PART IV: AT SCHOOL

Chapter Nineteen: Summer's End

Robert spent three days at sea as part of his training. He then spent a week in Dover with two of his fellow trainees. After that he reported for his review, and his assignment. He ended up on the Hermes as the clerk to the Chief Petty Officer. He soon found out, however, that the Chief Petty Officer did not need a clerk. Captain Grissom had been given an interesting assignment and Robert was to be a part of it. Robert was to be thought of as a fellow trainee, to challenge them to try harder.

The Hermes set sail for its next training run with six new victims. The youngest was perhaps eleven but the oldest was no more than fourteen. Robert was given the duty of scaring them. He did this in an admirable fashion. One by one, he would corner a new boy with a dare, and see how they would react. He challenged one boy to a race up the rigging. The boy made it half way up and froze. Two seamen had to climb up and carry him down. No one knew he was afraid of heights.

Robert confronted the boy afterward. "The secret is not to look down. Do you know that?"

"But you were looking down." The boy seemed to still be afraid.

"I was only looking," Robert said. "There is a trick to it. You do not stare. That is why you froze. Unless you are particularly looking at one thing, keep your eyes moving. That is why you froze. You should try it again."

But the boy didn't. Robert knew the boy would not remain, and it was his fault. The next day, it happened again. The eleven-year-old froze. The Captain was almost laughing, about having two in one trip, except it was not a joking matter. Grissom explained later that this problem came up about once every other month.

Robert decided to try again, and received permission. He climbed the rigging but from the underside, which meant using only his hands. Then he came face to face with the younger boy.

"Can you open your eyes?" The boy did so, but with surprise to find Robert looking at him from the other side of the ropes.

"Do you have a name?"

The boy nodded. "Derek."

"Look, I have tried this once before, trying to talk to someone but it does not work. I told him if it makes you nervous you should not look down, and you should try to feel the roll of the ship. It makes the climb easier." The boy nodded fearfully, and something inspired Robert to yell. "NOW GET MOVING, DEREK, OR I WILL KICK YOU OFF THE ROPES."

The boy moved. He kept climbing until he reached the topgallant where Robert was already waiting. "Do you see that?" Robert asked conversationally. "That is the tip of Cornwall. You can see it more clearly from up here." The boy nodded.

Robert watched him and understood what Harry had said about being a natural sailor. This boy was not. "You should relax, but keep a good hold on the ropes. If you pay attention to how the ship rolls you can actually climb faster and with less energy." Robert kept talking about the feel of the ship, then started pointing out the various ropes and what they did. (In some cases what he thought they did.) That was when Robert understood what his task was. His duty was not to help weed out the ones who were worthless. They would weed themselves out. He was to help the borderline cases, those who could fall either way.

Over an hour later, both boys were still up there. Robert was explaining everything he knew and the boy was asking questions. Then Robert had him climb down behind him. In a move reminiscent of an earlier voyage, a Seaman handed the boy his boots. He would become an officer.

Three days a week, Robert would help train a new group of young officers. Three days a week he would be trained, wether in a classroom or touring one of the other ships in the dock to let him know first hand the difference between the various mixed run (both sails and engines) vessels. He even spent three days going over every part of a dreadnaught that was in drydock.

Nor were his days on board ship always easy. On one occasion, a trainee decided to try the ropes in his spare time. Robert was closest and grabbed his foot as the boy slipped. Someone grabbed him and kept both of them from going over the side. On another occasion, rough weather sent a boy sprawling. Robert was the one to catch him, and curse him for not listening to the instructions on lashing himself to the deck.

It was an easy duty overall, but Robert was learning more about why things were done that way while helping others learn the way things were done.

It was the next to last trip that Robert would make when Captain Grissom gave him specific instructions. He was to choose the most promising lad in the new group. He was to pick his replacement. Robert looked at the latest group. "What is Derek doing?"

Captain Grissom rubbed his chin. "We will find out. DAVERS, send a message ashore before we cast off."


Sub-Lieutenant Robert Somerset was waiting for his replacement to arrive when he spotted himself. "Harry? You are not due for another week?"

"I have been excused from further service," Harry called back, "because of my devotion to duty."

"In God's Good Name, Harry. What did you do?" Captain Grissom shouted as he came to the side.

Harry tried to stand proud, "I rang four bells at the correct time, Captain, simply by reading the stars."

"And?"

"Well . . ."

A black-haired boy almost a head shorter than Harry walked up as the conversation went on and stared at Harry, then at Robert. He noticed the Captain, and saluted, but instead of asking to come aboard he asked to listen to the rest of the conversation.


Davers was talking to the other Seamen about their former trainee. "Three different ships, the officers were publically rebuked, the Dockmaster lost half a year's pay, and that Lieutenant he was assigned to is spending the next two years in private quarters."

"Excuse me, Sir" one of the trainees asked. "What did he do?"

"He sounded the bell."

"No, he did not," another Seaman said. "He gave the order to sound the bell."

"Is that important?" The trainee asked.

Davers shook his head. "No, not at all. But there is one thing that is very important."

"Yes, Sir?"

"You do not call a Seaman Sir. A Seaman, like I am, calls you Sir or Lieutenant and nothing else. Do you understand, laddie?"

"Yes, Sir," the boy said.

Davers looked up into the sky. "I love the new ones."


Captain Sir Mortimer Sheffield waited patiently at the train station for his charges to appear. At the scheduled time, twin boys disembarked, dressed in identical uniforms. Captain Sheffield looked with amusement at the boy with the longer hair.

"Did you seize a ship of your own, Lieutenant?"

Robert grinned. "Yes, but it was one of ours. I was told that it did not count."

Captain Sheffield looked up at the sky. "And I prayed to you Lord to give me a son. I now thank you for three daughters." He turned back to Robert. "I should admit that I know the reason."

Robert shrugged his shoulders. "There is the reason, and the reason given, Captain. The reason is that Someone wants us to be equal in rank because it is convenient, and the reason given is that I saved a life on at least two occasions. I appreciate the promotion but I wish that I had earned it."

"I fully understand, Lord Robert. Saving a life is not important enough."

Robert took exception to the remark. "It was not as though either of them was in any real danger. They were only trainees anyway. One boy was in no danger at all, except starving to death because he could not get himself untangled from the ropes."

Captain Sir Mortimer Sheffield leaned forward, his hands on his knees so that he could look Lieutenant Lord Robert Somerset directly in the eye. "One of those mere trainees was the nephew of the Master at Arms of one of my barracks. He is the reason I am here, and the reason I know about your promotion. Your brother may have influenced the choice of reward but you did earn it. If you disagree, I will arrange to have it revoked."

Robert was cowed. "But these things always happen."

"And they are always rewarded." Captain Sheffield paused. "As I said, your brother was clearly an influence, but your actions were your own. Appreciate your good fortune, and prove it was deserved."

Harry laughed at his brother's embarrassment. "Look on the bright side. It will not make any difference for the next ten months."

"Ahh," Captain Sheffield said, "Reason number two. It will matter. You may not be able to serve on a ship but you can still be trained. Arrangements have been made so that you will receive instruction during the course of the school year. I have been directed to make sure that both of you take your uniforms with you."

Harry remembered a conversation where he was promised that he would have no time to himself if he chose his present course. "Be careful what you wish for," he said to himself.

"Captain, are you here to escort us to the Institute?" both boys asked.

"It is scary," Captain Sheffield admitted, "when the two of you do that. The answer is yes but we must wait for one more arrival." He nodded at the incoming train.

Twenty minutes later, three boys were riding with the Captain to the compound of Kings College. All three were in uniforms, but the third boy was in the uniform of a student at Saint Cathal's Academy.

"We will miss you," Robert said.

"I thought it was a lark," Ernie MacMillan admitted. "Dad kept pushing us about how great everything was, and Mom kept smiling. Then we landed in New England." He looked down at the floor. "Robert, Harry, it isn't my choice. It is not my choice. I have to stay. Mom and Dad are afraid. I could see that. The way they would look at me and my brother and . . . We have to give up magic . . ." He paused, and then continued as though he had rehearsed the line, ". . . but it will be better for all of us."

Captain Sheffield was the one to speak. "That is the problem with duty. You have a responsibility, and the more you think on it, the more you realize how great it is. You have your vassals to think about. They will count on you for good judgement. Your superiors will rely on you to do your share to keep order and promote the general welfare. You have made a difficult choice, My Lord Baron. You have given up your freedom."

"Ernie," Robert commented. "Tell Owen I said hi."

Ernie smiled at the quick change of subject. "I will. Robert, I don't" (contractions, Captain Sheffield reminded him) "do not want to embarrass myself by asking, but what is Owen's rank?"

Robert smiled in a way that caught Harry's attention. "Owen does not have a rank. His father is O'Connell."

Harry smiled. "Half of us in this coach do not understand what you said."

Robert returned the smile. "The short of it is this. Owen's father is one of the three Lords of Ulster. Historically, they do not hold any rank. They are called by their family name. Owen's father is called O'Connell. He is known as the Lord of TyrConnell which is the name of his chief Castle."

"And why is that?" Harry asked.

Robert smiled again. "For Christmas, I will give you a history book."


In 1624, Ano Domini, King John Plantagenet, Second of that Name, entered Ireland at the head of a vast army to conquer the rebels once and for all. His strategy was twofold. He would subjugate each county and area at a time, then raise up a leader who would guarantee loyalty to the crown in exchange for civil liberties. In the south and the west this was effective, but the north stood united against him.

John had only two advantages. He was a young king and untried. No one knew what to expect from him. Also, the rebellion was caused by the prejudicial actions of his father, Henry VII, who was such a poor monarch that there would not be another Henry to wear the crown for almost three hundred years.

John II also had two significant disadvantages. The Polish Empire was rising from the ashes of the collapsed Hunnish Khanates and was making demonstrations in the direction of the German States, which were reminding the Anglo-French Empire of treaty obligations. The second disadvantage were the united clans of Ulster. The three traditional enemies had joined together under a single banner, the Red Hand, and stood across the small valley from him, with an army equal his size and in a better defensive position. The reports claimed that the three chiefs fought as one man.

Owen Roe O'Naill was the commander by agreement. He had fought for the Empire for many years in the Grenada campaigns which stopped the Turkic's advances into Castile. Owen Roe O'Connell was second in command by the fact that he was eight months younger. The third chief, Owen Roe Maguire, was a horseman by nature and commanded the cavalry of the field. He too was a military man, and he knew how to use his horses with deadly efficiency.

John II had men of equal caliber in his army, and his soldiers were better trained, but that was not the point. He may very well have to go from this battle to another battle. The last king who tried doing that died at the hands of John's ancestor, William the First, at a place called Hastings. Instead, John raised the white flag to parlay.

By agreement, six men met in a pavilion hastily erected in the middle of the field: John II, the three Owen Roe's, the bishop of Dublin (who was traveling with the King), and a scribe.

They talked for four days. At the end the following agreement was reached: Ulster, in all its parts, was a loyal part of the Empire; All rights and privileges in Ulster were equal to those in England or France; Ulster also had the right to contest the King's law, by unanimous agreement of the three Lords of Ulster. (Fortunately, how such a contest would be decided has never needed to be determined. Ulster has never exercised this right.)

There was one more significant section. While Ulster would have its share of nobility, the principal nobles, the three Chiefs of Ulster, would have no titles except their clan title. The chief of the O'Connells would be known only as O'Connell. The same was true for O'Naill and Maguire. Also, as Lords of Ulster, they were under no obligation to bow to any man, including the king. The Monarch of the Anglo-French Empire is recognized in Ulster as the first among equals.

The immediate result was that John II was seen as retreating from Ireland after a humiliating tactical and political defeat. But time proved his wisdom. What he had done with this agreement was to set in motion the development of the Codes of Unification, the union of all the parts of the Empire under one common law. What was wrong in Paris was also wrong in York. The court systems could now be united, and standards be set for all the people to follow. In those four days, he had made the Empire into one nation. By the time of his death, John II was, de facto, the most powerful man in Europe. To let three men be permitted to stand in his presence was a small price to pay.

Also, the Irish Lords were true to their word. When the Poles advanced into Saxony the following May, three Irish regiments where there to give aid. Ulster remains always the heart for the defense of the Empire.

One small result of this was that a thirteen-year-old boy was made an officer of rank because he yelled at the third son of The Maguire for not lashing himself to the deck. Maguire, upon hearing of the incident, demanded the boy be rewarded for his 'arrogance in the face of stupidity.' Maguire also refused to permit his third son to apply to the service to be an officer until he first earned the rank of Able Seaman. In short, the boy had to earn the rank from scratch. Lieutenant Lord Robert de Somerset would never know of this.


Harry and Robert looked up with interest. Instead of appearing at Hogwarts as expected, they were in an office with a man they recognized from the Daily Prophet, Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic.

"Well Done," the Minister chortled as they appeared. He smiled at the two boys. "I bet you're both excited to be going back to school in the modern world." He looked at Professor Quirrell. "I don't mean any insult to you by that, Professor, but it must be a change of pace for anyone from your world to come here."

Professor Quirrell gave his friendliest smile. "It is, Minister. There are so many things in your world that are only dreamed of in ours. Too many times our researchers return claiming they have come from the future."

Fudge beamed at the words, and Harry dared to ask a question. "Are many people coming here to study magic?"

Fudge smiled, happy to show off his knowledge. "They are studying more than magic. They're studying muggles as well. I don't mean to be rude but we've always said that everyone was better off with Magic being kept secret, and Professor Quirrell has proven us right. Even the average muggle has more to look forward to than the, um, other world." He noticed Quirrell's uncomfortable look and added. "We're more than happy to let them take advantage of us."

Quirrell seemed to recover his good humor. "It is a generous offer we are truly grateful for. We can advance our knowledge without making any of the mistakes ourselves." He frowned. "I fear for the time, however. There is a train to catch within the hour"

"No need to worry," Fudge said as he called for his aide, "We have a car waiting for you and the boys. You'll be at Kings Cross Station with half an hour to spare."

Quirrell forced a laugh. "I still forget how quickly you can travel in this world. I may never get used to it."

"Always happy to be of service," Cornelius Fudge said, and escorted them from his office.

As they were led to the waiting car, Robert asked a question of his own. "Professor, you said that there were MANY researchers in this world. How many researchers went to our world?"

"None," Quirrell answered. "We are not advanced enough for them. Why spend an hour over a cauldron when you can do the same thing with a flick of the wand. Instead, we are getting tourists. They claim to be researchers, but they are researching how people entertain themselves." He paused. "There are some. Dumbledore took his research to heart while he stayed with us. He even foreswore his wand to learn our methods of magic. He did well in the two science classes he sat in on. When he offered to take the practicals, we were quite surprised at his skill." Quirrell sighed. "But he is the rare egg."

"Are there no others?" Harry was as surprised at Robert that the information exchange would be so one-sided.

"There is a Doctor Pantely who is studying with the healers. When it comes to trying to learn about our world, they are the only two. There was also that man, MacMillan, but you know about him."

Harry and Robert nodded. "We met Ernie when we arrived in Cambridge."

Professor Quirrell smiled. "I love when the two of you do that. It reminds me that you are truly twins."

Both boys blushed.


"Harry." Hermione rushed forward and gave Robert a hug, a feat made difficult by the fact that she was holding a cat at the time. "I like the way you're wearing your hair. It doesn't stand out all over the place any more."

"It was Robert's idea," Robert said. "And in exchange I taught him how to develop a scar."

Hermione smirked as she realized her mistake. "Then I'll have to hug you again. Welcome back, Robert."

Harry was grinning as he said, "Hello, Hermione."

"Hi, Harry." She slid her free arm around Robert's arm and walked with him toward the partition to Platform 9 3/4. "How did you manage to win your rank? You must have done something wonderful."

"Harry," Ron called out, as he and the Weasleys came walking up to the platform.

Shortly he was surrounded by the entire family. Mrs. Weasley came up and made him spin around in place so she could admire his uniform. "You look like a young gentleman, Harry. And where is that brother of yours?"

Harry pointed to the partition. "Robert went ahead with Hermione. I think they like each other."

"Well, let's go meet him," Arthur Weasley insisted. "I have dozens of questions I want to ask him."

Fred leaned forward to whisper to Harry. "Dad found out that muggles and wizards live side by side in your world."

"Remind me to warn Robert," Harry said, as they both laughed.

"Come on, come on." Arthur Weasley insisted. "You don't want to miss the train."

"We've still got a half hour," Molly Weasley insisted but ushered everyone toward the partition anyway.

"Harry, I've got a new wand," Ron said proudly, showing it to his friend. "Dad got it for me after he won the lottery. And then we spent the entire holiday in Egypt visiting Bill." Ron pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet which showed the entire Weasley clan, including Ron's rat Scabbers, standing in front of one of the Pyramids. "How was your holiday?"

"It was fun," Harry answered. "I spent six weeks sailing on the Mediterranean."

Ginny Weasley made a small noise and when Harry looked at her she blushed and said, "It sounds wonderful. What was it like?"

Harry gave her a wry smile. "I was on the night detail. It was too dark to see anything."

Mrs. Weasley gave a cry of outrage. "They made you work? How could they? Those people have no decency. The Daily Prophet was right. They are simply backward barbarians."

"That isn't fair, dear," Arthur counseled. "They simply aren't as advanced as we are. We'll teach them proper."

"It is not like that," Harry insisted strongly. "I have to learn, and I am learning how to run a ship by actually doing it."

"I didn't mean it like that, dear. But they made you stay up all night."

"I did get to sleep all day," Harry said defensively, but for some reason Mrs. Weasley's remarks hurt him. None of the people he met seemed backward or barbaric. If anything they seemed more civilized and educated that most people he met in this world. He walked through the partition without saying anything else.

"Don't mind Mum," George said as Harry came through to the platform. "The Daily Prophet has stories every day about that other world. They always point out how nobody can fly or apparate. They say it's because they mix with muggles all the time. It holds them back."

Harry nodded. "We had to appear in the Minister's office. He said almost the same thing. George, your mum has it wrong. They are not backward. They took a different path."

An official looking man walked up to them. "No loitering. All of you students, get your things on the train. Hurry up now."

As Harry helped the Weasley's with their trunks he asked George if he knew what was going on.

"It seems one of our evil wizards escaped from prison. Someone who is after you."

"You didn't know, Harry?" Ron asked.

"He was on a boat, Ron," Arthur Weasley reminded his son. He glanced at Molly who was lecturing Ginny, and whispered, "You can tell him all about it once you get settled."

With that, he rushed everyone aboard the train. The only adult to join them was Professor Quirrell, who had remained so silent during Harry's conversation with the Weasleys that he seemed to have disappeared.

Professor Quirrell saw the group of students to a compartment, and politely excused himself, taking the compartment next to them. They settled down, and Ron immediately asked, "How was it? Being on the boat, I mean."

"It was a ship," Harry said testily.

"Sorry. Dad keeps calling it a boat. What was it like?"

Harry paused. "It was a lot of work. And not all of it good."

"Harry was set under a lacker of an officer," Robert explained.

Hermione smirked at the word Robert used. "I assume a lacker is someone who lacks what it takes."

Boy boys shook their heads. Robert explained, "In a sense you are correct. A lacker is someone who acts as though what he is required to do is not his job. It refers to a lack of rank. The person in question does not have the authority to pass on the duty to someone else. Such people are usually harmless unless you are directly under them," Robert looked at his brother, "as Harry was."

"How bad was it?" Hermione asked.

"He had me do his duties when things were slow enough for me to handle it." Harry was half smirking. "On my last day he even made me officer on deck."

"That's supposed to be good, isn't it?" Ron asked.

Robert nodded. "Except that Harry was on board as Third Mate, not as an Officer of Rank. An unranked officer, a midshipman, may not command the deck if an Officer is on board the ship. Harry was supposed to refuse."

"And?" Hermione asked.

Harry smirked. "I was removed from the ship once the Captain found out, although I was cleared at my disciplinary hearing. It seems I am an Officer of Rank, on paper at least."

Harry told them the entire story, explaining how he is now an embarrassment to His Royal Majesty's Navy.


The Lord Seneschal stood before His Majesty, John IV. "They have returned, Your Majesty. Professor Quirrell is on board the train as well. He should be able to remove them if there are any problems."

"And Lord MontClaire?"

The Lord Seneschal looked bemused. "He is adapting well. He has an eagerness to prove himself. I must admit my thinking was faulty in my original suggestion but he seems of suitable character. His father has also forwarded his plans for his son's Barony."

John IV knew his chief advisor and friend very well. The idea of bestowing nobility on Lord Robert's friend was a good one on the surface. It was to show magnanimity to someone who had acted on behalf of the Empire. That was before the reality of the other world made itself known. That world was apparently more advanced in scientific research, to the point that even those with the slightest talent could perform spells. It also appeared that the 'muggles,' those without talent, had developed the physical sciences, which were considered useless in the Empire, to an advanced level. By comparison, the Anglo-French Empire was a backwater. Yet here was the crux of the matter. The parents of the Baron of MontClaire embraced the chance to live in the Empire, taking their children to a life that was difficult by comparison. And the father, as caretaker of the barony, was now asking the crown to approve his plans.

"Are they proof of genius or feeble attempts to curry favor?"

"Neither, Your Majesty. Goodman MacMillan has clearly done his homework. From books in his own world he knows what assets the barony holds, and he wishes to develop them. His plans are simple and direct. He wishes to exploit the maritime bounty that his son's fief has to offer. His greatest need is to build a port for trading ships once his fisheries are in order."

His Majesty nodded in surprise. There was no ulterior motive in the plans. Goodman MacMillan was taking his position seriously.

"Inform him that we will need estimates of cost before final approval. Also inform him that he should revise his plans for the port to account for a naval presence. His Majesty's ships make frequent visits to all ports of industry."

"As you command, Your Majesty."


"I call him Crookshanks," Hermione told Harry. "He's a wonderful cat."

"He's a pain," Ron responded rudely. "She only bought him because he attacked Scabbers."

"Crookshanks didn't know Scabbers was a friend," Hermione retorted.

"Right," Ron said. If nothing else, it explained why they were sitting on opposite sides of the compartment.