Heroes Return VI: Book One London Chapter 30

 

30.

 

 

“All abroad!” The Chief Steward of the Trojan called out to the ones waiting at the dock. “We sailed within the hour.”

The Chief Steward sported the seafaring look on his chin; the classic, rugged style defined by a full, thick beard grown long; past the chin and paired with a heavy moustache. He wore the mariner cap with the doble breasted dark jacket, with the crisp white pants and dark leather shoes. He had a misstep on his footings, and had balance himself on the railings.

“Taken aback huh, Chief.” ( Surprised or shocked, originating from when wind shifts and blows sails flat against the mast.) “Or was it the earlier than usual, bottle of rum, huh?” Jonah the assistant steward nudged the Chief.

“I had not any drink as yet, Jonah.” The Chief frowned at the sailor. “And we ain’t at sea yet, Jonah. So, behave yourself or you will find yourself assigned to the decks below.”

“You seem to be off balance there.” Jonah looked at the Chief. “You are sure to take on the journey. I heard your last medical report held some questions that you need to stay on shore.”

“Not a whisper on my report. I am fine as a dandy lad now. Now get yourself on deck.” The Chief called on the sailor.

“Any loose cannon?” (An unpredictable person, originating from dangerous, unsecured cannons on deck ). Jonah asked. “The last journey had us a lunatic who had us some hard times chasing him around the decks. I …….”

“Deck it, Jonah. The only loose cannon is yourself. I am akin to lashing you to the anchor and tossing it over without the rope.” The last journey from the south had them a passenger who was delirious with the fever ailment and had to be restrained in the cabin. However, he escaped several times, and quoted the words of God on the decks, causing unease among the other passengers.

“That will the day the ship sails with the Flying Dutchman.” Jonah smiled. (The Flying Dutchman is a legendary 17th-century ghost ship doomed to sail the oceans forever, serving as a dreaded omen of doom for sailors.)

“Clam it, sailor.” The Chief put a stop to the jabbering sailor, who is his Aunt Petunia’s son and God blessed the lady for having still able to breathe at the elderly age of over a century.

“Jonah, we had a change of passengers listing. Some of them cancelled at the last moment; thirteen to be exact, and was replaced by a group who paid hefty for the passage. They called themselves the Pure Hearted.”

“Another pack of God’s fearing offerings. God, why can we not have decent passengers who will not tell us their interpretation of God.”

“Jonah, place them in the same deck, and bloody well tell Jerome to keep his distance from them. I do want him offering any heretics passages to these ‘puritans’.”

“Bloody works to relocate the cabins.” Jonah cursed out. “And Chief, we have two other new passengers in First Class; one lordy person and his aide.”

“Oh great. Check on Javier if we stocked on the caviar? We may need that for the lord.”

“I checked, and Javier said, sod off. He will serve the Lord, cod and haddock like any decent Englishman will be favoured any day.” Jonah said the exact words from the dining staff.

“Clam it, Jonah.” The Chief then turned to the newly arrived. “Welcome aboard the Trojan.”

“Master Masterson, and my entourage. Members of the Pure Hearted.” Ian Masterson who was in disguise, handed over the stacks of tickets and stepped aboard.

“Welcome, gentlemen. Aha, I see your names. Late entry but we have a more cabins than passenger this trip. I am ever pleased to accommodate the congregation members. We will prefer to be left alone and please have our meals sent to the cabin daily.”

The Chief smiled at the leader of the congregation. He did a head count and then reached for the tickets.

“This way, Sir.” The Chief counted the numbers of tickets. “Twelve, I got the numbers.”

The Chief then signalled Jonah to lead the way, and watched the passing faces of the entourage with a drawn smile across his face. They took off after Jonah while the Chief grind his teeth from muttering any profanities. In the thoughts of the Chief, them jacks looked they were sauteed from Pure Hell instead of Pure Hearted. He had seen his share of bad fellows and those looked they just been released from Newgate Prison.

“My ticket, Sir.” The Chief was jolted from his daymare and stared at the extended offering of the new guest. “Lord John Greystokes.”

The aristocrat had his servant to carry his luggage.

“My luggage’s are on the pier. I do not need your staff to assist.” Lord Greystokes indicated to the four sets of huge bags.

“My aide will carry my bags.” Lord Greystokes walked on, and was followed by two dark skinned men, whom the captain stopped.

“Sorry, not darkies on this deck.”

“Pardon me, Captain. They are my aides and will stay with me.” Lord Greystokes confronted the other. “Are you saying that they are not allowed?”

“No…… I meant to say, that the servants stayed below deck.” The captain explained the conditions imposed by the ship owner.

“Who is it? Lil Abaner. I will tell him I was mistreated and will never sail on his ships.” Lord Greystokes turned to leave.

“Lord Greystokes, my apologies. I can make an exception to the condition. They may stay with  you but they have to remain inside during the journey.”

“Amicable but the matter will be raised to your owner.” Lord Greystokes then proceeded on board.

“I will inform the staff. Please come abroad, Lord Greystokes. My deck staff will attend to you. The first-class cabins are on the upper deck. We have the private privy to the cabin.” The Chief smiled and saw the rifle bag carried by the attending aide.

“Are you travelling for a safari? The Sharps rifle is a good match against the savages there.”

“No, it is not a Sharps. It is a Winchester, and the rifle is to kill the white poachers …… truly savages. I do not consent to any safari. And also, the rude people.” Lord Greystokes stepped past the Chief. The person who followed though was a stout tall man.

“Mycroft, Government attaché. I am ……. an aide to Lord Greystokes. I am white and Victorian.” Mycroft smiled. “And I also carry a long bag. It contains my rifle.”

“I also used the mallet on the killing spree. I like to leave a bigger hole.” The man smiled. “Again, Mycroft is the name.”

“I am impressed. Jerome, please carry the gentleman’s bags.” The Chief placed on a wide smile.

“Not needed. I am capable of carrying my own.” Mycroft smiled and took after Lord Greystokes.

“Nathan, Paul. Missionary man. Here to speak of God’s words.” The passenger stepped on board next. He handed the ticket to the Chief. The man sported a short beard and had on the small, wire-rimmed spectacles with coloured glass; amber in shade. He wore the dark priest frock and the white collar. He carried on two suitcases with him.

“Welcome abroad, Sir. You will be boarded at the second deck.” The Chief smiled. “There are the other group of Pure Heated …… pardon me, Pure Hearted, who will be your neighbours.”

“I will not stay with them. They are puritans, and lack the moral upholding that I held.” The passenger looked at the Chief. “Give me another cabin on another deck for myself.”

“So be it, Sir. You will occupy the other end of the deck. We trust you will enjoy your journey.” The Chief smiled. He took a glance at  his watch and smiled. It was time to sail then.

“Blood good lot these are.”