Bolitho #29 - Heart of Oak by Alexander Kent

Author:Alexander Kent [Kent, Alexander]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781590131374
Publisher: McBooks Press
Published: 2007-04-01T05:00:00+00:00

He recalled hearing the third lieutenant, Monteith, remark, ‘This is where we part company, and good riddance!’

He took a deep breath and pulled himself on to the next

stretch of ratlines. Don’t look down. Don’t count every step. It helped expunge the sound of the lash from his memory. The

gasps of agony. He had witnessed floggings before, had sensed the hostility of those around him. Us and them. And it was still there: he had just passed a seaman coiling some halliards. The man had deliberately looked away.

He felt his ankle twist, his foot jerk sharply from the ratline.

He had almost forgotten the pain, the numbing shock that

seemed to burn into his leg like fire, or the surgeon’s knife.

His shirt was plastered to his back. Sweat, fear. Some one called out, but he could not speak or breathe.

‘You all right down there?’ Then again, more sharply,

‘Don’t move! Don’t even blink! I’m coming!’

He lost track of time; maybe he had fainted. He was lying on his back with some one kneeling beside him. Naked to the

waist, skin tanned like leather: one of the topmen. He could see the heavy scabbard at his belt, the sort favoured by professional seamen for knife and marline spike. He felt him

gripping his breeches, the cloth tearing like paper.

“Jesus! What did this to you?’

He had turned slightly, and Napier saw his face, young and open, in his twenties; he had been in the navy since he was twelve. Napier struggled to sit up, to clear his throat.

‘Tucker. I thought for a minute.

‘That’s me.’ He had his arm around his shoulders. ‘I’ll fetch help.’

Napier shook his head. ‘Not yet, David. I have to look at

something.’ It was like a fog lifting from his mind. They had first met when Tucker had asked him if he would read a letter he had received, as he could neither read nor write, and they had discovered they shared the same Christian name. Little enough, but it had been a bridge between the us and them.

Napier had written two or three letters for him after that, and in exchange Tucker had taught him the finer points of

ropework and splicing. But most of all, they had talked. Tucker was an orphan, and had been signed into the navy by a relative of some kind. The easy escape. Something else they shared.

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