Alan Lewrie - 08 - Jester's Fortune by Dewey Lambdin

Author:Dewey Lambdin
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Historical Fiction
ISBN: 9781590130346
Published: 1999-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Or he's took by "barrel-fever" by now, Lewrie thought, seeing as how we're on our fourth bottle of wine 'twixt the four of us. And nought but Ben's been sippin' steady.

"Well, that should do it, I think, sirs." Charlton beamed, with a cock of his head towards a calendar hanging in his chart-space beyond. "We'll meet up here at Trieste again in, say, three weeks? First week of August at the latest, depending on what occurs on your various duties and how depleted you are for prize-crews. You run into anything dangerous, and you scoot back here for shelter. Or come south to me, in the straits. Or, should I need saving, sirs"—Charlton posed, hands out in a helpless expression—"should the Frogs come in strength, then you'll see me first. Flying afore 'em, with stuns'ls aloft and alow! Captain Rodgers, you'll have your Austrian liaison aboard soon. Once I've sent word to Major Simpson, ashore. Uhm ..."

Charlton had been acting very relieved, almost joyful at times, since they'd acceded to his plans—though, now and then, a touch rueful and hesitant. Now he almost blushed.

"Before you sail, you'd best take aboard a small cargo of arms and such, sirs . . . the both of you," Charlton added. "Do you succeed in discovering suitable temporary allies, then why not, uhm . . . ?"

"Aye aye, sir," Rodgers agreed once more, even more heavily.

"Off ashore, sir?" Lewrie asked Rodgers, once they were on deck and queuing up for their gigs to arrive, in strict order of seniority. "S'pose you're about due for a tear. Even among what poor amusements Trieste has to offer. Not a patch on Venice, after all . . ."

"Thought I might," Rodgers allowed. Almost snippish, though.

Truculence? Lewrie wondered. A guilty conscience? Or pissed as a newt? Damn' standoffish, I must say!

"And you, sir?" Rodgers queried.

"Seen it, sir." Lewrie chuckled. "Hellish boresome. Letters to write, that sort of last-minute thing. Cargo to load," he drawled with a sarcastic note. "For our noble 'Christian' friends, don't ye know."

That officer lined up and ready to assist their search, a cargo of arms all but crated and ready to stow below . . . Lewrie was now wondering just how really debatable the scheme had been before they'd been called aboard Lionheart to discuss it.

And Charlton's parting shot! A last admonition, nothing written, a verbal order tossed off as if it were a matter that had slipped his mind. Make certain you only engage Christian pirates, sirs!" And it had been a wonder to watch him not twitch in embarrassment for uttering such a statement!

Christian pirates, my God! Lewrie groaned; sort of like merging "Army" and "Intelligence"! Find 'em, most-like, by followin' the smell o' incense burnin' in their censers . . . whilst they're at prayers!

"Quite th' change th' years've made of us, Lewrie," Rodgers said of a sudden, in a very soft, conspiratorial voice. "You, turned into an upright family man. An' me ... a coward."

"You, sir? A coward?" Lewrie hooted.

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