Odyssey - 47. Chapter 47

April 1798

Calcutta

Fort William was a busy place, what with energetic British officers like Wellesley, and Generals Harris and Baird, working hard to get their troops into crack condition. Some of the soldiers drilling on the parade grounds risked censure by staring up at a lone man standing on the parapet, wearing his blue dress uniform. The sun reflected off his gold lace and the glass he was looking through, making it appear as if he were glittering. George Granger was the man who was attracting all this attention, but he was oblivious to it as he surveyed the harbor in front of him. Calcutta teemed with ships of all shapes and sizes, yet the only ships that truly interested Granger were the four vessels that were sailing slowly into the harbor, with the obvious intention of mooring near the fort.

The lead ship was the HMS Suffolk (74), wearing a rear admiral’s flag. Suffolk was a typical British ship of the line, and despite being almost forty years old, she appeared to be in top condition, as one would expect of the flagship of the Commander-in-Chief of the East Indies Station. She was followed by the Warrior (50), one of those strange craft built at the beginning of the last war, in 1775, that was neither a frigate nor a ship of the line, but fell somewhere in between. The next ship aroused a significant emotional response in Granger, for she was a frigate. He looked at her longingly, wondering at the fate of his own ship, of Bacchante, and lamenting yet again that he had been separated from her. This frigate was the Orpheus (32), a smaller frigate carrying only 12-pounders. She resembled Granger’s prior command, Belvidera, more than Bacchante, but even Belvidera had been much more graceful, and had carried heavier armament. Trailing after the others like a duckling waddling after her mother, the Hobart (18) was the most graceful of the bunch. She was originally a French privateer, and was now commissioned as a sloop in the Royal Navy. She reminded Granger of his first command, HMS Intrepid, a ship he’d sailed to these very waters a little more than three years ago. He thought of what a beautiful ship she had been, and she reminded him of Calvert.

He climbed down the steps of the fort, and strode across the esplanade to the docks. It was inevitable that Rainier would come ashore to meet with Mornington and Granger could see Suffolk hoisting out the admiral’s barge even as she moved toward her anchorage. Granger expected that the admiral would come ashore quickly, but even after Suffolk anchored, it was almost an hour before Granger saw him stepping down into his barge. But Granger was determined not to let that distract him, for Rainier was the only man besides Mornington who could stand in the way of his plans to go back to England immediately. He was determined to make a good impression so Rainier would be more disposed to agreeing to his plan.

Granger watched without staring as the boat approached and tied up to the dock. The admiral stepped out of his barge, which was not easy for him to do. He was a rotund man in his late 50s, with a round face that looked like it might, from time to time, even look jolly. Granger stepped forward to meet him. “Welcome to Calcutta, sir. I’m George Granger,” he said, doffing his hat.

Rear Admiral Peter Rainier

“So you’re Granger, eh? I’ve heard much about you.” It was a slightly disrespectful attitude, but Granger recognized Rainier’s more relaxed style, which was probably useful for a command in the Indies. He’d omitted the honorific of ‘my lord’, which was either a blatant insult, or a sign that he had not yet heard of Granger’s peerage. Granger preferred to believe the latter, and resolved to mention it to Rainier later.

“I hope that it was good, sir,” Granger said.

“Most of it,” he said. “What brings you out here? Do you not have a ship?”

They entered the carriage Mornington had sent for the admiral. “I was separated from my command in Amboyna. My ship, the Bacchante, was sent home, but I was too ill with the fever to sail with her.” Granger tried to keep the agony he felt out of his voice, the distress at being separated from his ship.

Granger guessed Rainier would understand that, and he was right. He studied Granger, and must have seen the residual signs of that malaise in his face. “That damnable disease is dangerous. Glad you survived.”

“Thank you, sir,” Granger responded, giving Rainier his charming smile, and was glad to see it had some effect. “I took passage here in a company sloop as soon as I could, and am planning to return to England by way of the Levant.”

“That is a difficult journey, but you do not have to make it. I am confident that we can find you passage on board a ship home in the near future, and while you are here, I can find a use for your talents.”

That was really quite flattering. “Thank you, sir. I fear that my reason for returning to England requires that I get there as quickly as possible, which is why I had resigned myself to make that trek.”

“What reasons do you have for returning to England so quickly?” Rainier asked. Inconveniently enough, they arrived at Government House at that moment.

“Perhaps I can explain that once we get inside, sir?” Rainier nodded and preceded Granger into that big building. Once inside, they were led back to Mornington’s study.

“Good afternoon, Admiral,” Mornington said. “I see Granger managed to retrieve you.”

“He did, my lord,” Rainier said. “And he was just about to tell me what was so damned important for him to traverse the desert to return to England.”

“I have not yet had a chance to brief Admiral Rainier on my mission,” Granger said to Mornington. Granger recounted his entire voyage, starting with his orders from the Privy Council, his adventures at Valdivia, his capture of the Santa Clarita, his elimination of the French privateers, and their destruction of the San Augustin.

“You captured a frigate, manned her, and then destroyed a ship of the line with just your two frigates?” Rainier asked, duly impressed. “I suppose San Augustin was one of their old, worm-eaten 64s.”

“Actually, sir, the San Augustin was less than ten years old,” Granger admitted. He saw something in Rainier’s eyes he hadn’t expected to see: admiration. Even Mornington seemed impressed. Granger went on to delineate their capture of stores at Guayaquil, and his capture of the San Fernando.

“You captured a galleon?” Rainier gasped. Mornington looked at him coldly, because Granger hadn’t told Mornington all of the details of his voyage. Granger actually gave Mornington an apologetic look, as he felt genuinely guilty for not giving the man a more thorough report. He had never made an omission like that before. He salved his conscience by telling himself that had Mornington been more pleasant, he may have been more inclined to communicate with him.

“We were able to acquire one million reals in the process, sir,” Granger said. “When we captured her, she had half a million reals on board. The Viceroy approached me and offered to buy her back from me for an additional half a million reals, money which would be payable if we were to deliver her to Manila.”

Rainier eyed him carefully. “So they basically bribed you to escort the galleon to Manila?”

“It may appear that way, sir,” Granger said with a grin. “In any event, it worked out well for all parties. They weren’t going to sail while we blockaded the port and my orders did not give me the flexibility to remain off Callao for an extended period of time. Even if we had, it was quite possible that while we waited out of sight, she could have slipped past us.”

“Ingenious,” Mornington said, and was a little more pleasant now, knowing that Granger was not just rich, but fabulously wealthy. Granger smiled at him too, despite his less than charitable musings about Mornington’s evident appreciation of wealth over glory. Granger then proceeded to describe the rest of the voyage, including his bout with the fever, and Bacchante’s dispatch to carry Maidstone back to England.

“I have not met Sir Tobias Maidstone personally, but I am aware of his reputation,” Rainier said.

“I have deemed it vital that Lord Granger be dispatched back to England at once, in order to try and arrive before Bacchante,” Mornington said imperiously.

“Lord Granger?” Rainier asked. “I did not realize you had been advanced to the peerage.”

“I have, sir. I was made a viscount prior to my departure.”

“Well then, congratulations, my lord,” Rainier said. Granger knew that many officers would be jealous of the award of his peerage, especially senior officers, but was pleased to see that it didn’t seem to bother Rainier at all. “I still have not heard the reason for your return to England with such haste.” That irked Mornington, who clearly expected that his directive would have been sufficient. Clearly Mornington was concerned that Rainier would not be sympathetic to the government, and to the position this would put them in, but Granger didn’t think that was a very big risk. Rainier was known to be a decent sort, and well-connected politically. He was not from a great aristocratic household, but was related to local magistrates in Kent, and his family was closely tied to Sir Phillip Stephens, the Secretary to Their Lordships of the Admiralty, a very influential man indeed. It would not be in Rainier’s best interest to cause problems for Stephens, his benefactor.

“Sir Tobias absconded with my brother’s correspondence, sir,” Granger said, and went on to explain that the contents would be damaging to the government. Rainier didn’t seem overly concerned, or convinced.

Mornington picked up on that and augmented Granger’s conclusion. “I have some familiarity with these letters, and I think that Granger discounts the potential damage they could cause.”

Rainier nodded, and then spoke to Granger. “Well, my lord, you have always provided me with entertaining reading with your reports that are published in the Gazette, so I shouldn’t be surprised when you come up with something just as intricate as this. It would have been nice to have you out here, where I could certainly use a talented captain like you, but I will do nothing to hinder your journey. On the contrary, you should advise me if there is anything I can do to help you.”

Granger smiled at Rainier, to acknowledge his kind words, which were quite flattering, but also with the happiness that Rainier would let him proceed unhindered. “Thank you, sir.”

“Now that we have Granger out of the way, I would like to discuss our upcoming operations against Tipu Sultan,” Mornington said. “I have invited your military compatriots to dinner. Perhaps you would be willing to join us at 1:00? That will give you a chance to bring any officers you may want to involve.”

“Then I will return to the Suffolk and assemble my staff, my lord,” Rainier said. “Lord Granger, it would please me if you would accompany me.”

“With pleasure, sir,” Granger said. They strode out of the house, and in no time at all they were in the admiral’s barge heading for Suffolk.

“I am surprised you did not leave your brother in place at Amboyna, my lord,” Rainier said.

“I felt that with all of the controversy surrounding his recall, it would be prudent to have him removed, sir,” Granger responded. “As it turned out, John Company has need of his services here in Calcutta.”

“I can’t imagine what kind of scheme they’ve dreamed up this time,” Rainier groused, staring at the sky.

“I find it is easier to remain ignorant of John Company’s operations, especially those my brother is involved in,” Granger said, getting a chuckle from Rainier.

“I suppose it is.” They arrived at Suffolk, and Granger found it exhilarating to be back aboard a warship again. It was so familiar, and so comfortable. It was also short-lived. He spent the rest of the afternoon at Government House listening to Mornington, along with the military and naval officers he’d summoned, plan out the basics of their campaign against Tipu Sultan. Wellesley was being given command of the army from Hyderabad, and truly impressed Granger with his detailed plans and his progress in preparing for their assault. He’d exchanged glances with the Colonel throughout the meeting, and resolved to find time for a quick tryst, at least.

Granger walked out of the meeting to find Jardines waiting for him. He had to steel himself to be polite and cordial. “My lord, I was hoping to catch you.”

“And you have indeed found me,” Granger said.

Jardines grinned slightly. “I have spoken with Captain Raymond, and have made preparations to leave tomorrow on the morning tide.”

“What time is that?” Granger asked.

“It is about an hour after dawn, my lord,” Jardines told him.

“Very well. I will stay ashore tonight, and then join you aboard Sultan shortly after dawn,” Granger said. Jardines nodded, then left, and when Granger turned around to go back and find Wellesley, he instead found him standing right in front of him. “It appears I am to leave tomorrow on the morning tide.”

“That is good news for you, my lord, but bad news for the rest of us who have grown to enjoy your presence,” Wellesley said in his formal way.

“You are charming as well, Colonel,” Granger said with a smile. “Perhaps you would like to keep my company while I pack up my things?”

“It would be my pleasure,” he said, and followed Granger upstairs. Winkler was there, bustling around, but he left as soon as Granger and Wellesley arrived. “Will he suspect something?” Wellesley asked nervously.

“Winkler?” Granger asked, surprised. But he knew and trusted Winkler completely, while Wellesley did not know that. “He is safe.” Wellesley wanted to ask why, wanted to probe more, but seemed to realize that would border on offending Granger. In the end, he chose to accept Granger’s word, and with that irritant gone, his libido soared, as did his passion, as he took Granger on a long and energetic fuck. After they were done, Granger lay there, smiling and panting, while Arthur looked at him with the same visage, only he was panting even harder.

“You are truly wonderful at that,” Arthur said, making Granger laugh.

“I am glad you appreciate my talents,” Granger said. “I’m sure you can tell that I appreciate yours.”

“That was somewhat easy to deduce,” he said. “I am not sure when I will return to England, but I hope you will not find me unwelcome should I come to call on you.”

“You are always welcome to visit, and I will return the favor, if that meets with your approval?”

“It does,” he said. And then he took his leave, saying goodbye in a frigid manner, but Granger was starting to understand him. He had a surface that was tough, a hard shell that let little out and even less in, but beneath it was a caring man, probably one so caring that it matched in intensity the rigid exterior most people only got to see. They exchanged one last kiss, and then he was gone.

For supper that night, Granger opted to spend it with his brother. Bertie had evidently found a small palace to serve as his home, or at least it seemed that way. As he was just moving in, things were not as settled as would probably be the norm, but that didn’t bother either of them. They enjoyed a nice meal, and then sat in the study smoking cigars.

“I worry about you making this trip, George,” Bertie said.

“I am confident that I will be fine,” Granger said.

“You say that as if you have some control over things,” Bertie said. “You have survived the fever, but it could resurrect itself. And the Berbers do hate you so. Is there no way for me to dissuade you? We can surely send someone else.”

“I have come this far, and I am not going to back out now,” Granger said firmly, then softened. Bertie was only saying these things because he cared about Granger. “I had a premonition before my fever that something bad was going to happen. It was almost like I could feel it. I have the same kind of feeling now, only it is a good feeling, a good sign. I think this will turn out alright in the end. And I know I am taking the right course of action, so that is further validating.”

“I haven’t had a chance to thank you, and Caroline, for intervening to protect my interests last year,” Bertie said. Granger pondered that he’d spent most of his voyage to India either sleeping, in an effort to recover from the fever, or fucking Chartley. He had not had a chance to have an extended private conversation with Bertie about that issue.

“And I have not had a chance to tell you of my homecoming, and how that played out,” Granger said. “I assumed Chartley filled you in on things?”

“He did,” Bertie said. “He even confided in me and told me of your experience when you visited our brother and his wife in Portsmouth. That woman is truly evil. And there are so many other women that would be preferable to her.”

“I think almost any woman would be preferable to her,” Granger joked. “Did he tell you why she did it?”

Bertie nodded. “That explains why Freddie was always an uptight sod. I would think you would be his favorite person, after having gotten his dick fixed.”

Granger laughed. “He seemed much happier afterward, but I am not sure either he or his wife has much room in their hearts for gratitude.”

“And that is a shame. It is a crime I will not commit. I owe you George, and I owe Caroline too. I would do anything I could for you, you know that.”

“I know that, Bertie. And you would have done that even before we assisted you last year.” Bertie positively beamed at being appreciated. “I fear I must go and ready myself for my voyage.”

“I hope you are not vexed at Chartley for not going with you,” Bertie said, halting Granger’s attempt to leave. Granger eyed him with some trepidation, since he knew that some years before, Bertie had fucked Chartley, just the one time. He was worried that their friendship was not entirely platonic, and when Bertie spoke for Chartley, implying a heightened level of intimacy, that concerned Granger.

“I am not. I am sure he has good reasons for going, but I would have enjoyed his company.”

“Because you love him,” Bertie said. Granger stared at him in shock. “And he loves you.”

Bertie said nothing; he just waited for Granger to answer. “Yes.”

“Only someone very close to you and Chartley would have been able to discern your feelings,” Bertie said, putting Granger’s mind at ease about that. “In a way, I am disappointed that I do not share your predilection for other men.”

“Indeed?”

“Chartley is a good man, and has been a good friend to me. My best friend, in fact. We make a good team when it comes to commerce, because while I am unscrupulous, he is much more principled.” Granger laughed at that.

“So you are disappointed that you don’t like to have sex with men because that means you two cannot be intimate?”

“I love him that much,” Bertie said. “So much that I even tried once. But it was to no avail.” Granger was impressed that Bertie trusted Granger enough to tell him of the one encounter he’d had with Chartley. Chartley had been confused by it, wondering why it had never been repeated. Bertie had given Granger the answer: he simply wasn’t attracted to men.

“I have tried it much more than one time, and I am never disappointed,” Granger joked, making Bertie really laugh.

“He did not make this trip because he does not love you,” Bertie said. “He made this trip because he knows that this trip, dealing with the hongs in Canton, will enable him to return to England and never worry about money again. He is a wealthy man, but this will assure him that he will remain that way. Unless, of course, he falls into those same ruts that ruin most men: wine, women, and gambling.”

“I assumed it was something along those lines,” Granger said, although he still felt a little put-off. He was being abandoned for money, and questioned himself as to whether that made him a whore. Or more likely, inadequate. Chartley’s love for him was not as important as money, which was the bottom line. Granger decided he was being petulant, and put those thoughts aside. “I will tell Mother and Father you sent your regards.”

“Tell them both that I love them very much. With this new adventure I’m embarking on, I am skeptical that I will return to England. I suspect I will never see London again, and that means I am unlikely to see them again.” Granger nodded, and watched, stunned, as a tear actually fell down his cheek. “You are the only one whom I may have the good fortune to see again. If they send you back out here, I hope you will look forward to it. I know I will.”

Granger gave Bertie a big hug, a hug that lasted a long time, something neither of them was used to, but it seemed such a perfect gesture. “You are the only reason I would come back to this God-forsaken, pestilent place.”

“Next time you visit I will assemble a harem of handsome young men with big cocks,” Bertie said. “That is perhaps more tangible than merely visiting me.”

Granger laughed. “It is not, but it has some allure.” They hugged one last time, and then said their goodbyes, both of them wondering if this would be the final time they’d see each other.

May 1, 1798

Calcutta

Granger descended the stairs of Government House and headed for the dining room, leaving a flurry of activity in his wake. Winkler, Jacobs, and the Government House staff would be frantically packing up the last of his things and sending them down to Sultan, while also making sure that the provisions he’d ordered were sent on board. Granger’s mind was not on those things, since he knew he could rely on Winkler and Jacobs, his mind was on taking his leave of this place and continuing his journey.

“Good morning, Granger,” Mornington said affably. Granger reasoned that he was probably being nice because Granger was actually leaving, and was glad to be rid of him.

“Good morning,” he responded cheerfully.

“My brother asked me to extend his apologies. He was unable to come over this morning and see you off.” Granger actually found that quite flattering, since he surmised that Wellesley would find such a parting to be too emotional for him to handle in public.

“That is quite alright. I am in his debt for being such charming company while I have been here.”

“I was able to dispatch the messenger to Aleppo yesterday,” Mornington said. “There was a vessel bound for Baghdad, or its environs in any event, so I put him aboard. Hopefully if you are delayed, he will be able to make it.”

“I think it is a very wise move to have multiple messengers,” Granger said. “I applaud your efficiency in dispatching him so soon.”

“We are all of us anxious to see Bertie’s letters returned to him, or destroyed,” Mornington said. He hesitated, as if deciding whether to go on, and then continued. “I do not want to give you the impression that there are heinous and illegal acts that these letters would disclose.”

“Where my brother is involved, I am unwilling to discount either one of those possibilities,” Granger said with a smile, actually getting a smile in return from Mornington.

“Quite so. We must find a solution to our trade imbalance, as that will eliminate the need for much of this somewhat underhanded trade.”

“I try hard to avoid the world of trade and commerce,” Granger said, annoying Mornington by insinuating he thrived in it. “I choose to bury my head in the sand, unless it is forcibly ripped out of the ground.”

“Probably a wise move,” he said. Granger stood to leave, and Mornington rose as well. “A good voyage to you. Perhaps in a few years, I will see you back in London.”

“I should think that is most likely,” Granger said pleasantly. “I truly hope that is the case. When you return, I hope you will do me the honor of calling on me.”

“I will do that,” Mornington said, and for once seemed to put his arrogant posture aside. Granger departed, finding Winkler and Jacobs loading up the carriage. They finished and preceded him into the vehicle, which took off smartly for the docks.

“This should be quite a trek,” Granger mused to them.

“Aye, my lord, but we’ll make the best of it,” Winkler said philosophically. They got to the dock and started to unload his baggage into the boat. Granger alit and was surprised to see that familiar red uniform.

“Colonel,” he said to Wellesley cheerfully. “I heard you were indisposed, and unable to see me off.”

“Rather, I didn’t want to send you off in the presence of my brother,” he said somberly. The two of them walked far enough away from the others so they couldn’t be heard. “I have truly enjoyed our time together.”

“As have I,” Granger said. “You have been the highlight of my journey so far.” Wellesley blushed, which was incredibly cute.

“You have been my highlight, period.”

“I am hoping you can thrash this Tipu chap and hurry back to England with laurels and riches,” Granger said.

“I am optimistic that is exactly what will happen,” Wellesley said, making both of them chuckle. “Be careful. This is a dangerous journey, and even more so for you, since the Berbers hate you.”

“Which is a surprise to me, since I am usually so charming and likeable,” Granger said.

“Yes, but you took their ruby and destroyed their fleet. I think even the most forgiving man would find that hard to overlook.”

“Perhaps you are right,” Granger said. “You must also take care of yourself. I suspect that these men you will fight will find your perfectly pressed uniform jacket to be a wonderful target.”

“Perhaps,” he said, mimicking Granger. “But they’re not very good shots.” They chuckled again, then the mood got somber. “I will miss you George.”

“And I will miss you, Arthur.” Granger took Wellesley’s hands in his, feeling the emotions flow through their fingers, then he let go, severing the connection, and turned to board the boat. Halfway to the craft, Granger had to pause and look away, then use his hand to wipe away a tear, hoping that no one else would see him.

“Boat’s loaded, my lord,” Winkler said, bringing Granger back to the task at hand. Granger nodded, instructing Winkler to precede him into the craft. The boat pulled slowly toward the Sultan, with Granger studying her carefully. There were a number of boats around her, presumably loading up last-minute stores and the like. His boat slid up to the main chains, and Granger had but to grab them and pull himself up the short distance to Sultan’s main deck.

“Welcome aboard, my lord,” Raymond said. “At least on this voyage, you will have your own cabin.” Granger tried not to let that sadden him, the fact that he wouldn’t be sharing with Chartley this time.

“I may have to have Winkler sleep on the deck and snore like Lord Chartley, so it is familiar enough that I may fall asleep,” Granger said, getting a predictable chuckle from Raymond. “Has Major Jardines come aboard yet.”

“He has not, my lord,” Raymond said.

“How long until the tide turns?” Granger asked.

“Half an hour, my lord,” he said. Granger tried to hide his frustration, but was unsuccessful when he saw the same expression on Raymond’s face.

“We will have to hope he manages to arrive soon,” Granger said.

“His things have been sent out, but he travels quite light, my lord.”

Granger stood on deck, immobile, hiding his anger. Jardines had been late arriving to Calcutta, and now he was late boarding the ship. Granger knew that if Jardines arrived a little after the tide changed it would make no great difference, but his ingrained sense of urgency rebelled at tardiness. Not only that, it was rude. Granger stood there, fuming, while expending a considerable amount of effort to make sure no one saw him fuming.

“The tide has turned, my lord,” Raymond said. And at just that moment, Jardines hauled himself aboard. “With your permission, my lord, I will get us underway.”

“Time is of the essence,” Granger said to him, even as he frowned at Jardines. “Even if some are unaware of that.” Jardines gave Granger an apologetic look, which Granger ignored. He wondered if he’d be able to make it to Egypt without killing this man.