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| Sink or Swim; 5 July 1751; Hales meets his new master | |
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| Topic Started: 8 May 2008, 03:49 AM (440 Views) | |
| Barnaby Hales | 8 May 2008, 03:49 AM Post #1 |
Perfect Obedience Through Fear
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All of the uproar, bad feeling, and revelations that had swept through the fort during the previous days were entirely lost on Barnaby Hales. He had not left the building that housed the officers' quarters since waking up the day before at his customary early hour, only to discover that his master was nowhere to be found. Panic had set in after Hales discovered that there were clothes missing from Norrington's sea-chest, which, taken in conjunction with the state of disarray of the room itself, meant but one thing. His master was gone. He had heard the rumblings, of course, but had dismissed them with his usual disinterest in such things. Now, of course, he knew he should have put more stock in what he'd heard. Maybe, if he had... Hales looked down at the rag in his hand, as he had been restlessly dusting everything in the room even though there was no need. It embarrassed him that he had no idea what to do without a master. Close on the heels of his embarrassment was the knowledge that he was once again unemployed, right around the same time that he usually ended up in such a state. His fingers plucked at the rag and he stood up after a moment, giving in to his need to at least pretend to be actively working. It didn't help ease the yawning sensation of being adrift and helpless, but it was better than nothing. Questions and doubt were drowning his mind. Lord but he wished he had paid closer attention to... everything. The rumours, the distress, the nagging sense that something was wrong. Everything. Disgusted with himself, Hales gave up trying to clean away dust that didn't exist and let the rag drop to the floor. He was a poor servant to not know that something this disastrous was soon to happen. Heavy footsteps thudded toward the door and he brightened somewhat, foolishly hopeful that perhaps it had only been unexpected business aboard ship that was the reason for his master's being away. The steward went quickly to the door, glad suddenly that in his impulsive need to be busy he had tidied up the quarters. Before he made it even half-way across the floor, however, the door was thrown open and his pathetic hope withered and died. It was only a marine. Wait, a marine? What... "Let's go," the man said gruffly, gesturing impatiently for Hales to exit the quarters. His muscles moved of their own accord - which was probably just as well - and the steward followed the marine without speaking. Where they were bound was unknown, but the path taken to that destination didn't register on Hales' consciousness. His mind had gone blank, without even the slightest thought to break the stillness. It wasn't until the marine pulled him to a rough stop that he realised they'd gotten to wherever they'd been going. "Steward for you, Commodore," the marine announced. The four words revealed far too much and Hales wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Of the things that were laid bare by the marine's statement, the most unwelcome one had to do with the Commodore mentioned. His master would never send for him in this manner. He knew it. Secondly... whoever that marine was, it was no man that Hales knew. That meant he had no allies around, in any form. "Get in there." The marine helped him along with a shove, but Hales hardly noticed. His mind had gone blank again, but this time with fear. He should have known, should have guessed... what was going to happen to him now? The steward shuffled to a trembling halt a bare two paces past the door, his gaze lowered toward the floor. Just as long as this meeting, or whatever it was, passed quickly - it was probably too much to hope for it to be painless. "Sent for me sir?" Hales forced himself to ask, his voice little more than a mumble. |
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| Frederick St Montgomery | 7 Jun 2008, 07:15 PM Post #2 |
Rear Admiral of the Fleet
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St Montgomery smirked as Hales entered. He felt no remorse for the turmoil he had caused the servant, nor did he spare even a thought for the man's emotional state. Instead, before him, he saw yet another chance to strike at the absent Norrington, and to help complete his victory. "Yes, do come in," he said, dryly. He stood from his chair and walked around, looking the man over like he were a newly acquired slave--a piece of merchandise and not a man. "It seems," he said, leaning back against the desk, "that your former master left you rather abruptly. Of course, it did have to be abruptly, otherwise I imagine he might not have been able to evade us. So terrible, when one so esteemed flees to save his own neck the indignity of the noose, don't you think?" He picked up a paper casually from his desk, looking over it as he continued to speak, "And to think, that he couldn't even inform his steward that he was leaving. Just let you go on thinking that you were going to continue to serve him through the court martial, up until the point where...well, you know. I'm sure he was quite forthright with you regarding the likelihood of his being found innocent of the charges...hardly innocent, I mean the facts were indisputable, his squadron, my own now, lost one vessel to pirates, thankfully it was destroyed, and the continued interest in seeing pirates free...one could almost wonder if the man was profiting by such a tactic. I find it curious that he was able to afford such items as he did, and keep several servants in employ on his salary, even with the prize money, but that's all water under the bridge now, hmmm?" He dropped the paper on the desk and turned his gaze to Hales. "His future will catch up to him, but for now, I'm far more interested about your future. Being the kind-hearted master that I'm sure he was, he no doubt left you with a recommendation in the case that it was unlikely he'd live long with his position. However his word on your services now seems rather tarnished by recent action. I'd hate to see such a good servant of you wont for work because a dead man's word proved not to be too convenient. "I happen to need a steward. Having dined at his table on several occasions, I was able to observe that you go about your tasks swiftly, efficiently, and to the highest degree of skill. I am willing to take you under my employ." |
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| Barnaby Hales | 20 Jun 2008, 10:03 AM Post #3 |
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Perfect Obedience Through Fear
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"It seems that your former master left you rather abruptly." Hales' mouth was set in a grim line and he refused to let his mind engage itself with contemplation of that remark. His master had left for his own reasons, he told himself, and they were the best reasons possible. Anything else was unfathomable to him, and about as distasteful to consider as horse dung on the street. Who was this man to even begin to speak of such things? The steward's ears burned as the comments went on, even though he tried admirably to close his mind to such slander. It was pure blasphemy, nothing less. "I am willing to take you under my employ." Those words, more than any of the others that had been spoken, made Hales' blood chill colder than ice. The man was willing to... he couldn't finish the thought. It was too distressing. Forcing himself to admit that his master was gone had been gut-wrenching enough. He couldn't bear to think how much worse it might be if he attempted to wrap his mind around this new concept. From what little he had bothered to listen to, this officer was not a man who would be a good master. That, perhaps beyond anything else, was something Hales feared most. He had known good and bad masters alike, and the prospect of becoming to subject to another bad master did not appeal to him in the slightest. The steward lifted his eyes to meet the steely stare of the man who was about to become the master of Hales' fate. He knew of no other option open to him. He could not refuse, however much he might wish to. His last master would not wish him to be foolish... although that hardly mattered now, really. Hales swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat only with an effort and dropped his gaze again. It was true enough, what this officer had said of Hales' skills. It was a rare occasion that he allowed himself to believe words of praise but sometimes, like now, such offerances found a way to sink into his brain and stick. He pushed the brief moment of pleasure at the compliment aside; good servant or not, he still needed employment to survive. This officer, whatever his temperament and reputation, was offering him employment. "I'd be honoured, sir," Hales said slowly, offering an abbreviated bow. There was no other answer he could give and hope to find a better offer. At least this way, he would not be forced to beggary in order to feed himself. The steward tried to erase all memories of his former master. He could not permit himself to be bogged down in pointless regret; not if he wanted to live up to his new master's expectations. Whatever they might be. |
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| Frederick St Montgomery | 3 Jul 2008, 06:33 PM Post #4 |
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Rear Admiral of the Fleet
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St Montgomery smiled, oh, this is just too delicious! He thought watching the steward's face. Hales had a very limited choice--he could agree to work for him, or St Montgomery would use his power to ensure that the man would be unable to find another job. Of course, Hales didn't know that the alternative would be due to his own interference, but all in all...this was turning out quite pleasantly. "I'd be honoured, sir." "Good man!" St Montgomery said, walking around to behind his desk before he took a seat, "Now unfortunately, there is some issue as to my off-base housing, but that is in the process of being sorted as we speak," referring to the hatching of the plan to find a pretend wife, "so your presence will be required on board the Dauntless and here." He ceased looking at the steward, turning his attention to the work on his desk, as he spoke, multitasking. His eyes scanned down a piece of parchment as he spoke. "I trust you remember where the great cabin is on the Dauntless? Yes, yes, yes, you would, quite sorry that you'll have to be waiting on me in the same place as your former master, but some things cannot be avoided. After all, Proserpina was hardly a ship befitting a commodore, only the Dauntless will due, and of course, further promotions would require me to be in command of one of the mightier ships of His Majesty's Fleet." He picked up the piece of paper he was looking over and tore it right down the middle and tossed it onto the floor. "Oops, my bad, perhaps if Captain Gillette knew how to properly file a report as I told him I wanted it...oh, I forgot, I haven't spoken to him about that yet. Hardly my fault, the man should have known to check in with Mr Pritchard about how I wanted them written. Anyway, I think some coffee would be very good right about now--good and strong coffee, if you please." |
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| Barnaby Hales | 8 Jul 2008, 02:09 AM Post #5 |
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Perfect Obedience Through Fear
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"Good man!" Hales unconsciously let out a sigh of relief when his new master stepped away to go round to the other side of his desk. The man had an air about him that chilled Hales to his bones. Nothing good could come from working for this officer but he had agreed to it. There was no other choice but to endure. "I trust you remember where the great cabin is on the Dauntless? Yes, yes, yes, you would, quite sorry that you'll have to be waiting on me in the same place as your former master, but some things cannot be avoided." It was at that point that Hales knew he had made the wrong decision. In the minutes before, he had been highly uneasy and afraid, but now he was dead sure he was doomed. He had grown fond of his old master, owing chiefly to the man's fairness. He would not feel the same for this officer, nor would he enjoy the same fairness. "Anyway, I think some coffee would be very good right about now--good and strong coffee, if you please." Hales' brain clued in on the word coffee and he snapped back to reality. Good and strong coffee... it had been some time since he had made coffee of any sort. Lord he hoped he could remember how. Bowing, the steward said, "At once, sir." Then, even though it was torture to ask: "Will that be all, sir?" |
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| Frederick St Montgomery | 14 Jul 2008, 11:35 PM Post #6 |
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Rear Admiral of the Fleet
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"At once, sir." St Montgomery smirked, leaning back in his chair quite at home at the large desk, and rather liking the affirmative responses to his commands. It was oh, so deliciously wonderful. And the only thing that would make that coffee better was perhaps seeing that Swann girl in one of those dresses--the tiny thin ones with the gossamer fabric, serving it to him out of Norrington's skull, while Gillette was dancing on the end of a noose. Oh, that was nice...when he was alone later he figured that he should play that fantasy out for all it was worth. A rather clever one, he thought. Though it would probably not come to pass, it was still worth at least an hour's worth of entertainment. And a couple more hours in each passing day. "Will that be all, sir?" "Hmm?" St Montgomery said, not aware that the steward had still been present in the room. What was he still doing here? Hadn't he given the fellow orders? He was about to yell at the man before he thought better of it. "That will do," he said, "just the coffee." He waved his hand at the steward, and put his feet up on the desk, leaning back on the chair so that it balanced on the back two legs. |
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| Barnaby Hales | 22 Jul 2008, 08:51 AM Post #7 |
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Perfect Obedience Through Fear
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"That will do," the officer said, "just the coffee." And he waved his hand dismissively, indicating that the conversation, if it could be called that, was over. Hales made a quick exit, trying his best to keep his despair from showing at all. He wasn't sure he could survive working for this man. His faltering comfort with his station was sinking, no it was sunk all down now. Every day was going to be like this, or worse. The steward all but ran from the work-offices. He could not take too long making the coffee, lest his new master show an even worse temper than he had done already. Hopefully the mess stewards could help him. There was no way he could go back to that office without the desired beverage - Hales was not a brave man at the best of times and now he was the closest to outright terror that he'd ever been. He tripped over the loose floorboard just inside the door of the officers' mess; distracted as he was, he forgot to step over the board. "The Commodore wishes for a pot of coffee," he told one of the mess stewards when the man looked over at him in surprise. "At once." It was not how he would have liked to carry out the errand, but as long as he kept his master at least partially placated, perhaps he might have some peace. |
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4:02 AM Jul 30
