The Wardroom - 16. Chapter 16

October 8, 1793

Granger and his crew had spent the previous evening gathering their gear, their personal possessions together from the Aurore. Granger stood on her quarterdeck watching the sun come slowly up in the east, and sighed out loud, then reproached himself. He had grown to think of Aurore as his own ship, despite his knowledge that she wasn't, so leaving her was really traumatic.

He looked across the deck at the men, at his crew, huddled together for warmth in the cool morning October breeze. That was even harder. They'd followed him willingly, done a great job, and even though he'd be able to keep them together here, once they got back to the fleet they'd be scattered to the winds. Of course he'd still be able to keep Winkler around, and he planned to keep Lefavre too. But the rest of them, well, they'd be absorbed into the greater amalgam of the Royal Navy.

A dockyard official boarded the ship and officially relieved him, and then he and the crew were loaded onto boats and hauled over to the Erebus, an old ship of the line that had been converted into a receiving ship. There was an elderly lieutenant in charge of the Erebus, a bitter old man as one would expect from someone who'd never been able to make that amazing progression from lieutenant to commander or captain.

“Officers can come and go as they please, everyone else stays put,” he said to Granger and his men.

“Do you have guards to make sure the men stay aboard?” Granger asked.

“We'll keep the men battened down,” the lieutenant said rudely. “And I'm your senior. You call me sir.”

“Yes sir,” Granger said. “I'm sorry sir.” He saw the man eye him carefully, pleased at this small victory. “I'd like to make a request sir.”

“What is it?”

“I'd like my men to be allowed to come and go as they please as well, sir,” Granger told him. Even his own men eyed him curiously.

“Are you daft? Every man jack here'll run and hide on this island, find hisself some Spanish señorita,” he said.

“I'm willing to guarantee that they won't run, sir” Granger said. “I'll give you ten guineas for every man who doesn't report for duty when we're due to return.”

“Where are you going to get 300 guineas to pay for these 30 men?” he asked sarcastically.

Granger stared at him, unsure how to answer that. “I give you my word sir. I'm good for the money.”

“Very well Mr. Granger, you and your men may come and go at will. I'm going to start spending my money.”

“Thank you sir,” Granger said. Then he turned to the men. “Men, you've been given the freedom to go into the harbor at will. You are to be back here at two bells every night. I'm going to trust you not to desert.” They grinned at him.

“Just so you know, I'm not entirely trusting your good motives,” Granger said, really getting their attention. “Our prize should yield a large amount of money, and I've already given you some gold pieces that we seized on that prize. So if you run, you forfeit a goodly amount of prize money. More than enough to cover my 10 guineas.” They cheered at that, at having their freedom, and at being comparatively wealthy. The lieutenant scowled at him and went below.

October 11, 1793

Granger strolled through the town of Mahon with Winkler. It had been fun to be here at first, a chance to relax and enjoy Minorca. Granger had spent the first few days visiting tailors, trying to find replacements for his battered uniforms. Fortunately, most of his coats were in good shape, but his trousers and shirts had suffered badly. The tailors, prodded with gold, had gotten his clothing done quickly, and Granger was pleasantly surprised to find the quality and cut to be almost as good as that of his London tailor. Winkler had come along with him to help lug his purchases back to Erebus.

“Do we need any additional stores?” Granger asked Winkler.

“No sir. Lefavre and I went shopping for cabin stores, coffee and the like, already. Except for some fresh meat when we leave, we're set sir.”

“Very well,” Granger said, and strolled back down towards the Erebus. He stopped in at a local inn and found that the innkeeper miraculously spoke French. Granger made Winkler sit and dine with him, something Winkler tried to avoid doing, probably because Granger hounded him mercilessly about his table manners when he did. He ordered the mutton, and a pint of ale for each of them.

“Is there a spring on Minorca?” Granger asked.

“Spring?” the innkeeper asked, confused.

“Yes, a spring, with water flowing up naturally,” Granger said, trying to explain it in French.

“Why yes, there is a magnificent freshwater lagoon and spring on the northern part of the island. It is only a few hours ride on horseback.”

Granger smiled, the thought of fresh water to drink, and to swim in, was like heaven. “Can you tell me how to get there?”

The innkeeper sat down and spat out the directions quickly, so quickly that Granger had a hard time scrawling it down fast enough. “Do you know where I can hire horses?” Granger asked. More directions to write down.

“So Winkler, do you fashion a ride over the mountains?” Granger asked pleasantly.

“I can't ride sir,” he said, with relief. He obviously had no desire to go running off with this strange lieutenant of his, off to God knows where.

“Well I can't go alone,” Granger whined.

“You could take Mr. Chilton, sir” he offered with a grin.

Granger glared at him. “He's useless. All he wants to do is sleep and eat.” Now that he was ashore, Chilton had turned into a total slug. It grated on Granger's nerves. He was like Nelson. Inactivity was something foreign to him.

“He fancies he's on vacation sir,” Winkler joked. Winkler only tolerated Chilton.

“Well I certainly don't want to disturb him,” Granger said, irritated. He'd stopped fucking Chilton, so irritated was he with him. And now he was horny. He chided himself for having such an active libido, and for being unable to control it. Three days without getting laid and he was almost a basket case. “I'll see if Jeffers wants to go.”

“He'd be good if you needed some muscle sir,” Winkler observed philosophically. “If you're to be wandering around a strange country.”

Granger grinned at him. “Then it's a good thing I'm not taking you. You're too scrawny.”

“That's probably true sir, although the horse would probably prefer me to Jeffers,” Winkler said in a tone that was pretty cheeky. He got a grin from Granger, who appreciated his humor. They finished their food, downed their ale, and headed back to the Erebus.

“See if you can track Jeffers down for me,” Granger told Winkler.

“Aye aye sir,” Winkler said. Granger peered out at the harbor and over to the dockyard where Aurore was undergoing repairs. He felt himself cringe. Is this what it's like to be a captain, Granger wondered? You care so much about your ship that it becomes a part of you, and losing it is agony. Is it like fatherhood?

“You wanted to see me sir?” Jeffers asked, interrupting Granger's ruminations.

“Yes. Can you ride?”

Jeffers nodded philosophically. “You mean a horse sir?”

“No, a flying carpet,” Granger snapped sarcastically.

“Yes sir, I can ride a horse,” Jeffers said, grinning at him.

“There are some freshwater springs north of here. I want to hire a couple of horses and go look for them. I want you to go with me, but only if you want to. It's not an order, nor a requirement.”

“I'd like that main well, sir, ” said Jeffers. “We leaving now?”

“We are.” Winkler handed Jeffers a bag full of crap, probably foodstuffs and clothing. Jeffers tossed it effortlessly over his shoulder and they headed to hire the horses. A bit of bargaining and they were off, mounted on two adequate steeds.

“Pretty country sir,” Jeffers observed as they wound their way through the pretty Minorcan countryside.

“It is,” Granger agreed. He was too focused on this spring, on this water that was supposed to be so pure, to appreciate the scenery. They reached the top of a hill and looked down to see a huge freshwater lake with a pretty waterfall pouring into it.

“I think we found it sir,” Jeffers said.

“I think so,” Granger agreed. They took the horses down to one of the pools of sparkling water and tied them to a tree, giving them enough room to drink the water and eat the grass.

Granger began to strip off his clothes, and Jeffers followed. Granger couldn't help but stare at his magnificent body and his rising cock. Granger walked up to him and stroked him gently. “I enjoyed our time together.”

“So did I sir,” Jeffers said, gasping slightly as Granger got him fully hard. “I liked it a lot.” Granger reached into his bag and pulled out his lanolin.

“Do it again,” he said, almost an order. Jeffers pulled Granger to him, his warm body and smooth skin enveloping Granger, rendering him helpless to resist the onslaught from Jeffers' mouth as he kissed him. Not that he wanted to stop him.

Jeffers knelt on the ground, his knees and legs grinding into the small rocks, and pulled Granger to him, made him sit on his lap. Granger felt Jeffers' hard cock probing at him and reached around to guide it in, then wrapped his arms around Jeffers and let the big man pivot in and out of him. Granger leaned back then, trusting Jeffers to hold him upright, to not let him fall, and let himself go physically. God, he was horny. Jeffers' huge dick inside him, sliding in and out rhythmically, his mouth on Granger's, his tongue probing him with authority, demanding and getting full access, the taste of his breath, the sound of his moans, all these things combined to bring Granger to the edge quickly.

He tried to stop himself, to hold off, but Jeffers was scratching an itch he hadn't been able to get to himself, and he was unable to resist. He threw himself back frantically and watched his dick spew out his first shot, then reached down to stroke himself, to make sure he enjoyed it for as long as he could. He sagged then lifelessly against Jeffers, but Jeffers wasn't done, and he was well beyond the point of caring that Granger was. He began to pound into Granger, pound him hard, until his own cock exploded and filled Granger's ass. When he came, he pulled Granger in tight, almost squeezing Granger's breath out of his body. The intimacy was incredible. Jeffers pulled Granger away and kissed him again, this time gently, with love.

Granger got off of him, letting Jeffers' dick slide out of his ass, and ran towards the water, jumping in. But the water that Granger had thought was so welcoming was in fact freezing cold. He heard a splash next to him, and turned in the clear water to see Jeffers crashing in. Their heads broke the surface at the same time, yelling with surprise at the cold water. Granger swam over to Jeffers and wrapped himself around him, enjoying his body heat.

“Not so bad now is it?” Granger teased.

“No sir, it's real nice,” Jeffers said.

Granger felt himself melting into this gentle giant. Jeffers lowered them down so they could drink the crystal clear water. It was heavenly. Granger swallowed his fill, but a few seconds later he was thirsty again.

“This water tastes amazing sir,” Jeffers said.

“It does,” Granger agreed. “You know Jeffers, when we're naked and together like this, you don't have to call me sir.”

“Yes I do sir. You're an officer, and a good one at that, begging your pardon. I owe you my respect.”

Granger leaned in and kissed him, then pulled away and smiled at him. He felt Jeffers hard dick poking him again and giggled. “Does this thing ever go down?”

“No sir,” Jeffers said.

“Good,” Granger replied, and lowered himself back onto Jeffers. They floated around in the cold water, almost used to it now, just slowly making love and kissing.

“You keep calling me sir, it makes me feel in charge,” Granger teased. “Maybe I should be the one fucking you?”

“If you want to sir,” Jeffers said nervously, but made to turn around. Granger held him in place.

“No. I like this so much better. I like feeling you inside me.”

“That's good sir, real good, because I love being inside of you. You feel so good.” Then their lovemaking got more heated, but less urgent than the first time, and they worked together so well that this time they almost came together. Jeffers laughed afterwards at Granger's semen floating around in the spring.

They found that Winkler had packed a lunch for them, so they just lounged around naked, in this deserted paradise, munching on food and making love. It was a wonderful, glorious, day, but the sun began to set, so they reluctantly dressed and remounted their horses for the brief ride back.

“Do you have any plans for tomorrow Jeffers?” Granger asked.

“No sir,” he said respectfully.

“Would you like to come back here with me tomorrow?”

“Yes sir,” he said, grinning.

They returned the horses and headed back to the ship. Right before they boarded, Granger looked at Jeffers. “If you want to stop by and see me tonight, you would be welcome.”

“Yes sir. Thank you sir,” Jeffers said, grinning.

October 15, 1793

The last few days had been glorious, following the same basic pattern. He'd wake up in the morning, have breakfast, and then he and Jeffers would ride over to the spring and swim, drink, eat, and make love all day long. Then Granger would come back to the Erebus, have a late supper, then go to bed, where Jeffers would join him. Granger loved that, loved being next to him with his big warm body.

Today, Granger was just finishing up his breakfast when he heard a stir on the deck. He headed up and gazed across the harbor and smiled. There was a ship coming into port, and even though he grabbed his glass to stare at her, he could tell right away it was the Agamemnon.

“Pass the word for Mr. Chilton,” Granger said, hoping he'd be on board. A few minutes later a ragged looking Chilton appeared in front of him.

“Sir?” he asked.

“Mr. Chilton, your appearance is hardly befitting a King's officer,” Granger said, irritated. He was still irritated with Chilton for viewing this as some grand vacation, and while it certainly was easy duty, Chilton's lack of attention to the crew and their discipline was really inexcusable.

“Yes sir. I'm sorry sir,” Chilton said, abashed.

“You have ten minutes to get yourself together and assemble a properly turned out boats' crew.”

“Aye aye sir,” Chilton said, and dashed off.

Granger stood on deck with his scope, watching Nelson warp the Agamemnon in. He looked at his watch meaningfully, while a panicked Chilton hollered at the men to pull their boat alongside. “Boat's ready sir,” Chilton said finally.

“Thank you Mr. Chilton,” Granger said, and motioned for Chilton to precede Granger into the boat. “Set a course for the Agamemnon.” Granger looked over to Jeffers as he steered the boat under Chilton's direction and got a shy smile from him. Jeffers had proven to be a great lover. But best of all, when they were back on deck, there was no sign, no indication at all, that he and Jeffers were fucking each other.

Granger caught his sideways look and hid his smile. Jeffers was from the lower deck, and Granger was an officer. They lived in entirely different worlds. The concept of them being involved romantically was incomprehensible to either one of them. It was supposed to be just a physical release. Yet it was more than that. Granger had grown to appreciate Jeffers, his strengths, his kindness. He'd grown to care about him not just as a lover, but as a friend. So here they were, in an inconceivable relationship that was doomed to fail, yet both of them seemed completely satisfied.

“Boat ahoy!” came the hail.

“Lieutenant Granger,” Granger yelled. He wasn't sure what else to say. He had no ship to identify with, and he was far from his admiral. The boat hooked on and he mounted the side enthusiastically.

Nelson was there to greet him. “You appear to have fallen from the sky, as it were. Pray, what brings you here to Port Mahon?”

“I brought the Aurore here sir, for repairs. My orders are to await a unit of the Mediterranean Fleet and seek passage back to the fleet,” Granger said.

“Indeed? Well then I will be glad to accommodate you as soon as we stow some extra spars and replenish our stores.”

“Thank you sir. I have some other men with me,” Granger added. “Some thirty seamen and warrant officers, plus a midshipman.”

“Experienced hands are always welcome Mr. Granger,” Nelson said smiling. Every ship in the fleet sailed short-handed. Manning the fleet was a hair-pulling exercise. “They would be useful as soon as you can send them over.”

“I will bring them over as soon as I can round them up sir. Some of them are still in the town.”

“You let your men have leave, have the freedom of the city?” Nelson asked, shocked. “You may discover there are no men left to find.”

“Not likely sir, begging your pardon. We captured a valuable prize on our way here. None of them wants to lose his share of the money sir.”

Nelson laughed at that, really laughed. “An ingenious incentive. We'll find out if it was enough.”

“Yes sir. Then with your permission, I'll return to Erebus and assemble my men, then return as soon as practicable.”

“Very well Mr. Granger,” Nelson said, dismissing him. Granger descended back into his boat and had himself rowed back to Erebus.

“Pass the word for Mr. Wilson and Mr. Carslake,” Granger ordered. “Winkler, get my things ready to transfer over to Agamemnon.”

“Aye aye sir,” Winkler said, and scurried off.

“Sir?” said Carslake and Wilson, reporting in.

“We're transferring to the Agamemnon as soon as possible. You two are in charge of rounding up the men.”

“Aye aye sir!” they said, and went to rouse the men on Erebus. They spent the day moving men and items to the Agamemnon. As the sun began to set, Granger approached the lieutenant in charge of the Erebus.

“We've transferred to the Agamemnon sir,” Granger said. “All men accounted for.”

“Lucky for you,” he groused. Then he rudely turned his back on Granger and huffed off to his cabin. Granger couldn't help grinning at him as he left.

October 18, 1793

Granger gazed back at Port Mahon as Agamemnon took advantage of the morning breeze to sail out on the tide. It was a nice town, Granger just wished the naval personnel there had been as nice as the local populace. Just two full days in port and Nelson was off again. The man was a perpetual motion machine. Any other captain would have spent at least a week in port, but not Nelson.

“It seems your vacation is over Mr. Granger,” Nelson said as he walked up next to him.

“Yes sir. But I fear Lord Hood will be lost without me,” Granger joked.

“That is probably more true than you know,” Nelson said, then he strode off purposely to guide his ship out of harbor. It took several hours to clear the harbor and catch the westerly wind, but once they did, the Agamemnon took flight, showing that turn of speed that Granger had already seen.

He headed down to the wardroom and found Blackwell there, alone. He saw Granger and smiled weakly, but Granger could feel the conflict within him, could sense his desire to run away. “Well hello there,” Granger said cheerfully. “I' have some unpacking to do. Come keep me company.”

“I'm on watch in a bit,” Blackwell objected.

“Then keep me company for a bit,” Granger said. He led Blackwell into the same cabin he'd occupied before. Blackwell walked in like he expected Granger to bite him. “Why are you so nervous around me?”

Blackwell swallowed hard. “You make me uncomfortable. I'm sorry George, you just do. I shouldn't have told you those things about Arthur.”

“I don't understand. Why not?” Granger didn't get him.

“Because now you think there's some sort of relationship going on between Arthur and me.”

“Is there?” Granger asked. “Or did you just fuck him?” He was trying to keep the mood light, but Blackwell wasn't having it.

“So you think that's it? That I'm a sodomite?” Blackwell was really handling this badly.

“No, that's not the point here. You hinted, alluded to a possibility that there was something going on between you two. I'm not accusing you of being a sodomite, I'm telling you that I don't care if you are. And I'm telling you that even if you are, your secret is safe with me.” Granger was getting frustrated, and not a little offended. Was his word worthless?

“Arthur is my partner,” Blackwell said quietly.

“That's smashing!” Granger said enthusiastically. “He is such a great guy, and you seem like a great guy too, when you're not being an absolute nitwit.”

“Thanks George. You know what this would mean to my career if it got out. I've been so good at keeping it hidden, and for some reason, when I let it slip with you, I had this vision of my whole world falling apart. It has really weighed on me.”

“You have very little faith in me,” Granger said, offended. “You must not consider me to be a worthy friend to you or to Arthur.”

“I'm sorry,” he said. “That's not it at all. I didn't mean to give you that impression. Arthur and I have a commitment to each other, and that commitment includes a pledge of monogamy.”

“How long have you been together and had this commitment?” Granger asked.

“Only since March, but I went to sea almost right afterwards. It's been hard on both of us, trying to remain faithful. I think it is only our letters that keep me sane.” Granger felt the deck falling beneath his feet, even though it wasn't. He'd fucked Arthur in May, when he was supposed to be celibate, pining away for Blackwell. He'd cuckholded this man sitting next to him on his cot.

“So is that how you found out that Arthur and I are friends?” Granger wanted to know what Arthur had told him, without giving anything away.

“It is. He told me how refreshing it was to meet an old friend, someone he could trust in the snake pit that was London.” Blackwell grinned slightly. “He told me how you used to let him pleasure you in school.”

Granger felt himself blushing. “It was just two guys helping each other out. But it was a lot of fun.”

“That's the other thing George. I was worried that if I was open with you about who I was, about my preferences, and if you weren't disgusted, that I'd be tempted to, well, try that with you, what you did with Arthur.” He looked at Granger, then away. “And I want to remain faithful to Arthur.”

Granger put his hand on Blackwell's shoulder and felt him jump. “I commend you for being so loyal. I'll try not to tempt you away.”

“That's just the problem though,” Blackwell said, facing Granger and moving his face closer. “I don't think I can resist you.” Then his lips were on Granger's lips, and his hand was on Granger's thigh. Granger responded to his kisses, feeling Blackwell's hand move slowly, maddeningly slowly, up his thigh. Then suddenly he broke off the kiss, jumped up, and fled from Granger's cabin.

Granger sat on his cot, frustrated with Blackwell for teasing him, for getting him all riled up. Frustrated with himself for being such a slut. But most of all, irritated with Arthur for fucking him, and putting Granger into this situation where he'd have to lie to Blackwell just as he was trying to be friends with him.