H.M.S Valor: Treachery And Triumph: A war time adventure on the high seas Cal Clement (free ebooks for android txt) 📖

chord with Admiral Sharpe, soon William began to hear the marines passing word to fix bayonets. Despite the sweltering sun a chill ran through him, attaching bayonets was as sure an omen of combat as the opening salvo of a bow chaser. But indeed, this would be a gritty affair, up close if it ignited and every bit as explosive.

The mansion stood tall in front of them, gated and with stone cobbled streets approaching the front. Admiral Sharp stepped to the side of the double column and let them pass until he saw William with the detachment from the Valor.

“Lieutenant Pike, I would like for you and the marines of the Valor to accompany me inside to see the Governor when we get there. The rest of the party will secure the grounds and stand guard while we attend the Lord Governor,” said Elliot briskly.

“Yes Sir. Is there anything else you need done Admiral?” Will asked, trying not to let his nerves show.

“Keep your saber handy and that imposing look, you’ll do fine otherwise. If something should happen to me, get the men back to the fleet and respond accordingly,” said Elliot. His impression did not change, nor his tone, but Will almost stopped in his tracks. What could he mean ‘If something should happen to me’, what did he expect would happen? They were going to confront a Governor suspected of crimes, yes, but not lining up against Napoleon’s formations. The column finally entered the Governor’s gated compound and orders began flying around. The marines fanned out and moved through the compound, cautiously checking corners, window and doors. Once the outside was secured, Admiral Sharpe, Lieutenant Pike and Lieutenant Harper made their way up the final steps to the grand front entrance. A pair of marines quickly moved in front of them and opened the double doors followed immediately by another pair who entered into the atrium.

Inside as Will and Elliot entered, they immediately noticed the mansion had been stripped bare, devoid of the excessive finery Governor Alton so famously indulged in. Paintings were gone, furniture overturned, and fixtures stripped everywhere they looked.

“What in hell?” said Sharpe, his voice betraying his confusion and an edge of anxiety.

“It looks as though someone may have beaten us here Sir,” one of the marines said. Sergeant Wilson, one of the complement from the Valor was pointing out a blood stain at the foot of the curving staircase.

“So it would seem. Damn it! Lieutenant Harper get me a runner, we need to get word from the garrison and find out what the blazes has happened in Kingston.” Sharpe snapped.

“Yes Sir.” Harper replied slipping outside to fetch a marine for the task.

Will walked toward the rear of the house through a door where a desk stood amid a floor full of overturned bookshelves. On top of the desk lay several charts and a log. A small jar of ink had spilled over onto the desk and there was a deep gouge into the surface of the dark wood. William scanned over the charts, noting nothing of significance. He pushed one off of the next, sorting through the pile. They were all detailed charts of the coasts surrounding Jamaica. William raised a brow as an idea crossed his mind. Shuffling back through the charts he looked for the cove where Admiral Sharpe had discovered the slaver camp nearby. Twice over he sorted through the pile unable to find the chart for the location he was after. His search was interrupted by the sound of the front door of the mansion slamming open.

“Admiral! Admiral Sharpe Sir!” Lieutenant Harper called.

“What is it?” came the Admiral’s reply as William ran out into the atrium.

“A column on horse approaches Sir.”

“How many?” the Admiral asked quickly making his way to the door. The Lieutenant began to respond, but it was lost in Admiral Sharpe’s next order.

“Form up marines. Make ready,” he shouted, then turning to the marines inside the atrium, “To the roof lads, I want you to cover us from above. If a fight starts, aim smartly.” Elliot stepped out into the burning sunlight to the sight of a column of men on horseback, entering the compound gates. Will fell in beside the Admiral and Lieutenant Harper as the column came to a halt. The lead rider approached to a few paces in front of the officers.

“I have brought a dispatch from Lord Governor Alton, Admiral,” said the rider, pulling a sealed parchment from his coat.

“Tim, isn’t it? As recollection serves, the Governor introduced us. Where is he? Governor Alton, I desire to speak to him,” Elliot asked cutting straight to the matter.

“He has chosen to relocate for his own safety. Due to your treacherous actions the colony of Jamaica is not safe,” replied Tim, a grin forming with his words. “But by all means. Read for yourself Sir.”

“Why would a Governor of a British Royal colony, Crown appointed, be sending his orders through an American?” Elliot said, making no move to retrieve the letter.

“To that I will not speak. Not that it is any concern of yours, you are a servant of the King, an order is an order is it not? Perhaps a more amenable commander could be found for your fleet should you continue your unruly behaviors.” Tim’s eyes moved upward toward the roof, “I heard I missed you in the cove. How unfortunate, meeting you there could have saved me some trouble. Now Admiral, be a good sailor and take your orders.” He dropped the envelope to the ground. William could see Elliot’s face flush red. He stood stone still, unmoving to the insults being laid on him by the arrogant American.

“And the fire sortie at the ‘rebel camp’, that was you as well?” said the Admiral, his voice lowered slightly and Will could see his anger beginning to boil.

“Yes. Your fleet performed remarkably in that respect, my thanks to you Sir. See? I can be a reasonable fellow, I just require some, cooperation. Your