Summary: After the cliff incident in Retribution, Mr. Kennedy teases his fellow lieutenants about their respective fears, heights and drowning. Mr. Bush responds by asking what Kennedy's greatest fear is.

The Bravest Man

The sun slowly dried the damp lieutenants of His Majesty's Ship Renown. They leaned against the railing as the crew bustled around them. They were making ready to depart from the bay, but the sailors had insisted that brave Messrs. Hornblower, Bush, and Kennedy be at ease. If the acting captain had wanted to protest, he did not. He had thus far avoided his lieutenants. This was probably because he had knowingly sent them on a suicide mission that they had survived, and he could not look them in the eyes.

As far as the lieutenants were concerned, this was not a bad thing. They enjoyed their freedom from Mr. Buckland as much as they enjoyed their freedom from labor, if not quite as much as they enjoyed their freedom from death.

They didn't talk about that, though. They were still too full of their experience and feeling rather invincible. Even serious Mr. Hornblower, who rarely laughed, and gruff Mr. Bush, who rarely smiled, were joining in the mirth of Mr. Kennedy, who frequently partook of both activities.

"How did it feel, Horatio, to be on that cliff top? There was a dizzying second when you looked rather green," Kennedy said, grinning. Hornblower was too used to his friend's childish jibes to be offended.

"There was surely more than one dizzying second. I believe I lost several organs on the way down."

"It's a good thing they float, then," said Kennedy, seriously. But his eyes twinkled. "Unlike a certain officer I could mention." He turned wildly to Mr. Bush, on his other side. "It is common enough for sailors to be unable to swim, but a lieutenant is generally competent. Who ever heard of an officer who was afraid of the sea?!"

Bush was not so used to Kennedy's jargon nor was he as patient a man as Mr. Hornblower. His good mood slowly melted away at the younger man's words, and he began to scowl again.

"Yes, Mr. Hornblower is afraid of heights, and yes, I am afraid of drowning. I believe these are rational enough fears, especially on a ship."

Kennedy snorted. He was about to make another clever comment, but Bush cut him off.

"Tell us, Mr. Kennedy. What do you fear?"

Kennedy laughed, carelessly. "I? Who's to say I have any fears?"

"Every man fears something."

"Who's to say I am a man?" Kennedy countered. "I could be the son of a god – Poseidon, perhaps. That would explain why I have taken so well to the Naval life."

It was Hornblower's turn to snort. Kennedy was not a vain man and spoke his boasts in jest, and they both knew it. They were able to laugh at him together. Bush, still not perfectly comfortable with either man, much less their combined antics, did not laugh. Kennedy quieted, too.

"All right, Mr. Bush. You asked a valid question, so I shall give you an answer. I fear that I shall die without knowing a woman's touch."

Hornblower laughed again. Bush glared at him – it was unlike the lieutenant to be so jolly. He much preferred having him on the serious side so they could combat Kennedy's ridiculousness together. He was willing to chalk it up to addled nerves from their recent, near-death experience, but he wanted his grave companion back. Another thought occurred to him.

"I thought you were married," he muttered.

"So I am," Kennedy grinned. "So there – I have nothing to fear. Except…" His face clouded over, and Bush thought that perhaps now he would get a serious answer. "I do fear that Buckland will get so distracted that he will steer us to Australia instead of England," he confessed.

A passing sailor chortled, and Bush sharply reprimanded him. He turned back to Kennedy to do the same, but to his immense pleasure, Hornblower got there first.

"Archie," he chastened. "Show Mr. Buckland some respect. It is not easy being a captain."

"You are right, as usual, Mr. Hornblower," said Kennedy with a theatrical bow. "I have changed my mind. My true fear is that I shall be trapped on this ship with you humorless sods for much longer."

Hornblower rolled his eyes, but Bush narrowed his. He took a step closer to Kennedy and looked into his smiling face. It was a round, boyish face, and his eyes were the color of the sky, wide and sparkling. It was an innocent face, but as Bush looked closer he saw something in the face and in the eyes that made him shiver. There was a terror there, so well hidden that perhaps Kennedy himself did not always know it was there.

"You jest." He spoke softly, so that only Kennedy and Hornblower could hear him. "You laugh. You quote pretty verses and stage clever plays. But all the while you avoid the question. The question, Mr. Kennedy, is what do you fear? I think you fear the answer. You fear that you are afraid. You fear that when you are called upon to be brave and to do your duty that you will buckle underneath your suffocating, sickening fear. You fear that when the lives of your friends and fellow officers, when the lives of every man on this ship are in your hands, you will panic and fail us all."

Bush watched the terror surface, and he was not pleased to see it. As infuriating as Kennedy could be, Bush liked his spirit. He admired his loyalty to the ship and especially to Hornblower. Although he had worked to crush him, he now regretted it. He saw Kennedy's eyes harden.

"Now you know me for what I am," he said, quietly.

"Archie," said Hornblower, firmly. "Archie, you fought well today. You volunteered to lay the fuses. You came back for me. You were with me on the cliff. You – "

"Today. I was with you today," said Kennedy. "It is easy to be brave when you have someone to copy. It is just playacting, like I see in the theater at home. I am playing Hamlet, memorizing lines and faking duels, but I am afraid that one day the poisoned sword will be real."

Hornblower and Bush gazed at his transformed face and said nothing. He looked stricken, frightened, so unlike the strong young man who had laughed at them moments ago. He saw their horror and sympathy and smiled bitterly.

"Now, gentleman, we have all faced our fears. But we have not all prevailed."

Kennedy turned from them and walked away, across the deck. He passed by sailors who glanced at him with concern. If they had not loved him before this day they did now, and they saw the change in him. Hornblower moved to follow him, but Bush caught his arm.

"His demons are in his own mind, and he must face them."

"Not alone," said Hornblower, firmly. "He does not have to face them alone."

Bush dropped his arm as if he had been stung and stepped quickly backward. Hornblower did not move forward, however. He saw Bush's expression and sighed.

"Did I do wrong?" Bush asked, weakly, desperately. Hornblower ran his hand over his face. He looked more tired than he had after the long swim from the bottom of the cliff.

"He has been battling his own panic for as long as I have known him. You did not cause it. Long ago, there was a man – But he is dead now. It doesn't matter."

"But the demon lives on," said Bush.

"Yes, and as long as it lives, Archie will fight it. He does not give up easily, our Mr. Kennedy."

"No," Bush agreed. "I have seen that."

"He is the bravest man I know," said Hornblower. He was not telling this to Bush but whispering it to himself. He looked across the ship's deck to where Kennedy stood with his hands gripping the railing, his back to them them. Even from that distance they could tell he was trembling, but his head was held high. Hornblower waited a beat longer and then crossed the deck himself. He stood beside his friend and spoke softly, words Bush could not hear. He saw Kennedy shrug, then nod, then heard him chuckle.

"The bravest man," Bush agreed, but he was not sure which man he was looking at.