Roman a Clef
Part Two: Discovery at Sea
By Anne B. Walsh
Author Notes:
Part Two takes place a few days before Part One. Thank you.
The Black Dog and the Grey Wolf
Or, The Further Adventures of Samuel and Alison
By Valentina Jett
x X x X x
Part Two: Discovery at Sea
Hogan L. Yelrud I sat in his cabin aboard the good ship Brace, going over his books with satisfaction. He did love to see his numbers lining up in perfect rows. Especially when those rows involved a gratifying number of zeroes.
Hogan was one of the foremost merchants dealing in wrought iron in the south of England. With the new craze for mechanization, iron implements were much in demand. The business had been good to him, very good, and to his wife, his incomparable Daisy, and to their handsome son, Hogan L. Yelrud II...
The boy had made a fuss about coming on this voyage, but Hogan had been firm with his son. A man had to learn what he would be doing with his life, and the business would belong to the boy one day... thirteen wasn’t too young to learn, not at all. Daisy, of course, simply adored ocean voyages, especially since every ship in the Yelrud fleet (only three at the moment, but he hoped someday there would be more) had a luxury cabin for the owner and his wife built into its design...
Suddenly there was a loud noise, almost like a gunshot. Simultaneously, shouts and screams erupted on deck. He put his books aside in surprise. What on earth?
"Father!" shouted Hogan II, appearing in the doorway. His face was flushed and fearful. "Father, come quickly! It’s the Marauder, the Black Dog, he means to board us!"
Hogan followed his son out of the cabin and up onto deck at a run, his mind racing.
Pirates? Here? Now? But why? We have nothing of great value, no gold or jewels here...
He arrived on deck, panting, just in time to catch his wife as she swooned. The captain of the ship, a rather diminutive man named Flythe, stood nearby, his face worried. "Why did you not sail away?" Hogan raged at him. "Why stop?"
"The Black Dog’s a gentleman, sir," the captain said. "He lives by his code. Once he flies his colors, he fires a warning shot. If you’re wise, you furl your sails then and there and allow him to board. If not, he’ll fight you — and the Marauder being so small, it’s difficult to target."
"A small ship means small guns. What have you to be afraid of, man? This ship has thick sides, strong walls. What do you fear?"
"A raft with barrels of gunpowder strapped to it, such as he did to the Walnut. Or some of his men coming aboard in secret by night to steal and terrorize, as happened aboard the Independence. The Black Dog knows a thousand ways to fight, and the stories say he’s never lost a battle or a man. I’m a practical man, sir, and I’d rather lose you some of your merchandise and me some of my pay than either of our lives or the ship." The captain looked up. "Here comes his boat."
A small boat was indeed approaching, with six men rowing and one sitting in the stern. "The Black Dog himself," the captain muttered. "They say he can smell a ship a mile away."
"Father, look," said Hogan II, pointing toward the boat. "He has boys with him."
Hogan looked, and saw. Two smaller figures sat in the bow of the boat, and two more in the stern beside the Black Dog, who passed his hand affectionately over the black head of one. The other beside him had red hair, and the two in the front were pale blond and brown-haired respectively. All four wore masks over the top halves of their faces.
Every man in that boat is masked, except for the Black Dog himself, Hogan realized as the boat came so close to the ship as to be hidden by the rail. Why should that be?
"Ahoy the ship!" came a loud shout from the water. "Lower your ladder, we’re coming aboard!"
The captain nodded at one of his men who was standing nearby.
Hogan fumed. "First you stop for this pirate, now you help him aboard?"
"The Black Dog treats men with the same courtesy they show him," the captain replied stiffly. "And I’ve a wish to see tomorrow."
Hogan ground his teeth as a man appeared at the entry port.
The man was a giant. Nearly seven feet tall, well-muscled arms folded across a barrel-like chest, he stared around at the assembled sailors from behind a dark strip of cloth hiding the upper half of his face. "We’ll harm none if no harm is offered," he rumbled through a thatch of black beard. "And we’ll take naught but what yeh can spare. We rob only to live, an’ we take no pleasure in killin’. I give yeh Captain Samuel Niger of the Marauder, known to some as the Black Dog."
And to others as a thieving rat who has no right to live...
x X x X x
The ship he was boarding was called the Brace, Samuel noted as he climbed the ladder. A familiar sight awaited him at the top.
"Captain Flythe," he said, bowing to the captain. "You were commanding the Stormcrow some years ago when I boarded her in the Channel."
"I’m flattered that you remember, sir."
"It’s seldom that I meet a man so wise in the ways of the world."
"It’s seldom that I meet a pirate who, in exchange for my crew staying out of his way, keeps his hands out of my belongings and theirs."
"Shall we come to a similar arrangement today, then?"
"I would be amenable, certainly."
"Very well."
The captains shook hands on the agreement.
"Pass the word," Flythe said aloud to the men in the vicinity. "Our... visitors... are not to be molested or disturbed." Two or three of them vanished below decks instantly, no doubt to pass the word that the Black Dog had come, and anyone who wished it could come up to the deck and get a look at him.
Samuel turned to his own crew, who had been boarding as he talked with Flythe. "Cargo only, my friends. And only as much as we need. To work with you."
The boarding party — Rufus, their "greeter," Samuel’s own lovely Alison, the intelligent (and inseparable) Sera Jameson and Tricia Bush, and Patrick Mustela and his sons Alex and Richard, along with the three other boys Richard’s age — made their way towards the hatches into the holds.
"You dare!" screeched the horribly overdressed woman, recovering from her swoon. "You dare steal what my Hogan has worked his fingers to the bone to gain! You dare enrich yourselves with our goods!"
"Madame, as the good Rufus has said, we steal only to live. And to better the lives of others. And if you will forgive my saying so, your Hogan does not appear to be worked to the bone..."
Samuel trailed off, studying the woman. Twelve years older, certainly no prettier, but I think she may be...
"Daisy Thomas," he said slowly. "By all that’s holy, you’re Daisy Thomas — aren’t you?"
"I am Mrs. Daisy Yelrud now, and you will address me as such, pirate," the woman snapped, fiddling with one of the many necklaces she was wearing. "My first name is not for the likes of you."
"As you like, Mrs. Yelrud." Samuel bowed slightly to her. "I thought perhaps you would like news of your nephew, Henry."
"I care nothing for the brat, whether he lives or dies," the woman said sneeringly. "Though I am sure he is dead at your hand long since."
A surge of anger swept over Samuel. "Do not insult me," he said in a very controlled voice. "It was you who would have killed him, had he not been taken from your so-called care."
"You have no call to insult my wife, sir," the fat man, who must be Mr. Yelrud, blustered. "In fact, you have no call to be speaking to her at all. Leave us in peace, and go help your crew steal what I have worked for."
"I believe I shall," Samuel said, beginning to smile. "Help my crew, that is. But not in the way you mean." He took a step closer to them, enjoying, in a terrible kind of way, the power he felt as they shrank back from him, but at the same time wishing they wouldn’t. "Mrs. Yelrud, what lovely necklaces you have."
And how very many of them you have. If you fell overboard, the crew could never save you in time — all that weight around your neck would be as good as a millstone... so in all honesty, I’ll be doing you a favor...
"Show me to your cabin, madame, if you would be so kind," Samuel said, waving toward the hatch. "You, too, sir," he gestured to Mr. Yelrud, "and this young man as well. Rufus!" he shouted toward the stern.
"Aye, sir?" replied the huge man, head and shoulders appearing above deck.
"Send Richard and Dominic, and their two friends, forward to the owner’s cabin. I have a special job for them." Not the best of ideas to be shouting Henry and Daniel’s names about.
"Aye, sir." Rufus disappeared below deck again.
"I take it this is your son," Samuel said conversationally as they made their way to the cabin. "A fine looking boy." Or might be, if he weren’t carrying enough fat for a young whale.
"Yes," Yelrud said tightly.
"May I inquire his name?"
"Hogan II," said Mrs. Yelrud proudly. "After his father, Hogan I. Thirteen years old, and our pride and joy."
"I have four sons his age," Samuel remarked casually.
"Four?" Yelrud sputtered.
Samuel hid a smile. "Perhaps I should say four young men whom I consider sons. I think of all my crew as my sons or brothers. Excepting, of course, those I must think of as daughters or sisters."
Yelrud stopped dead, staring at him. "You have women aboard your ship?"
Oh, this is great fun. Not very nice, but great fun. "A good half of my adult crew this voyage is women," Samuel confirmed. "Most of them are peasant-born and have been working all their lives, so it’s no great hardship for them. The ladies among our company tend to stay on land — except for the girls, of course. They wish to prove that they can go anywhere and do anything which the boys can, and so they pester to come aboard ship, even with the extra work they know it means..."
He sat down at the table in the cabin, placed his pistol on the table in plain sight, and sighed. "I despair of turning my Pearl into a proper young lady when this is over."
"Pearl?" asked Mrs. Yelrud, a trifle shrilly, standing against the far wall of the cabin, as far from him as she could get, her husband more or less between her and Samuel, as if hoping to shield her. "Is that your child?"
Samuel leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out on the floor. "My only blood heir, born at sea and named for the gem of the ocean. Ten years old and wild as a gypsy. A pirate’s daughter is all she’s ever been, and all she ever hopes to be. Her greatest ambition is to captain the Marauder herself one day."
A knock at the door of the cabin cut off further conversation. "Enter," Samuel called.
The four boys entered, each bowing slightly to their captain. Rich, the last one in, closed the door behind him. "You wanted to see us, Captain?" asked Henry.
"Yes. My boys, I would like you to meet Mr. Hogan Yelrud and his wife Daisy, and their son Hogan II." With a rush of pride, Samuel compared his own confident pirate boys to the Yelrud’s fat fop of a son, who was backed into the corner of the cabin, not quite whimpering in fear, but surely close to it.
The boys all bowed, with only a trace of mockery, Samuel noted with approval.
"Mrs. Yelrud, if you would remove those lovely necklaces from that slender, white neck of yours."
The woman seemed unsure of whether to be affronted by his order or flattered by his compliments. The boys smirked at each other behind their hands, for they knew, as she did not, that Samuel was actually being rather rude, in his way — his preference for feminine beauty in its larger, better-padded, and darker forms was well documented.
"I’ll help you, darling," Yelrud said, casting a wary glance at the pistol. "Here, let me open the catches."
After nearly three minutes of fumbling, all the necklaces were removed. Thirteen chains, strings, and torques lay on the tabletop.
"Now, this is what we shall do," Samuel said, allowing his voice to become very gently dangerous. "All of these fine boys have a sweetheart waiting for them at home. Each of them will come forward and choose a necklace for his lady. I will permit you to reclaim one piece, Mrs. Yelrud, as not to be touched. But all else on this table is fair to claim. When each of them has one, you will have nine left, which I think is a sensible amount of jewelry. Is this agreeable to you?"
The woman’s face was contorted in anger, but she nodded stiffly.
"Then choose the piece which you would least care to lose."
She snatched a chain of interlinked rubies and sapphires from the table. "There," she said, tight-lipped and furious. "Take your pick, and may they choke your sweethearts’ little lives out!"
"No need to be rude," Samuel said mildly, allowing his hand to drift over his pistol. "Dominic, you may choose first."
As Dominic Portop, a round-faced boy with brown hair, examined the twelve necklaces remaining, Henry drifted over to Samuel. "Captain, I noticed something odd," he murmured, his mouth close to Samuel’s ear and his lips barely moving. "One of the sailors has a finger missing on his right hand."
Samuel stiffened. "Describe him," he answered in the same tones.
"A small man, not much taller than I am. Losing his hair. He has a nervous look to him."
No surprise, if he is who I think he might be... oh, God, what if he isn’t... please let him be... Samuel realized he was clutching the edge of the table and forced himself to release it.
"I told Drazah, and she thinks I’m right. She’s watching him to make sure he doesn’t get away."
Samuel relaxed all over. "Good!" he said aloud. "Good work, my boy. I’ll go and handle that myself in just a moment." My Alison could take care of that little rat any day of the week. We’ve time to finish here.
Dominic had chosen a long and patterned string of pearls, three white ones and a black, three white and a black, repeating all along the string. "You, sir, you’re next," Samuel said to Daniel, waving him forward. He knew the boy understood why his name couldn’t be used in public.
Daniel took only a few moments to select a silver chain with a moonstone pendant. Henry went next, choosing a string of gleaming tiger’s-eyes, and Richard, the last to choose, picked up a slim torque of gold, with a ruby and a sapphire set in it on either side of a diamond.
"The rest are yours, madame," Samuel said, nodding courteously to the Yelruds as the boys left. "On behalf of the ladies of our crew, we thank you." He backed out of the cabin, covering them all the way — he didn’t think any of them would have the backbone to pull a weapon on him, much less use it, but overconfident pirates quickly became dead pirates.
And I am not going to die now. Not when I’m so close to finally being out of this forever.
His lovely Alison, also known as Lady Drazah, the Terroress of the Tides, was waiting at the top of the stairs, with a very satisfied smile on her face. "Henry told you?" she asked.
Samuel nodded.
"He got suspicious and tried to run," Alison said, waving her hand astern. "Rufus caught him before he’d gone more than a few yards."
Samuel looked in the direction of her wave and saw Rufus busily trussing something up, using what appeared to be an entire coil of rope. "You’re sure, then."
"Positive. We’ve found him at last." Alison’s smile lit up the area brighter than the sun beating down, and Samuel returned it with interest, embracing his wife tightly, his entire being suffused with joy.
We’ve found Paul Caudalis — the true traitor behind the crimes I was charged with. My name can be cleared. I can leave this life behind me — we all can — the stealing, the fear — and return to society, and perhaps further our other goal by so doing...
"Foolish of him to go to sea, where he knew you were," Alison mused. "Perhaps he wanted to be caught, secretly."
"And he has." Samuel lifted Alison off her feet and twirled her around, laughing. "Been caught secretly, that is. We’ll have to give some thought to how to bring him in without being arrested instantly ourselves..."
"John and Morta can help us with that, and Lord Albert as well, I’ve no doubt. For now, we have a cargo to sell and a ship to reprovision. I suggest we make for France, take on supplies and sell to our usual friends, then homewards."
"Aye, Captain," Samuel said teasingly. "Whatever you say." He bent her backwards in a kiss, drawing whistles and hoots from the crew of the Marauder and that of the Brace alike.
Though there are some very fine aspects to the pirating life. I will be sorry to leave it. I wonder how many of the Pack feel the same?
Inwardly, he shook his head (doing so outwardly would have been a problem at the moment). Time enough to deal with that when it comes. For now, to France, and then home — the Den, and a dinner made by Mary and Morta, and perhaps Lord Albert can be persuaded to come for a visit...