Chapter 22: A Plot Revealed
In all the years I had lived, I had never felt happier in my life. I was at sea. I was on a ship with my best mates. I had my mind set on a destination, and I was madly in love with the most beautiful young man in the world.
And he was in love with me.
Bennett never told anyone about the oasis I found. I suggested he reconsider, for the men were in frightful need of a bath, but he strongly defended otherwise. And his reason was more selfish than sweet. He wanted to keep the knowledge of the watering hole between us only for reasons he did not elaborate on. I could already guess what he was thinking anyway.
But as soon as our crew was re-supplied and ready for sea once again, the freedom we had to be with each other was decreased to a number barely above zero. Astrid Sparrow had to be a boy again and Bennett had to go back to be his proper, midshipman self. We had escaped the burdens of ship life for a few days, but it had managed to remind us that life on a British man-of-war did not equal freedom. Though, living pirate did.
Once we set sail, I found it difficult to stay around my band of mates without gazing up at the clouds and losing myself with girlish daydreams. Sometimes they would even have to snap their fingers in front of my face in order for me to pay attention and it wasn't just the ship's boys who noticed. Roland and Dobbin would look at me queerly and when Doctor Cavanaugh was teaching all of us on the quarterdeck and all I wanted to do was send quick glances at Bennett, the poor doctor had trouble getting me to stay focused. I knew it was a stupid thing to do. But I couldn't help it. Bennett seemed to have an easy time ignoring his true relationship with me. I seriously needed to control myself better.
I did notice though, that the lieutenants were beginning to give me specific orders. Such as recording information discussed at meetings and sometimes sending me to take their spyglass and look in a certain direction and then tell them what I saw. The orders were not really chores like swabbing the decks or splicing a line or helping Mister Cooke cook. The things they had me do actually left me with some new knowledge.
But through it all, Bennett and I tried our best to stay as friends on board the ship. But the lad obviously could not do it, despite the fact that he seemed so calm around me. He summoned for me one time and I expected it to be just a normal order, which it partly was. He handed me a paper addressed to the captain, but before letting me leave, he quietly whispered that he wanted us to meet at the rope locker. I already knew why.
For being such a chivalrous and decent lad, the boy could get carried away at times. But I never let him do anything that would put a permanent mark on my virtue. And he never argued when I told him I had had enough. Besides, I knew what would happen if I let him do what he wished, and I was in no position (or age) to be doing such. Bennett and I remained a good boy and girl… mostly.
We always had to be wary of our interaction though. We could never be together too long, or someone would be bound to notice our disappearance. And we still had to do our duty together, despite how enticing it would be to be doing "other" duty and we still had to keep in touch with our mates, who were very well aware that something was up, but didn't know what. I was certain that Roland knew what was going on, and he would even joke around with Bennett sometimes about, well, that. And he seemed to give me a little more friendly reminders to watch what I was doing, and I always told him I was.
But frankly, I was putting myself in more danger than I had predicted.
"Sail ho!" cried a sailor. "Two points off starboard bow!" I stood beside Lieutenant Johnson, for he had called me to his assistance that morning when we were on watch. Bennett was always keeping an eye out for me whenever I had to be close to some of the men. But Lieutenant Johnson was a civilized and respectable man, and nor was he a barking tyrant like Lieutenant Thorne.
"Barlow," he said, pulling out his spyglass and handing it to me. "Report what you see back to me." He nodded and I gave a salute before making my way from the quarterdeck to the bow of the ship.
"Where?" I asked the sailor who sat aloft in the foremast's rigging.
"Two points off starboard bow, sir. P'raps less than two miles." I nodded with a furrowed brow. The man had just called me 'sir.' But I shrugged it off and remembered my duty and put my eye close to the lens of the spyglass and slowly moved it left to right in the direction the sailor pointed.
And… there! A ship, two, maybe three decks. Definitely a ship-of-the-line with possibly seventy guns, which was more than the ones of the Resolve. The flag I couldn't see, but by design, I assumed a Spanish ship, which would mean an enemy ship. But wait…
The hull was gray. And the sails were… black? … No, they had some paleness to them.
Yet…
I turned around and came back to Lieutenant Thorne and told him what I saw with as much detail as I could recall. He pressed his lips together and called Roland to inform the captain. "What is your decision, sir?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. I wasn't even sure if what I saw was the Black Pearl.
"Good work, Barlow," he said, not addressing my question fully. "We shall beat to quarters. To your stations. Quickly." All I could do was nod and leave to get to my post at Lonan's gun.
I had asked Bennett to tell the captain that Griffith had changed his orders, for I was assigned to Doctor Cavanaugh during battle. But the captain approved Griffith's change of order and so I was stuck serving Lonny.
As I headed below, a hand grabbed my arm, and I was about to slam my fist into whoever did it when I saw that it was Bennett who had stopped me. "Take care, Jack," he said, and I smiled and gave his hand a firm squeeze.
"You too, sir." And we went our separate ways.
I had gone down into the magazine and retrieved the gun cartridges and powder before any other ship's boy and Lonan was ready to pull the cord on his cannon, but we were never given the signal to fire. The ship didn't even come abrest of our ship.
The men began to murmur as to what was going on when Lieutenant Thorne stormed down and ordered all the midshipmen manning their gun crews to get above deck where the captain was waiting for us. And by Thorne's shouts, I knew something was wrong. "You!" he bellowed, pointing a finger at me. I gulped. After all, I was the one who had seen the ship and informed Johnson about it. Dammit, Astrid. "With me." He seized my arm and dragged me up the stairs to the main deck where all the officers were waiting for me. Oh dear God, help me.
"Barlow," said the captain grimly. "Here." He pointed at a spot in front of his feet and Thorne pushed me forward. I did as I was told.
"Y-Yes, sir?" I said, keeping my head low.
"Tell me exactly what you spotted through Lieutenant Johnson's spyglass," he ordered.
"I saw a three-masted ship, sir. At least two decks. Perhaps up to seventy guns. The hull was black, seemingly built in the style of the Spanish. The sails were harder to collect, sir. It seemed to be black in some spots, pale in others. I wasn't sure. I'm sorry if I was mistaken, sir. I just did as I was told and—"
"I did not ask for your apology, Barlow," he said. "But your words did depict the ship spotted; only now the ship has suddenly vanished." Vanished? I looked up and saw that his face was less harsh and the corners of his mouth even seemed to be forming into a smile. "Some of the men doubted Johnson's word, but you have supported him justly." He nodded and that was my signal to leave and I was happy to. I thought I was going to get flogged.
Bennett and I were on the Middle Watch, in our usual spot at the mizzen top. He sat beside me, holding my hand, and my head rested on his shoulder as we watched in silence for anything out in the calm black sea. We were very safe up there, being covered by the mizzen topsail and being in the dark; most men would rather be sleeping than spying on anyone. So we were ensured a short time together.
"Jack," he whispered, letting go of my hand and wrapping an arm around me. "Are you awake?" I barely was, but I answered yes, and I felt him press his lips into my hair.
"What's on yer mind, Bennie?" I asked, for I knew he had something to say just by his tone of voice. I knew the lad too well.
"Jack," he began, moving aside a bit so that I sat upright and faced him. "I've… I've been meaning to tell you something." It was hard for the words to come out of his mouth and he couldn't even hold his stare on me when he said it.
"What is it, Bennett?" He shook his head and didn't continue with his original thought. He said he'd tell me later that day. He promised he would.
I would have demanded to know, being a rather fussy bonnie lass, but he knew me as well as I knew him and brought my hand up to his lips, kissing it gently, which calmed me back into silence.
"All right," I said. "This afternoon. That will be the only time I'll be listening, so make it count." I brushed my lips against his cheek and then one more time on his mouth before four bells were rung, signaling the end of our watch.
When I got down to my hammock for some sleep and settled in with John lying opposite me, I immediately drifted off into a wild mess of dreams. It wasn't a dream that flowed well like all the ones I had had of Jack. No. These dreams were disorganized and random, spinning my mind off in so many directions. Sound was even muffled and I couldn't figure out what anybody was saying. But there were many voices for sure—all male—speaking.
I found myself at a beach, but the water was red and the sky was black and the sand was grey like ashes. And in the dimly flickering horizon, I saw the silhouette of a man, standing with his back facing me. Was it Jack? It could have been, but the blazing sun on the fading horizon seemed like a dying candle, and it was losing light fast and the silhouette of the man began to become one with the black sky. "Jack!" My voice waved through the air like an echo, clinging to its sound until he vanished before I could reach him. And instead of lunging forward and falling back onto the sand, I lunged forward and felt something fall over my head and neck and catch me.
I was hanging.
And I seemed to be hanging from what seemed to be nothing. Just a rope tightening around my neck and choking me in the dark. The voices came again. And my screams joined them. I screamed out names of people I could scarcely remember. Mum, Dad, Adam… I shouted for Bennett, Dobbin, Andre… Roland…
Then suddenly the rope gave way and I fell, feeling my feet suddenly heavy with a new weight. And now I couldn't move my arms. My screams were stopped with an invisible gag and no matter how wide I opened my mouth, nothing came out. Nothing. And I fell into a pool, feeling myself sink. And no one was there to save me.
The water seemed to rush up my nose and any other opening as I was surrounded with pressure and I thought I was crying. Was I crying? I didn't know. And when I thought all was lost, there was one voice that penetrated through the rest, calling, "Jack!"
I woke with a gasp and a swinging arm that was caught by the one who woke me.
"John," I breathed, feeling sweat pour from my brow. "What?"
"We're changin' watches, mate. Best get up. And ye might wanna get some grog in ye too. Yer shaking." He left to probably get his breakfast and I smothered my face with my hands, wiping off the sweat and taking in deep breaths.
But I got up and did my duty.
I ran into another mess with Lonan that day. During the drills, I was so shaky that I dropped the cartridges and delivered the powder messily, spilling some on him, and Griffith was the commander of the division and therefore marched up to me during the drill and gave Lonan the right to gave me switched. My whole body froze with horror as Lonan jerked my arm and pulled me to gun number six to have my trousers pulled down and my ass whipped. I saw Griffith looking pleased at what was about to happen and he even looked eager to finally see me whipped and discovered. The bastard even licked his lips.
Lonan gave a nod at Griffith who simply said for him to carry on and Lonan pushed me to the gun and made be bend over it. "Won't this jus' be a fine bottom to flog, lads?" he taunted, and I felt his hand on my waist reaching to unbutton the trousers when he was stopped by an order.
"Cancel it," said Griffith. "I think he's learned his lesson. His eyes show nothing but fear." Griffith came forward and Lonan moved aside to let him pass as I pushed my stomach off the barrel of the gun. "I assure you, he won't do it again," he said, looking at me. He took another step closer and pushed my chest. "Isn't that right, Jack?"
"Y-Yes, sir," I stammered before rushing passed him and his sorry lot of mates. More sweat collected at the edges of my forehead and my head was swimming. I was safe for a while but now I was stuck in the water and the sharks circling me had finally developed an appetite.
During our leisure time, I met Bennett in the midshipmen's berth and he led me to the second gun deck where he sat opposite me at a table between two guns. He didn't seem too happy either and I was about to tell him about my run-in with Lonan and Griffith when he reminded me of the words he promised to tell me.
"Jack," he said, resting the side of his head on a propped up fist. He wouldn't look at me. "There's something I think you—no, I know you should be aware of what I am about to tell you. And I've put it off for far too long now." I had not a clue as to what he was talking about.
"The thing is, Jack… I… I don't normally interact with ship's boys on voyages. From the first time I was on a ship, I never in my whole time in the Navy spoke to a ship's boy except to assign him an order. Call me a nob if you will, but it was not something I found necessary. They were below me, and so I treated them as such."
"What are you trying to say, Mister Bennett?" I asked, wondering why on earth he would be telling me this. He pressed his lips together, trying to find the right words but failing. "Bennett," I began but he was still left mute.
"I'm sorry, Jack…," he said at last. "I…"
"My, what's this, Bennett?" laughed an intruder. The unwelcome guest came from the side and placed a hand on the edge of the table, leaning on it as he faced me. "You finally are telling Jackaroe here our little secret?" Secret? I thought. What the hell is going on! I was about to rise and push him off but he sat down beside Bennett giving his clearly depressed friend a hard nudge.
"Griffith, don't—" started Bennett but Griffith looked at me with greed in his eye and his mouth half smirking.
"Shut up, Bennett," he barked. "I'll tell Jacky here what's truly been going on and it'll save you the trouble of stuttering the simple words yourself."
"Bennett, what is this bastard talking about?" I asked, turning to Bennett and reaching out for his hand, but Griffith caught it and examined my fingers. I couldn't pull away.
"So it's true what you've been telling me, Gareth," said Griffith, still looking at me with his burning blue eyes. "Young Jacky here is not what he seems, now is he?" What! I rose from my seat, looking at both of them with widening, worried and hurt eyes.
"Oh yes, Jackaroe," mocked Griffith. "Bennett here has been telling me everything about you from the beginning. I had him get to know you better so that he could regurgitate the information back to me."
Oh, Bennett, no, no, no, no!
"And Lonan was another of my spies because I knew there were some things Bennett wouldn't be willing to do to you. Such as, say, touch you where you don't want to be touched." His eyes glanced downwards and then back up. "And Lonny filled the gap quite well." My eyes were welling as I looked from Griffith's sinister countenance to Bennett's lowered head and clenched fist.
"I know everything about you, Jack. Everything. The lies. The truth. I told you I had my spies everywhere and that I'd figure you out one day, Jack. And you can be certain that I am well informed of the person behind the manly name."
He rose and leaned forward so that he and I were nose to nose, me wanting nothing but to kill him and him probably wanting something else that I refused to think of. "All… because… of… dear… Bennett," he breathed onto my face.
My heart sank in my chest and I cowered away from Griffith and ran away from them both, shielding my face with my arm as I ran to any place of refuge. I bit my lip to keep myself from sobbing, but the tears were already well down my face, dripping from my eyes in invisible misery.
Bennett didn't follow. I didn't even hear him call me back in the slight possibility that I would forgive him but he stayed behind with his wicked, sick-minded master. Without a word of support or friendship coming from his mouth. Not one.
I loved you, Bennett, you stupid, lying, two-faced bastard! I told you so much and you sold it to that sad excuse for a man for nothing and with no shame. How could you! You betrayed me, you reeking piece of shit. Roland was right. Dobbin was right. They were all right about you. It doesn't come down to friendship and love when things get grim. No, by God, it doesn't. It comes down to your pride. Your stupid, unassailable pride. Damn you to the deepest pits of hell, Bennett! Damn you! To hell with your precious pride! That's all you really cared about… That was all you really loved…
The empty shores of Egypt lied alongside our moving ship, braving the untamed waves of the blue sea with its own endless ocean of heat and choking sand. Wind was growing powerless and the casual breezes that would often sweep by were becoming a rarity. We were losing our wind while entering a territory crawling with Napoleon's ships and troops, and Captain Carlisle had switched sights from the Pearl to evident battle.
Without a doubt, I knew Griffith was certain of who I really was, all because of Backstabbing Bennett. But surprisingly, despite the new bit of news he learned, he spoke not a word of it to anyone. He didn't reveal me for a woman in front of the entire crew. He did not report me to the captain. He even stayed out of my way.
Lonan too.
And so I was beginning to suspect that a different scheme was arising in Victor Griffith's evil little mind, but he did nothing to prove it. If he had something on his mind, he would have done it, and I remained so safe that I suspected I was in the worse danger one could ever put oneself in. And during drills he did not push me around or bark at me for being a bit slow. It was as if peace was finally made. But I doubted it.
Needless to say, as soon as Roland and Dobbin found out about my brawl with Bennett, the two did not hesitate to give the lad hell. Things in the midshipmen's berth were beginning to lose control. Fights were breaking out, which I knew were ignited by Dobbin or Roland in revenge for Bennett betraying me.
I was certain though, that I had just made things worse on the ship, for now the lads were actually fighting, and they were just petty fights for now—many of which were blamed on by alcohol, but it would only be a matter of time before the quarrels grew large enough to attract the attention of the captain and his officers.
And now I had possible mutiny to plague my thoughts. And it came ever so slowly to my attention that the fights, the curses, the trouble, the bad blood brewing on the ship, were the results of my being there. If I had never come on board, I would have never challenged Griffith. And Griffith would have never asked Bennett to spy for me. And Bennett and I would have never become friends. And Roland would have never gotten angry with me for siding with Bennett. And Bennett and I would have never fallen in love. And the lads would have never started fighting.
Perhaps I should have deserted a long time ago, I thought. But it was far too late to do anything about it. All I had to do was continue with everyday life and keep my mind focused on Jack.
For a time, I managed to complete all my orders with speed, agility and in most occasions, full obedience, but after a while, I began to feel tired. Even after simply climbing down from the main royal yard, my feet hit the deck with fatigue and I didn't know why I was getting so exhausted. And after the first time it happened, I thought it was because I just didn't get enough sleep.
But it happened often, and I could no longer deny that I was all right. Something was indeed wrong with me.
None of the other men were experiencing any sign of weakness. It was just me. So I assumed it must have been something that women only contracted but I had no sure way to find out since I was the only woman on board. And I thought things were already bad enough.
I had figured to tell Cavanaugh about my ailments, but then if it was some disease that only women could get, then I would be discovered and currently, the Resolve was my only mean of staying on the sea. And I was in no mood to leave, but I had a bad feeling time was running out for me before Griffith finally spilled the truth of Jack Barlow really being Astrid Turner Sparrow.
"Dammit," I muttered, leaning my cheek in the palm of my hand. I shut the fifth medical book I had taken from Cavanaugh's collection in hopes of finding a name behind all my symptoms and obtaining a cure by myself, but I could find nothing that fit my condition.
I became tired easily. I'd have aches in my joints. My mouth was sore and it was difficult for me to chew the ship's hardtack anymore for fear of more of my teeth falling out, and I couldn't think straight. But there was no name for all those symptoms. Had I caught something entirely new?
"Barlow," said a voice. I raised my head from my hand and looked up to see Third Lieutenant Kempe at the doorway of Cavanaugh's office. I blinked away the dryness in my eyes as I faced him.
"Yes, sir," I said, still sitting in my seat, though any good sailor would have known to stand when an officer came in.
"Captain Carlisle wishes to see you. Quickly now, sir," he said. There it was again. The men were calling me 'sir' and I had no idea of why they would. Was I not just a stupid ship's boy?
I closed my book and proceeded to follow Kempe out and I watched as the sailors all saluted in his direction as he made way, with me behind him.
He brought me up from the orlop deck to the main gun deck, then up another deck and to the captain's quarters, which was guarded at the side by two, red-uniformed marines. "Lieutenant Kempe and Barlow entering, Captain," said one of them, and from behind the closed doors was the captain's reply of approval, and Kempe and I walked into the quarters.
As soon as I was in, the marines closed the doors behind me, and I found myself before Captain Carlisle, all three lieutenants, the sailing master, the Gunner and all the other officers, save for the midshipmen, in there as well. And they were all looking at me. Great... Had I done something wrong? Did Griffith finally tell them? Was I going to get hang—
"Jack Barlow," said the captain. "Fifteen by now, correct?"
"Aye, sir," I said, remembering to put my knuckle to my brow.
"Surgeon's assistant and ship's boy." I nodded at the correct professions I bore.
He must have noticed that I was a bit worried with what was going on, which I was. I thought I was in trouble again, but he smiled and so did a few of the officers.
"Well-educated in maritime action and business…" He continued to expound the things I had done. "…saved the life Midshipman Turner. Loyal messenger in delivering news of enemy sightings and…" He paused and I waited for one final thing to come from his mouth, which I expected to be not the least bit honorable as opposed to the praise he had just shown of me.
"You will report to the clerk in the orlop deck where he shall take your measurements and fit you for a proper uniform." What? "And then you shall return to deck as Midshipman Barlow."
I stood with an open jaw staring at him for what seemed like ten minutes. He had appointed me midshipman. Midshipman. Midshipman. It was taking forever to get it through my head. No more ship's boy chores! No more sharing hammocks! No more dirty sailor gear! I'd be in a gleaming new uniform fitted just for me: Midshipman Jack Barlow! God save captains! And Lieutenants! Oh, the whole Royal Navy if need be!
"Th-Thank y-you, sir," I stuttered, hardly able to express my joy with words. I had finally risen to some place instead of continuing to be kept around the dirt. I had finally taken a step forward.
"Be quick now. Your assistance will be needed if battle ensues," said Carlisle. I would have given the man such a tight embrace for granting me such a privilege, for privilege it was indeed. I did not even think I was ready to be a mid, but bless Captain Carlisle for having hope in a lost, crazy little ship's boy.
But I controlled my feminine urges and gave him my best salute before rushing out of the doors. And as soon as I was out of the cabin, I leapt into the air and gave one hell of a cheerful shout.
Midshipman at last!
I had not a care in the world at that moment. Bennett was no more. Adam was far from my memory. No more romance for Midshipman Astrid Sparrow. None. Just a uniform, her duty, her mates, her dreams, Jack and nothing more.
Now, lads, sailors, officers and everyone in between, I thought. You may now salute and call me, Mister Jack Barlow.