought you'd want to fuck me again,” Julian said.

“You liked it?”

He grinned. “Very much.”

“Me too. In a few minutes, I'm going to fuck you and make you cum like a bursting dam,” Granger whispered into his ear. Julian giggled.

“I can't believe how my life has changed. Yesterday I was the most miserable person in the fleet, and now I'm the happiest. I owe it all to you.”

Granger smiled down at him and kissed him. They lay there in the cot, kissing, and then just looking at each other, until Granger felt his loins recharge, and felt the lust surge within him. He gently turned Julian around so he was facing away from him and began to probe Julian's hole with his fingers. Shafte had already lubed himself up, cheeky bugger, and he responded enthusiastically to Granger's probing. Granger felt sorry for him. He was really stretched out. Devlin had really fucked him.

Granger moved up and pushed his dick against Julian's hole, then pushed in. He felt Julian's body respond, his whole being light up now that Granger was inside of him. Granger pushed him so Shafte was on his stomach with only one leg propping him up slightly on his side, and then Granger began to move in and out of him. The previous orgasm had sated Granger’s passion, and given him endurance for this time. “Do you like this Julian?” Granger cooed softly into his ear.

“Yes,” Julian said, pushing back into him enthusiastically, burying his head in Granger's pillow to hide his cute little moans and whimpers.

“You feel so good, so good,” Granger whispered. Julian seemed to like that, so he kept talking. “I've wanted to make love to your cute little ass ever since I came on board. I think about you, about plunging into you, how good this is, how good you make me feel.” Julian let out a little scream then, stifled enough so only Granger could hear. Julian pushed back into Granger more urgently now, done with the slow, intimate, loving pace. Now he wanted to be fucked, and Granger wanted to fuck him. Granger picked up his pace and wrapped his hand around Julian's cock, squeezing it tight but holding it still, letting the motion of their bodies bring Julian off. He felt Julian's movements get more erratic, and felt Julian losing himself, losing control. Then he felt Julian's cock swell, and felt his semen dribbling down Granger's hand as he came and came and came.

When Julian was done, Granger made to move out, but Julian reached back and grabbed Granger's ass, pulling him to him. “No, keep going. I love how you feel even after I've cum.” Focused solely on himself and his own pleasure, Granger fucked Julian's ass, ignoring the world around him, the world outside him, and concentrating instead on the incredible feeling he got from that tight little cavern, until he came too.

Shafte pushed back into him, spooning himself up to Granger who wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight, his cock still buried in Julian's tight little hole as he drifted off to sleep.

Granger woke up a few hours later to find his dick still buried in Julian's ass, only now it was hard again, and Julian was moving against him, moaning in pleasure. Granger pulled him tight, wrapping his arms around Julian, taking complete control, and began to fuck him again. This time Granger came first, but he stroked Julian off shortly thereafter.

“We better head to our own beds,” Granger said cautiously.

“It's hard to be in the same cabin with you, and not be with you,” Julian said, kissing him. But he got up and undid their lock, then retreated to his own cot. Granger felt cold and lonely without Shafte there. He was really growing attached to his young midshipman. He hadn't felt this way since he'd fallen in love with Travers.

Then Granger began to wonder if Travers was feeling these same things with Chilton, if he was making love to him and not just fucking him. If Travers would let Chilton charm him into loving him. And then he wondered if Shafte would be able to do the same thing to him. He put these thoughts out of his mind and decided to enjoy the moment. He'd see Travers again, and their love would surmount any flirtations with young midshipmen. Still, Granger thought with a smile, Shafte was a lot of fun.

The single gun fired and the flag ascended the mast, announcing to the world that yet another Court Martial was taking place. What must the Spaniards think of this? Granger pondered that, trying to distract his mind, as he paced up and down on the quarterdeck. He felt someone fall into step with him: Cavendish.

“Now didn't we do this same thing not too terribly long ago?” he joked. Granger laughed quietly, not wanting to seem disrespectful on such a somber day.

“I believe we did. Not exactly the best set of circumstances under which to meet,” Granger said, smiling. “Have you heard from Roberts lately?”

“I had a chance to dine aboard Desperate while you were gallivanting around with Captain Nelson,” Cavendish teased. “They're doing quite well. Danvers praised you to the heavens for what you'd done in such a short period of time, although I think he was just happy that the cost of uniforms for the crew came from your purse and not his.”

Granger did laugh at that. “It was money well spent. They had put up with a lot of shit.”

“They did,” Cavendish agreed. “They all did. But Roberts seems happier than I've ever know him to be, and that man you promoted, Yule?” Granger nodded. “He's doing well too. There's an examination set up next week, and I think he plans to take his test then.”

“Well if he passes, I'll see the paperwork for it,” Granger joked.

“You must see everything,” Cavendish mused.

“Yes, but the only thing interesting is the love letters you write,” Granger said. Cavendish stared at him, nervous as hell, till he realized Granger was joking. “So you do write love letters?” Granger chided.

“All the time. I have many ladies who appreciate me,” Cavendish said in mock conceit.

“I shouldn't wonder,” Granger shot back. “They probably appreciate the fact that you're away at sea.” They laughed again until the First Lieutenant glared at them.

“Mr. Granger,” said Humphreys, interrupting them. He was a good midshipman. Granger was glad he wasn't embroiled in this affair. “The court is ready for you.”

Granger entered the cabin. The three midshipmen and Bedard were the only defendants in there. No room, evidently, for the others. Chalmers and Bedard glared at him, while the other two just looked at him with glassy eyes. They could only be found guilty, and there could only be one verdict.

“Mr. Granger,” the president of the court, Captain Crumpler, said in his nasal tone. “Please tell the court about your actions on the night in question.”

Granger started from the beginning, noting his concern about Shafte, his haggard appearance and his lagging performance. He replayed their conversation, and explained that he'd heard about potential mischief and went below to see what it was. He described how they'd carried Shafte down and tied him up, and how Captains Knight and Curtis had shown up.

“How did you hear of this meeting?” asked one of the captains.

“I received a tip, sir,” Granger said, expecting this.

“From whom?” another captain asked.

“I am not at liberty to say sir,” Granger said politely.

“Please explain yourself Mr. Granger. The court has asked you a question. You would be wise to answer,” said Crumpler.

“I mean no disrespect sir. I am under direct orders from Lord Hood not to divulge who told me,” Granger said earnestly.

The court did not like that at all, but Hood was their commanding officer, and even the most unsympathetic one of them could see Granger's dilemma. Defy the court, or defy Hood? “Well Mr. Granger, you appear to be in a quandary, but this court will humor you for the time being.”

“Thank you sir,” Granger said genuinely.

“Mr. Granger, did you actually see Mr. Chalmers penetrate Mr. Shafte?” asked Captain Chester. He was a friend of the Wilcoxes. He commanded the Berwick, a ship with a reputation for having a crew composed almost solely of criminals, and one where buggery was rampant, at least according to rumors.

“In what way sir?” asked Granger innocently. He hadn't gotten to that part of his story yet.

“Did you actually see Mr. Chalmers insert his penis into Mr. Shafte's anus,” Chester asked in a strange manner, as if he enjoyed visualizing it. He got a few odd looks from his colleagues at the table.

“Yes sir.”

“Well now, that is most strange, since Captain Curtis said that he could not.”

“I was on the larboard side sir. I had a different view, a different angle,” Granger said.

“I thought you said Captain Curtis was next to you?” Chester said, trying to trip him up. Granger almost rolled his eyes, as if he were that big of an amateur.

“No sir. Actually, I hadn't gotten to that part yet. But it was Captain Knight who was next to me.” Chester frowned.

“Can you describe Mr. Chalmers' penis?” he asked. Granger almost laughed but caught himself.

“Yes sir,” Granger said. He saw Chalmers leer at him.

“Please do,” Chester said.

“Belay that Mr. Granger. This court does not need anatomical descriptions,” said Crumpler, frustrated. After that, they let Granger continue his recitation unchallenged. He was dismissed.

“So what did they ask you?” Cavendish quizzed him when he returned to the quarterdeck.

“Captain Chester wanted to know the details of Mr. Chalmers' penis.” Cavendish burst out laughing at that.

“Gentlemen, if you cannot maintain the proper level of decorum on the quarterdeck, please remove yourselves,” said the First Lieutenant. This whole affair had clearly stressed him out. A good First Lieutenant would have been aware of what was going on in the midshipmen’s berth, and would have kept a weather eye on them. He was being exposed as someone who was not a good First Lieutenant, and that pissed him off.

“Yes sir,” said Granger.

“Sorry sir,” said Cavendish. They went below to have a drink or two and await the verdict in the Wardroom. Granger was past sobriety when he saw Shafte dash into their cabin.

“Mr. Shafte!” called Cavendish.

Shafte looked out of the cabin, his whole countenance showing how distraught he was. “Yes sir?”

From the way Shafte looked, Granger assumed that they'd gotten off and would still be around to torture him. He felt his anger rising, and began to think of a way to see that justice was done.

“What was the verdict?” asked Cavendish.

“Guilty, sir.” A tear fell down his cheek, something unexpected and unacceptable in a King's officer. Except perhaps in these unfortunate circumstances.

“And the penalty?” Granger asked softly.

Shafte swallowed hard, and another tear fell down his face. “Cabot, Ferris, Chalmers, and Bedard are to be hanged at dawn tomorrow.”

“There is no appeal?” Cavendish asked. Normally the other midshipmen or warrant officers would appeal to the court, or Lord Hood, for mercy.

Shafte shook his head. “No one came forward sir.” They just stared at each other blankly. That required a great deal of unpopularity, to be condemned to death and to have no one give a shit.

“What of the others?” Cavendish asked.

“They are to be stripped of their rank and receive a dozen lashes,” Shafte began.

“That doesn't sound too bad,” Cavendish said, interrupting.

“A dozen lashes from every ship in the fleet sir,” Shafte finished. They stared at him again, horrified. Flogging around the fleet. Each condemned man would be tied to a grating and put in a ship's boat. He would be rowed to each ship in the fleet. The Bosun from that ship would then go down into the boat and deliver the dozen lashes to the condemned man's back. Then the boat would move on to the next ship, and the next ship, and so on. Granger thought about it, and decided he'd rather be hanged.

“Dashed bad luck,” said Cavendish. “We'll have a group of unhappy men back here if they survive.”

“No sir, we won't,” Shafte said, clearly starting to come unglued. “They're to be transferred to the Berwick after punishment.”

“You are dismissed Mr. Shafte,” Granger said to him, letting him go drown his sorrows. “Tough sentence,” Granger observed to Cavendish.

“Maybe,” Cavendish responded, “but what they did was almost on a level with mutiny. Discipline must be maintained. I'm going on deck. I want to see how the men take this.”

Granger nodded and went in to find Shafte bawling on his cot. Granger rubbed his shoulder in a caring manner. “I feel as if I have their blood on my hands,” Shafte sobbed. “They'll haunt me for the rest of my life.”

“That's not true Mr. Shafte,” came a voice from the doorway. Granger was so thankful he hadn't tried to pull Shafte into an embrace.

Shafte sat up and stared at Captain Curtis, embarrassed that he was in this state. “I'm sorry sir. I shouldn't be so emotional.”

Curtis shut the door and sat on the cot with them. “It is OK to cry Mr. Shafte. It's a very sad day. But the fault was not yours. I bear more of the blame than you do. As does Captain Knight, and as do the officers on board this ship. So I would say that you are in good company if you are to be haunted.”

Shafte reached out and hugged Curtis, a maneuver none of them expected, a move that took Curtis by surprise. He sat there shocked, and then put his arms around Shafte and patted his back lovingly. Granger smiled at him. To Curtis, Shafte must be like one of his children. This must be what fatherhood is like, Granger thought. He smiled at himself. His own feelings toward Shafte, on the other hand, weren't paternal at all. Then Curtis pulled away and stood up, looking more flustered than Granger had ever seen him.

“Lord Hood will not take it amiss if you miss supper,” Curtis said to them.

“Thank you sir,” Granger said for them. Curtis was gone then, and Granger had the sense to rig their door lock after he was gone. He turned to find Shafte there, right in his face.

“Please make love to me George. I feel so horrible, I just need to feel like someone loves me,” he said, still sobbing.

Granger kissed him, kissed away the tears. He pulled Shafte's trousers down to his knees and knelt in front of his cute, adorable ass. He kissed it, the cheeks, and the crack. Shafte bent over, exposing his hole, and Granger dove in, licking him, nuzzling his taint, kissing the bottom of his balls, and then moving back up to his hole to probe Shafte some more with his tongue. Granger worked him and worked him, worshiping Shafte's body, trying to make him feel good about himself.

Then Granger grabbed the lanolin and lubed his cock. Shafte lay down on his cot, on his side, so Granger moved up behind him and entered him gently. “Is this what you want Julian?” he whispered into Shafte’s ear breathlessly. “You want to make me feel so good, to hear me cum, to know how much you mean to me?”

“Yes,” he said, so softly Granger could barely hear, and then he brought the tortured young man to a nice orgasm, and gave himself one too.

The single gun sounded again, the signal for a boat from each ship in the fleet to push off and head for the flagship. The drummer began pound on his instrument, while the call went down: “All hands to witness punishment!” The entire complement of the ship poured up on deck, there to witness the most severe punishment that could be meted out.

Granger stood next to Captain Curtis, who stood next to Lord Hood. Shafte was on the other side of Granger. Lined up on the quarterdeck were the ship's marines, there to keep order and to ensure that the punishment was carried out. Adjacent to them was Captain Knight, backed up by his officers. Granger stole a glance at Cavendish, who had a stolid countenance. The marines were a depleted company, with half of them ashore fighting the French, but it was adequate. The ship's company was not restless about this punishment at all.

The crew was assembled in the waist of the ship and the forecastle. There the four prisoners stood, awaiting their fate. Chalmers and Bedard looked cocky and arrogant, while Ferris and Cabot were openly sobbing. If they had been younger, they may have escaped execution, but all four were over seventeen years of age, so there could be no mercy in their case.

Captain Knight went through the prescribed procedure, reading the verdict of the court that delineated the crimes of the condemned and their attending punishment. Granger scanned the crew, looking for any sign of unruliness or discontent, but he could find none. These four men were universally unpopular, so there were no tears for their deaths. Had it been Humphreys, or one of the other warrant officers who were liked and respected, the marines may have been needed. But not for these men.

Granger stole a glance at Lord Hood, who had seen plenty of hangings in his life. Granger detected a slight twitch in his cheek, the only sign from the old Admiral that he found these proceedings disturbing.

The Boatswain lowered the nooses over their necks and pulled them tight. Then the drum rolled, and four groups of men heaved on the ropes, pulling the men up to the yardarm by their necks. Granger watched in horror as they twitched and gagged, until ultimately they suffocated, and hung there lifeless. The end was anticlimactic. The boats shoved off, heading back to their own ships. The condemned would be allowed to dangle there, dead, for the remainder of the day, a warning to others who may be considering a crime like theirs.

Granger searched his own feelings, acknowledging that it was his action that had started the whole chain of events. His refusal to recant his statement had condemned these men to death. It was as if he personally killed them. He found that, as horrified as he was by the hanging, he was convinced it was the right thing to do.

But the punishments were not over. The others, including Baker, and Lord Hood's clerk, were shepherded up from their cells in the hold. Captain Knight once again raised his voice and read the findings of the court martial and the verdict. When he recited the punishment, his own servant began to sob and beg for mercy. The men on the deck stared at him with a combination of pity for his fate, and disdain for his weakness. They were lowered into the boats, two to a boat, by the bosun's chair.

Once in the boat, they were tied to a grating, and the bosun descended into the boat. The drums began to roll as the bosun delivered the first 12 lashes, to Baker, in this case. The unlucky bastard who got to go first. Then one of the bosun's mates would deliver the 12 lashes to the next man, thus ensuring that each flogger had a fresh arm. Once completed, the boat shoved off and headed to the next ship in the line, where the procedure was repeated.

The next boat pulled up, and the next pair was lowered down and lashed to the gratings. In a weird, twisted coincidence, lashing the men to the gratings seemed to take as long as it took to row to the next ship, so the drums began to roar at almost the same time.

The third boat took its place, and the timing remained consistent, so there were now drums rolling from three ships as they flogged the offenders. Finally, Victory had completed her punishment, and the hands were dismissed. The ominous drum rolls reverberated around the harbor as ship after ship, all 12 battleships, prepared to award punishment.

“Signal from Fortitude sir,” Humphreys said to Hood. “Punishment suspended.” Fortitude was the sixth ship in the line. So Baker had made it halfway through before a surgeon ruled him unfit to finish punishment.

“Will that be an end of it sir?” Shafte asked him quietly.

“No Mr. Shafte,” Granger said, gritting his teeth. “They will be given time to heal, and then the punishment will resume.”

“So this could take days sir?” he asked.

“Or months, depending on their health. We will hear those drum rolls for some time to come. In the meantime, let us hope they enjoy their new home on the Berwick.”

“I think I'd rather be hanging from that yardarm,” Cavendish said, indelicately gesturing up at the yardarm where the three midshipmen and a bosun's mate dangled lifeless. “It's a rarity to hang a midshipman.”

“Well then,” Granger said, “there's good news for you Mr. Shafte.” The joke fell flat, as Granger knew it would.

They filed down to Lord Hood's cabin to dine with his lordship. The meal and the conversation were muted at first.

“Your men didn't seem too upset at the punishment,” Hood observed to Knight.

“They did not, my lord. I fear those men had made themselves hated throughout the ship. Sadly, there was more a feeling of good-riddance,” Knight said casually. He turned to Shafte. “At least your nightmare is over.”

“Yes sir,” said Shafte. But Granger knew, after witnessing Shafte's sleeping last night that his nightmares had just begun.