Chapter Text
I
Bush watched the young third Lieutenant Hornblower resume his continuous watch with some trepidation. It was damned unusual for a Captain to order two consecutive thirty-six hour watches … damned unusual. If Bush had been given to criticising his betters, he might almost have said it was unwise.
This was a ship of war, headed into hostile territory. Hornblower, along with the other officers, himself included, would be essential to the smooth running of the ship when she cleared for action. Having the young man dead on his feet during battle boded ill for the men under his command.
Watching Hornblower take a turn about the quaterdeck, Bush had to admit he was taking it well enough. Though their first meeting had been less than complimentary – Bush having been thrown to the ground by the younger man rather than have his head knocked in by a careless tackle – Bush had come to like Hornblower. There was something about him that inspired confidence.
Bush fidgeted with his glass, his calloused thumb worrying the battered leather sleeve as his mind struggled to reconcile the needs of war with his Captain’s orders. He was a simple man, steeped in the ways of the Navy. It was not in his nature to deliberate orders. Thus it was with some discomfort that he found himself doing just that.
Hornblower had taken up his station, hands clasped in the small of his back, his head held high with every appearance of attention. It would take a seaman of Bush’s experience to notice the weary sway apparent in his posture, or the slight shake of his hands where they sat on the wool of his coat.
It seemed wasteful to subject an officer to such punishment in the face of so ambivalent a crime. To his mind, Hornblower had done well to avoid tearing the tops’l when the reef snagged. In all his years in His Majesty’s Navy, he had never seen a man punished for preserving a sail.
So it was that he eyed Hornblower uneasily for the remainder of his own watch. The young man acquitted himself well enough considering how many days it had been since his head graced a pillow.
As he made his way below decks at the change of the watch, he paused. The younger man looked up enquiringly, his face a mask of polite deference. Bush opened his mouth but the platitudes caught in his throat. There was nothing he could say to console the man without appearing to criticise the Captain. In the end, Bush settled for a nod and a gruff farewell, leaving Hornblower looking after him somewhat perplexed.