Note: I don't own. But you knew that, didn't you?
Other note: I finally got off my derrière and posted this!
Other other note: I made a little mistake in the last chapter. Harker is a commodore, not an admiral.
Lieutenant Horatio Hornblower of his majesty's frigate Indefatigable snaked his way through the throng of men and the odd officer to a table that was cleaner than most. Plunking himself down on the cheap pinewood chair, he contemplated the menu with a skeptical eye. He briefly considered ordering a glass of wine to calm himself, but he rejected that idea. He had found early on that he disliked feeling drunk. He leaned back in his chair, surveying the room, wishing he had some way to kill time before reporting back to his ship. Other men looked forward to their shore leave, but as for Hornblower, he'd rather be on his ship, dreaming up plans to thwart the French
His prayers were answered in the form of a scruffy looking lieutenant with a face like a horse, who, grinning, leaned over from his own table and said, "You from the Indefa- um, that ship what just came in?" Hornblower nodded
"Yes, I am. What of it?"
"I've heard talk that you've got ol' iceman Harker for a commanding officer," he chuckled. Hornblower frowned.
"No, actually, I have the honor to sail under Captain Pellew." The lieutenant waved dismissive hand.
"No, not your captain. You're all to be under the command of Commodore Harker, Commodore Iceman Harker, if he's not within earshot." He sat back, with a smug look.
"Iceman?" asked Hornblower "Why iceman?" The lieutenant leaned forward conspiratorially.
"'Cause the lads recon that ice runs in the man's veins, not human blood."
"What?" spluttered Hornblower. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, they say Harker is a real strategist and all, an' that he knows more about sailing than a judge knows about law, but as a man...well, lets just say he can be a bit cruel." The man paused, and took a swig from his brandy. "You know the battle he is famous for winning with brilliant strategy? Well, I have it from good sources that that brilliant strategy included sending his best captain on a mission he knew was suicide. In fact, I think they were friends. If anyone could get close enough to that man to be called a friend"
Hornblower gasped. "Indeed? That's- that's horrible!" The man nodded in agreement.
"I've had personal experience too. I've never seen him smile, much less laugh. He drives his men hard -but I'm being unfair. He drives himself the hardest of all. He seems not to need sleep sometimes.." He trailed off, considering. He shrugged, and drained his tankard, thumping it down hard enough to make the table rattle. "Well, best be off, or Captain Lynley will have my ass." He strolled off towards the door, in an almost swaggering manner. Just as he was about to open it, he swung around, and with an almost drunken grin he called, "Good luck with the Iceman, by the way" He sauntered out the door and was gone, leaving a very worried lieutenant behind him.
Other note: I finally got off my derrière and posted this!
Other other note: I made a little mistake in the last chapter. Harker is a commodore, not an admiral.
Lieutenant Horatio Hornblower of his majesty's frigate Indefatigable snaked his way through the throng of men and the odd officer to a table that was cleaner than most. Plunking himself down on the cheap pinewood chair, he contemplated the menu with a skeptical eye. He briefly considered ordering a glass of wine to calm himself, but he rejected that idea. He had found early on that he disliked feeling drunk. He leaned back in his chair, surveying the room, wishing he had some way to kill time before reporting back to his ship. Other men looked forward to their shore leave, but as for Hornblower, he'd rather be on his ship, dreaming up plans to thwart the French
His prayers were answered in the form of a scruffy looking lieutenant with a face like a horse, who, grinning, leaned over from his own table and said, "You from the Indefa- um, that ship what just came in?" Hornblower nodded
"Yes, I am. What of it?"
"I've heard talk that you've got ol' iceman Harker for a commanding officer," he chuckled. Hornblower frowned.
"No, actually, I have the honor to sail under Captain Pellew." The lieutenant waved dismissive hand.
"No, not your captain. You're all to be under the command of Commodore Harker, Commodore Iceman Harker, if he's not within earshot." He sat back, with a smug look.
"Iceman?" asked Hornblower "Why iceman?" The lieutenant leaned forward conspiratorially.
"'Cause the lads recon that ice runs in the man's veins, not human blood."
"What?" spluttered Hornblower. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, they say Harker is a real strategist and all, an' that he knows more about sailing than a judge knows about law, but as a man...well, lets just say he can be a bit cruel." The man paused, and took a swig from his brandy. "You know the battle he is famous for winning with brilliant strategy? Well, I have it from good sources that that brilliant strategy included sending his best captain on a mission he knew was suicide. In fact, I think they were friends. If anyone could get close enough to that man to be called a friend"
Hornblower gasped. "Indeed? That's- that's horrible!" The man nodded in agreement.
"I've had personal experience too. I've never seen him smile, much less laugh. He drives his men hard -but I'm being unfair. He drives himself the hardest of all. He seems not to need sleep sometimes.." He trailed off, considering. He shrugged, and drained his tankard, thumping it down hard enough to make the table rattle. "Well, best be off, or Captain Lynley will have my ass." He strolled off towards the door, in an almost swaggering manner. Just as he was about to open it, he swung around, and with an almost drunken grin he called, "Good luck with the Iceman, by the way" He sauntered out the door and was gone, leaving a very worried lieutenant behind him.