Chapter Nine
“Mister Olvan!”
“Captain?”
“The ship we want is a battleship called The War Lion.”
Olvan had spent time during the day making notes of the ships in the harbour and their positions. Consulting the sheet of paper, running his finger down the list, he said, “Pier three, sir. The War Lion. One of those big piers on the other side of the harbour, Captain. The bigger ships are at anchor over that side. I presume the water is deeper.”
“At anchor?”
“Yes, Captain. The piers obviously can’t take the big ships, but I noted where the launches landed, and for The War Lion, it’s pier three.”
“The ladies, Harl?”
“Ready and waiting. I paid them well. They should still be there, Captain,” said Harl.
“Go and take them to the inn we saw on the corner of the road. Tell them to wait for a senior officer by the name of Obringer.”
“Aye, Sir.”
“Wait! Is the sailing boat ready?”
“Ready to go, Captain,” said Harl.
Everything was ready, with blank sheets of paper on my desk and a quill made ready to copy the code book. Nothing more to prepare.
“You know you’re going to get yourself killed?” This was the doctor who was sitting in the corner.
“Might do, doctor, but that’s my choice. You lot have your orders.” I now spoke to the rest of the men in the cabin which included the engineer, the marine sergeant, Olvan, Jodlin, Willan and Harl who was about to leave.
“If I’m caught, you get the hells out of here. Run this ship like you’ve got the Tempest of Depths at your heals!” referring to a well-known fable about a sea monster. "Mister Olvan, you are to report the fact that the Water Horse was here to the Secret Servants." I then took the signet ring from the dead officer and placed it on my finger. With that they wished me luck.
A few lamps lit the harbour. Flies buzzed and moths fluttered in the dim pools of light. A dog sniffed around the wooden planking at the waterfront looking for scraps of food and rats amongst the crates, rubbish and piled ropes. There was a certain quality to the air that hinted of morning, but it was still dark and there should be enough time.
The great ships lit up the waters and in the distance. I could see more ships at anchor outside the harbour. A panicked flight would never work. The plan had to succeed or not only my life would be forfeit, but the life of my crew too. Perhaps I was taking too much risk with them? Perhaps this was a vain attempt at glory. The doctor's words came to mind. Was I trying to prove something to myself? Too late now. I had to go through with this. We had come too far and faced too many dangers to stop now. Every step had led to more danger, and every step made retreat the harder. The goal was so close, and with luck we would all be back at sea by daybreak. With luck.
I made my way by a back road to the main street again, and came down it with a drunken stagger, singing a song about a mermaid who had a hairy chest. It was one of the favourites amongst seamen but he I never understood the words. It had stuck in my head though, and now I was putting it to good use. When reaching the inn on the corner, I found the two ladies waiting for me in the shadows.
“Ah!” I said, with a drunken leer. “Come my pretties.”
“We was told to wait here for an officer,” said the smaller one.
“That’s me! Senior Officer Darl Obringer at your service.” Bowing far too low, I nearly fell. The girls took me by the arms and giggled. They relaxed now that their client was here and seemed relatively harmless.
“I promised the lads a gift!” I blurted. I was loud and made a pair of guards stare, but they saw nothing suspicious in a drunk officer with two ladies of the night.
“Come. Pier two. No! three! Pier three.”
The women led the way with me in hand. I started complimenting the girls, and fumbled for some coins which I pressed into their hands. We laughed. This was turning into a profitable evening for the two women Harl had found earlier in the evening in one of the cheaper houses. On reaching the pier, we made our way over to a smaller launch where two sailors got ready to take the officer back to his ship. I had my hat low over my face, and sank my head into my coat, singing and slurring.
“The War Lion!”
“Sir!” said one of the sailors as the ladies stepped aboard, and I clumsily fell onto one of the benches.
As expected the seamen had their eyes on the ladies and took no notice at all of myself. I fell silent, and allowed the ladies to flirt and giggle with the men who pulled on the oars. After five minutes we reached the wall of timber that was The War Lion.
“Wait here,” I slurred to the two seamen in the launch as the ladies and I stepped onto the steps that led up the side of the ship. “Up you go pretties. Get up there and tell them a senior officer is coming up. Show them how friendly you can be!” I winked at them, pressing more coin into their hands. They made their way up the steps with me following a little way behind. At the top I saw from the shadows of my hat that the girls had taken a sentry each. As I had expected, two marines were on guard at the steps, and when they saw me coming up they stood to attention with the girls clinging onto them.
“Sir!” said one of them.
“As’y were lads,” I reached the top and wobbled, slurred every word and made them as lazy as possible. “Toll’you I’d bring a gift!” I was betting the officers were not too familiar with the crew, and it seemed to be working. Either the men could not see me in the darkness or they did not know their officer’s faces too well. Either way, the sailors were more interested in the ladies than a drunk officer.
“Sir?”
“Girls! Girls. You deserve’em. Stuck here on this’ol tub.”
The two guards looked at one-another, then looked at the ladies.
“Go on!” I encouraged them. “Don'worry. I’ll stand guard for a bit. Oh yes. Use a cabin. Our secret.”
“Which cabin?”
“That man Obringer’s still in town. Use his.”
“What?” said one of the girls and I realised my mistake. Before she could point out that I was meant to be Obringer, I quickly push more coin into their hands and said, “Show them a good time ladies. They deserve it. Hurry now.”
There was doubt in the marine’s eyes. They could be hanged for deserting their post. “It’s a bloody order! Get your man sausages out and giv’em some air. An order!”
The girls giggled and the guards relented, hardly believing their luck. They took the women over to a door in the aft super structure, and then went down a passageway, and I followed them to the door and saw which cabin they entered. Once they were gone, I went into the same passageway and began looking around. It was dark with only a single lantern so I took it off the wall, and began to check the doors. Some of them where blank, while others had names on them. Making my way to some steps, I wondered if a lectrocoder would be on an upper deck. I reasoned that the captain would want to be close to the lectrocode officer as he was on the Sea Huntress and so I climbed them and sure enough, after another few doors, found one which had the words, Lectrocoder carved into a wooden panel.
Easing the door open, the room inside was pitch black, but the lantern revealed a cabin with a desk, a cot and the mysterious lectrocoder device on a substantial table, fixed to the wood by clamps and bolts. It had copper piping, and was humming and slightly glowing from its complex innards. In the bed was a young man, sleeping soundly. The desk had draws which I now hoped contained the book. It wasn’t on the desk, and there seemed no other place for it. Putting the lantern on the desk, I tried to open the drawer. It was locked!
“Damn turd in hells,” I muttered, and tugged again.
“Can I help you, sir?”
Spinning around, I saw the bleary eyed Lectrocode Officer looking up from his pillow.
“Where is the code book?”
“Book, sir? Who are you?”
The man got up. He slept in a long pair of white cottons. He
rubbed his eyes. Round his neck, on a silver chain was a small key.
“The book. That’s an order!” I growled.
“I don’t know you, sir. I would have to ask…”
There was a commotion on deck. Someone was shouting: “Guards! Where are you?”
I leaped on the young officer, drawing the gutting knife I had concealed inside Obringer’s coat. Grabbing the man by the neck, I forced him down onto the bed then held the knife to the man’s groin.
“The book!” My voice sounded like a malevolent hiss in my ears, but it was born of panic.
The officer was young, hardly a man, probably no older than sixteen or seventeen. His eyes were wide with terror, and seemed petrified into silence by the blade pressing against his balls.
“The book!” I repeated, very conscious of the commotion going on down on deck. Men were running and shouting. The girls were protesting loudly now.
I did not wanted it to be like this, but I had planned for it. I had hoped to copy the book there on the ship without being found out, and then simply vanish, but it was not to be.
Slowly the Lectrocode Officer raised a hand to point at the draw in the desk. Looking at the terrified boy, I wished I did not have to do this. I hesitated. There were tears in the boy’s eyes. There was more movement on the ship. Men were waking to investigate the noise. I had to get off the ship, and fast.
“Sorry.” I quickly brought the knife up and thrust it deep and hard into the boy’s heart. Forcing my other hand over the young officer’s mouth, the boy struggled for mere seconds before the life left his eyes. Wiping the blade on the bedclothes, I then ripped the key from the dead officer’s neck and opened the draw. There I found the small black book. It was surprisingly heavy with lead weights sewn into the spine, designed to sink it should it be thrown overboard. Now for the final act, and then get the hells of this ship. I did not look back at the boy. I couldn’t, feeling awful for killing such an innocent, but it had to be done.
The passageway was empty. I had to be quick. Soon an officer or guard would probably go to Obringer’s cabin. I made my way down the steps and could clearly hear another officer berating the two marines outside. Somewhere a door slammed. Quick as a marlin, I darted into The Senior Officer's cabin. It was a good size with a trunk, cot, desk and some chairs. A small porthole looked out over the night time harbour. On the desk was a writing box, a lantern and some papers. Putting my own lantern down, I quickly looked through the papers and found a letter home which was yet to be sealed. It had Darl Obringer’s signature at the bottom. Opening the writing box, I took a blank sheet of paper and a pen, then, dipping the pen in the box’s inkwell wrote:
“No longer can I live with this treachery! No longer will I suffer the dishonour. Long live the Emperor!” This was all there was time for. It would have to do. I signed it as best I could, “Senior Officer Darl Obringer.” Then, taking a stick of red wax I opened the lantern and melted the end which I placed on the note to leave a hot lump into which I plunged the signet ring I had taken from the officer.
Now to get off this ship. Originally I had hoped to be in and out before the guards where done with the ladies and just take the launch back, but that would never work now. It was nearing morning, and the sun was probably no more than half an hour away. I had to hurry.
It was too far to swim with the clothes that had to be returned as part of the plan. I could probably get a hundred yards or so, but they would surely drag me down after that. It had to be a boat. Harl had offered to stand ready with a boat if needed but it would have looked too suspicious to have a launch hovering around the naval ship, so I rejected that idea, but regretted that now. Harl could have hidden in some shadows further off. It would have been a risk worth taking. Perhaps the seamen in the launch where still being questioned? They would head back at some point to await others who wished to return to the ship. It was my best and probably only chance.
I headed back into the ship to find another way out. Climbing the steps again, I had to duck back into a door-well as a guard passed on his nightly rounds further down the passage. When it was clear I continued. I found more steps leading up and came to another door. Opening it, I found myself on the deck of the aftcastle, but two men stood at one end looking down at the officer who was still berating the poor guards. I thanked my lucky stars when I heard the officer tell the boat men to get back to their duties, and the two guards to expect an enquiry in the morning. The boatmen were still there.
Creeping away from the men towards the back of the vessel, I looked down at the massive paddle wheel housing and black waters of the harbour. It was a long drop, and I was sure I would never survive it should I jump. Also they were sure to hear me hit the water and come to investigate. Climbing over the taffrail, I started my descent. I was aiming for a chain that emerged from further down the hull to the side of the wheels. If I could reach that, I could then use it to reach the water. The chain was a rear anchor chain, thick and it angled down into the black waters.
Must hurry. The launch would soon be gone and I would be left in the cold and dark waters where I would soon tire and sink to the bottom and a watery grave. Thankfully, there were plenty of hand holds in the fine carvings that adorned such a grand ship which helped me descend the wall of wood. As I climbed, I also edged my way over to the chain and was now above it. It was all taking too long! Then, in my hurry to get down, I lost my grip on a ledge, and fell. Panicking, I scramble to find a hold, but none came to hand so I tumbled. With a bone crunching jar, I fell, back first onto the massive chain. Like a cat, I span round and again scrambled for a grip, finding one and hung for a second from the chain with one hand. The drop had both hurt and winded me. I hoped I had not been heard. My grip was already tiring and slipping. I was not a strong man, but with a grunt of effort, managed to reach up and take the chain with both hands.
It was still quite a drop, so I began to edge my way, hand over hand down towards the water that I could now hear lapping on the silent paddle wheels. Finally, reaching the water, I eased myself into it. It was far colder than I had expected, and the chill took my breath away. It may have been spring but this far north, the waters never truly warmed and to me it felt like ice. Letting go of the chain, I sank at once. My boots, jacket, breaches, book and knife all conspired to sink me. I kicked and waved my arms in desperation. It was exhausting and took every bit of strength I had left in my tired body to break the surface. I coughed and spluttered, half swam and half kicked just to stay above the waterline and made my way around the ship. The launch was still there, tied to the ship’s steps. The two ladies sat sullen and cold in the bow. The two seamen where just getting in. I made for it, but now my body was going numb with the cold and effort. My muscles where already giving way. I got closer and forced myself to be silent. It was near impossible, but I had to try. The two seamen undid the rope, and sat at their oars. They were grumbling and cursing as they did so.
“Don’t blame us,” I heard one of the girls say.
If they set off now, I would never make it. It was so dark that they probably would not see me but I had to swim silently for any sound would alert them to my presence. The damned clothes dragged at me. Obringer’s clothes. They were lead weights and I was not strong enough to fight them, but I kept trying. I kept going. My shoulders now burned with the effort. Swallowing water, I had to force myself not to cough and splutter. Keep fighting, keep going, but I was too late. The seamen put the oars in the water and pulled on them. I despaired, only yards away now but it was just no longer possible to reach them.
“You there!”
The men stopped rowing and looked up. I kept going as quietly as I could. I was sinking, but reached out.
“If any more officers try to bring a lady on board, you are to inform me at once. You know the regulations!”
This was the last thing I heard as he went under. My fingers brushed against the boat, and I grabbed the rear keel, holding it as hard as I could knowing it would be slippe
ry, but I had it, and then was pulled forwards. Surfacing again, I gasped for air. The noise of the oars now covered my gasping breathes of sweet air. The grip was tenuous and slipping so I reached up with my spare hand for a ring that hung from the keel which held a rope. I hooked my finger into it and finally relaxed, spent, frozen, but alive, and I allowed the seamen to drag me through the waters, back to land.
It was only a short trip, and the men grumbled at the labour, commenting that the ladies should lose weight to which they received very indignant and un-lady like responses. The men were obviously in no mood to flatter the ladies having recently been chastised for their part in events.
As the boat neared the pier, I had to steel myself again for more swimming. I wanted to leave it as late as possible, but didn’t want to be too close to the seamen when they reached the pier for fear of being spotted leaving the boat. At was dark, but I soon saw some harbour detritus in the light of the few lamps on the piers. Amongst the rubbish was a bobbing barrel. Without a second thought I let go of the boat and swam for it. I sank at once, but swam as hard as I could. At least they would not see or hear me, and kept going as far as my breath would hold. The question was whether or not I would have the strength to drag myself back to the surface again. My body was exhausted and my arms and legs moved more slowly than I willed them. I fought hard, finally letting out the precious air in a cry of desperation, but made it, just breaking the surface again.
When I came up, I did not look back. I did not have the strength. Either they would see me or they would not. I could hear the launch not far off, but I swam for the barrel, and just hoped I was not seen or heard. So weak now. I was losing any ability to fight the sucking depths, but with a final desperate effort of will, I manage to reach the barrel, and hugged it for the dear life saver it was, gasping for breath. Now I dared look round and saw as the launch knocked against the pier. The grumbling seamen sent the ladies on their way, and went back to playing cards on a crate. I was near spent.
Kicking, hugging the barrel, I began the long swim back to my ship and crew. I kept looking east and feared the rising sun. It would both make me visible in the waters and ruin the final part of our plan. Time passed. I kicked and kicked. It was slow going. I just wanted to rest, wanted a soft cot, and a bottle of fiery wine and a big woman to warm me. I kicked and just kept going. Eventually I rounded a cargo ship, and there, saw the black silhouette of The Wraith Deep. Looking up, there was a thin line of grey on the horizon. Dawn was coming. With renewed purpose, I forced myself to kick harder, and finally I was spotted as I came up alongside the ship. The men were all awake and keeping a weather eye. They sent rope ladders down, and men came down to fetch me and drag my spent body to the deck where I lay coughing up seawater.
“Captain?”
“Give him room, lads.”
I heard the voices but did not know who was talking.
“Captain?”
Drifting off.
“The dawn, Captain.”
Dawn. Dawn!
I looked up at Harl who was holding me.
“Hurry,” I coughed. “Hurry! Take the book.”
Harl looked through my inside pockets and found the book. Dr. Eebel then arrived and told the men to stand back.
“Copy the book!” I croaked. My vision was blurring. The last thing I saw before passing out were the doctor’s dark eyes.