First Tackle : written

[contentwithoutcommand]

[David has had... three days. He's taken three days living with his sister to sort out where he is and what's going on. Which, as far as he can tell, is all very vague.

Of course, a woman like Faith can't be expected to have any sort of reckoning of points of longitude and latitude, and he doesn't have the tools required yet to shoot the sun to take his own calculations. He is most certainly not in England or the West Indies, though. Of that much, he can be certain.

The Journal is his biggest contemplation. He's watched it, these last few days. He doesn't understand most of it, but he has seen how it can used to address letters and even speeches to the general population. How the latter works, he doesn't know. Really, how it works in general is a mystery, but he understands the written form best.

There's no telling who will read what he writes as he finally takes up a pen, so he's careful with his wording. Around him are about twenty sheets on which he's practiced before committing himself to this.]

The fourth of May.

[No location, he doesn't grasp that well enough yet to make that distinction.]

To whom it may concern:

[There may be an admiral or commodore or post-captain in this strange place, but he can't be sure, so a more general heading will have to do.]

I arrived here on the first of May. After making a basic of study of the area, I proceeded to the north where I found a village. It is the only one according to local information. I established a residence and read what is provided by way of documentation. I have since collected my possessions that have arrived: my uniform, my pocketwatch, and my telescope.

My ship is lost, my crew unaccounted for, and the fleet far out of range of communication. I write this dispatch in the hope that it might be received by someone in a position to answer it.

I am, most respectfully, your servant,

D Long, commander of His Majesty's Sloop Hornet, R. N.

[The strangest dispatch he has ever written, David thinks, but it will do. It might also give him some indication if there are any brother officers here, if any of his crew or squadron have suffered the same fate.]

Comments

[greenjacketed]

There's no coin, of course. But I reckon alternative measures could be made.

[ those mission points couldn't be transferable, but sharpe could imagine a gaming circle that ran on promised purchases. ]

[contentwithoutcommand]

Men who wants to will always find liquor and will always find stakes.

[It's said easily, and he drinks again with a smile.]

[greenjacketed]

Though hardly a vice, I plan to spend my damned free time growing a few vegetables. Not a proper farm, mind. Just a few to keep me and mine well fed, plus the few I promised to your sister in return for mending my shirts.

[contentwithoutcommand]

[David smiles a little more.]

Certainly sounds like a better idea than indulging vices. [The mention of his sister, though, makes David lean in a bit.] And, it seems, give my sister something to occupy herself.

Have you known one another long, Major?

[greenjacketed]

[ hmm. ]

Since the day of her arrival. [ he falls reticent, not yet certain he wants to express just how frightening the experience must have been for the woman. ]

[contentwithoutcommand]

I'm glad she hasn't been alone, then. [Not that he's willing to trust this man with his sister, but Long knows it's in his best interests to be friendly to find out what exactly has been going on.]

[greenjacketed]

...I fear she still has much to learn about this place.

[ or else the way of the world in any place but in her privileged circles. ]

[contentwithoutcommand]

[David frowns faintly at that, but he tries to keep his expression neutral.]

What makes you say that, Major?

[greenjacketed]

She's set on finding herself a maid of some sort, Commander. Although she's been told it's an unlikely thing in a place like this. [ not by him! of course. sharpe wouldn't presume to tell miss faith anything. but he's seen others be less gentle with her requests. ]

[contentwithoutcommand]

[David considers this, checking his initial protest that surely there is some woman, young or old, looking for a domestic situation. Even a maid-of-all-work, found in even the most modest of homes.

But, then, he manages:]

Because of the lack of funds available here, I imagine.

[greenjacketed]

Aye. Precisely so. [ a sip of brandy. ] She'd do better asking if any other young lass is looking to share quarters -- all friendly-like, you know? No doubt it's the tone of the offer what's turning'em off.

Perhaps you're best to explain it to her. I don't dare try. [ ... ] Not my place, I suppose

[contentwithoutcommand]

Faith is... stubborn. At best. [It's almost apologetic.]

If she's got her mind set on something, then that's that. But I'll try and speak to her. See if I can't convince her. Can't promise anything, though.

[greenjacketed]

...It's only that I hate to see the back-talk she gets for it. Them far-flung folk don't understand what it's like for someone such as her to be stuck here.

[contentwithoutcommand]

[Someone such as her.

Someone used to a full staff and expansive home. Now without even the slightest servant and in a few small rooms. That she hasn't lost her mind yet was surprising to David.]

I'll see if I can't manage to persuade her to... rephrase, at the very least.

[greenjacketed]

[ someone such as her -- so far above a man such as him. it's implied, though he doesn't outright say it. sharpe doesn't wear his low birth on his sleeve when the situation is relatively relaxed, such as this one. his clumsy words are the worst of it, but whatever he was? he's at least a major now. ]

May I ask an indelicate question, Commander? [ he moves to change the topic. ]

[contentwithoutcommand]

[Long arches an eyebrow, some of the open friendliness tapering off. His voice isn't cold, but he isn't quite as warm. He makes a slight gesture, finishing off his second glass of brandy.]

Of course, Major.

[greenjacketed]

Your year, man. What is it?

[ this is what passes for indelicate, these days. after all, he knows faith lags behind his. and he knows the pain of being the furthest ahead in a complex war... ]

[contentwithoutcommand]

Eighteen-hundred-and-five. [Three years after Faith last remembers. Which has made things more than interesting.]

And you, Major?

[greenjacketed]

Bloody hell. Eighteen-thirteen. You navy lads are always so bleeding slow, en't you?

[ just a spark of frustration. ]

[contentwithoutcommand]

Good God. [David stares a little, surprised. But it's not so shocking now. Now that he'd heard Faith talk about the events of the Peace, without having any idea what was to come next.]

This is all... incredible.

[greenjacketed]

...You adapt. It takes time, but I swear you do.

[contentwithoutcommand]

Christ. [It's staggering as far as he's concerned, but it's like being on a ship. A landsman will become a seaman just by being exposed to the environment, being around those familiar with it.] Eighteen-thirteen.

Remarkable. Damn remarkable.

[greenjacketed]

The only thing remarkable 'bout it is the fact that I managed to make it from oh-five to thirteen. [ hesitantly: ] If you have any questions, Commander...?

[ god. he doesn't even know if he can answer but he feels he has to offer. ]

[contentwithoutcommand]

[Questions. There are a hundred questions. But.]

I probably don't want to ask, do I? Anything I want to know, it's probably better I don't find it out this way.

[He sighed, shaking his head a little.] There's plenty I don't want to tell Faith, and that's only three years. Eight? I can't imagine.

[greenjacketed]

...Aye. I can respect that. [ and he'd try his hardest not to go back on such an assurance. ] Wait, now, how late in oh-five are we talking?