Indefatigable, 1795
Honor (n): 1. High regard
As Captain Foster climbed aboard the Indefatigable, Horatio gazed at him with unconcealed delight. He had heard great things about the man, and now he had a chance to talk with him! He was so enraptured that he didn't notice the disapproving look on Captain Pellew's face.
Foster looked up at Pellew. "I hope you don't mind, Captain, but I'm bringing along a servant of mine."
"Fine, fine." Pellew waved his hand dismissively. Horatio turned his gaze over to see the new arrival, who promptly tripped over the rope ladder and fell hard onto the deck.
"For God's sake, girl!" Foster griped, "Can't you once do something without falling over yourself?"
"Sorry, sir." the girl panted. Horatio, always the gentleman, came down to assist her. As he helped her to her feet, the girl gave him a glance, then did a double take. "Horatio?" she asked.
Horatio didn't know what to make of this until he saw the girl's lavender eyes. "Samantha? Samantha Nottingam?"
"I knew it was you!" she said, smiling, "I told you we'd meet again."
"Girl!" Foster bellowed down the deck. Samantha rolled her eyes and headed after Foster. Horatio followed her with his eyes. It was the first time he'd ever seen her in a dress.
At dinner that evening, Samantha was kept busy refilling wine goblets, allowing little time for Horatio to speak to her. But she did manage to give him a few sideways smiles as she passed him. Foster went on and on about the battle he had just fought with a Spanish ship. Pausing midway, he looked up and called, "Girl, what's taking you so long?" As Samantha bent to pour him more wine, Foster placed his hand on her stomach. Samantha's hand quivered, and some of the wine splashed onto the Captain's breeches. "Watch yourself, girl!" Foster snapped, "What is the matter with you?"
"Nothing, sir." she murmured, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing at the stain. "Don't trouble yourself, girl, go on and serve the others." Foster said. Samantha nodded and came to Horatio's side. "Wine?" she asked. Though Horatio felt he'd had enough, he allowed her to pour him another glass. He looked into her deep eyes and saw the distaste in them. He put his hand on hers under the table. She smiled at him, and her trembling hand became steady. "Meet me by the mainmast tonight." she whispered, "We have a lot to discuss."
When Horatio arrived at the mainmast, he saw Samantha already waiting for him, leaning against the wood and gazing out to sea. Horatio paused to examine her, comparing her to the man he had known.
Old Sam's counterpart didn't keep her hair in a queue. She preferred to leave it hanging around her, leaving parts of her face in shadow. She was slim, so much so that her body hardly betrayed any signs of femininity, unless you looked for it. Most men would have considered her to be plain. Horatio, looking at her, thought she was lovely. As he came up, a gust of wind blew her hair across her face, increasing her beauty. She turned slightly to regard him, a smile forming at the corners of her lips. "There you are! I was wondering if you'd forgotten."
Horatio shook his head. "I don't break promises." He looked at her again. "How long have you been serving Foster?"
"For about a year." She avoided his gave, seeming to be fascinated with a spot on the horizon. Undaunted, Horatio pressed on. "Is he really as skilled as the stories I've heard?"
Samantha looked back at him. In her eyes, he could see that same distaste, as well as pity. "Yes. But he cares more about his own image than the livelihood of the men. Take the battle today. He was loathe to leave without a fight. Now look where that's got us." Her eyes hardened. "You may regard him with honor, Horatio, but I regard him with disgust." She placed her hand on her stomach.
Horatio's eyes widened. "He hasn't been...has he?"
"Oh!" Samantha seemed to come out of a reverie. "No, no. But he is interested. Shows how desperate he is, eh?"
"I'll have none of that, Samantha." Horatio said, taking his hands in hers, "You are lovely."
She looked at him, expressionless. Horatio dropped his gaze to her hands, noting how long and graceful her fingers were. Then he heard Samantha's quiet laugh. "You have the potential to be quite the charmer when you get older, Horatio." She took her hands from his. "I thank you for your kind words, but it is simply a fact that I am neither pretty or ugly. I am just...me."
Somewhere on the ship, Foster called for her. She sighed. "My idleness is over." she said, passing her hand over his shoulder. The last thing he saw was her black hair whipping out of sight, almost blending with the night.
The next morning, Foster departed for his own ship, with Samantha respectfully following behind. Before she left, she gave Horatio a smile and brushed her hand against his own. "Until we next meet." she murmured, before she slipped over the side.
"Captain Foster! What on Earth are you doing?" Horatio called to the famous captain a month later. He had returned from gathering water, in time to see Foster's men carrying away three sides of beef from the supply ship Horatio had been protecting.
"I think it is only fair, Mr. Hornblower, that you should give us a little of your bounty! After all, the rest of the fleet fares worse than you!"
Horatio gritted his teeth. There was no way Foster could know, of course, but stealing the meat, besides being a crime, meant risking his men. "You should know, Captain, that we are a plague ship. The meat you carry might be infected!"
There was an audible gasp from someone in the boat, and someone rose to address Foster. "Sir, if I may...if we take aboard this meat, we could all be killed!"
"At least we'll die with our bellies full!" Foster retorted.
"But sir!" The speaker in the boat protested, "Think of how this could endanger the fleet!"
The crack from Foster's gun echoed off the two ships. The speaker gave a gasp and fell back into the boat, out of sight. "Anyone else protest?" Foster bellowed.
Horatio at last had to let the Captain take the meat, seething silently. If the plague did escape into the fleet, he would be at fault. And even if it wasn't infected, one crewman had been killed, or badly wounded, for trying to convince his captain to do what was right. All Horatio's earlier feelings of respect for Foster had vanished.
All too soon, the day of Horatio's examination for Lieutenant arrived. About fifty acting-lieutenants were clustered in the waiting room, nervously studying, testing each other, or just quietly having nervous breakdowns. Horatio was among the latter, praying for deliverance: He had just learned that Foster was among the examiners.
The door creaked. Horatio looked up to see Samantha, one arm hidden by a cloak, entering the room. "The examiners bid me give you water while you wait." There was a murmur of appreciation. Samantha traveled down the room, pouring water, but speaking little. When she came to Horatio, the last applicant, her eyes widened. "I wasn't sure if I'd see you here." she murmured, giving him a smile, "I knew you would come soon, but I wasn't sure when."
As she bent to fill the glass, Horatio caught sight of a sling underneath the cloak. "What happened to your arm?"
Samantha looked at her arm. "It figures that you're the only one to notice. Well, you might as well know." She sat besides him and lowered her voice still further. "Foster would tell you that I fell from the rigging. The truth is that he shot me."
"He..." Horatio looked aghast. "But...why?"
"Actually, I don't know why I'm telling you this. You were there. That was you, in the boat, when Foster stole your meat?"
"You were that crewman who protested!" Horatio realized. She smiled wryly. "Foster sent me over to help pick the best cuts of meat. You're asked to do the oddest things when you serve a captain like that. I didn't want to do it, but who was I to refuse? Then you returned, and, well, you saw what happened."
"Samantha..." Horatio began, then stopped, unsure of what to say. Just then, Foster's voice echoed down the hall. "Next!"
Samantha rose with the next applicant. "Good luck." she whispered, before disappearing into the crowd of men.
Hours later, Horatio sat before the examiners, twisting his hands over the impossible question set before him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Samantha cross to the window. He closed his eyes in despair. He had failed. Six more months as a Midshipman awaited him.
"Sir?" Samantha's voice, quiet and urgent, made Horatio open his eyes. She was standing besides the window, her face illuminated by a bright light.
"Not now, girl!" Foster snapped. Horatio could have sworn that as Foster turned back, he saw the Captain mouth the word 'bitch'.
Samantha crossed to Foster and glared down at him. For now, she towered over him. "Sir," she began, and Horatio heard the voice of Old Sam coming out of her mouth, "I insist you look out the window. There is something you should see."
"What is interesting to a serving girl is irrelevant to me." Foster said, dismissively.
"Oh, a ship in flames about to ram your ship is irrelevant, then?" Samantha said, her voice oozing sarcasm. Foster leapt from his chair and dashed to the window. The other examiners and Horatio followed suit. Samantha was right. A ship, engulfed in fire, was sailing into the harbor.
"By God, a fireship!" Foster hissed, "We have to stop it!" He turned on his heel and left the room, the examiners right behind. Horatio was left alone with Samantha. She cocked her head, considering him with her lilac eyes. "Why be left out? You have as much right to be out there as the others." She reached out with her good hand and gave him a push. "Go on."
The last thing Horatio saw as he swept out of the room was the smile that crossed Samantha's face.
The next morning, Horatio was told that a letter had arrived for him. The letter had been hastily written, yet the tone was calm.
I hope this letter finds you before you set sail. I only just heard about the events of last night, and I am impressed by what I hear. Foster, I believe, has changed his opinion of you. I seem to recall him calling you an 'upstart.' He called you a hero before he left this morning. Always the fighter, I have gathered that he challenged Captain Hammond to a duel. I suppose I am the one to convey the unfortunate news that Foster was killed by Hammond at five this morning. Despite all he put me through, I feel sorry for him, even more so than I do for myself . I am out of work now, and shall return to my father in Portsmouth until I find another occupation. If you know of anyone who needs a girl to pour water or shoot a pistol, please let me know.
'Old Sam'
Horatio smiled. He could almost imagine Samantha's ringing laugh as she penned the last words. He was certain that she would be all right, wherever her next adventure took her.
As Captain Foster climbed aboard the Indefatigable, Horatio gazed at him with unconcealed delight. He had heard great things about the man, and now he had a chance to talk with him! He was so enraptured that he didn't notice the disapproving look on Captain Pellew's face.
Foster looked up at Pellew. "I hope you don't mind, Captain, but I'm bringing along a servant of mine."
"Fine, fine." Pellew waved his hand dismissively. Horatio turned his gaze over to see the new arrival, who promptly tripped over the rope ladder and fell hard onto the deck.
"For God's sake, girl!" Foster griped, "Can't you once do something without falling over yourself?"
"Sorry, sir." the girl panted. Horatio, always the gentleman, came down to assist her. As he helped her to her feet, the girl gave him a glance, then did a double take. "Horatio?" she asked.
Horatio didn't know what to make of this until he saw the girl's lavender eyes. "Samantha? Samantha Nottingam?"
"I knew it was you!" she said, smiling, "I told you we'd meet again."
"Girl!" Foster bellowed down the deck. Samantha rolled her eyes and headed after Foster. Horatio followed her with his eyes. It was the first time he'd ever seen her in a dress.
At dinner that evening, Samantha was kept busy refilling wine goblets, allowing little time for Horatio to speak to her. But she did manage to give him a few sideways smiles as she passed him. Foster went on and on about the battle he had just fought with a Spanish ship. Pausing midway, he looked up and called, "Girl, what's taking you so long?" As Samantha bent to pour him more wine, Foster placed his hand on her stomach. Samantha's hand quivered, and some of the wine splashed onto the Captain's breeches. "Watch yourself, girl!" Foster snapped, "What is the matter with you?"
"Nothing, sir." she murmured, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing at the stain. "Don't trouble yourself, girl, go on and serve the others." Foster said. Samantha nodded and came to Horatio's side. "Wine?" she asked. Though Horatio felt he'd had enough, he allowed her to pour him another glass. He looked into her deep eyes and saw the distaste in them. He put his hand on hers under the table. She smiled at him, and her trembling hand became steady. "Meet me by the mainmast tonight." she whispered, "We have a lot to discuss."
When Horatio arrived at the mainmast, he saw Samantha already waiting for him, leaning against the wood and gazing out to sea. Horatio paused to examine her, comparing her to the man he had known.
Old Sam's counterpart didn't keep her hair in a queue. She preferred to leave it hanging around her, leaving parts of her face in shadow. She was slim, so much so that her body hardly betrayed any signs of femininity, unless you looked for it. Most men would have considered her to be plain. Horatio, looking at her, thought she was lovely. As he came up, a gust of wind blew her hair across her face, increasing her beauty. She turned slightly to regard him, a smile forming at the corners of her lips. "There you are! I was wondering if you'd forgotten."
Horatio shook his head. "I don't break promises." He looked at her again. "How long have you been serving Foster?"
"For about a year." She avoided his gave, seeming to be fascinated with a spot on the horizon. Undaunted, Horatio pressed on. "Is he really as skilled as the stories I've heard?"
Samantha looked back at him. In her eyes, he could see that same distaste, as well as pity. "Yes. But he cares more about his own image than the livelihood of the men. Take the battle today. He was loathe to leave without a fight. Now look where that's got us." Her eyes hardened. "You may regard him with honor, Horatio, but I regard him with disgust." She placed her hand on her stomach.
Horatio's eyes widened. "He hasn't been...has he?"
"Oh!" Samantha seemed to come out of a reverie. "No, no. But he is interested. Shows how desperate he is, eh?"
"I'll have none of that, Samantha." Horatio said, taking his hands in hers, "You are lovely."
She looked at him, expressionless. Horatio dropped his gaze to her hands, noting how long and graceful her fingers were. Then he heard Samantha's quiet laugh. "You have the potential to be quite the charmer when you get older, Horatio." She took her hands from his. "I thank you for your kind words, but it is simply a fact that I am neither pretty or ugly. I am just...me."
Somewhere on the ship, Foster called for her. She sighed. "My idleness is over." she said, passing her hand over his shoulder. The last thing he saw was her black hair whipping out of sight, almost blending with the night.
The next morning, Foster departed for his own ship, with Samantha respectfully following behind. Before she left, she gave Horatio a smile and brushed her hand against his own. "Until we next meet." she murmured, before she slipped over the side.
"Captain Foster! What on Earth are you doing?" Horatio called to the famous captain a month later. He had returned from gathering water, in time to see Foster's men carrying away three sides of beef from the supply ship Horatio had been protecting.
"I think it is only fair, Mr. Hornblower, that you should give us a little of your bounty! After all, the rest of the fleet fares worse than you!"
Horatio gritted his teeth. There was no way Foster could know, of course, but stealing the meat, besides being a crime, meant risking his men. "You should know, Captain, that we are a plague ship. The meat you carry might be infected!"
There was an audible gasp from someone in the boat, and someone rose to address Foster. "Sir, if I may...if we take aboard this meat, we could all be killed!"
"At least we'll die with our bellies full!" Foster retorted.
"But sir!" The speaker in the boat protested, "Think of how this could endanger the fleet!"
The crack from Foster's gun echoed off the two ships. The speaker gave a gasp and fell back into the boat, out of sight. "Anyone else protest?" Foster bellowed.
Horatio at last had to let the Captain take the meat, seething silently. If the plague did escape into the fleet, he would be at fault. And even if it wasn't infected, one crewman had been killed, or badly wounded, for trying to convince his captain to do what was right. All Horatio's earlier feelings of respect for Foster had vanished.
All too soon, the day of Horatio's examination for Lieutenant arrived. About fifty acting-lieutenants were clustered in the waiting room, nervously studying, testing each other, or just quietly having nervous breakdowns. Horatio was among the latter, praying for deliverance: He had just learned that Foster was among the examiners.
The door creaked. Horatio looked up to see Samantha, one arm hidden by a cloak, entering the room. "The examiners bid me give you water while you wait." There was a murmur of appreciation. Samantha traveled down the room, pouring water, but speaking little. When she came to Horatio, the last applicant, her eyes widened. "I wasn't sure if I'd see you here." she murmured, giving him a smile, "I knew you would come soon, but I wasn't sure when."
As she bent to fill the glass, Horatio caught sight of a sling underneath the cloak. "What happened to your arm?"
Samantha looked at her arm. "It figures that you're the only one to notice. Well, you might as well know." She sat besides him and lowered her voice still further. "Foster would tell you that I fell from the rigging. The truth is that he shot me."
"He..." Horatio looked aghast. "But...why?"
"Actually, I don't know why I'm telling you this. You were there. That was you, in the boat, when Foster stole your meat?"
"You were that crewman who protested!" Horatio realized. She smiled wryly. "Foster sent me over to help pick the best cuts of meat. You're asked to do the oddest things when you serve a captain like that. I didn't want to do it, but who was I to refuse? Then you returned, and, well, you saw what happened."
"Samantha..." Horatio began, then stopped, unsure of what to say. Just then, Foster's voice echoed down the hall. "Next!"
Samantha rose with the next applicant. "Good luck." she whispered, before disappearing into the crowd of men.
Hours later, Horatio sat before the examiners, twisting his hands over the impossible question set before him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Samantha cross to the window. He closed his eyes in despair. He had failed. Six more months as a Midshipman awaited him.
"Sir?" Samantha's voice, quiet and urgent, made Horatio open his eyes. She was standing besides the window, her face illuminated by a bright light.
"Not now, girl!" Foster snapped. Horatio could have sworn that as Foster turned back, he saw the Captain mouth the word 'bitch'.
Samantha crossed to Foster and glared down at him. For now, she towered over him. "Sir," she began, and Horatio heard the voice of Old Sam coming out of her mouth, "I insist you look out the window. There is something you should see."
"What is interesting to a serving girl is irrelevant to me." Foster said, dismissively.
"Oh, a ship in flames about to ram your ship is irrelevant, then?" Samantha said, her voice oozing sarcasm. Foster leapt from his chair and dashed to the window. The other examiners and Horatio followed suit. Samantha was right. A ship, engulfed in fire, was sailing into the harbor.
"By God, a fireship!" Foster hissed, "We have to stop it!" He turned on his heel and left the room, the examiners right behind. Horatio was left alone with Samantha. She cocked her head, considering him with her lilac eyes. "Why be left out? You have as much right to be out there as the others." She reached out with her good hand and gave him a push. "Go on."
The last thing Horatio saw as he swept out of the room was the smile that crossed Samantha's face.
The next morning, Horatio was told that a letter had arrived for him. The letter had been hastily written, yet the tone was calm.
I hope this letter finds you before you set sail. I only just heard about the events of last night, and I am impressed by what I hear. Foster, I believe, has changed his opinion of you. I seem to recall him calling you an 'upstart.' He called you a hero before he left this morning. Always the fighter, I have gathered that he challenged Captain Hammond to a duel. I suppose I am the one to convey the unfortunate news that Foster was killed by Hammond at five this morning. Despite all he put me through, I feel sorry for him, even more so than I do for myself . I am out of work now, and shall return to my father in Portsmouth until I find another occupation. If you know of anyone who needs a girl to pour water or shoot a pistol, please let me know.
'Old Sam'
Horatio smiled. He could almost imagine Samantha's ringing laugh as she penned the last words. He was certain that she would be all right, wherever her next adventure took her.