Chapter 7
The Captain's cabin was hardly of grandiose proportions, but compared to the chicken-coop-like conditions found in the midshipmen's birth it seemed to have the capacious feel of an abandoned mansion and Lorna could see her fellow mess mates glancing furtively about them with jealous eyes. It was strange, she reflected, how attached one could get to the Spartan comforts the Indy. The opulent existence she had enjoyed in Ireland seemed extravagant and wasteful now
The ceiling was low and beamed and it took most of the men's concentration on back-hunching not to not knock themselves out. She mentally praised the Lord who had watched her birth that she had not grown past 5"3.
The officer's shuffled uncomfortably around the Captain's desk, each craning for a better view of the map weighted before them. It showed the English Channel in all its glory, flooding between the inked shores of Britain and France, from the icy Atlantic above. Even on paper it was a fantastic sight. Pellew cleared his throat.
"Gentleman," the babble of excited voices gently faded as the Captain began to speak. "As you may have gathered from my former announcement to the crew, we are under orders to set sail at last. We are at war, and his Majesty King George and his Admiralty has deployed the fleet.
"We are not planned for any pre-designed conflict, but are merely to beat up and down the channel in search of the enemy and in the event of such an encounter we are to act accordingly and aggressively. There is said to be action reported particularly around the shore battery of Blaine and that, gentlemen, is where we are first headed."
The excitement was palpable, as they were dismissed. Tout rushed to their stations to prepare for getting underway.
"Man the capstan!"
"Loose the Tops'ls!" The orders rang out all around as the ship was transformed. Leisurely duties became den's of energy as sails were loosed and billowed free above Lorna's head as great walls of canvas swelling in the breeze and the great weight of the anchor appeared from the sea like a great demon releasing them from the port. They were leaving - the corpulent wooden bowels of the ship flying of the waves with the grace of a great swan. And all faces were turned to the bows as every man searched the horizon for their destiny.
*
"To sea at last, eh?" Archie's smile didn't seem to reach his eyes, but Lorna and Horatio were too excited to heed it. The crew had been in a state of riotous glee for most of the night now, and many of the mids had given up on sleep.
"Yes! To fight for your country and maybe even die for it, what greater and more divine cause is there on earth?" The laughter was simultaneous and uproarious. Horatio simply looked bewildered. "What did I say?" Lorna could barely reply between wheezes.
"Trust you… Horatio… to be… so… damned… noble! And the worst… thing is… that," Lorna paused to draw in a few fortifying breaths, as Archie calmed himself to a chuckle. "You mean it!" She gave him an apologetic smile as Horatio turned very pink and looked discernibly ruffled. He puffed out his chest to retaliate.
"And would you not die for such a worthy thing?" The laughter stopped and Lorna's tilted grin graced her features once more.
"Dear Horatio, it is a noble thing to fight for your country, but believe me I have no intention of dying for it and neither should you! What use are you to the navy as a dead hero? Or for that matter a pious cynic! And I'm a catholic that's talking." She poked him markedly in the chest. Horatio gave a few uncertain shakes of the head before conceding the point, and allowing himself a sheepish smile. "That's better!" The distant tolling of the ship's bell could be heard through the decks. Horatio sighed.
"I'm afraid it's my watch, sirs. I'll see you later." It was dutiful footsteps that bore him away. Lorna looked at her remaining companion.
"What's up Archie, you look pensive?" She was serious now. Archie paused a few seconds before replying.
"Does he really mean it, Jamie?" Archie's voice was quiet. "How can he talk so, be so brave? How can you? I think on battle and death and… and I… I'm afraid Jamie. Ashamed to admit it I am afraid!" He turned away from her, shame-faced. " I'm a coward. Surrounded by men like you, can I be anything less? How can you not feel fear!" His voice was anguished. "Why can I not feel fear!"
Lorna sat in stunned silence for a good few minutes, and it was with a soft voice that she spoke.
"Archie… No one cannot feel fear, not least I! Fear is something inescapable and as necessary to our lives as oxygen. With fear comes caution, with fear of others and ourselves we will win this war!" She paused, carefully choosing her words. "You must not dwell on fear and death. Do not imagine it nor question it and you will not fear it. Imagination is a gift to be used for better things, Archie. Horatio may not fear the devil, but he sure as hell fears his God and his King" She looked him in his eyes. "Courage is not a lack of fear, just a means to control it. . And Archie? A man who cannot feel fear or hate, cannot truly feel happiness or love…" The ship's bell signalled her turn on the watch. She turned at the curtain and smiled at him. "You, sir, are nought but a hop'less romant'c"
Archie did not speak of his confession to Lorna, when Horatio returned, nor of Lorna's Irish accent. The conversation was of reefs and tackles as above on deck Lorna began the monotonous pacing along the great frigate as it ploughed onward on an inky sea towards an ever approaching dawn. And her mind was restless with thoughts:
What am I afraid of? I can't remember having felt fear. No fear of my father, no fear for my mother as she left to be with God, no fear of God as the priest's sermons intoned of his great power and terrifying glory and no fear now. Nothing. I must fear something! Can I be the one to feel nothing, no love? I MUST fear something!