//------------------------------// // Chapter 1: Any Port in a Storm // Story: Faithful and Strong // by Golden Scribe //------------------------------// “Come in!” Hornblower said sharply as the first rap sounded against the cabin door. When Lieutenant Bush poked his head through, he rose to his feet. “What’s the news?” he asked, more brusquely than he’d intended. Still, this was a serious matter, and he was sure Bush understood that. Indeed, Bush merely touched his hat as he closed the door behind him, his expression neutral as he gave his report. “The Féroce gave us a good thrashing, I’m afraid, sir. The masts are intact, but they’re going to require a lot of sanding and patching to make sure they stay that way. There’s been damage to the sides; nothing serious, but we’ll need to lay anchor if we want to safely repair it. Worst of all, their last broadside took out a large section of our port gunline. We’ve lost at least three cannons, possibly five.” Hornblower cursed. “Casualties?” Bush smiled faintly. “Not as bad as one might expect. Only ten dead and fifteen wounded. Other than crewman Fitz, who’s probably going to lose his eye, most of them should recover in a week or so.” “That’s one bit of good news at least.” Hornblower sighed, sitting down at his desk again and pulling out his maps. With the Féroce still out there, it would be risky to attempt the trip back to England. Better to find a place to hide until repairs were made, ideally a small uninhabited island. A quick examination of the maps revealed that the nearest island was at least five day’s sailing from their current location. It wasn’t ideal, but as long as they didn’t run into the Féroce, it would be a fairly smooth journey. Making up his mind, Hornblower looked back up at Bush. “Set a course for Southwest by West. We’ll be putting in at the nearest island for repairs. In the meantime, set the crew to doing what they can to start repairs.” “Aye, sir, Southwest by West. I shall report again in the evening to keep you informed of the repair progress.” Bush touched his hat again and left. Hornblower remained at his desk, tracing the route on the map, his mind already piecing together alternate options should they run into trouble. *** Hornblower was in his cabin on the second day of their journey, looking over the reports of the damage to the cannons and wondering if they would be possible to repair before returning to England, when someone knocked on his door. It wasn’t an urgent knock, as it would have been if a ship has been sighted, it was more…scattered. As though the person on the other end of the door was trying to puzzle something out and was only barely focused on the door. “Come in.” Hornblower called out, his curiosity piqued. Midshipman Savage entered the room, giving a quick salute. “Sir, the lookouts have spotted an island a few miles off. From what they can see, it’s a fairly large island, yet it appears uninhabited.” Hornblower immediately understood Savage’s confusion; as far as he knew, the trip to the repair spot shouldn’t have taken them past any other island. He quickly consulted his maps. No, there was no sign of an island, especially a large one. “Uninhabited, you say, Savage?” “We’ll need to get closer to be sure, but there was no sign of ships.” Hornblower rose to his feet. “Change course towards the island. If it still appears uninhabited when we get closer, we’ll look for a safe place to drop anchor and make our repairs there. I’ll be up on deck presently to take a look for myself.” “Aye, sir.” When Hornblower joined Bush on the quarterdeck, Bush immediately handed over the spyglass. “What do you make of it, sir?” Hornblower peered through the glass. Even from this distance, he could make out rocky crags of mountains, before they abruptly cut off and gave way to thick green trees. A strange arrangement, to be sure, but nature was known for her odd little tricks. “It does seem odd that this island has never been noted on our maps, but perhaps this particular area of ocean hasn’t been properly catalogued. The map shows a wide stretch of ocean, after all.” “Perhaps we’ll have made a new discovery, sir,” Bush said, a bit of eagerness in his voice, “And then perhaps they’ll name the island after you.” Hornblower gave him a sidelong glance as he passed the spyglass back. “I highly doubt that. But, if it truly is uninhabited, perhaps we can use it as a resupply station. It would certainly aid the war effort.” “Indeed it would, sir.” Bush smiled. Hornblower gave a faint smile back before gazing out at the small dot on the horizon. He would never admit as much, but he was curious about this new island. What would it be like up close? Slowly, more and more of the island came into view. It was fairly large, as islands go, and a sort of jagged oval shape. Hornblower ordered the helmsman to sail around it, looking for signs of life and a suitable place to weigh anchor and make repairs. Based on the jagged cliffs and overgrown trees, it did seem that this island was truly wild, but one could never be too careful. Twenty minutes after coming abreast of the island, the lookout gave an excited cry. “There’s a large, circular bay nearby! Only one entrance, and the water seems fairly deep. It’s as if it was made just for our situation!” “Take us in, helmsman,” Hornblower called over his shoulder, “The sooner we can get repairs underway, the better.” The crew, energized by the possibility of a safe haven and the chance to set foot on a strange island, put their backs into their work, and they were safely in the bay in what seemed no time at all. “Well done, men!” Hornblower said, as soon as they’d weighed anchor as close to shore as they could, “You’ll all be given an extra rations of spirit tonight.” The men cheered at that, then fell silent, waiting for Hornblower’s orders. Hornblower nodded down at the crewmen. “I want a full examination of the ship, to make sure nothing has been missed. Then I want crews out along the sides making repairs with the supplies we have available. Mr. Savage!” “Aye, sir!” “Take a small landing party and take a look inland. Look for fresh water, fruit, trees…anything you think we can use for resupply. And don’t forget to keep an eye out for any natives.” “Aye-aye, sir!” Savage called. Hornblower nodded. “You know your orders. Dismissed!” The crew immediately scrambled to work, Savage pointing at six men to accompany him. Satisfied, Hornblower decided to descend below decks. He’d make his own contributions to the repair efforts by assisting in checking for damage in the powder room and along the gunlines. *** The landing crew had barely been gone an hour when the lookout spotted them returning. Puzzled, Hornblower went to meet them on shore, Bush following him out of concern. Hornblower looked the men over as they descended the small hill to the beach. There was no sign of a struggle, but the expression’s on the men’s faces ranged from puzzled to worried. Savage seemed the most baffled of all, actually glancing over his shoulder as he reached the sand. “What news, Mr. Savage?” Hornblower pressed. “It’s…” Savage hesitated, glancing at the crew. They all gave encouraging nods. Savage took a deep breath and continued. “We found a river nearby that will certainly suit our freshwater needs. I sent out crewmen Gilbert and Yates to look for food, and they returned a minute later, telling us all to come and see. We followed, and a little ways away…I couldn’t believe my eyes.” “What is it, Savage?” Hornblower said sharply, not wanting the mystery to be dragged out. "There’s a town, sir. Just on the other side of the bay. It’s incredibly well-built, and it looks, if not new, then that it’s being maintained.” “Did you speak to the townsfolk?” “That’s just it, sir. There are no townsfolk. There wasn’t a human to be seen.” Hornblower caught the choice of words immediately. “But there was animal life?” “Yes, sir. We were just on the outskirts, trying our best not to be seen, but we caught glimpses of life moving about. They appeared to be horses of some kind. But the thing is, sir, they aren’t like any horses I’ve ever seen. They didn’t appear to be very big, and…” he hesitated, glancing back at the men for confirmation. “And what?” Bush demanded, correctly picking up on Hornblower’s irritation. “Sir, you’ll think I’m crazy, but one of the horses was as blue as the water the Lydia’s currently resting in. Another was a shade of orange I’ve only seen on fabric. And there was a third the color of a ripe lemon.” Hornblower wasn’t sure at all what to make of that. Savage and the others certainly didn’t look like they were trying to pull a hoax, and there was no indication that they were speaking this way due to injury, illness, or any other outside influence. But it didn’t seem possible that they were telling the truth. He wracked his brain, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Perhaps there were natives on the island, but they had caught a glimpse of the ship and were hiding to make sure Hornblower’s crew was peaceful. As for the horses, perhaps they were naturally small on this island, and the natives painted them odd colors as some sort of ritual. He was just about to suggest that Savage return to the town with a flag of truce when he raised his eyes upwards and the words died in his throat. Standing up on the hillside were four horses, looking down at them. Savage hadn’t been lying about the colors; one was brick red, another a deep forest green, a third a very light purple, and the last the lemon yellow Savage had mentioned. They were just standing there, unblinking, and Hornblower got the distinct impression that they were actually scrutinizing the crew. Glancing to the side, he could see Bush looking up at the horses, similarly perplexed. Then, the lemon yellow horse unfurled a pair of wings, rose into the air, and glided down to the beach. Hornblower’s mouth fell open, and he scrambled to shut it. Surely he must be dreaming. Pegasus was a creature of Greek myth, not a real creature. Did this island generate some sort of hallucinogenic substance? The horse touched down onto the sand and walked towards them, now actively looking each man up and down. As Hornblower debated whether or not to reach for his sword, the horse looked him directly in the face and said; “Forgive me for being rude, but we’d like to know who you are and what you’re doing here.”