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"I've set him to work on the ropes, Stephen, and to be quite frank I really do not know what to do." Jack Aubrey paced across his cabin, addressing his friend who sat calmly in a Queen Anne chair near the door.
"I ask you, in the keep, three days, refusing food now, not speaking. I should just have him out of it and flog him, before throwing him back into work." Huffing as he sat back down behind his desk, he slammed his fist in frustration onto the thick oak table, causing his silver letterknife to leap six inches into the air before embedding itself into the wood.
"Damn!" He cursed, looking at it, before looking at Maturin. "And I don't know why you're so placid; it's caused you some work, has it not? Delayed you from your naturalistic pursuits?"
Maturin looked across at his friend. He had sympathy for Jack, his friend at his most agitated because he was unable to understand why his crew, who adored his skill and talent as their master, would behave in a manner which he had not considered.
"His friend, Fillings," Maturin spoke carefully and deliberately. "Not even he, for whom Young risked his life, has been able to coax a word." He swallowed, and sat forward in the chair. "There is something other than the happenings aboard the Surprise that made him act in this manner."
Jack got to his feet quickly, glaring at Stephen, before striding towards the door, pulling it open, and calling for Pullings.
"I'll have Blakeney inform him. He's Young's middie, after all. That should get the lad talking, if nothing else." Now it was Stephen's turn to get to his feet.
"You can't be serious?" He looked at Jack in alarm, placing a hand on his collar. Jack looked at it, and then at is friend, questioningly.
"The lad is still recovering from his injuries. As is Nagel. Don't you want to get to the bottom of it first?"
"We have just picked up sail, and have begun to move. Three days ago, we may or may not have sighted the Acheron, who may or may not be looking for us. Two days ago a midshipman, my midshipman, tortured out of his mind, brought his own life to an end and now, a mizzenlad, who has crossed the line before injures one of his crewmates for no apparent reason. I have far more to deal with than a wretch like Robert Young, Stephen. You may deal with him afterwards as you wish. I need him in my crew if we are to be fit to fight, and I am determined that we will be so. Ah, Lieutenant Pullings," he said, to the officer as he appeared in the doorway, looking between both Jack and Stephen.
"You are to inform Mr. Blakeney that it his duty to inform Young that he is to be flogged adecks tomorrow for his behaviour last night." Pulling saluted, acknowledging the order.
"And now, let that be the end of the matter."
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Cicely pulled apart another strand of fibre, as she sat, knees bent with her back to the wall. Her mind could not stop thinking about Edward; how he'd gone, and how it was her fault for boarding the ship in search of him. God did want to punish her; he wanted her to suffer because of this. And he had his wish.
Even now they had got their wind back, and the ship strained at its anchor, her heart ached as she sat there, stinging and aching at the mere thought of her brother, at her own stayed hand and why she hadn't ever told him. Edward had gone to his grave, thinking she was gone too, and would never know the difference.
She had even told Blakeney the truth, when he had come that afternoon to inform her of the Captain's orders, that she would be flogged for her attack on Nagel. Blakeney seemed taken aback that she was accepting her punishment so lightly, and he asked her why she had attacked a fellow shipmate. She'd replied that it was because he had murdered her brother.
Blakeney had patted her on the shoulder and kindly but politely informed her that it could not have been Nagel, for he had been in the service of Aubrey for three years and prior, had never served on the Imperius. Cicely had patiently corrected him, saying that she had no brother called Henry Young, and how Edward was her brother, and she had come from England looking for him.
She felt even more sorry for Blakeney when he broke with Service protocol by informing her that he was sorry for her loss, and he had been the last person Edward had spoken to before he died before adding that he had spoken of a sister, but no brother to them, and Cicely calmly told the boy that she had only become aware of his presence after he had gained his commission.
She had then smiled slightly before looking away, and waited until she heard both doors close until she sobbed into her hands.
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"Mr Blakeney," Stephen Maturin gestured towards the table as the young midshipman stood before them. "May I be so bold as to ask you to reveal the information you gave me moments ago to the Captain?"
The thirteen-year old stood in Jack Aubrey's cabin, looking less than happy at the circumstances. He swallowed before speaking.
"If you please, sir," he said, glancing around the cabin; anywhere but at the Aubrey. "This concerns Young." He looked back at Maturin, who smiled and nodded, reassuringly.
"I gave him the orders as you commanded, sir. And he took them with good grace. He revealed to me the reason for his actions, sir." Aubrey looked at Blakeney, raising his eyebrows.
"I see," he said, coughing slightly and glancing at Stephen before and giving the young man his full attention. "What is his reason, Mr. Blakeney?"
"Well, sir," he said, shifting from foot to foot, "he told me it was because Nagel killed his brother, Edward Hollum."
Silence reigned in Jack's cabin for what seemed like aeons. Finally Jack spoke.
"I see," he said, looking at Stephen, then back at Blakeney. "This does indeed need close consideration. I do thank you for bringing this to my attention." Jack got out of his chair, and opened the heavy door at the latch, holding it open for him. "That will be all," he said, dismissing the midshipman, and watching down the corridor as Blakeney went about his duties.
"I don't like this, Stephen, I don't like it at all," said Jack, frowning at his friend as he closed the door behind him. "What would you have me do? I must punish Young, though I am sorry for his loss. However there are no circumstances which arose to excuse last night. He will be lashed for his attack on a fellow."
The doctor coughed slightly, before sitting down in the Queen Anne chair near the door. Jack knew what was coming; Maturin only did that when he felt there was room to negotiate.
"You have a question, Stephen?" he prompted, leaning against his desk, looking at his friend as a prompt.
"You need all of your men, am I correct?" Aubrey nodded. "And they need to be fit for battle?"
"Hhm," coughed Aubrey again, "Indeed."
"And…do not take this to mean I wish you not to flog Young, for that is indeed my wish, however that is not my intent, what is your reason for it?"
Jack stood up, stepping towards the large glazed windows in his quarters, and looking out on the ocean.
"He has committed a crime, one of utmost seriousness. He has assaulted a man of similar rank. Whatever the reason, I cannot condone it."
"I see," said Maturin, reasonably, shifting his weight forward in the chair. "In that case, I have a suggestion which means you gain what you need, Young will be able to withstand the blows of the lash…"
"…he will be lashed, Stephen…" Jack turned to his friend, arms folded.
"…withstand the blows, so you still have another fighting man."
"…I have a responsibility to this ship, this crew, and His Majesty…"
"…and you need all your men, I know that Jack. Allow him to recover this, however he sustained them, you have another man to fight when you attack the Acheron, and then Young can be punished later."
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"Is it true, Robert?" James's voice echoed in the sick berth as he stood over his friend. "Was Hollum your brother?" he pushed.
"Edward," she said, slowly. "He was."
"Enough now," said the doctor, re-entering the berth and leaving the door open as he strode over to her. "Your friend must rest so he can regain his full strength." James glanced back at her before leaving, closing the door behind him before climbing to the top deck, where he met the waiting crew.
"It true?"
"Were he?"
"Young…"
James exhaled quickly, looking at the sailors around him, and swallowed before he spoke.
"Yes," said James, nodding. He heard a gasp echo from the back and all around. "He was Robert's brother." He glanced round the men.
"He sought him out…"
"Who wouldn't?"
"I would, if he were my brother, however mizzlin' 'e were as an officer…"
"Harris, you shouldn't go speakin' of the dead like that…"
As Bonden spoke, Nagel strode forward. His face didn't look as swollen as it had done a day ago, and James stepped back, thus was the force with which he strode. He stared at James for a few moments, before looking in the direction of the sick berth.
"Ar," he said, looking back to the men. "'s right enough. I reckon we all would 'ave done the same for our kin. And I be saying this now in fer all of those I hold nearest and dearest," he nodded round at the assembled men. "that though he deserves the whip, in the Captain's book, 'e ortn't get it."
A cheer went up a-decks, in agreement.
"I mean, 'e's such a weakling, 'e won't stand more than two at the most. Then what're we to do for our mizzen?"
"Aye!" went the cheer, all round from the crew before Callumay and the b'o'sun shooed them to work.