Hornblower Fic: Cannon in D, Part I
Dec. 31st, 2009 07:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lady_branwynTitle: Cannon in D
Characters: Bush, Hornblower, OCs
Warning: None
Note: If only they were mine, but the boys belong to the Hornblower Estate.
*********************************
"Come in, Captain Bush. Please, sit down."
Bush thumped across the deck and settled himself in the chair. A courier ship had recently arrived with despatches, so this summons to the commodore's cabin was not unexpected.
Hornblower cleared his throat. After a strangely talkative comment about the weather, he asked Bush about the progress on the Nonsuch's provisioning. "What about the barrels of rotten salt fish?" he asked. "And the shortage of sail cloth?"
The questions went on and on, but happily, Bush could tell him that all was in order and at last they were ready to sail. As he spoke, Bush stared at the packet of despatches on the commodore's desk, resisting the urge to tap his wooden foot on the floor.
Finally, Hornblower said, “Captain Bush, the admiralty has offered the services of this ship to Count Razumovsky, the Russian ambassador to the Court of Vienna. This is a most delicate assignment. When we reach port, we will need to put ashore three guns and the crews to man them.”
“Yes, sir.” Bush didn't need to consult the ship's roster; he had been with this crew long enough that he knew which names he would want. For a shore engagement, he would need sailors who were level-headed and quick on their feet. Due to the diplomatic discretion required, he would take command of the party himself. “How many marines should we bring?" He had no idea what sort of resistance to expect.
"No, there's no reason to take them along."
"So Austrian troops will be supporting us." Bush nodded. It made perfect sense to avoid offending the local civilians. "Should the gun crews be issued pistols and cutlasses?”
“What? No, certainly not. Though they should wear their Sunday clothing.”
“Yes, sir,” Bush said evenly, trying not to look too surprised.
Hornblower stared at him appraisingly. “Captain Bush, do you know how to read musical notation?"
Bush stammered in surprise. “When I was a lad, I--I was given lessons on the pianoforte, sir. Though my playing was never good.” His eldest sister’s attempts to teach him music had failed miserably. His heavy fingers were far better suited to a sword hilt than a keyboard. He nervously wondered what connection there could be between a shore engagement and his doubtful musical ability. Hornblower was enjoying this far too much.
“If you can read music, that will do splendidly,” the commodore replied. “The goodwill of our allies will depend on it.”
Characters: Bush, Hornblower, OCs
Warning: None
Note: If only they were mine, but the boys belong to the Hornblower Estate.
*********************************
"Come in, Captain Bush. Please, sit down."
Bush thumped across the deck and settled himself in the chair. A courier ship had recently arrived with despatches, so this summons to the commodore's cabin was not unexpected.
Hornblower cleared his throat. After a strangely talkative comment about the weather, he asked Bush about the progress on the Nonsuch's provisioning. "What about the barrels of rotten salt fish?" he asked. "And the shortage of sail cloth?"
The questions went on and on, but happily, Bush could tell him that all was in order and at last they were ready to sail. As he spoke, Bush stared at the packet of despatches on the commodore's desk, resisting the urge to tap his wooden foot on the floor.
Finally, Hornblower said, “Captain Bush, the admiralty has offered the services of this ship to Count Razumovsky, the Russian ambassador to the Court of Vienna. This is a most delicate assignment. When we reach port, we will need to put ashore three guns and the crews to man them.”
“Yes, sir.” Bush didn't need to consult the ship's roster; he had been with this crew long enough that he knew which names he would want. For a shore engagement, he would need sailors who were level-headed and quick on their feet. Due to the diplomatic discretion required, he would take command of the party himself. “How many marines should we bring?" He had no idea what sort of resistance to expect.
"No, there's no reason to take them along."
"So Austrian troops will be supporting us." Bush nodded. It made perfect sense to avoid offending the local civilians. "Should the gun crews be issued pistols and cutlasses?”
“What? No, certainly not. Though they should wear their Sunday clothing.”
“Yes, sir,” Bush said evenly, trying not to look too surprised.
Hornblower stared at him appraisingly. “Captain Bush, do you know how to read musical notation?"
Bush stammered in surprise. “When I was a lad, I--I was given lessons on the pianoforte, sir. Though my playing was never good.” His eldest sister’s attempts to teach him music had failed miserably. His heavy fingers were far better suited to a sword hilt than a keyboard. He nervously wondered what connection there could be between a shore engagement and his doubtful musical ability. Hornblower was enjoying this far too much.
“If you can read music, that will do splendidly,” the commodore replied. “The goodwill of our allies will depend on it.”
