Vendetta: The Dorset Boy - Book 6 Read online

  This is a work of Fiction. All characters and stories are fictional although based in historical settings. If you see your name appear in the story it is a coincidence.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, except brief extracts for the purpose of review, without the permission of the copyright owner

  Credits

  Thanks to Kate from Blondie Marie Editing who edited this book, and to Dawn Spears the brilliant artist who created the cover artwork. My wife who is so supportive and believes in me. Last my dogs Blaez and Zeeva and cat Vaskr who watch me act out the fight scenes and must wonder what the hell has gotten into their boss.

  Copyright© 2019 Christopher C Tubbs

  THANK YOU FOR READING!

  I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. Reviews are so helpful to authors. I really appreciate all reviews, both positive and negative. If you want to leave one, you can do so on Amazon, through the website or Twitter.

  About the Author

  Christopher C Tubbs is a descendent of a long line of Dorset clay miners and has chased his family tree back to the 16th century in the Isle of Purbeck. He left school at sixteen to train as an Avionics Craftsman, has been a public speaker at conferences for most of his career in the Aerospace and Automotive industries and was one of the founders of a successful games company back in the 1990’s. Now in his sixties, he finally got around to writing the story he had been dreaming about for years. Thanks to Inspiration from the great sea authors like Alexander Kent, Dewey Lambdin, Patrick O’Brian and Dudley Pope he was finally able to put digit to keyboard. He lives in the Netherlands with his wife, two Dutch Shepherds and a Norwegian Forest cat.

  You can visit him on his website

  www.thedorsetboy.com

  The Dorset Boy, Facebook page.

  Or tweet him @ChristopherCTu3

  The Dorset Boy Series Timeline

  1792 – 1795.

  Book 1. A Talent for Trouble, Mart joins the Navy as an Assistant Steward and ends up a midshipman.

  1795 – 1798.

  Book 2. The Special Operations Flotilla, Marty is a founder member of the Special Operations Flotilla, learns to be a spy and passes as lieutenant.

  1799 – 1802.

  Book 3. Agent Provocateur, Marty teams up with Linette to infiltrate Paris, marries Caroline, becomes a father and fights pirates in Madagascar.

  1802 – 1804.

  Book 4. In Dangerous Company, Marty and Caroline are in India helping out Arthur Wellesley, combating French efforts to disrupt the East India Company and French sponsored pirates on Reunion. James Stockley born

  1804 – 1805.

  Book 5. The Tempest, piracy in the Caribbean, French interference, Spanish gold and the death of Nelson. Marty makes Captain.

  1806 – 1807.

  Book 6. Vendetta, A favour carried out for a prince, a new ship, the S.O.F. move to Gibraltar, the battle of Maida, counter espionage in Malta and a Vendetta declared and closed.

  Contents

  Chapter 1: A festive break

  Chapter 2: Georgie’s Confession

  Chapter 3: The Hunt for Marie

  Chapter 4: A game of seek

  Chapter 5: Unfinished business

  Chapter 6: A Prince’s Gratitude.

  Chapter 7: A Rainy Month in Portsmouth

  Chapter 8: Shake down to Gibraltar

  Chapter 9: Moving House

  Chapter 10: Scouting

  Chapter 11: The Swedish Knight

  Chapter 12: A Spanish Cruise

  Chapter 13: The Gozo Deception

  Chapter 14: To Spring a Trap

  Chapter 15: The Battle of Giannutri Bay

  Chapter 16: Vendetta

  Chapter 17: Double trouble.

  Chapter 18: Falling on deaf ears

  Chapter 19: Omega and Alpha

  Chapter 20: Like falling off a log

  Chapter 21: Run and Fight

  Chapter 22: The fruits of our labours.

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  An excerpt from Book 7

  Chapter 1: A festive break

  Hood’s plans for the Special Operations Flotilla (S.O.F.) meant that Marty would have some rare and valuable home time. He was looking forward to it as he felt like he had missed much of his children’s early childhood, it was late 1805, and Bethany was now six and James three.

  All his ships were being refitted, which would take time as none of them were particularly new, and they had been used hard in the Caribbean. The Alouette was a former French Navy Corvette, the Hornfleur a former French Whaler and now a transport/landing craft for the Marines, the Eagle a Baltimore Clipper and the Tempest an old Jackass Frigate. He had been promised at least a thirty-six-gun frigate to replace the Tempest as the Navy didn’t want to buy her back in, but there was no sign of one yet.

  His crew were all on leave except the harbour watches on the ships. This was not normal practice in the Navy as sailors would normally run if let ashore. However, all his men were volunteers, that went with the special status of the S.O.F., and while some would decide to retire on the prize money they had made while sailing with him most would come back.

  The band of men that were his followers were like an extended family, staying with him wherever he went and were known as the Shadows. This select group had grown over the years and although they had lost a few through death, more had joined. He had also invited any of his crew who had no families in England, and there were many, to stay at his family estate in Cheshire.

  Now, as the Christmas season approached, the preparation for the festivities was intense, led by Marty’s wife Caroline, the estate team were being tested by the sheer scale of the celebrations.

  They needed enough beer, mead, wine and food to entertain three hundred estate workers and Marty’s followers and men. To complicate things there were many nationalities as well: Basques, French, German, Dutch, African and even a couple from the Nordics.

  Some of the Africans had no idea what Christmas was. They had been rescued before becoming full slaves when Marty had bought them off the block to free them. They had only recently been exposed to Christianity by their crewmates and had never met a priest. The others, who were recruited from the slums in Jamaica, had been converted to Christianity before they had joined Marty.

  Marty wasn’t overly religious and, like many sea captains, had a pragmatic approach to religion at sea, but as the Lord of the Manor he had to set an example and made sure he attended services at the estate church. This was greatly appreciated by the local vicar, the reverend Iain McQuat, who had been appointed by Bishop Majendie of Chester, whose diocese they fell under.

  The Reverend caught a dose of holy zeal, took the conversion of the Africans as his personal mission and determined to bring them to God. However, the boys soon proved they were not the ignorant savages that he presumed they were. To start with they had all learnt English, the version used on ships, and were, to a man, intelligent. They sat in a semicircle facing him as he read parts of the scriptures to them.

  It soon became apparent that they already knew some of the scriptures and certain church rituals. Marty had a strong suspicion about who had taught them. They asked questions about baptism, the eucharist and confessional. All Lutheran traditions. I will have to have a word with Ackermann, he chuckled to himself as he saw the Right Reverend struggling to sell his version of Christianity.

  That apart, the preparations were going as planned, a veritable convoy of carts were pulling up the drive delivering everything a good
party would need. He watched a flock of geese, bred on the estate, being herded into a pen by a well-trained border collie.

  Earlier Blaez, who was in his prime, had occasion to challenge a younger drover’s dog who had the temerity to pee on a post in his territory.

  A challenge was thrown down and accepted. The combatants threw themselves into the fight with enthusiasm and murderous intent!

  Fur flew and teeth clashed to a background of blood curdling snarls and ended with the dogs being dragged apart before they could do any real damage to each other.

  Blaez was banished indoors until the deliveries had been completed and once released made a beeline for the post, well and truly washed it down then scratched the ground around it with stiff legs to say, “MINE!”

  The weather turned and it started to snow which was a new experience for those brought up in the tropics. Samuel ran into Marty’s study, eyes wide in amazement,

  “Boss, the sky is falling!” he cried pointing out of the window.

  Marty looked out and saw the large white flakes drifting to the ground and restrained a laugh,

  “it’s alright Samuel, that’s just snow,” he explained and when Samuel still didn’t understand, “it’s just frozen water.”

  “Don’t look like the ice on the pond,” Samuel insisted.

  Marty opened the window and put his hand out to catch some of the flakes and show Samuel that they melted to water on his skin. Once he saw that, he put his own hand out and tried it for himself, a look of awe on his face. Later Marty had to laugh when he heard him say to some of the other Africans,

  “It just frozen water, didn’t you know that?”

  Tom had finally asked Marty if he could marry Amara, the Indian servant that had stayed with them after they left the sub-continent. Marty and Caroline were her surrogate parents while she was with them. She was a Christian already so that made things easier, but the vicar still had reservations about the mixed-race nature of the union. Marty who had immediately given the marriage his blessing, had a quiet word with the Right Reverend and made a substantial donation to the church of a pair of large gold candlesticks which turned him into an enthusiastic supporter immediately.

  Marty’s family wouldn’t join them for Christmas as Cheshire was just too far from Dorset to travel that time of year. They did, however, receive a delivery of ten firkins of good Dorset scrumpy as a gift from one estate to the other. Scrumpy was made from apples and was almost as strong as wine. That made it dangerous as the temptation was to drink it like beer that was a quarter the strength. The Basques absolutely loved it as it was reminiscent of the Sagardoa they drank at home, but, as Tom pointed out, “that stuff is bloody lethal and if you drink it don’t fart ‘cus it turns your guts to water!”

  Christmas eve arrived and after a hearty breakfast the family attended midday mass with the children at the local church. After the service Marty and Caroline oversaw the distribution of gifts to the poor of the parish. Pragmatic as always, they ensured the gifts would ease their lives at least for the Christmas season. They also attended midnight mass which meant Marty had been to church more times in that week than the whole of the rest of the year.

  Christmas day was spent with the family, Caroline’s parents arrived in time for lunch which started at two o’clock and continued until five. Presents were exchanged and games played. It was a most enjoyable and relaxing time.

  Caroline’s sister Julia arrived on Boxing Day with her husband and children giving them more presents to open. Her husband Frederick was a post captain in the Navy and gifted Marty with one of the new brass framed sextants. These precision instruments were replacing quadrants as their production became easier and their size decreased. He in turn gifted the good captain with a set of solid gold buttons for his dress uniform.

  The big party started in the afternoon. Two of the barns were commandeered and set out with tables of food laid out down one side with benches and tables filling up all the rest of the space. Marty and the family had the top table, naturally, the managers and senior staff sat closest to them with the rest of the estate in reducing level of rank further away. The barns were heated with braziers burning charcoal which gave good heat without too much smoke.

  During the dinner, Marty and Caroline took a walk to the second barn to wish the people there a Happy Christmas and make sure they had plenty to eat and drink. Most of the ladies who worked in the dairy were in this second barn as they had only low worker status. Their husbands, who Marty had pressed because they were drunkards or abusive were still serving in the Navy, but the women seemed to be thriving and well satisfied with life.

  Once the food was finished the tables were cleared away and the benches were put around the sides of the main barn. A group of musicians gathered and started to play popular tunes for everyone to dance to. Marty and Caroline got things moving by dancing a Reel which soon had many couples up and moving.

  Outside after dark a huge bonfire was lit in a paddock behind the barns and many people danced around it even though the temperature was well below freezing. The party wound down as midnight approached and the revellers staggered back to their homes or just wrapped themselves in their cloaks and slept in the barn.

  They left for London on the twenty-seventh of December as Marty wanted to visit Chatham and see how the work on his vessels was progressing. As usual it took two days and involved stopovers at their favourite coaching inns. The Shadows accompanied them without Tom who was honeymooning with his new wife in their new cottage that Marty and Caroline had gifted them. The rest of the crewmen would stay until the ships were ready. Tom would keep an eye on them and make sure they didn’t cause any trouble.

  Just south of Birmingham, as they passed through the black country with its smoke, soot and poverty, a group of hapless, sorry-looking ruffians blocked the road and attempted to rob them.

  “Boss, you better see this,” laughed Samuel from up top as the coach stopped. Marty stepped out and took in the ragged clothes, the array of mismatched weapons held ineptly, and the way the men clumped together for mutual support.

  “Who is your leader?’

  A slightly more determined-looking man stepped forward.

  “What do you want?”

  “We want yeow to give us yeow weapons and hand over yeow mooney,” he said in a distinct black country accent with all the authority he could muster.

  Marty made a show of thinking about that.

  “Well if you want either you will have to take them,” he said in a worryingly calm voice.

  His pistols appeared in his hands and with a ripple of clicks the rest of his people followed his lead.

  The look of surprise on the faces of the desperadoes was a picture when they realised, they were suddenly facing an array of weapons held professionally by every adult member of the coach party, including the women. Worse, several men had managed to get behind them, and they were surrounded.

  “Up to now, no one has gotten hurt and no money has changed hands.” Marty smiled at them so reasonably that some even looked hopeful. “Now if you would be so kind as to pile your weapons there,” he indicated a spot beside the spokesman, “we can resolve this without any of you getting killed.”

  Samuel stepped down off the carriage and put the weapons in a cornsack he had found on the roof. He would later toss them over the side of a bridge as they crossed a river.

  “If you are hungry and want a job because, to be frank, you aren’t cut out to be highwaymen, then make your way to the Royal dockyards at Chatham in Kent and ask for Captain Stockley. If you make it there, I will give you a place on one of my ships as a landsman.” The pistols disappeared and he pulled out a purse.

  “Here are two shillings each. I pay better than the King’s shilling. Make it to Chatham and there will be a sovereign waiting for each of you there.” He walked amongst them and handed each of them their coins. When he was finished, he got back in the carriage and they continued their journey, leaving the astonished
men behind them. Blaez opened one eye in greeting from his place on the floor; he hadn’t bothered to even get up to look during the whole episode.

  “That was very generous, Sir,” Mary, their nurse complimented him.

  “Not really,” Marty replied, “half that set out won’t make it and the ones that do will have shown the resourcefulness that I want in my crew. In the end, I win.”

  London was cold and wet, the snow they had enjoyed in Cheshire hadn’t settled in the warmer Southeast and instead the whole city was wreathed in a persistent drizzle mixed with smoke. They got settled into the house and sorted through the social invites that had been delivered in case they made an appearance.

  One stood out from the rest as it had the royal seal on the envelope. They had been invited to the Royal New Year’s Eve Ball, ostensibly by the King but more likely by the regent. There was a separate note from Hood saying that, should they be going, Marty should be in uniform as his exploits against the Spanish treasure fleet in the Caribbean had been published in the Gazette and he was somewhat of a personality.

  “I suppose they need something to take the public’s mind off the death of Nelson,” Caroline guessed.

  As he only had to put on his best uniform with all his honours Marty had time to take one of their coaches down to Chatham. Caroline was in a frenzy of dressmaking and Marty was glad to be out of the way.

  Samuel and Blaez came along for the ride and to provide a bit of added protection. When he got there, he was shocked to see the yard was still full of ships waiting to be repaired after Trafalgar and was told in no uncertain terms his little ships would have to wait. It was a cold, slow trip back to London.