STO'B 5-9: Captain Fitton

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“Douse that god-damned bell!” Philip hissed, but too late; the voices drifting over from the stranger were now raised in alarm, and Philip could make out individual words, meaningless to him but in a Spanish accent: toque, campana, barco.

Below Philip the rigging ceased creaking as Liddle reached the deck.  Did the Spanish stranger know where Philip was?  Was it still worth the extra time and confusion to go to quarters without the silently?

On the Spaniard, a drum began to beat urgently, and in the moonlight streaming over Philip’s shoulder he could see her crew tumble up from below deck.  “¿Que pasa?” Philip heard someone ask, then much louder, another voice, “¿Que barco está?”

He had seen enough.  Climbing over to the backstay, he rode it down to the deck, burning one of his hands in the process.  “Mr South, crews of the dismounted guns will reinforce those crews whose guns are intact.  Mr Wilkins, tell the gunner that subsequent rounds will be grape.

“Aye, sir” said the master, saluting and moving forward among the assembling men; “aye, captain,” said the midshipman, saluting and darting down the companion.

Around Philip the Badger came to life with less than her usual grace, her hands stupid and confused by the unaccustomed silence.  Philip clenched his fists and his jaw, urging his men on.

“¿Que barco?” asked the Spaniard again. “¿Donde está?”  And then the same voice, not as loud, “prepara los cañones,” and another voice, clearly panicked: “¡allí!  ¡Abajo de la luna!”

Luna.  Didn’t that mean moon?  Philip turned around: the moon was directly opposite the Spaniard; from the Spanish deck Badger must be sitting in the middle of the moon’s reflection.  “Mr South!  Beat to quarters!”

Author's Note|First Post|Previous|Next| last episode with Dr M’Mullen GLOSSARY