Message:Friends! I thank you for the kind welcome. My dear, I thank you for the rum. Shall I regale you all with another tale? So be it. I’ll tell you of a journey into unknown waters to meet unknown people far away from Europe. Oh, my friends, the world is so much vaster than you could imagine…
In Naples there was assembled the finest, most elite crew of sailors ever to take to the deep. Their officers were rumored to be the wisest in Europe. Of course, I was a member of said crew.
Ah, you laugh L’Reynard? Is that wise? You have but one eye left!
Also among the fine band of sailors were names you should all know well by now. The noble Berge du Destin, brave Gilbert Durand, lucky Reginald Willoughby, fearsome Toppo, and mysterious P Cae as well as the savage Wildemoon twins, flamboyant Captain Nathaniel Mayweather - with his “sherpa du chapeau,” a beautiful, if intense boy named Yonten - and the detestable Alastor du Sang were among the crew. The mission was to open trade with a mysterious foreign power, and here my fellows from our days aboard the “Loyal Bernard,” had an advantage. During the voyage where we traveled past exotic Burma to the Infidel lands we had encountered, fought and defeated a strange race of man called “Koreans.” It seemed likely these Koreans were the same seagoing power we sought.
“Be cordial ambassadors of the Faith,” we were told, The only trouble was this expedition was financed by the Italians of Naples.
It was Cae who suggested we cautiously infiltrate the officers, take control of the vessel and steer the alliance, trade and profits to the Glory of France! Yes, friends, well might you cheer for our glorious King! “Be cagey,” Cae said, “the finest men will not easily mutiny for mere gold and glory. We’ll bide our time, make allies, become important, and travel the world. As long as we don’t fall off the edge, when the time is right we’ll make our move.”
In Naples we boarded a vessel for Palermo - where we would join the rest of the crew - which the enthusiastic Mayweather dubbed “Lady Catherine Triumphant.” “It would be a triumph if she didn’t sink,” du Sang muttered. The jaunt along the coast was as one could wish. The closest thing to an obstacle was a passing diplomatic vessel. They came aboard peacefully, but tried to discourage us from joining the mission. The diplomats, despite their smiles, were arrogant men, and looked down on those of “common birth.” Mayweather, a gentrified man, tried to claim Alastor du Sang as a member of his family. I believe Mayweather meant it as a kindness. Du Sang looked as if he’d rather hurl himself to the sharks. What, my dear? When will those two marry? You’re so wicked!
Some of the other crew were somewhat furtive, and, as we sailed we eventually discovered a pamphlet being passed from swab to swab. Perhaps you’ve heard of the “Declaration of Liberation from Tyranny,” and it’s twelve signatories? Archbishop Bremen, Bakker Vande, Baron Christian James IV of England, Bjorn Baat, Docteur Michel Roux, Goran Posse, Jansen van Jacobs, Kezban, Martin Dubois, Monsieur Martin Jeanne and Schmitt Muller? Ah, I see some of you know at least a few of those names! Beware, friends, for it’s not wise to admit to knowing of heretics and traitors…
“Present company excepted, of course?” Ah, le Sal, you rogue! You can apologize by getting the next round, my friend!
Again, it was Cae who formed the plan. Somehow the man had obtained copies of the mission charter. “These same twelve will be our officers,” he confided with a gleam in his eye. “They seek to escape justice at sea. Once we figure out which is which we can blackmail them into supporting our plot.” Mayweather and Wildemoon held onto copies of the pamphlet. A dangerous game, for our Captain might execute any caught with such blasphemous text, and a false accusation at seas could lead to irons, flogging or worse!
Thus prepared we arrived in Palermo and joined the rest of the expedition. While in port preparing to depart,I chose to blend in with the crew while others began our inquiries. Toppo spoke to the ship’s Pasteur who proudly claimed to be the only truly religious man aboard. Mayweather feigned a headache and the Navigator created a tonic. The Quartermaster proved to be the only Norseman in the crew, while the Master Couteau proved to be a Frenchman. Puzzle pieces started to fall into place….
That first night, Paul Wildemoon took the Pasteur aside and informed him we knew he was really the Archbishop Bremen. The abashed man begged Wildemoon to keep silent, offered any favor in return for secrecy and even stepped down as Pasteur - appointing the gruff WIldemoon in his stead!
We weren’t the only ones in Naples engaged in skullduggery, friends! Guido Rivera, Marshal of Naples, had taken an interest in our band. Most of us were at our labors on the dock, while Lord du Destin, Paul Wildemoon, Toppo, du Sang, Cae, Willoughby, and Mayweather were in port purchasing supplies. While ashore they were accosted by Rivera’s agents. Wildemoon slew one, du Destin incapacitated the rest. In the possessions of the agents was an image of the Lord and a letter promising a thousand doubloons to the man who provided the head of “Lord Berge du Destin, aka, ‘Bahadur Shah, Heir to Khan Jahangir.’”
“Uneasy lies the Heir who will wear the crown?” Ah, Bill, you’re a true wit!
Still, there’s truth in what you’ve said. Rivera’s men were only the first. As Lord du Destin and company returned to the dock they were swarmed by a veritable mob of mounted men. Wildemoon pulled the mob’s leader from his horse and left him sleeping on the cobblestones. Mayweather offered the “sailors of the Lady Catherine Triumphant” gold to protect their crew-mate while Lord du Destin, himself, spoke of loyalty and brotherhood. Thus inspired the group quickly dispatched the assailants.
That wasn’t the only obstacle. Just outside the docks the returning crew were stopped by some minor government functionary. The busybody accused the party of distributing the treasonous “Declaration of Tyranny.” Cae, Wildemoon, Toppo, Mayweather and Willoughby played the fool long enough to where the official failed to notice Lord du Destin slipping behind his with a dagger.
The problem with disposing of a functionary is his superiors will, eventually, wonder where he went. Toppo was the one the constables sought, and, surprisingly, Toppo went along to the Magistrate’s without complaint. He was absolved of wrongdoing, but made a foe of Albert Fredrick of Danzing. Yes, my dear, the famed pugilist! And Toppo’s sin was insisting to the right-handed Frederick the “World’s Greatest Pugilist” is left-handed. “Like so!” Toppo said to us later as he took a right-handed stance. Yes, friends, that day we learned that Toppo - brave, loyal, and dull - literally didn’t know his left from his right.
Despite all this, our efforts to infiltrate the officer corps continued to bear fruit. Toppo took over the post of Navigator from the unmasked Michel Roux, du Sang the post of Quartermaster from the revealed Bjorn Baat. Willoughby discovered the ship’s Pilot was Bakker Vande, but it was Lord du Destin who delivered the ultimatum and took over the post. Mayweather attempted to speak to the Captain of our vessel, “Captain to Captain,” and was coldly refused. Du Sang called Mayweather a fool and reminded him one should never directly confront a Captain on his own ship. The last laugh was Mayweather’s, however… For the Captain also felt it was his place to discipline his own crew and, when he caught wind of du Sang’s taunts, he removed du Sang from the Quartermaster’s position and instilled Mayweather! I tell you, friends, it was comic to watch du Sang’s face darken and sputter as he struggled to hold in his ire. Du Sang failed to control his tongue. After a loud and profane rant du Sang found himself clapped in iron and thrown in the brig to “rest for the evening.”
Ah, but the port of Palermo remained a dangerous place!. No one was certain if it was merely a press gang, from another vessel, or a gang of bounty hunters, but, as Mayweather led a party ashore to finish purchasing supplies, they were, again, attacked. Again, the group were victorious
And then we heard the news. Khan Jahangir, the century-old Emperor of the Mughal Empire had passed away and the land was in turmoil in the absence of Khan Bahadur. Lord du Destin was resigned upon hearing the news. We gathered for a last night of food, drink and debauch. In the morning, Lord du Destin chartered a vessel south for Indus and his throne. Cae and du Sang joined him. Cae and du Sang are both men who seek to advantage themself in every situation, but, to take advantage of whatever friendship they might have with the new Emperor, the Emperor would need to be safe upon the throne. Two dangerous, self-interested men, in this case, would be a more dangerous bodyguard than the most fervent believer.
My friends, I believe this calls for a toast! Monsieur Thénardier, a round of rum for all! To Lord Berge du Destin, the Khan Bahadur, Emperor of the Indus and the Mughals, the first of his name! May his reign be long, and his memory of his friends longer!
Yes, L’Reynard, I do count myself among those friends. Have you listened to these tales?
Ah, of course when we took our vessel out for sounding we were beset by pyrates. They, like so many others sought the Emperor. Mayweather broke the news that the Emperor had already departed to claim his throne. Oh, say it with me, Bill… “Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown!”
What my dear? When do I come into the story? Not to be humble, but I had, until that point, engaged in an undramatic, but important task. I had spent my time making friends with the sailors and telling the tales of our travels, so that, once we had insinuated ourselves into the officer’s roles, the crew would have affection and loyalty for our band! One should never plot to replace a Captain without first earning the goodwill of the crew, n’est-ce pas?
Final preparations were made before we set for sea. The Captain made our band “prove our worth” as officers before departing. Toppo was moved into the Quartermaster’s role and located twenty-five unmounted falconettes. He also took it upon himself to take confession from the crew. Some forty dulled cutlasses were handed over. Toppo also painted the bowsprit into a mighty (and overly buxom) Valkyrie. Mayweather nodded in approval and avowed “Lady Catherine never looked as radiant.”
Mayweather, followed as always by Yonten, took the role of Fleet’s Chronicler. His inspections of hull and sails revealed all to be tight and seaworthy, and his skills with medicine were used to prepare in advance draughts to stave off seasickness. Yonten also proved capable. The slim lad’s explorations of nooks and crannies of the hold turned up mislabeled chests of peppercorns.
Willoughby stepped in as Master of Arms. His inspections of the armory first came up short - and some thirty five fine pistols and twenty five rusting muskets were retrieved from the sailors. Willoughby also discovered five bolts of flaxen linen - not of sail quality, but still of use.
Paul Wildemoon assumed the Navigator’s station, while Paxton was placed in charge of the sixteen warhorses aboard. Paul’s inspections of the water casks showed are stores were tightly sealed. Moreover the twins were able to remove two tons of rock salt from our hold after demonstrating to the captain how one could condense salt from seawater with little more than a kettle.
Gilbert Durand attempted to ferret out any traitors among the crew. A valiant, if wasted effort. As I said, this was the most elite crew ever assembled! He did locate five cases of a fine Bullingdon Bordeaux. Durand attempted to change the locks or all compartments and lockers, but despite the his best efforts (aided by one of the WIldemoons), he only got as far as removing said locks. It was a good thing we had such an elite crew, eh? Durand did procure wheels and carriages for the falconettes, and procured four demiculverine cannon.
My own efforts were mixed.I tried to obtain a variety of trinkets and beads as cheap trade goods, but my normal suppliers had run dry. I did obtain a half-ton of copper ingots. My efforts to drill the crew into readiness were gently rebuffed… I had succeeded too well in my efforts to make friends. As yet the sailors regarded me as a peer, not a superior. I shudder to say so, but there are things I could learn from Alastor du Sang - the wretch did have an iron hand when it came to discipline. My dear, I know you love me for my kinds heart, but, at sea, sometimes one must be…stern, shall we say?
Finally, we were ready to leave Palermo, but not before a second vessel was added to the expedition. The ungainly cog was promptly christened “Lady Catherine Victorious.” “Victorious” would have been a better name for our caravel, given the gaudy bowsprit, but Mayweather’s enthusiasm was always impossible to contain.
And so we sailed east from Palermo. AS our prows cut the sea to foam we continued our efforts to subvert the heretics and traitors impersonating officers. Mayweather’s discerning ear identified the tell-tale dialects of the upper classes in our Master of Sails. Durand took the knowledge and accused the officer of being the English Baron Christian James IV. Alas for Durand, his accusation was wrong, and the Captain stripped Durand from his post and gave him the worst tasks aboard!. Wildemoon discovered the Master of Guns was German, while I determined the Master of Arms was a native Frenchman and Willoughby that our Master of Sailors was Spanish. Surprisingly, the unsophisticated Toppo realized our Master of Sails was Monsieur Martine! Martine surrendered his post to Toppo and joined the common sailors.
Unfortunately, as we voyaged east we sailed into Infidel Waters. The Infidel lands were still in turmoil sue to the recent death of the Emperor of the Indus, and we were fired upon multiple times. “Lady Catherine Victorious” became “Lady Catherine Scuttled.”
“Lady Catherine Triumphant” (The vessel was truly named “St. Brigid’s Breath,” but the crew had adopted Mayweather’s moniker) was turned west, the south to sail the coasts of Europe and Africa, around Cape Horn. Our Captain had wished to avoid the eternal storm that raged around Africa and Burma, but our past experiences here became of aid. Paul Wildemoon was able to add the storms to our charts and we hung to a safe passage.
And so, friends, we entered the unknown oceans east and south of the Mughal lands. Here the air grew cold and the seas gray. Massive bergs of ice floated in sea, glistening like pearl in the pale sun. Once, while anchored for the night, floes drifted close to the hull and we almost found ourselves iced in! Here we found use for the dulled cutlasses. They might not have been suited to cutting flesh, but they served well enough in shattering ice..
Wildemoon deflected any blame from the near-mishap onto poor Captain Mayweather! I don’t know what the Captain said to the flamboyant Mayweather, but he looked near tears when he was given the distasteful tasks that had previously been Durand’s. The look on the face of the omnipresent Yonten gave chills to any who observed the boy. Yonten’s loyalty to Mayweather was clear, and I realized that the boy could resort to violence if he felt Mayweather had been overly slighted. My friends, never overlook the servants. Too many do so, only to find that those ignored can become the most deadly.
Still, perhaps Durand would have better off in the below-deck duties. A lone pyrate vessel attempted ambush from the ice. Theseus lead the men in a successful defense, but Durand took a pistol ball through his shoulder in the battle. And so we struck north for warmer waters.
During this time Durand took the post of Master of Arms after blackmailing Martine Dubois from the position. Toppo got the Spanish Master of Sailors to abandon his post, while I took over the post of the Russian Kezban. Willoughby managed to uncover the identity of the Master of Arms by making a rather rude joke. The Master of Arms gave himself away growling, “Never use ‘Schmitt’ as a swear word.” We felt certain the Master of Guns was Jansen van Jacobs, and even felt certain enough the Captain was actually Baron Christian James IV, but, before we could make our final insinuations, we sailed directly into a massive, swirling storm.
Ah, the storm. The battering waves almost turned our hull parallel to the waves. Men grew sick, others were nearly struck by lightning, while too many of our food stores became infested with crabs and urchins. We almost, ALMOST had a most catastrophic loss. The stores of rum broke free, and only the quick actions of Durand saved them.
Ah, and speaking of rum, my friends, I think it’s time for another round. Le Sal, perhaps you would be so kind as to pick up the bottle. As for me, all this talk of storms has me needing to make rain upon the flowers. If you’ll excuse me, my friends, I’ll be back momentarily to continue the tale.
(Lawrence LeRoux)
Yours,
IronMike
23-Nov-2020