Sergeant MacRae had been kind enough to direct us to the previous lieutenant’s quarters, where I hoped to find something suitable for Eirene to wear. I ignored the men who stared at us with contempt as we walked up to the officer’s quarters – Eirene reiterated that it was forbidden to bring common jack sailors onto the quarterdeck, a provision that did not exist under Captain Glass’s command.
Once we had entered the old marine lieutenant’s cabin, I went straight for the man’s locked sea chest. On instinct, I reached down for my shashka that I would try to use and break the lock, but alas my blade was in Captain Barrett’s possession.
“Don’t you feel the least bit bothered by this?” said Eirene. “We’re going through the possessions of a dead man.”
“This is precisely why I have no qualms about it,” I said as I searched for a way to open the chest. “The man was not a saint, and he was definitely not someone I know. His belongings will be of best use to us – the living. Do you see anything that could open this lock?”
“Well, I have some hairpins down below that…”
Eirene’s voice trailed off. A pristine engraved service pistol beckoned to me from its mantle on the wall above the cot. I grabbed it and, using all the force I could muster, smashed the chest’s lock open with its butt.
The chest was full of books, mementos, and correspondence from the man’s family. It also had the man’s uniform – a splendid scarlet coat with white facings and cuffs, fine brass buttons, and a shining silver gorget. All topped with a black cocked hat with silver trim. I was almost jealous.
“Your uniform, lieutenant.”
“Excellent,” said Eirene as she began removing her clothes. I was shocked at her scandalous behavior and averted my eyes.
“While I thank you for your tact, I would thank you even more if you tossed me that uniform.”
I picked up the pile of neatly folded clothes and threw them at her without looking. I heard them land in a heap on the floor.
“No need to be rude about it,” she grumbled.
As I heard the rustling of cloth behind me, I felt as I did when I was a child spying on the village women through slits in the old banya door. A juvenile part of me wanted to turn around just to see what Eirene looked like in all her natural beauty, but I felt that doing that would earn me a sharp kick in the face.
After a few minutes, she tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned around to see her dressed in the red and white of a British marine officer, except that she had lost some of her noble bearing from the sleeves being so long that they covered her hands.
“At least the boots fit,” she mumbled. “And my word, you men have no idea how easy you have it – no bodices, no corsets, no cursed lace on your backs. How do I look?”
“Adequate,” was all I could say as I held back a chuckle. In truth she looked like a child playing soldier with her father’s uniform, but there was nothing that could be done about the uniform now, on such short notice. “We should head to the captain’s cabin. As he said, we should not be late.”
We strode back through the deck with even more eyes on us than before. Eirene, even with the silliness of her new uniform, walked with the same military bearing she had when she was wearing the red and green of the Czarina.
“What do you think the captain wants?” I asked.
“How should I know? I’ve been on this ship only hours longer than you, sir. But we should remember that we are attending an officer’s dinner. A level of propriety is expected. Do you remember the conversations we had on European table manners on the road to Hamburg?”
“I thought it was frivolous nonsense,” I scoffed.
Eirene cast her eyes skyward. “Lord above, preserve us. The captain thinks you’re a lord, so you better start acting like one.”
“I’ll manage. When have manners ever been a matter of life and death?”
By now, we stood in front of the captain’s cabin door. Eirene sneered at me, no doubt expecting me to turn this dinner into a fiasco with my Cossack dining habits. I, however, brushed her concerns aside and gave her a cheeky wink.
“Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”
I threw open the door to find Captain Barrett sitting at the head of a long table, flanked by two men in civilian dress. One, a bespectacled, lanky fellow with a beak for a nose, had it buried in between the pages of a thick book. The other man, who looked too fat to be a sailor, examined us from head to toe with his beady little eyes as soon as we entered the room.
“Lord Krym,” said Barrett with a fake smile, “so nice of you to join us… and… what’s this?” he got up from his seat and pointed at Eirene, who merely placed her hands on her hips in a display of annoyed defiance. “Did you… did you raise a man from the ranks to lieutenant without consulting me?”
Eirene rolled her eyes, “Sir, if…”
“Do not speak!” he said as he shot up from his seat. “Lord Krym, I demand an explanation!”
“A mouthpiece,” I said. It was the simplest thing I could say to get my point across that a foreigner like myself needed a translator as well as a liaison to the men. “You said I…”
“I said you were allowed to bring on an interpreter, sir, not raise an officer from the damned ranks!”
“Language,” mumbled the chubby beady-eyed gentleman.
“What?” Barrett said as he turned to face him.
“Better is a dry morsel, and quietness therewith, than a house full of feasting with strife, especially at the dinner table, sir.”
“And may I add,” said the bespectacled man, looking up from his book, “that this gentleman here is well within his rights to promote from the ranks, both since you instated him as captain of marines and since currently, those marines have no executive officer.”
Barrett grumbled before sitting back down and sighing.
“My temper that otherwise serves me well in the heat of battle, sometimes gets the better of me. You will forgive me for this. Now, Lord Krym, may I introduce you to Warren Ferguson, ship’s master,” he pointed to the fat man, who smiled and nodded at me. “It is due to Master Ferguson and his charts that we are not drifting away into the boundless Pacific, and for that you should be thankful.” Pointing to the man with the spectacles, he continued. “This is Doctor Audren le Duff, ship’s surgeon. He takes pride in his knowledge and has an aptitude for swift and precise amputations.”
Le Duff looked up from his book, met eyes with me as a form of acknowledgement, and went back to reading.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Have a seat Lord Krym,” said Barrett as he unfolded a napkin. “We shall dine together,” he narrowed his eyes at Eirene. “As officers.”
Eirene bowed to the captain and grabbed a seat next to me, but Barrett raised his hand to stop her before she could sit down.
“I specifically stated that we should dine together as officers, boy. I extended the invitation to your master but not to you. Leave us.”
How dare he, I thought. Not only was it disrespectful to Eirene as a person, but it was also disrespectful to the rank which I had promoted her to. Indignant, I shot up out of my seat.
“If no eat with me leytenant,” I said, “then no eat with you, sir. Good day.”
“Wait,” Barrett sighed. “The brevet lieutenant can stay as long as long as he behaves himself. I would have words with you.”
“Brevet? What is brevet?”
“That,” said Barrett, pointing to Eirene, “is your damned brevet, sir. An officer that is neither commissioned nor a gentleman, pulled from the ranks at the courtesy of his commanding officer for reasons known only between the two of them. In a word, the product of nepotism and corruption, which I will not tolerate again on my ship, sir!” Barrett let out a long exhale and straightened his cravat. “I would have preferred it to just be us true gentlemen, but I realize that, given your lack of proficiency in our language, it would be best for you to have a ‘mouthpiece’ as you put it. Please, sit.”
The other two gentlemen did not seem to mind Eirene’s presence, and in fact, I thought I saw the surgeon, Le Duff, grimace at Barrett while he berated us. As soon as we were finally situated at the table, the captain clapped his hands to summon dinner.
Andrei burst into the room carrying a large plate. His smile stretched from ear to ear as he glided towards our table, undoubtedly happy to be in his element again, away from the excitement and danger of an adventurer’s life.
When the large dish was placed, it dominated the center of the table, leaving hardly any room for additional plates or other tableware. Andrei removed the cloche to reveal a great pie that smelled of herbs and butter.
“Dolphin pie, messieurs,” said Andrei with a flourishing bow. “Only the best cuts for our fine officers.”
Eirene leaned closer to me and murmured, “I think he said dolphin. Did he say dolphin?”
“Del’fin, dolphin, it’s all the same,” I whispered in reply. “Meat is meat and we should be thankful.”
I realized how hungry I was and I reached for the dish, but I stopped when I noticed Barrett glaring at me.
“I do not know how you do it in your country, Lord Krym, but this is an English ship, and we say grace like Englishmen.”
“He means to pray,” Eirene whispered to me.
I chuckled in embarrassment. My hunger had led me to forget my manners, and I had always given thanks to the Lord before meals. Therefore, as was our practice in the old country, I stood up and crossed myself.
“What are you doing?” said Ferguson, who seemed slightly offended. “Sit down! That is not the way to pray!”
Confused, I obeyed and took my seat. Across from me Barrett shook his head before folding his hands in prayer. The other officers followed his example.
“Bless, O Father, Thy gifts to our use and us to Thy service; for Christ’s sake. Amen.”
Immediately afterwards, the captain reached for a knife and began to carve out a piece of the pie. I looked at Eirene, who looked back at me. Now, for us Orthodox Christians, prayers did not typically end as quickly. It was another cultural dissimilarity that I would have to get used to.
Following the Englishmen’s lead, I carved out a piece of the pie with the serving knife and took a bite out of it. I had never had dolphin before that day, and I rather enjoyed its taste. I likened it to something like cow’s liver.
“This is quite good,” I said to Eirene, who – for some reason – was looking at me with wide-eyed horror, like I had just committed some unknown sin. Andrei, standing off to the side, shared her expression.
“Lord Krym!” cried Captain Barrett from across the table, “Forks, sir! Man created forks to be used at the dinner table instead of fingers!”
Confused, I turned to Eirene and murmured in Russian, my mouth still full of dolphin, “What the devil is he talking about?”
Eirene shook her head at me and simply reached out with a knife and fork to grab a piece of pie, then carved it on her plate.
It did not make any sense to me to eat something with a fork that already had a dry crust for handling, since I ate kulebyaka – a similar dish – with my hands all the time, but I followed her example. Barrett threw his hands up into the air.
“Even the damned brevet has better table manners than you,” he grumbled. “It is no wonder that your country is so backward. Lord Krym, I want to be very clear about why I brought you on board. You are here out of practicality’s sake alone. You see there are only the five of us in this room? These are all the senior officers on this ship, minus the midshipmen and the lieutenants, whom I have assigned to watch over the vessel in our absence.”
“So,” I said in between bites of dolphin pie, “why take me?”
“Two reasons: the first is because the admiralty in London, in its infinite wisdom, decreed that all men of war sailing for the Mediterranean Sea should have at least one Russian-speaking officer on board to act as liaison between the officers of His Majesty’s Navy and any of your own ships that we come across, and secondly because I do not want to give that bastard Garlington any satisfaction. The things he does to slaves on that colonial outpost of his are despicable. Do you know why he was assigned to Cape Coast? Buggery – buggery with a boy, sir. His family appointed him there to hide their shame. Now he can commit his heinous acts out here on the fringes of the world where he is governor and no one can stop him. There is no justice. I only hope your empress did not cast you out of your country in a similar fashion. Tell me, why are you here at all?”
“To study. Sailing, for fleet of Russia.”
“Huh,” said Barrett, leaning back in his chair. “Mister Ferguson, it seems that you might have an opportunity to take someone under your wing if Lord Krym would be so inclined as to accept a tutor.”
“It would be my honor, sir,” said Ferguson through his quivering jowls. “At least until we reach Gibraltar – a journey of thirty-three days at four knots by my reckoning.”
“What is Gibraltar?” I asked.
“Gibraltar,” said le Duff, “is located on the southern tip of the Iberian Peninsula. We took it from the Spanish several decades ago, and it is where we shall secure new officers and men.”
“And it will be where you step off, Lord Krym,” Barrett added. “You and your brevet lieutenant. I need a figurehead for the marines to rally behind, not someone who would abuse their power. Thankfully, the men’s morale will not suffer once you are relieved of your command. You may spend your days studying seafaring with Mister Ferguson here, but as much as possible, try to avoid meddling in the affairs of my ship or its marines. Do we have an understanding?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Once we arrive at Gibraltar, you will step off of my ship. From there you should have no trouble chartering a passage to your own country by way of carriages, for we will be on European soil again.”
It was a lot to take in, but it seemed that my journey at sea would finally be ending. I would have to learn all that I could about seamanship from Mister Ferguson within the limited time we had to sail to this “Gibraltar.” It had seemed that the Almighty had saved me from death and the worst hardships, and with the help of Ferguson and Eirene, perhaps I could fib myself into the captaincy of one of the Czarina’s vessels.
“Oh, and one more thing, Lord Krym.” Barrett unfastened my shashka from his sword belt and placed her on the table beside the pie. “I shan’t be needing this anymore. Its balance is all awry and it lacks a crossguard completely. It is thus unsuitable for an officer of His Majesty’s Royal Navy, but perhaps you might still have some use for it. After all, an officer is not completely dressed without his sword.”
The red-lacquered scabbard felt good back in my hands. I drew the blade slightly to inspect it, as was my habit, and found it to still be in great condition.
“I thank you, sir.”
“No need, Lord Krym; but I will not suffer that weird blade being drawn in anger against me. That is all the thanks and assurance I need.”
I spent the rest of that evening’s dinner avoiding conversation with the other officers, choosing instead to seek quiet, distracted contemplation, thinking about how Captain Glass and Rebecca had been doomed from the start, and reminding myself that their deaths were no fault of my own. I also reflected on how much the sea was like the vast grassy steppe of my Crimean homeland. Maybe learning to sail would be just like learning to ride again – were not the ropes just like a horse’s reins? Were not the stars in the sky that we used to find our way the same everywhere else on God’s earth? Although I was slightly saddened that my journey might soon be coming to a close, I was glad that we had made it that far.
Once dinner was over, I placed my hand on Eirene’s, under the table where no one could see, and said to her in Russian,
“I am glad that I have had the chance to share this adventure with you.”
“You called me an adventurer,” she said with a chuckle.
“Yes, indeed I did.” I looked out the portholes to see sailors lighting the ship’s lamps as darkness descended. It was time for Barrett to adjourn us for the night.
“I believe I am entitled to the lieutenant’s quarters now,” said Eirene. “Would you be so kind as to help me move my sea chest?”
“Of course, my dear,” I said with a small smile.
“Lieutenant is fine for now,” she replied, smiling in return.
To this day, I do not know if she had romantic intentions on that night, because our otherwise peaceful evening was interrupted by the sounds of a violent scuffle from belowdecks.