Part 17 - 1807-1809 Mediterranean Sea - anglo turkish war
So, the Napolianic wars. A series of stupid, brutal wars that threatened to tear Europe, and maybe the world itself, apart. After the events of Paris I decided it was time to return home to England. My only issue at this time was that I didn't actually have what you might call a fixed place of residence, having been away serving for so long, and having sold my house in London, putting my possessions into storage. Yes, I owned several properties, but these were all rented out, so I didn't really have anywhere to stay. Therefore I decided I should go and pay a visit to my actual home.
To be fair, it turned out to be something of a wasted journey for me, the river Avon was still flowing and the castle still stood in place, a magnificent building even by the standards of newer buildings of Southern England and France. The town had expanded, of course, the way everything was expanding and I found it quite difficult to maintain my oath of never feeding on local blood.
I was sitting in a tavern nursing a flagon of ale, wondering where I could try next. Nottingham was nice, I had enjoyed my visits there, and there were always the more Northern towns, especially now that the fighting with the scots seemed to be a thing of the past. I had heard of new machines being put to work in places like Liverpool and Manchester, replacing the greatly skilled people who made everything from clothing to weapons. Factories were beginning to appear everywhere and the transport system was improving rapidly with an actual network of roads helping people to move around. I have even heard talk of a new form of transport, a train. It was said to have an engine propelled by steam, and while many mocked and sneered at this idea, I found it fascinating. The fact was that I had already seen so much, so why couldn't such a thing exist?
I noticed a stranger had sat down opposite me, his swift appearance startled me out of my daydream. He was hooded, his face hidden in deep shadow, and he carried with him an odour that betrayed him. He was one of my kind. Surely he had sniffed me out too, and was now going to challenge me as I was on his turf. I was determined to let him lead. If there had to be a bloodbath here tonight, then so be it, but I would rather avoid that outcome.
"Do you visit here often?" Came the gruff voice from under the hood. There was something familiar about that voice.
"Sir, it has been many a year since I passed this way." I kept my voice neutral while I worked on dredging my mind for the source of the voice.
"Ah, yes, so it must be you then... Castor?" He asked, voice still low, eyes peering out of the dark.
"Good sir, might I ask where you have heard this name?" I was trying to play my cards close to my chest. Damn, it was not easy, curiosity was engulfing me.
"As your superior officer, I made it my duty not to forget." He lifted back his hood and grinned a brilliant grin. It couldn't possibly be, but it was. Lambert was the last name I knew him by, but there had been others such as Mentieth and Matteson. He still had that fire in his eyes. When we had been made all those years ago there had been a theory that our leader was older than us, from some higher standard of life, and while we never asked and he never told us, it seemed that he was a being on a higher level than most. And here he was, smiling at me over a tankard of ale.
His face was just as devilish as before, and his smile was just as dazzling, taking me back to those days so many years before, but now I could see why his hood had been up. One eye still held a fire of a million suns, the other was a dead orb, filled with sour milk. I wanted to ask about the eye but couldn't bring myself to, so instead I blurted out the obvious. "What have you been doing all these years?"
He laughed, an infectious, throaty laugh which made me chuckle just a little. "Well Castor, I could tell you my story but it would probably take a few days. I've been in and out of history somewhat, trying to keep track on my boys but you all proved so elusive. I had heard you lost your head in Italy?"
I tugged my collar nervously. "Ah, that, well that was a long story, suffice to say I know now why our kind are burned as well as decapitated." He grinned. "So why are you here? Last I saw you it was kings and succession?"
His face flattened with seriousness. "As I said, my story is indeed a long one, but what you need to know is this. I now go by the Name Wellesley. I joined the Kings army and fought in America when the Colonists decided they were too good for our rule." I nodded my head sagely. "You were there too? Pity, I could've used a good man such as yourself." He drank deeply from his tankard. "When I returned home I was told my services were no longer required, but the Revolution over in France opened a door for me and I joined the navy. Whatever it is I'm doing it must be pleasing someone because they want to give me my own ship." My mouth was hanging wide. He was always so far ahead of the rest of us. "To put it bluntly, I'm recruiting. I'm on leave right now, and I thought I should come here, as I do as often as I can, and try to find someone worthy of the task." He waved a hand in my direction.
"At your service Captain." Was all I could manage before hurling back the remains of my flagon. Finally, a cause.
Then, as I stood, a thought struck me. His hand was extended across the table for me to shake, but I simply stared at it. "Wait just a moment." I said, suspiciously.
He froze, eyeing me with extreme caution. "Yes?"
"it occurs to me," my voice was low and even, "that the last time I saw you, you were quite intent on killing me and the rest of the team." I finished with a low growl but my anger was short lived when I saw the smile crack his ancient face.
"Ha ha, yes that was a tense time now, wasn't it." He chuckled to himself. "That was a long time and a great deal of kings ago. Rest assured I need you now."
His words had done the trick and I nodded slowly. "Very well." I was calm again.
"I had been meaning to ask, when the moment arose," he started "but where are the others? Do you think they would be up for this adventure?"
"Well I saw Smith meet his demise in Italy when I almost met mine." I rubbed my neck out of habit. "As for Williams, I have neither seen, nor heard from him since the mid 1700's. He was in a spiral of self loathing then, and I didn't wish to see his demise."
His face was grave, almost regretful for a moment until he spoke again. "And Lenster?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. He was with us in Italy, and I saw him take off when things got out of hand. Not heard of him since, so he's either underground or dead I suppose." I said grimly. Thinking of my friends did not fill me with happy thoughts, so I decided I should go hunting. "Well, I shall see you in Southampton on Friday." I said, now taking his hand and shaking. This felt like the right thing to do, and he seemed different now. More level headed.
And so I found myself on a ship in the middle of the Mediterranean sea, Turkish cannon fire blasting all about and the men onboard scrambling for their lives. In honesty I was never great at sea but our captain had come up with an idea that kept me occupied.
While he could not show his face on deck during the day when the sun was out I suffered no such disadvantage. I was also known for my long distance aim, so I had been placed in the crows nest with a quiver of arrows and a sack of ammo. When the enemy drew close enough to identify I was taking shots at them, causing general panic. My new rifle was perfect, long and slender with more accurate sights than ever before. I was finding myself needing to compensate for wind more and more as I pulled off long range kills like never before.
But of course the real talking point of this little boat ride was one Alan 'Taffy' Walters. A burly Welshman with a thick brown beard and hair down his back. When we first met he tried to crush my hand when he shook it. From the start I knew there was something strange about him, and I was proven correct when we boarded a Turkish vessel one night and were confronted by a few hundred Turks. While I barred my teeth he leapt into the air, shedding his clothes, landing on deck on all fours. All four feet. He had changed into a massive wolf with thick black hair and burning eyes. Between us we chewed up the Turkish crew in no time.
It wouldn't be long before Napolean was coming after us.