Rapscallion by James McGee Read Free Book Online Page A

He saw the privateer
place his hand on the man's shoulder, lean in close and speak softly into his
ear.
    The man said
something back. Lasseur spoke again and the man's smile slipped. Then he was
holding his hands up and backing away. Lasseur did not touch the boy but
squatted down and spoke to him.
    A voice in
Hawkwood's ear said, "Right, it's all arranged; a room with a view for
both of you." Murat looked around. "Where's your friend?"
    "Here,"
Lasseur said. He was standing behind them. The boy stood at his side, clutching
his bedding. "This is Lucien. Lucien, say hello to Captain Hooper and our
interpreter, Lieutenant .. . my apologies, I didn't catch your given name."
    "Auguste,"
Murat said.
    "Lieutenant
Auguste Murat," Lasseur finished. He fixed Murat with an uncompromising
eye. "I want space for the boy as well."
    Murat's eyebrows
rose. He shook his head. "I regret that's not possible."
    "Make it
possible," Lasseur said.
    "There's no
room, Captain," Murat protested.
    "There's
always room," Lasseur said.
    Murat looked
momentarily taken aback by Lasseur's abrasive tone. He stared down at the boy,
took in the small, pale features and then threw Lasseur a calculating look.
"It could be expensive."
    "You do surprise me," Lasseur said.
    Murat's brow wrinkled,
unsure how to respond to Lasseur's barb, before it occurred to him it was
probably best to tell them to wait once more and that he would return.
    Hawkwood and
Lasseur watched him go.
    "I have a
son," Lasseur said. He did not elaborate but looked down. "How old
are you, boy?"
    The boy gripped
his bedding. In a wavering voice, he said, "Ten, sir."
    "Are you
now? Well, stick with us and you might just make it to eleven."
    Murat reappeared
and, unsmiling, crooked a finger. "Come with me."
    Stepping around and
over bodies, heads bent, the two men and the boy followed the interpreter
towards the starboard side of the deck.
    "You're in
luck -" Murat spoke over his shoulder "- another place has become
vacant. The former owner doesn't need it any more."
    "That's fortunate,"
Lasseur said. He caught Hawkwood's eye and winked. "And why's that?"
    "He
died."
    Lasseur halted
in his tracks.
    Murat held up
his hands. "Natural causes, Captain, on my mother's life."
    Lasseur looked
sceptical.
    "From the
fever. They say it's due to the air coming off the marshes."
Murat jabbed a thumb towards the open grilles. "It's the same both sides
of the river. It's what most men die of, that and consumption. That's the way
it happens on the hulks. You rot from the inside out."
    Hawkwood noticed
that the prisoners near the gun ports were making use of the light to read or
write, using the bench along the side of the hull as a makeshift table. Some
were conversing with their companions while they wrote. As he passed, Hawkwood
realized they were conducting classes. He looked over a hunched shoulder and
guessed by the illustrations and indecipherable script that the subject was
probably mathematics.
    "It's best
to try and keep busy," Murat said, interrupting Hawkwood's observations.
"You'll lose your mind, otherwise. Many men have." The lieutenant
pointed. "Here you are, gentlemen. Welcome to your new home."
    Compared to
where they'd just come from, it was the height of luxury. Hawkwood wondered how
Murat had persuaded the previous incumbents to relinquish such a valuable
location. It didn't seem possible that anyone would want to do so voluntarily.
Maybe they were dead, too.
    They weren't,
Murat assured them. "It's just that they prefer food to a view. You'd feel
that way, too, if you hadn't had a square meal for a week," Murat added,
pocketing his fee. "You'll learn that soon enough. If I were you, I'd
guard my purse. Don't indulge in fripperies. The price you've just paid for
your sleeping spot will buy three weeks' rations. Not that they give us anything
worth eating, mind you. There are some who'd say death from the fever would be
a merciful release. If you want to make a bit of money, by the way, you