Cutthroats of the Coast

Chapter 17 - An Unexpected Meeting

“Well, Matthew, you are full of surprises.  I never thought that you could show so much nerve!  Garbett is not an easy man to best like that!  He’ll not like it, you know.”  Nathaniel was being most companionable as we climbed the steps from the cellars. 

If there was one thing I knew now, it was that Nathaniel was an oily serpent that I would be unwise to clutch to my breast.  There would be no succour from him should I require it.  He would sell me to the Pharisees for less than thirty pieces of silver.  Despite that, I resolved that it would be best that I keep our relationship on easy terms. 

“How on Earth did you become entangled with these fellows, Nathaniel? You have a fine position here.  Why endanger it in an enterprise as risky as this?” 

He paused and looked at me for a moment with a kind of deep melancholy.  Sighing, he spoke at last, “Matthew, you know my father was a colonel?” 

 I nodded. 

“He did well in the wars, secured a fine estate, a fine marriage and had sturdy children.  All my brothers and sisters survived our childhood and we have all made good livings.  This does not seem to be enough for my father.  He flies into rages, beats my mother and his servants, rants and raves about battles long past and has taken solace in the bottle.” 

I was shocked.  Colonel Broadbank had always seemed a very merry fellow and always been kind to me whenever I had visited.  Amiable and hospitable, I had often observed him about his gardens doting on some rose or other plant.  Beat a fellow?  Colonel Broadbank?  Surely not?  “Nathaniel,” I said, “I am most heartily sorry.  I did not know.” 

“He has drunk his living dry.  He has become mad for speculation with those money men of The City and his drinking has trapped him in rash decisions.  His money is gone and there is nothing left.”  Nathaniel looked at me with loathing.  “I despise a drunkard, Matthew, they leave so much more than empty bottles in their wake.” 

“Come on, gents, we must be moving!”  Jack insisted from behind us. 

“We must not tarry, Matthew, we must be away before Garbett is found.”  

“W-w-w-what’s the fucking hold up?”  Ramsbottom’s voice whined from the bottom of the steps.  “Are they a pack of women up there, n-n-nattering on like th-th-that?” 

Nathaniel lead the way and our small party exited the Treasury, returning to the cart in the courtyard.  Troopers remained on guard, seemingly unaware of the commotion that had occurred in the cellars.  It was not surprising, the cellars were deep and the door made of the sort of timbers usually found on a castle gate.  A sergeant strolled between the troopers, chatting quietly to each in turn.  When he saw us he made his way to Nathaniel and saluted. 

“Sergeant,” Nathaniel said. “We are to accompany Captain Blake and his men back to their ship.”  I was momentarily confused at the identity of Captain Blake but then remembered that Mr Ramsbottom was still nominally in charge, in his guise of the deceased sea officer. “They have a consignment of documents to return to the Lords Commissioners. These are important documents so Captain Garbett thought it best that you detail a guard.  It need not be many; the Captain leaves it to your discretion.” 

It seemed that the soldiers of Tangier were used to Nathaniel issuing instructions because the young man merely saluted again and strode off calling four men by name. It should not have surprised me; Nathaniel spoke with the Governor Cholmeley’s voice in all things in that eminent personage’s absence.  

“Oh, and Sergeant!”  Nathaniel called after the soldier. 

“Yes, sir?” 

“Mr Luke and the Captain are not to be disturbed until the count is complete.  Pray do not enter the Treasury unless it is absolutely necessary.”