Read Online A Ship for The King by Richard Woodman - Free Book Online Page A

thorough-going sailor.
    Word reached them one morning that the Earl of Rutland would come off to the ship that day and orders were passed for his barge to be prepared. Brenton was to go in it and embark the admiral whom Faulkner by now knew was a court appointee and no seaman. Under such a titular head, all depended upon Mainwaring and his officers, of whom several others were courtiers or soldiers, rather than men bred to the sea.
    At last word was passed to the ship’s company to stand by to receive the admiral and men ran to their preordained posts and an unnatural stillness descended upon the ship. Those on the upper decks could see the approaching barge, its oars rising and falling, the blades flashing in the sunshine, astern of which came a procession of wherries piled with baggage, and another boat with an ornate canopy over the stern.
    â€˜We shall need a chair and a whip at the mainyard, Mr Slessor,’ Mainwaring called to the first lieutenant, indicating the presence of ladies in the Earl of Rutland’s entourage.
    â€˜It won’t be just the Earl and his suite who join us today,’ Brenton had remarked earlier that morning as they were advised of the admiral’s coming while they were shaving and Adams was dressing their hair. ‘There will be a number of courtiers come to provide a fitting welcome for the Prince of Wales and the Duke of Buckingham and that, my dear Kit, is why you and I have to live like rabbits in this hutch.’
    The two officers were obliged to share a cabin intended for one for, although the Prince Royal had been built as a flagship and thus carried accommodation for an admiral and his staff, the numerous suites of those considered indispensable to the reception of the Prince of Wales and the Duke of Buckingham almost beggared belief. ‘We have to remember,’ Brenton had remarked as they sat over a glass of wine the previous evening, ‘that besides being the King’s favourite, My Lord of Muckingham is the Lord High Admiral and therefore his flag will take precedence over Rutland’s.’
    â€˜Muckingham . . . ?’ queried Faulkner.
    â€˜â€™Tis my name for him,’ Brenton said, lowering his voice, ‘though I shall be hanged yet for saying so . . .’
    â€˜Then why say it?’
    â€˜Because, my dear innocent Kit, I abhor what he is and what he stands for. He is not merely venal to the point of stinking corruption, but is also the King’s catamite.’ Faulkner stared, puzzled. ‘You do not know what a catamite is?’ Faulkner shook his head and Brenton reduced his voice to a whisper. ‘Why, the King’s creature; he who lies with the King for the purposes of carnal lust . . . sodomy . . . buggery . . .’
    â€˜I know what sodomy is,’ Faulkner hissed, ‘and I know that such indiscretions aboard a ship such as this may indeed lead you to the gallows, or a slow disembowelling . . .’
    Brenton grinned with an insouciance that Faulkner found profoundly unnerving. Although there was a difference in rank between them, they were of the same age and the previous fortnight had cast them as friends. Nevertheless, Faulkner was compelled to acknowledge the other’s more sophisticated worldliness. ‘Why, ’tis spoken of everywhere,’ Brenton said.
    â€˜But perhaps not so loudly here when the ship is full of courtiers,’ Faulkner remarked.
    â€˜Indeed not, but tonight it is full of honest Jacks and I take thee for an honest Jack, Kit Faulkner.’
    â€˜Indeed, I hope you do, and now, before you preach more sedition I think we ought to get some rest . . .’ And so they had turned in, though Faulkner had lain awake long after the snores of the foolhardy young Brenton filled the stale air and the great ship creaked and groaned about him as she swum, straining to her anchor and cable in the tide.
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