angry roar of the sea and wind enclosed the staggering berth deck with noise.
Ferguson looked up, his eyes bright and feverish. âI did it.â
Evans leaned his narrow shoulders against the massive trunk of the foremast which ran right through both decks and said, ââI did it, sir. ââ
Ferguson mumbled something and then added, âSorry, sir.â
Allday said coldly, âIt was an accident, Mr Evans. Just an accident.â
âFood is food.â Evansâs Welsh accent became more pronounced as his face became angrier. âI cannot hope to keep you men in good health if you waste such excellent meat, now can I?â
Those grouped around the table stared down at the shapeless hunk of rancid beef as it lay gleaming in a patch of lamplight.
Evans added sharply, âNow, you, whatever your bloody name is, eat it! â
Ferguson stared down at the meat, his mind swimming in nausea. The deck was discoloured with water and stained with droppings from the tilting table. There was vomit too, perhaps his own.
Evans said gently, âI am waiting, boyo. One more minute and Iâll take you aft. A touch of the cat might teach you some appreciation!â
Ferguson dropped to his knees and picked up the meat. As he lifted it to his mouth Betts pushed forward and tore it from his hands and threw it straight at Evans. âTake it yourself, you bloody devil! Leave him alone!â
For a moment Evans showed the fear in his dark eyes. The men had crowded around him, their bodies rising and falling like a human tide with each roll of the ship. He could feel the menace, the sudden ice touch of terror.
Another voice cut through the shadows. âStand aside!â Midshipman Farquhar had to stoop beneath the low beams, but his eyes were steady and bright as they settled on the frozen tableau around the end table. Farquharâs approach had been so stealthy and quiet that not even the men at the opposite end of the deck had noticed him. He snapped, âI am waiting. What is going on here?â
Evans thrust the nearest men aside and threw himself to Farquharâs side. With his hand shaking in both fear and fury he pointed at Betts. âHe struck me! Me, a warrant officer!â
Farquhar was expressionless. His tight lips and cold stare might have meant either amusement or anger. âVery well, Mr Evans. Kindly lay aft for the master-at-arms.â
As the purser scurried away Farquhar looked round the circle of faces with open contempt. âYou never seem to learn, do you?â He turned to Betts, who still stood staring at the meat, his chest heaving as if from tremendous exertion. âYou are a fool, Betts! Now you will pay for it!â
Allday pressed his shoulders against the frigateâs cold, wet timbers and closed his eyes. It was all happening just as he knew it would. He listened to Bettsâs uneven breathing and Fergusonâs quiet whimpers and felt sick. He thought suddenly of the quiet hillsides and the grey bunches of sheep. The space and the solitude.
Then Farquhar barked, âTake him away, Mr Thain.â
The master-at-arms pushed Betts towards the hatch ladder adding softly, âNot a single flogging since we left Falmouth. I knew such gentleness was a bad mistake!â
Richard Bolitho leaned his palms on the sill of one of the big stern windows and stared out along the shipâs frothing wake. Although the cabin itself was already in semi-darkness as the frigate followed the sun towards the horizon, the sea still looked alive, with only a hint of purple as a warning of the approaching night.
Reflected in the salt-speckled glass he could see Vibartâs tall shape in the centre of the cabin, his face shadowed beneath the corkscrewing lantern, and behind him against the screen the slim figure of Midshipman Farquhar.
It took most of his self-control to keep himself immobile and calm as he considered what Farquhar had burst in to tell
Kathleen Brooks
Alyssa Ezra
Josephine Hart
Clara Benson
Christine Wenger
Lynne Barron
Dakota Lake
Rainer Maria Rilke
Alta Hensley
Nikki Godwin