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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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HMS Belvidera - 19. Chapter 19

November 29, 1795

“You’ll have to warp her in,” Jervis observed, stating the obvious. Granger stood on the quarterdeck, staring at the crowded anchorage of San Fiorenzo. It was a beautiful winter day. The skies were sunny, the temperature wasn’t too cold, and everything was perfect except for one thing: There wasn’t even the hint of a breeze. Granger stared at the fleet at anchor, some 15 ships of the line, a frigate, and a couple of sloops. They looked to all the world to be completely unmanned, as if there was no sign of life aboard. Granger knew they appeared that way because they were far away, and that once they got closer, the details would come into focus. But it was the impression he got, of a fleet that was just sort of sitting there, wasting away, that was so discouraging.

“Yes, sir,” Granger said, pulling himself out of his daydream. “Mr. Roberts, we’ll need the launch, the cutter, and my gig manned. Rig lines to the bow. We’re going to warp her in.”

“Aye aye sir,” he said crisply. They began the evolution of lowering the boats, all of them except the jolly boat, and then the men poured into them. The lines were attached to the bow, and the men in the boats began to heave, pulling Belvidera’s massive bulk into the harbor. As easy as she was to sail, as sweetly as she went along under normal sail, so she was just the opposite when it came to tugging her along with the boats.

Granger scanned the harbor with his glass, taking in all the ships, many that he knew, some he’d even served on. There, near the center of the fleet, lay HMS Victory, Hood’s flagship at Toulon. He hoped Jervis would grant her the honor of being his flagship as well. She was old but well-founded; probably the best three-decker in the fleet. But the ship that really caught his attention was off to the side, close to the shore. Aurore was there, her deck busy as they took on water. Granger trained his glass onto her quarterdeck and saw Robey directing the men as they lowered the casks into the hold. He felt the same burst of pain he always felt when he saw Robey. The pain at suspecting that Robey had a much bigger part of Travers’ heart than Travers was willing to admit.

They labored for an hour before Granger had Roberts change out the boat crews, rotating fresh men into the boats, keeping the crews as fresh as possible. It was hard, arduous work. It took them four hours to finally drag Belvidera into the anchorage, and then there wasn’t even enough way on her for her to grab her anchor. They had to drop the anchor and use the boats to pull her to, forcing it to grab the bottom.

The other ships had watched with apparent indifference as Belvidera had slowly arrived. They’d seen the admiral’s flag at the main mast, and with a glass they could spot him fuming on the deck. Still, nothing happened, no deputation, nothing. It was most strange. “Signal Parker to repair on board. Linzee and Mann too,” Sir John snarled, rattling off the admirals in the port. He then went below. Lennox looked at Granger, raised his eyebrows, and then ran up the signals.

Sir Hyde Parker was the first to arrive. Granger hadn’t seen him for quite some time. “Granger, I see you’ve brought Sir John out with you.” He seemed to be in pleasant enough spirits. Granger suspected that would change. Evidently Hotham had left Parker in command of the fleet and had already gone home. Granger thought that was a cowardly thing to do, to leave Parker here to answer for Hotham’s failures.

“Yes sir,” Granger said respectfully. He led Parker below and returned just in time to greet Vice Admiral Linzee and lead him aft as well. Last and least was Mann, a man who looked like an old woman, and to all accounts acted like one when in command of his ships. So this was one of the members of the Wilcox clan he’d have to watch out for. He didn’t look to be any brighter than any of the other Wilcoxes he’d run across.

“So you’re Granger,” he said condescendingly. “And this is the ship that was the crux of sodomy in the fleet of the Nore.”

Granger bit back his anger, although subconsciously he pondered that in many ways Belvidera still was a center of sodomy. The humor in that helped cool his irritation. “That was a long time ago, sir,” Granger said respectfully or at least with as much respect as he could muster. “Since that time we’ve battled a ship-of-the-line twice, despite the lack of support from our admiral.” He watched Mann recoil at the dig directed to his relative.

“I’ve heard all about you. I hope you don’t plan on going off on your fool’s errands while you’re with this fleet,” he snapped.

“I will go where Sir John instructs me, sir,” Granger said coolly. “Now if you will follow me, I will lead you aft.” Granger led Mann back and escorted him into the cabin.

Sir John was fuming at Parker and Linzee. “You’re telling me that the fleet is short of everything? Canvas, cordage, food, medical supplies, everything?”

“Yes, sir,” Parker said, clearly irritated at being browbeaten. He glared at Granger as he stood there awaiting orders. Admirals didn’t like to be browbeaten in front of captains, and Granger had no desire to witness the scene either.

“Will you need anything else, Sir John?” Granger asked.

“Unless you can drum up enough canvas for the fleet, and some extra rations, I fancy I’m finished with you,” Jervis snapped.

“Aye aye sir,” Granger said simply, and left them alone. Their meeting went on for some time. Granger paced back and forth on the starboard side of the quarterdeck, his exclusive domain. The starboard side was customarily reserved for the Captain. He could hear Jervis’ booming voice through the skylight. When it finally ended, Granger saw the three admirals storm up on the deck.

“Your boat is alongside, Sir Hyde,” Granger said courteously. “It was a pleasure to see you again.” Parker merely nodded and then he was over the side. Linzee did much the same thing, and then it was Mann’s turn.

“I suspect we will meet again, Granger,” Mann said with an evil grin. “I’ve requested that you be assigned to my squadron. And I promise you, you won’t enjoy it one bit.”

Granger was about to respond when he heard a booming voice behind him. “Admiral, if you have nothing better to do than harass my flag captain, I will find a ship suitable to take you back to England.”

“Yes, sir,” Mann said, in a smarmy manner. Then he descended into his boat.

“I suppose that was inevitable, since he’s a Wilcox and they’ve decided to make your life hell,” Jervis said.

“I fear you are right, sir,” Granger said. “I would most heartily prefer not to be assigned to his squadron, if that meets with your needs, sir.”

Jervis smiled. “I will make sure that you stay as far from Mann as possible.”

“I am in your debt, sir,” Granger said, with a slight grin. Jervis just nodded and went below. Granger heard the admiral’s voice booming up through the skylight as he rattled out directives to his staff.

A boat pulled up to the side of the ship and a midshipman came on board, looking quite nervous. He was short and slight; with hair so blond it was almost white. He approached Granger as if Granger was the devil incarnate. “I have a message for you, sir,” he said timidly.

“And who might you be?” Granger asked with a smile.

“Adam Stamford, sir, from the Aurore,” he said, stuttering slightly. It must be a message from Travers! Granger hid his excitement.

“Welcome aboard Mr. Stamford. And what is this message you have for me?”

He pulled a note from his pocket and handed it to Granger. It was an invitation from Travers for him to join him for supper. It was scrawled out in sloppy form, clearly Travers’ handwriting, but almost indecipherable nonetheless. Granger couldn’t hide his grin at that. “Mr. Cavendish, keep Mr. Stamford company while I go see the admiral.”

“Aye aye sir,” Cavendish said cheerfully. Granger went below to see Jervis.

He walked in to find Jervis fuming at his secretary and one of his flag lieutenants, rattling off a list of supplies they’d need to acquire. Granger wondered where exactly Jervis thought he was going to get them. This place looked to be as barren as the northern hills of Scotland. “What do you want, Granger?” he snapped.

“I have been invited to take supper this evening with an old friend, sir. I wanted to make sure that you would not need me,” Granger said. Jervis looked at him, his eyes narrowing. Jervis didn’t like Captains who spent all their time dining with each other.

“Friends are a rarity in the service. You may keep your engagement. In the meantime, you can join me for dinner. I find that lambasting admirals works up an appetite.”

Granger smiled. “It will be a pleasure to dine with you, sir. I will give orders for that, if you’ll excuse me.” Granger got a simple look for confirmation, and then left his cabin. He paused to give Winkler instructions to prepare dinner, and then went to find Stamford. He was skylarking with Cavendish on the larboard side of the quarterdeck.

“Mr. Stamford,” Granger said, interrupting their conversation.

“Sir?”

“Please tell Captain Travers that I would be happy to sup with him,” Granger said. The man looked confused. “I accept his invitation.”

“Yes sir,” he said. Then mumbled something to Cavendish and hurried back to his boat.

“He seems a bit nervous, sir,” Cavendish said with a grin.

“He certainly does,” Granger said. “I wonder why that is?”

“He said his first lieutenant has been in a bad mood lately,” Cavendish said. Robey in a bad mood? Granger wondered what that was all about.

“Did he say why?” Granger asked.

“No sir,” Cavendish said.

“Well, I must go dine with Sir John,” Granger said.

He found the dining table loaded with food, much more than he or Jervis could eat. Still, they attacked the food with vigor. Jervis made pleasant small talk about the meal, and then he got to the point, to what was on his mind.

“They’ve sent me here and given me idiots for subordinates,” Jervis growled.

“You knew this would be a challenge, sir,” Granger said gently. “That’s why they picked you for the job.”

“You sound like a politician, Granger. Did you know there was a mutiny on board Terrible quite recently? And two other ships before that. These eminences don’t seem to think that’s really something to get all upset about. As if it were a normal course of business.”

Granger knew there were different types of mutiny. The extreme form was when men took over the ship, like the one that had happened on Belvidera. These mutinies, the ones Jervis was referring to, weren’t like that at all. They were a much more benign form, somewhat akin to a labor strike. Still, there was no room in Sir John’s world for any insubordination. “It will take time to change the culture of the fleet, sir.”

“I’m transferring my flag to Victory tomorrow. You can finally be rid of me then,” he said.

“We will miss you, sir,” Granger said. He hoped it didn’t sound too insincere.

“Bah. You’ll be happy to have your cabin back. I’m going to send you to sea. Can’t have you getting corrupted by these poltroons.” He paused, thinking. “Nelson is near Genoa raising hell with the French supply ships. I want you to track him down and tell him to rejoin the fleet when convenient, but not later than the end of January.”

“Aye aye sir,” Granger said.

“You can remain with him, under his orders, for the time being. While you’re gone, I’ll be busy trying to see what can be done to repair the fleet, such as it is. I’ll be off Toulon within a fortnight, so you can find me there.”

“Yes sir,” Granger said.


 

Granger watched Aurore grow in size as they got closer. She was a lovely ship, not quite as lovely as Belvidera, but lovely nonetheless. He had become accustomed to Belvidera’s longer hull, and more raked prow and that made Aurore seem slightly stunted in return. His boat was hailed, and Jeffers responded crisply. They hooked on to the main chains, and then Granger hauled himself up the familiar side of the ship. The first thing he noticed when he got on board was the atmosphere. He was conscious that the environment seemed tense, completely unlike the last time he’d been aboard.

“Welcome aboard, sir,” Robey said, greeting him insincerely. His eyes looked glazed, like a man who had become angry and could not quite displace it.

“It is good to see you, Mr. Robey,” Granger said courteously.

“I suppose you’re here to spend time with the captain, sir?” he asked, in a relatively nasty tone.

“I don’t think your tone is appropriate, Mr. Robey,” Granger snapped. He watched the man recoil.

“My apologies, sir,” he said, even though he didn’t mean it. “Allow me to guide you aft.”

“That is quite alright, Mr. Robey. I can find my own way,” Granger said.

“Really, sir, it won’t be a problem at all,” Robey said.

“I said I could find my own way,” Granger snapped. He pushed past Robey and headed back to Travers’ cabin. The marine guard snapped to attention. Granger breezed past him into Travers cabin, and was stunned by what he saw. Travers was at his desk, his shoulders slumped, his head in his hands, seemingly despondent. Worse yet, there was a half-empty decanter on the desk next to him. He looked up at Granger with bleary eyes.

“George!” he said enthusiastically. Granger expected him to slur, but he had the look of a man who had learned to drink without too many outward signs of drunkenness. He jumped up and came over to Granger and hugged him. It wasn’t a friendly hug, it wasn’t the hug of lovers, it was a desperate hug, one man clinging to the other, begging him for help.

“What is wrong, John?” Granger asked.

“Nothing is wrong. Just enjoying some wine along with supper,” he said.

“Only you haven’t had supper yet,” Granger reminded him. Granger put his hands on Travers’ cheeks and pulled his eyes to his, forcing them to meet. “Look at me. I know you. Tell me what demon has possessed you.”

“I cannot tell you,” he said, almost a sob.

“Yes you can,” Granger said, holding up his left wrist, showing him the brand of the Brotherhood. And then Travers broke down, sobbing uncontrollably, and just clung on to Granger as if for dear life. “You must tell me what is wrong.”

There was a knock at the door, and Robey entered. “Mr. Robey, see that we are not disturbed,” Granger ordered.

“Captain Travers wants me to be here,” he said obstinately.

“You call me sir,” Granger snapped. He looked at Travers, who was clearly conflicted.

“Yes, sir. But I take my orders from Captain Travers,” he said. Travers said nothing. The whole vignette had taken Granger from irritated to seriously angry in no time at all.

“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. You are going to leave this cabin as I have ordered,” Granger said, his voice full of fury. “If you do not obey my orders, I will place you under arrest and drag you back to my ship. Sir John is looking for someone to make an example of, and he would have no qualms stringing a self-important lieutenant up from the yardarm.”

That seemed to break Robey’s will. “Aye aye sir,” he said.

Granger followed him out and looked at the marine. “Marine, you are to let no one past that door. No one. Not Lieutenant Robey, no one. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” he said nervously.

“I see anyone, it’s two dozen lashes for you,” Granger snarled. He noted briefly that he was snarling like Jervis. How glad he would be to get rid of the admiral.

“Aye aye sir,” the marine said, snapping to attention. Granger shut the door and went back to Travers.

“Why does Lieutenant Robey think he can treat you as his pawn, and what makes him think he can be insubordinate to me?” Granger asked him.

“This hasn’t been easy on him,” Travers said sadly.

“What hasn’t been easy on him? What is wrong with you?” Granger didn’t get it. Travers had always been a rock, a solid and reliable person. The man in front of him was a puddle of gelatin.

“He hurt me so bad, George. It hurt so badly,” he said. Then he started sobbing again. Granger led him to his sleeping cabin and lay down on the bed with him, just holding him for what seemed like an eternity. Granger noticed how pungent his body odor was. Travers’ smell had never bothered him before, but now it was truly overpowering. It had been a long time since Travers had bathed, since he’d even put on a clean shirt. Granger ignored it as best he could and held on to Travers until finally his sobbing stopped.

“Jardines?” Granger asked. Travers nodded.

“And now, now I’ve let it get to me, I can’t even, I can’t do anything,” he said, and started sobbing all over again. Granger stared at him, concerned, then moved his hand down to Travers groin and squeezed slightly. He was flaccid. “It doesn’t work.”

Granger cursed Jardines to hell, swore that if he ever saw him again he’d run him through with his sword, but this wasn’t the time for plotting revenge. “What does that have to do with Robey?”

“He’s mad at me because I can’t fuck him. He thinks I don’t want to. So he’s become a bit touchy,” Travers said. So this whole thing with Jardines had so warped Travers’ mind that he was now impotent.

“And you can’t tell him why without betraying your oath to the Brotherhood?” Granger asked. Travers nodded. “So he takes it out on you, and rules you with an iron fist?” He nodded again. “And you feel so guilty that you let him?” He nodded once more.

Granger sat up and looked at him. “Strip off your clothes,” he ordered. Travers looked at him funny, and then started doing what he was told. This was so unlike him, the strong and dominant man Granger had fallen in love with, meekly doing what people told him. Granger went to the cabin door and ordered the marine to pass the word for Travers’ servant. In no time at all, a mousy looking man came in, looking at him nervously.

“Sir?” he asked.

“Captain Travers wants to take a bath before supper. You will have them rig the wash deck pump at once. Then get some people in here to clean up this cabin,” Granger ordered firmly.

“Aye aye, sir,” he said, and scurried off. Granger went back to find Travers standing in his cabin, naked and confused. For the first time since they’d been together, the sight of Travers naked didn’t arouse him.

“You’re taking a bath,” Granger said. He just nodded. Granger stared at him, stared at him hard, and then slapped him on the face as hard as he could. Travers recoiled, and then looked at Granger with fire in his eyes.

“What the fuck was that for?” he demanded.

“You are a King’s officer. There are men depending on you, willing to risk their lives for you. You have to lead them. You have to snap out of this. If you don’t, Sir John Jervis will send you back to England and you’ll end up on the shore like so much flotsam. Is that what you want? You want to have to earn your living as a mate on a merchant brig?” Granger let his anger fully vent. He glared at Travers, pierced through his veil, and for the first time, felt like he was getting through.

“You’re right, George,” he said. Travers’ servant arrived and put a bathrobe over his shoulder and led him up on the deck.

“Pass the word for Mr. Robey,” Granger ordered. He waited, sitting at Travers’ desk, for Robey to find his way aft.

“You sent for me, sir?” he asked.

“What’s the date of your commission?” Granger demanded.

“July of ’93,” he said.

“Excellent. You are being transferred to the Belvidera. Gather your belongings and say your farewells as quickly as possible,” Granger ordered.

“Sir?” Robey asked. “I don’t want to transfer ships. I’m content here.”

“I don’t recall asking what you want, Lieutenant. Those are your orders. You have all but caused Captain Travers to become a lump of clay. I cannot trust you here, not for him, not for the good of this ship,” Granger stated.

“Begging your pardon, sir, but you can’t transfer me without the approval of Captain Travers,” he said. Granger just looked at him.

“Mr. Robey, you will gather your things and be ready to leave within the hour. If you are not, I will place you under arrest,” Granger said. “Do you understand?”

Robey swallowed hard. “Aye aye sir.”

Granger went up on deck, and hailed his gig, which was waiting for him below. “Jeffers,” he called, getting his attention. “Take the gig back to Belvidera. Get Mr. Merrick. Tell him he’s transferring to Aurore, and that he should bring his dunnage with him.”

“Aye aye sir,” Jeffers said. That was as it should be. A crisp order, obeyed crisply.

Granger went back down to Travers cabin and found him dressing, putting on a fresh shirt. He looked refreshed, a bit like his old self. “I’ve ordered Lieutenant Robey to transfer to the Belvidera. My second lieutenant is a superb officer. He will replace him,” Granger told him.

“And you did all of this without my approval?” Travers asked, irritated.

“I did,” Granger said. “I did it because I love you.” He moved up and gave Travers a loving kiss. “And I did it to save Robey. I’ll remind him how to be a King’s officer.”

“You sure you aren’t doing this just to keep me chaste for you?” Travers said, a slight smile on his face.

“On the contrary,” Granger said. He reached down and grabbed Travers hardening cock through his trousers. “When you are feeling fully engorged, I think you will find your new lieutenant a most willing partner.”

Travers chuckled, and then he pulled Granger in and kissed him. The man Granger had fallen in love with was back with him, at least for a minute. He felt Travers’ hands on his ass and pivoted around, pulling his own breeches down while Travers did the same. A glob of lanolin, and Travers was in him, fucking him, and it was nice, but it wasn’t like before. There was something missing, and that something was respect. When they were done, Travers was euphoric, but Granger was saddened. Still, he hid it gamely. They went out to his cabin and Granger ordered his servant to lay out some food for them.

They were just finishing up when a knock on the door heralded the arrival of Merrick. “You sent for me sir?”

“I’ve arranged for you to assume the duties of first lieutenant of Aurore,” Granger said. “You are talented and organized, and Captain Travers can use a good man like you.”

He watched the emotions fly across Merrick’s face: Happiness at being first lieutenant again, and sadness at leaving Belvidera and Roberts behind. “Aye aye sir,” he said in the end, as a good first lieutenant should.

“Welcome aboard Mr. Merrick. I’ll let you settle in and meet the other officers, and then you can report back to me on the status of our stores,” Travers said, sounding like the captain he’d been on Vesuvius, the captain he’d been before.

“I must leave you,” Granger said. “Sir John transfers to the Victory tomorrow morning, and I must ensure that things are ready for his departure.” He shook Merrick’s hand. “Good luck Mr. Merrick.” Then he turned to Travers and winked. “Good luck Captain.”

Granger strode up the ladder to the quarterdeck to find a very irritated, but subdued Robey waiting for him. “Is your chest in the boat?” Granger asked.

“Yes, sir,” he said.

“Then you may precede me,” Granger said. Robey lowered himself down into the boat, followed by Granger, as was customary.

“Are you planning to make my life a living hell, sir?” Robey asked as they rowed back, his voice low enough that the men couldn’t hear.

“No, Mr. Robey, I’m going to expect you to be an important and invaluable part of Belvidera’s wardroom. You were once a superb officer. I would like to see you as one again,” Granger said.

Robey was silent for a long time, until they were almost back to Belvidera. “I understand, sir,” he said. Granger looked at him and could see that the insolence had gone, and the realization had hit him.

They got back to the ship to find a very curious Roberts waiting for him. “Mr. Roberts, this is Lieutenant Robey. He will assume the duties of second lieutenant in Mr. Merrick’s place. Right now, we must see to the transfer of Sir John. When that is complete, we can discuss these changes.”

“Aye aye sir,” Roberts said automatically.

“As I recall, Mr. Merrick was sharing your cabin?” Roberts nodded. “That will work out well. You will recall how we had to discipline Mr. Merrick when you first joined the ship?” Roberts nodded again. “Mr. Robey needs a similar indoctrination.”

Roberts got a big smile on his face. “Aye aye sir,” he said. “Come along Mr. Robey. Let me show you where you’ll be bunking tonight. I think you’re going to like it here.”

Robey looked at him wide-eyed, then nodded and followed Roberts down to the Wardroom. Granger stood there on the quarterdeck and suddenly realized what a long, stressful day it had been, and how exhausted he was. He headed down to his cabin and Winkler helped him strip off his clothes. He climbed into his cot and was about to sink into the oblivion of sleep when the door opened and he heard Cavendish come in.

“Is it OK that I’m here, sir?” he asked. Granger looked up at his handsome face, at this young man that he loved, and smiled.

“It is better than OK, it is wonderful,” Granger said. Cavendish stripped his clothes off and climbed into bed with Granger. As exhausted as he was, Granger suddenly felt the desperate need to couple with the young man, to cleanse away the bad feelings he’d just endured. Cavendish lay on top of him, kissing him while he guided his massive tool into Granger’s waiting ass. He moved slowly but purposefully in and out, bringing them slowly to a spectacular orgasm.

“I love you Freddie,” he said, as they lay intertwined on the cot.

“I love you too,” Cavendish said with a smile.

November 30, 1795

Shortly after dawn, Belvidera’s boats began to lug Sir John Jervis’ supplies and personal items over to the Victory. Fortunately there was a light breeze today, enough to allow for some ventilation of the ship.

Before Jervis was ready to leave, though, it was time to say goodbye to one of their own. Lennox came up on deck, looking quite handsome in the lieutenant’s uniform he’d manage to put together with contributions from Carslake, Roberts, and Merrick. His sea chest was lugged up by a couple of the men, and then lowered over the side. Lennox’ eyes watched it go, seemingly reluctant to follow it.

“You are being given quite an opportunity, Mr. Lennox,” Granger said formally, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.

“Yes sir,” he said, his voice cracking a bit.

“You will be missed. You’ve grown into a fine young man, and a fine officer, one that I’m proud to have served with,” Granger said. He took Lennox’s hand, and felt his clammy palm grasp his back.

“Thank you, sir, for everything,” he said.

“No Mr. Lennox, thank you. We will see you soon enough. Now be off with you. You don’t want to delay the admiral.”

“Aye aye sir,” Lennox said. Granger watched him descend into the boat, watched his blond hair vanish over the side. He’d grown accustomed to Lennox, and was quite fond of him. It was really wrenching to have their little family, such as it was, broken up like this, even for something as positive as a promotion.

And then, with that maddening way he had, Jervis was next to him without Granger even having seen him walk up on deck. “Granger, you have a sound ship and a good crew. It was a pleasure sailing with you,” he said simply.

“Thank you, Sir John,” Granger said. That was fulsome praise from him, and it was hard not to smile at the compliment. “The pleasure was most assuredly ours.”

“So you say. You’ll need to take on water?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Granger said. “We should be able to complete that today, or by tomorrow at the latest.” He nodded.

“Your orders are in your cabin,” he said. “I will see you off Toulon.”

“Aye aye, sir,” Granger said. He escorted the admiral over the side. As soon as he left, his flag came fluttering down from the main mast. Belvidera was no longer the flagship, and Granger wasn’t unhappy about that at all. He watched as his gig took them to the Victory, watched as they mounted the side, and watched as the admiral’s flag soared up to Victory’s main mast. As soon as it reached its peak, all the ships in the fleet, Belvidera included, fired a salute of 17 guns, acknowledging that they were under Jervis’ command.

Granger went below and walked past the marine guard, glad to finally have his cabin back. Winkler was scurrying around trying to get everything back in order. “Your orders are on your desk, sir,” he told Granger.

“Thank you Winkler. Will the rats be moving back into my chartroom?” Granger joked.

“As soon as they can, sir,” he said with his cheeky grin. Granger chuckled and went back to his day cabin to review the orders. They were direct and to the point, just like Jervis’ verbal communications. He was to sail as soon as possible to find Captain Nelson and bid him to find the admiral when his duties would allow. He was to remain under Nelson’s command until further notice. That made Granger smile. There was almost sure to be action under Nelson’s command. The man was much too active to just sail about and accomplish nothing. Granger locked the orders in his safe and headed back up on deck.

“Mr. Roberts, we’ll move Belvidera closer to the town and begin watering as soon as possible. I want it finished today,” Granger said.

“Aye aye sir,” he said. Robey was standing behind him, looking subdued. Granger wondered if Roberts had drilled him yet. Maybe that’s all Robey needed: a good fuck.

“Call my gig, if you please,” Granger ordered. Then he went below to change into his second best uniform. By the time he was finished dressing and got back up on deck, the gig was alongside. He watched Roberts bring Belvidera close to town, then let the anchor go. They hadn’t hauled it all the way up, fortunately for the poor men who had to strain at the capstan, but it was still a laborious task. Granger looked across the water to where Aurore floated peacefully. She was no more than two cables’ lengths away, so close it must be maddening for both Merrick and Robey. The sooner they were finished and out of here, the better. He descended into his gig and told Jeffers to take him to the Aurore.

He mounted the side, acknowledging the honors due him, and he could sense the difference already. There was an air of calm efficiency, as if the whole ship was mimicking Merrick’s personality. Travers was on deck to greet him, looking amazingly centered and sober. “Welcome,” he said, extending his hand in a warm greeting.

“Thank you, sir,” Granger said. “I was about to visit the little town here, and wondered if you’d like to join me?”

Travers looked nervous at first, but then smiled. “I would be delighted.” Granger led him into his gig, and they sat there in relative silence while they were rowed over to the town. Jeffers swung the gig neatly up to the jetty and tied up alongside, and Travers jumped out smartly, followed by Granger. They strolled along the jetty toward the town.

“Did you have any plans on where to go?” Travers asked.

“No, I just wanted to spend some time with you,” Granger said.

“To make sure I’m better, that I’m not imploding?” Travers asked, slightly irritated.

“I think that’s a reasonable thing to do,” Granger answered, unwilling to put up with any attitude. Travers nodded and led him to an inn. He got a room for them with a bath. Granger just stood in the background, letting him arrange everything. The innkeeper led them up to a big room with a big bathtub, and the servants began to fill it up for them. Finally, when it was done, the staff left them, and they were alone.

“It looks like there’s room for two,” Granger observed with a grin.

“I’m hoping,” Travers said. They took their clothes off carefully until they were both naked, only there was tension in the air, enough to keep either of them from getting an erection. They climbed in the tub together, but it was awkward. Granger steeled himself and put on his playful persona, moving up to Travers and wrapping his arms around his neck. He kissed him lovingly, not passionately, and felt Travers start to relax.

“I heard what happened,” Granger said. “I’m sorry John.”

“There was nothing I could do,” Travers said, “I was tied up, vulnerable, and he just rammed that massive thing inside me.” Granger moved up and kissed away the tear that formed in the corner of his eye.

“Not all men are like that. Some are gentle. Some love you,” Granger said. That got him a small smile.

“I could say nothing, talk to no one. Not that I would, but I don’t know what to do. I feel like it’s still there, like his big dick is still inside me. Last night was the first time I actually got an erection and had sex in months. I don’t know what to do, George. I’m so miserable. I feel the pain inside; it haunts me.”

“And it was nice, last night was,” Granger said. He sat on Travers’ lap and felt him starting to harden underneath him. “You don’t seem to have any problems today.”

Travers smiled. “That’s because I’m here with you,” he said. Then he stopped and looked at Granger, truly horrified. “This is why Robey was so upset. He thought it was him, and it was.”

“I don’t think it was Robey, I think it was because you can finally be open about what happened, be honest about it. I think that has been liberating for you,” Granger said. This wasn’t a conversation he enjoyed; trying to explain why Travers shouldn’t think Granger was superior to his previous lover. They finished bathing; just enjoying the physical contact, then dried off and went over to the bed. Travers nervously looked at his clothes, like he wanted to put them on and leave.

“We should probably get back,” he said.

“I can help you, but you have to trust me,” Granger said to him, looking him squarely in the eye. “Do you?”

“I trust you George,” he said nervously. “How can you help me?”

“Let me make love to you,” Granger said. He saw Travers cringe and almost curl up on himself.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” he said softly. Granger had been disgusted with him, frustrated with him, mad at him, but now his heart went out to Travers. The poor man had been violated in a way that had left his mind almost unhinged.

“Do you remember in the past, when you let me?” Granger asked. Travers nodded. “It was enjoyable then, was it not?” Travers grinned a little and nodded. “Then why would it be different now?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Because of what happened.”

“Trust me,” Granger said, and moved up to kiss him. Travers responded reluctantly, and then rolled over onto his stomach, surrendering to Granger in what Granger guessed must be one of the bravest things he’d ever done. He’d expected Granger to jump right in, but that’s not what he did. Instead, Granger began to slowly massage his muscles, his shoulders, his neck, and his back. He ran his fingers tauntingly across Travers’ ass, down his crack, but only briefly, and then began to work on his legs, each individually; bringing Travers to such a state of relaxation that he was almost asleep.

Then Granger started working with his mouth, kissing his way up the inside of Travers’ thighs. He looked up and saw Travers’ big balls in front of him and paused to lick and suck on them, then moved up to his taint. He felt Travers tense up, then relax, as Granger inhaled his unique scent, savoring the smell of this man he loved. Then he moved up, feeling the tension levels rise as his mouth reached Travers’ hole. Granger ignored that and dove in, rimming and teasing the edges, until he finally felt Travers relax and let himself enjoy it.

He took the lanolin and lubed Travers up liberally, feeling him tense up as he did. Then he lined his dick up and slowly pushed in. He felt Travers close up, forcing his hole to slam shut. “Come on John, it’s me, let me in. Let me show you how much I love you,” Granger cooed in his ear. He showed amazing restraint for a twenty-year-old man, keeping his hard cock pressed against Travers’ hole, not to force his way in, but to provide gentle pressure so when Travers eased, Granger would move in slowly. It seemed to take forever, and for a while Granger thought that Travers would never let him in, but finally, just when he was about to give up, Travers’ sphincter opened and Granger plunged in.

Travers cried out in alarm and squeezed tightly, trying to force Granger out, but now that he was inside, Granger was having none of it. “Relax John, relax. Let me make you feel amazing,” he said. Then he started moving in and out, slowly and gently, letting Travers feel all the love he felt for him. And just as it took forever for him to let Granger in, so it seemed to take forever for Travers to let himself go and really enjoy it. And just like before, Granger was about to give up and just pleasure himself, when finally something clicked, a switch went off inside Travers’ body.

Granger felt him arch back up, his ass moving against Granger’s groin. He moaned softly, then more loudly, a deep, guttural moan, the moan of a virile man. “That’s it, George. Now I remember. Now I remember how good you are, how good it can be!” Granger rolled Travers over onto his side and began to make love to him with a purpose, letting his hands run across Travers’ amazing physique. When his hand found Travers’ cock, it was hard as a rock.

“No problem with this,” Granger said. “You are such a man.” Then he moved more quickly, with his cock in Travers’ ass and his hand on Travers’ dick, and brought them both off in one amazing orgasm. He’d never felt Travers quake and explode like that; it was as if it was a purge, as if he was blasting out his load and his psyche at the same time. Granger nursed Travers along, squeezing every last drop of cum out of his body, and then let him collapse onto his back.

Travers gazed up at Granger with a huge grin on his face, a grin that only got bigger as Granger sucked Travers’ cum first off his fingers, then licked it off Travers’ abdomen. “You are magnificent George. God, how I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said.

“How is it that you knew exactly what to do to make me feel whole again, to feel like a man again?” Travers asked.

“I just know you. What happened is behind you now. You must look forward. You are an amazing man, and an amazing officer. And you’ll need to be on your toes if you’re going to meet Sir John’s standards.”

They got dressed and walked back to the gig, both of them refreshed and clean, inside and out. “You can send Robey back,” Travers said. “I can deal with him now.”

“No, I think I’ll keep him for a while. You may be ready for him to come back, but I’m not sure he is,” Granger said. Travers just nodded.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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On 05/23/2011 08:47 AM, Andrew_Q_Gordon said:
If 18 was one of the more fun chapters, 19 was one of the more engaging ones. That one saw emotions all over the board. Seeing Travers like that and having George take charge and help repair the damage was a masterful chapter.

 

One does wonder what George would do if he were to come face to face with Jardines. I don't suspect it would go well for the Major.

I suspect you're right. A duel perhaps? I'll have to send Granger East again at some point.
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The Travers trauma plot device has always bothered me because he showed no signs of being so distraught in London when the event had been so recent. It's not a big deal, but it did cause my tightly suspended disbelief to ripple.

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Once again George uses sex to solve personal and political problems.  I am glad he was able to get John back on track.  The fact that he has lost respect for John is disturbing.  One could almost assume George does not really love John and is using John's reaction to rape as an excuse to focus more on Cavendish.  To me that is dishonourable of George.  That he is planning to reeducate Robey like he did Merrick seems a bit self serving. 

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That was not a pleasant read. It made me feel bad about Travers and unsure about the whole book itself. He wasn’t that disturbed when George was demanding answers from him back then. I’ve always rooted for Travers and am not sure of that anymore.

George is being George. I don’t really see him any different than Carmody, Jardines, Arthur. 

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I believe Traver's spell over George has been broken.

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