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PART II
APRIL, 1780
TAVENDISH GRANGE
NORTHUMBERLAND, ENGLAND
IT TOOK ELLIOTT five hours longer to get home than it should have, thanks to a sudden gale. He had set Old Ben ashore in Gravesend with a five share of gold and a letter of introduction to Niall and Sandy, who resided year-round in the family’s London townhome. Elliott was not as efficient at reading the weather or navigating as Old Ben (or Fury) and thus, made several rather inconsequential missteps that frustrated him more than he already was.
Accompanying Old Ben, Elliott had dropped a handful of other seamen ashore, officers beyond their prime, who were happier to settle down as Elliott’s well-compensated retainers than seek another fortune at sea under someone else’s command. Neither Niall nor Sandy would likely notice the increase in household staff, which was just as well.
Now, thirty-six hours later, he was approaching Berwick-upon-Tweed, and just beyond that, the bay where he could moor his cutter, Penance, unmolested by both smugglers (for he was the only smuggler for one hundred miles in any direction) and the Navy (which thought he kept the coast clear of smugglers as penance for his unpunished crimes against the Crown).
He breathed a sigh of relief when the anchor was dropped and the dinghies lowered.
It took them another hour to secure the ship within clear sight of the manor, row into the well-hidden caves, stow the dinghies, and find their way through the maze of water-hewn tunnels before the tide rolled in. He looked around to see the tops of the sunken barrels in which the gold was hidden.
In Rotterdam, after he had paid and dismissed that portion of his crew who did not know his identity, Fury, the Hollander, and their crews had helped him and what remained of his crew to offload the gold, repack it in barrels of tobacco (which would be rendered worthless in these caves), then load it onto the Penance, the Mad Hangman, and the Thunderstorm.
Captain Bull, commanding his own ship renamed Black Demon, set sail to deposit George’s parents somewhere along the coast of England, and would then make his way back to America to continue the trade Fury had taught him.
Lieutenant Yeardley, at the helm of the Mad Hangman, and Lieutenant Smith sailing the Thunderstorm, had helped Elliott transport the barrels from Holland to Northumberland whilst the Hollander took Fury, her mother, and George to London for reasons Fury would not disclose and Elliott could not fathom.
He could never repay them for their service to him, which they had done for no reason he could name, as they did not seem to be as avaricious as pirates should. Fury had refused her share, though her crew hadn’t. Nor had the Hollander or Bull. If the Thunderstorm and Mad Hangman hadn’t accompanied him and seen the gold through to its penultimate destination, it would have been far more difficult for him to put down the mutiny he had expected.
It had happened not quite one week after Fury had summoned the wind and they had set sail, Fury close to larboard and the Hollander close to starboard. Tensions had been mounting. Elliott could feel it in his bones and had signaled both ships and his officers to be ready. Even though he knew they were making battle preparations, he had not been able to discern it.
The dozen leaders, a mix of soldiers and sailors, had drawn their swords and charged the quarterdeck, dozens more men following—
Only to be killed by shots coming from the ships on either side of the Silver Shilling.
Gunports slammed open and cannon popped out. Gunners flocked to the swivels. Archers displayed tar-tipped arrows and the braziers prepared to light them.
“AVAST, MUTINEERS!” Fury bellowed from the platform of her main mast.
The dozens of men stopped cold and looked around. Elliott’s loyal crew had some of them at swordpoint, but there were more than Elliott had anticipated and the rest of his crew had not come abovedecks. That could only mean there were more below.
“One more step,” she roared, “and we will sink your little boat the way we did the British fleet.”
One of the mutineers ordered the Silver Shilling’s gunports opened, but … silence.
“They’re bolted shut, gentlemen,” Elliott said calmly. “You just sold your lives for a measly extra share, which I would have given you as a bonus anyway, had you not been so greedy.”
“And stupid,” the Hollander called, his Dutch accent heavy with disdain.
A soft whiff and thud pierced the relative silence. A soldier looked down at his chest where an arrow stuck out from his heart, then he toppled over. A flurry of steel-tipped arrows sent the rest of the mutineers scrambling and crying for mercy.
“Get the rest of them up here,” Elliott snarled.
Fury merely stood high above, arms crossed over her chest, and watched as man after man was brought forward and shackled to the previous one.
Elliott clipped down the stairs to the main deck and, furious, had picked up the chainshot at the first captive’s feet and held it out to him. “Hold that.”
The second he took it, Elliott picked the man up and heaved him over the rail.
The clang of chain and ball as it scraped against the rail as the screaming men went overboard one after another, faster and faster until the last mutineer went over the side with a great splash.
“Methinks you’ll not try that again, children,” Fury called gaily down upon the decks of the Silver Shilling. She and the Hollander and their crews roared with laughter as if ’twere a great jest, and Elliott found himself envious of their cohesion.
Elliott shook his head free of the memory.
Yet more people to whom he owed his life … one of them a woman whose heart he had broken.
He felt indebted to the world, and knew Fate would require him to repay his debt to her in the currency of duty.
It was this thought that dogged his heels through the labyrinth, up the ancient hewn stone steps, and out the trap door that opened upon the heather-strewn moor high above the sea just as dawn broke.
“UNCLE ELLIOTT! YOU’RE HOME!”
He had barely gained his feet when six children surrounded him, screaming, jumping, begging for his attention. Somehow his arms filled with one little girl and one little boy.
Their father, striding up behind them, rolled his eyes and shook his head, but soon enough he had broken through the clamor and clasped Elliott to him. “Welcome home, Brother.”
He held on tight to this man he loved, his eyes stinging so badly he closed them, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Almost a sob, really.
Finally he opened his eyes and over his brother-in-law’s shoulder, he saw all three of his sisters and his older nieces and nephews running helter-skelter with a dozen pug dogs at their heels. His tiny mother drove a tiny gig hitched to a tiny pony, a wide smile on her face, her cheeks glistening with moisture.
His soul was suddenly overcome with a tidal wave of love for these people, his family.
These were the people for whom he had sacrificed his own desires—and he would do it again.
“THE EARL HAS RETURNED! MY LORD! LORD TAVENDISH!”
Ah, no. Not all the people.
Soon enough hordes of villagers, tenants, and boarders were surrounding him as much as his nieces, nephews, sisters, brother-in-law, mother, and those damned dogs yipping and nipping at everyone’s heels in ignorant happiness.
“Oh, my son,” his mother whispered in his ear when he leaned down to embrace her. “My wonderful, courageous son. I have missed you every day you have been gone these past twenty years. Welcome home.”
“And I, you, Mother,” he whispered in return. “Thank you.”
For he was home. Home to stay. Finally.
It was the culmination of every one of his achievable goals, and he had succeeded beyond his wildest expectations.
He smiled, but the memory of tears filling burnt-sugar eyes made success lie bitter upon his soul.
If you don’t want to wait 2 years to get to the end, you can buy it here.
Ah, so the younger brother (and his spawn) to succeed him as Earl.
Yes, the heir presumptive. Niall is NOT HAPPY when Elliott informs him of Elliott’s impending death.
Understandable, one because being third in line of succession meant he never took the duty expectations as seriously. And two he will be helping to perpetrate a fraud – not something the crown would likely look on with any humour.
This reminds me of the Heir & a Spare ‘plan’ to successions. Add a third? Especially when the others live? Uh. Ya. Set ’em up as a diplomat or expect him to be a wayward scoundrel.
He never thought they’d expect *RESULTS!*
As Elliott’s father told him, “First son to heir, second to the military, third to the church.”
Elliott wanted to be the land steward, but his father wouldn’t have it, so he went to sea as he was told.
In this case, Niall went into law, which is as acceptable as the church.
Oh, but the guy in this scene is his brother-in-law. Niall is the one in London who argued Elliott’s case and got him acquitted. Sandy is Elliott’s nephew, the son of the dude in this scene, and he lives and works in London with Niall. He’s the solicitor, and Niall is the barrister.
And I just NOW realized the “bar” part of “barrister.” 🤦♀️
It’s because of the function of alcohol in the practice of law.
😜
Where the zoomers at?
Far too late, sadly. Gotta wake up in six hours.
Boston.
That show was a hate crime.
No one knows the link anymore?
Been being “weather aware” for the last couple of hours, but the worst of the severe weather appears to be past us. Hope all our Glibs are safe out there!
We had thunderstorms this morning. Now it’s just muggy AF so I turned on the AC for the first time this summer.
We had a day with mid 80s temps, swirling into an evening thunderstorm with hail, here in central Indiana.
God, it was hot today. And then, awfully odd to see/ hear hail dinging and resting on the patio.
We escaped the hail, which is fortunate for our poor ungaraged Subarus.
Drenched. The moment Tres Ver 2.0’s graduation ended, and everyone headed to the parking lot…..the skies unloaded.
I got up once to go to the baf-room, and saw the lightning. But I wasnt allowed to leave.
Of course I got there at the last minute (drove straight from work in Toledo) so had to park in the back 40 near Edwin C.
It was a nice brisk walk in a downpour that left me sopping wet by the time I found the Tracker Testarossa™.
This was CTC’s at the Arena?
The rain seems to have helped with the wildfire not 20 miles north of me (despite the wind changing to south).
It’s been eye-opening. I look at all the standing dead trees surrounding my homestead and want to take them all down.
😟🤞
My Stihl 038 needs just fuel, oxygen, and spark. Yet she doesn’t want to do her thing.
Everyone in California thinks you have a good idea.
50s next week. I can’t wait.
Have I mentioned I hate hot and humid?
I love your use of chainshot. Wildly effective mast destroyers ..and they’re such pure, idiotic simplicity. But if it works it ain’t stupid. And damn, they did. Aim low and sever humans, instead! (Piracy’s fun! .. when you’re watching.)
Thanks for these, Mo.
When I’m figthing off the horde of seconders here in the Glibertariat, I feel like Gandalf in The Fellowship Of The Ring fighting that Balrog.
Youtube seems to go on an anti-ad blocker crusade once every few months. I get some popups that I’m going to be blocked from watching videos unless I turn it off. Today, they actually managed to cut me off for a few hours and then it was back to normal.
I like AdGuard – minimal issues, none at all on Youtube.
OTOH it ain’t free. But you get what you pay for/
I have almost no issues with U-block outside the routine threats from Youtube that go nowhere.
Yeah, I used to have good results with uBlock Origin. Until I didn’t anymore.
To join the conversation # of jobs held, and to the ‘Are Derp + Ev the oddest duo?’ bit:
I’ll use post 18yo; maybe eight job ‘paths,’ and completely exclusive of the number of schools, etc I worked at. Biggest? Taught ESL in Asia for 12 yrs; managed a newspaper for 9mo; phlebotomist for 6mo.
~Ish in order, post high school? Dorm cafeteria; Jimmy Johns delivery driver; interned at the Exotic Feline Rescue Sanctuary, studying lions and tigers; grocery store (then *and* now); ESL teacher in S Korea, Singapore and Thailand; SEO writer and editor; managing editor of the Peru Tribune; phlebotomist at two plasma centers; glorified babysitter in Carmel-Clay County after-(public) school ‘edu,’ and I suppose I’ve been paid with (cheap) hotel rooms and free drinks touring in SoKo as a drummer in several bands.
I started at McDs when I was 14. Derp and I would make a great comedic pairing, personality-wise. Kinda Adam v Jamie on Mythbusters.
I hope the Sat’day morn keeps ‘way teh rabble for a chill start. (It’s Noblesville, IN. There ain’t no ‘rabble.’ There was a homeless dude who’d walk ‘round for a few hours in the morn, but haven’t seen him in ~six weeks. Hope he’s well.)
I had a bum sitting on a bench outside my window, four floors down, speaking perfectly lucid English one morning last summer – only none of it made any sense. Lots of jabber about Syracuse – maybe he knew UCS.
That reminds me of a motion hearing I did years ago. My client claimed her mother was severely demented. Her brother said mother was fine and she didn’t want to see my client anymore for reasons. To my amazement, opposing counsel out mother on the stand. She could barely respond to what he asked. Joe Biden looks like a wordsmith next to her.
I then cross-examined mom. It was a steady stream of word salad. She answered some questions at length. It was a stream of words with no connection to one another. The judge asked me to stop after about 15 minutes.
The Derp and Evan Show
I kinda like it.
I think they (Evan and Derp) are both searching for something to make them whole. They find that they complete each other. They take a road trip together. With snacks and supplies.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=11GYvfYjyV0
Which one is the bottom?
Everyone’s a bottom to our tax overlords.
/still I wish both Evan and Derp find what they are looking for
//real firsts like telling the tax collector to fuck off.
Can two glibs share an apartment without driving each other crazy?
Ha! I loved that show.
Word of the day: poo-phoria.
Has SugerFree ever used that word? If he has, and I missed it, I will be very disappointed in myself. I’m almost sure it wouldn’t fit in a romance novel.
Ugh, i just saw news that the guy i watched die yesterday in a brutal car crash was actually a woman pregnant with twins. Is it too late to open another bottle of wine?
Ugh.
No, not too late ( you needn’t finish it tonight)
Oof.
Ugh indeed. It’s definitely not too late.
In person?!
🍷 🍷
I have all the wine in the world 🎶
Another good installment Moj. I did appreciate the way the mutineers were dealt with. I have let go an anchor enough times to have a good picture in my mind’s eye of what was happening.
Thanks, dbleagle!
Everyone is late.
I was early. I gave up on waiting for you layabouts all sleeping in. Instead I did something semi-productive. I sharpened and tuned 4 planer blades. I need a hand router but I am scared to look at the tool sites until I win the lottery.
GM. Bit of a throwback cover…
Avast, ye landlubbers!
🏴☠️🦜⚓️
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=asOvnGHwtDU
🎶🎶
Good morning, Sean, Teh Hype, Suthen, TO’G, and Ted’S., and good afternoon, Fishy!
Mornin, Red! ☕️ 🍩
🥯☕️
Today marks my seasonal transition from hot chai latte to iced mocha latte. And later today, I hope to FINALLY set up Tranquility Base on the back patio!
https://www.nj.com/monmouth/2025/05/sinkhole-closes-portion-of-garden-state-parkway-in-2-nj-counties.html
Jon Bon Jovi service area? Really? 🙄
My first encounter with Bon Jovi.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s86K-p089R8
The entire state isn’t a sinkhole?
https://www.nj.com/hunterdon/2025/05/pilot-dies-after-small-plane-crashes-in-nj-fire-officials-say.html
I’ve spent much time at that airport.
If Trump paid ATC properly this wouldn’t have happened.
suh’ fam
whats goody yo
TALL WEEKEND CANS!
/visit the alpaca farm