The Apprentice Chapter One POTC Fic
Title: The Apprentice Chapter One
Type: Fictional Person Fic
Author: Piratelf
Rating: G
Cast: Will Turner, Mr. Brown the blacksmith, Mrs. Brown, Lieutenant James Norrington, Governor Swann, Elizabeth Swann.
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of POTC:COTBP belong to Disney, Ted Elliot and Terry Rossio, various other writers the actors and the director. No profit will be made from this work.
Beta: CaptainoGondor
Timeline: Pre-POTC:COTBP
Summary: How did Will get from the waterlogged orphan to the master swordmaker?
Author's Note: I envision young Will to look like young Orlando, rather than the actor who played him, so you may see some descriptive descrepancies.
This is UNFINISHED.
Will woke up and looked around. He was in a bed, in a room full of beds. There were two men at the other end of the room. One had bloody bandages on his arm. The other seemed to be sleeping. He sat up and realized the room wasn’t rocking, he was on dry land. When had the Queen Maeve landed? Panicked, he felt his chest; the familiar weight was gone! His father’s gift! It was gone! He looked around, tore the covers off of the bed and threw the pillow to the floor. But it wasn’t there. It was gone. He sat on the floor in despair and started to cry. He had nothing of his father’s now. How could he prove his identity when he found him? His mother had told him, before she died, to sell everything they had to book passage on a ship, but no matter what, he should never let go of that gold coin.
A nurse bustled in and knelt down on the floor, gathering him in his arms. “Shhh, shhh, s’all right angel. It’s all right. You’re safe now.” She put him back on the bed and replaced the pillow, tucked the covers around him. “It’s a miracle, but you were saved from the shipwreck. Lieutenant Norrington found you more than a week ago and brought you here yesterday.”
“Shipwreck?” Will asked.
“Why yes, don’t you remember the shipwreck, love?” She smoothed his hair off of his forehead. “Well, never mind. It’s all over now. Can you tell me where you were bound for?”
“The West Indies,” Will said.
“Well you’ve gotten close enough. You’re in Port Royal. Is someone waiting for you there?”
“N-no. I’m looking for my father. His letter came from there.”
“I see, so you’re not a sailor, a cabin boy?”
“No. Have you ever heard of my father? His name is Bill Turner, William Turner, he’s a merchant seaman.”
“No, can’t say as I have. Where is your mother, duckie?”
“She’s. . . “ more tears fell down Will’s cheeks. “She’s dead.”
“Oh, I see.” The nurse hugged Will close and rocked him a bit. “I’m sorry, love. Poor motherless boy. Well, why have you come here? Why didn’t you wait at home for your father?”
“He doesn’t come home. He only sends letters. But he hasn’t sent one for a long time. And if I stayed, I’d have to go to the workhouse.”
The nurse kissed the top of the brown curly head. “Well, there’s no workhouse here. We’ll soon get you sorted. Now, why don’t you lie down, nice and comfy, and I’ll bring you a nice cup of tea and some bread. Are you hungry?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Will answered, finally remembering his manners.
“Fine. I’ll be right back,” She went down to the other end of the room and checked on the two men before going back into the kitchen. As she passed him the second time she called out, ”What is your name, angel?”
“Will Turner, ma’am.”
“I’ll see if I can’t find some jam for your bread, Will.” She smiled at him as she disappeared through the doorway.
Later that afternoon Will was awakened by the loud but brisk footsteps of booted feet. He opened his eyes to see the impressive figure of a brightly uniformed Naval Lieutenant and an extremely well dressed gentleman.
“Good afternoon. I am Lieutenant Norrington, do you remember me?”
“Yes, sir.” Will answered, sitting as straight as he could.
“And Governor Swann,” the officer indicated the kindly looking man next to him.
“Yes, sir.” Will bowed his head to the governor. “Your Grace.”
“Good. I trust you’re feeling well?” the Governor asked him.
“Yes, sir.”
Norrington nodded, pleased. “We’re here to inform you that, having no family present, and no visible means of support, you are now a ward of the Royal Government of Port Royal. You will remain here, in the infirmary, until a place can be found for you. Is that clear?”
Will bit his lip. “Yes, sir.” He wondered if he was going to be put in prison, but he dared not ask.
The Governor smiled. This was going well. “Now, have you any skills?”
Will, bit his thumbnail, unconsciously. “I can read, sir, and count. And I can make porridge.”
“Hmm,” The officer shared a displeased look with the governor.
“I’m a fast learner. I’m very strong.” Will added, hoping to please the men.
“How old are you, Mr. Turner?” the Lieutenant asked.
“Eleven, sir.”
Norrington sighed. “Very Good. Carry on.”
Will bowed his head again as both men exited. He was suddenly very nervous about his future.
Elizabeth Swann got up from the table when her father and James Norrington entered the kitchen. It wasn’t proper for young ladies to go among sailors, even sick ones, but she insisted upon at least coming to the infirmary. She’d been having a nice chat with the nurse, anyway. “Is he all right?”
“Yes, yes, he seems quite healthy.” The governor said, as he sat at the table.
The nurse brought tea for the men.
“Too young for the navy, I suppose?” The governor looked at Norrington.
James Norrington didn’t intend to have anyone under 15 in his barracks or on one of his ships. It could create . . . difficulties . . . with the men. He was only glad that the governor asked him to come and evaluate the boy, rather than the commodore. “Far too young.”
“Well, I suppose I’ll advertise an apprentice for hire and see who comes ‘round.”
“For hire?! Father!” Elizabeth exclaimed, outraged. “He’s no older than I!”
“Things among the lower classes are quite different, Miss Swann.” Norrington explained to her.
Elizabeth ignored him. “But Father, I thought he was your ward, why doesn’t he come and live with us? We have plenty of room!”
Both men chuckled condescendingly. “Elizabeth, that’s out of the question.”
“Why?” She demanded.
Norrington looked thoughtful. “Perhaps as a footman.”
“I have all the footmen I need,” the Governor assured him. “If no one needs an apprentice, I have no doubt that he can get work at the docks, or on a merchant ship. “
Norrington found himself feeling strangely protective of the boy, and wasn’t pleased by either of those options. But one step at a time, it wouldn’t do to argue with the Governor over a possibility. Certainly someone would need an apprentice. He finished his tea and stood. “I really must return to my duties, sir. “
“Of course,” The Governor nodded. “We should be going as well. Come, Elizabeth.”
“Couldn’t I just say hello?” she asked. “Please, Father, he’s all alone, he has no friends here.”
The governor frowned, but ultimately gave in to his daughter’s request. “Oh, very well. You may have a short visit.” He looked to the nurse, “More tea, if you please?”
*******
Elizabeth walked quietly up to the boy’s bed. “Hello, Will.”
He looked up and smiled. “Hello, Elizabeth. I mean, Miss Swann.”
“You may call me Elizabeth, “ She sat on the side of his bed. “I’ve missed you. How do you feel?”
“Better, my head doesn’t hurt as much. Thank you for keeping me company on the boat.”
“You’re welcome. I hope when you’re well you can come to visit, and we could play games on the lawn.”
“I’d like that. Thank you for inviting me.” Will wasn’t sure what ‘the lawn’ was, but it sounded fun.
Elizabeth opened her mouth to say something more, but her father called her before she could.
“Elizabeth, we must be going now.”
She sighed. “Well, goodbye, Will.”
“Goodbye, Miss Swann.” Will said, mindful of her father’s gaze.
*******
The nurse let them out, then looked back on her charges. She would hate for that poor boy to go to work on the docks, or worse -
“……To be taken off on some ship, to God knows what fate.” She fished in her purse for the proper coin. “Thank you, Mr. Brown,” she said taking the new gate hinge.
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Kelly. Uh, this boy, he’s recovered full health, you say?”
“Oh yes, he’s a strong little chap.”
“About this high?” Brown asked, leveling his hand at mid chest.
“Oh a bit taller, I’d say.”
“Really?” He smiled. “Well, if you have any problems with that hinge you just let me know.”
“Thank you, Mr. Brown.”
He saw her out, then locked the door and went through the back of the forge to his house for supper. He had something to discuss with his wife.
*******
The butler answered the bell and admitted Joseph Brown.
“May I state your business sir?”
“It’s about the boy. From the shipwreck? I’ll take him on, if he’s still available.”
“I’ll inform the governor you’re here, sir.”
The blacksmith pulled at his collar, feeling uncomfortable in the elegant surroundings. Luckily it was only a few minutes’ wait.
“Mr. Brown, the governor will see you now.”
He followed the butler to a nicely appointed office.
“Come in, Mr. Brown, come in,” The governor called, “I understand you’d like to have the boy as your apprentice?”
“Yes, sir, if you please.”
“That’s fine!” The Governor smiled, clapping his hands. “Please have a seat. I’ll just write out a contract here for you to sign,” he opened an inkwell and took up a quill, “or put your mark to. . . “
“I can sign, sir.” Mr. Brown said, trying to sit on the silk damask chair without putting any weight on it.
“Very good, very good.” The Governor continued to scratch away at the parchment. “Now then, this certifies that the boy, William Turner, is indentured to you, Mr. Joseph Brown, for seven years or until such time as he is eighteen years of age. You agree to give him adequate food, shelter and clothing, and to train him in your trade, which is blacksmithing, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Mmmm-hmmm,” Governor Swann finished writing out the document and signed it. He made an X and turned the paper on his desk. “And if you will sign there, Mr. Brown.”
The blacksmith dried his palms on his pants and took the quill, slowly writing out his name.
“Perfect.” The governor took the contract back, dripped wax on it and affixed his seal. “There we are! Now you simply need to take this to the naval infirmary and collect your boy. I’ll send a message to Lieutenant Norrington to expect you. This is working out well for everyone.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“Careful, the ink is still a bit wet.” Swann held out the contract.
Joe Brown took the document and was soon standing on the governor’s doorstep, a bit overwhelmed. He’d been expecting more of an interview and to meet the boy first. But, perhaps it was better this way.
He walked home first, to tell his wife he’d be bringing the boy home for supper.
When the messenger reached Norrington, he immediately dispatched him to the infirmary.
“’e says get de boy dressed, Rosie.”
“Dressed?” The nurse came out of the small kitchen, wiping her hands. “Whatever for?”
“’e’s been sold.”
“SOLD?!”
“Well, ‘pprenticed, den. Same as.”
“To who?”
“Brown. ‘E’s gonna be a blacksmif.”
“Blacksmith?” Rosie Kelly sighed. “Poor little mite. He thinks it’s hot here already.” The messenger laughed, and was given an angry glare. “All right, you’ve given the message. Be off with you!”
He turned and left, still chuckling, as the nurse gathered up the child’s clothing and carried the bundle into the ward.
“Well, Will, how are you feeling today?”
“Very well, ma’am. Can I get out of bed now?”
“Oh yes, you certainly can. We need to get you dressed up and looking presentable. You’ll be going to your new home soon.”
“My new home?” Will asked apprehensively.
“Oh, yes,” She pulled the too-big nightshirt over his head. “You’ve been apprenticed. Your new master and mistress will be here in two shakes. Here now, let’s wash your face. You want to look bright and shiny. “ She briefly rubbed a damp cloth over Will’s freckled cheeks.
“But I want to find my father! I’m not an orphan!” Will protested.
“I know, love, but you haven’t anyone here right now, and you don’t know where your father is. So the best thing for you is stay right here in Port Royal. Every ship passes through here sooner or later.” She pulled his shirt down and helped him step into his breeches. “So as long as you’re here you need to make a living, don’t you? And Mr. Brown has agreed to give you room and board, AND train you in a trade! Now, how could you ask for more?” She sat him on the bed and knelt down to help him into his shoes. The salt water hadn’t done them a bit of good, they were stiff and curled.
“What - what does Mr. Brown do?” Will winced as he helped her wedge his foot into a shoe.
“’My master’, ducks, you should call him ‘my master.’” She went to work on the other shoe.
“What - ouch!” He pulled his foot back.
“I know, angel,” She said sympathetically. “But this is all you have for now. Try pointing your toes *grunt* There we go!”
“What does my master do?” Will asked, trying to find a comfortable way to hold his foot in the painful shoes. He wished the sailors had never fished them out of the water.
Rosie tied his shirt closed at the neck. “Oh he’s a very good man. Church every Sunday, never cheats a customer.” She gave his brown vest a shake and pulled an arm through. “And Mrs. Brown, your mistress, she’s a VERY good cook. Wait ‘til you taste one of her pies. You’ll be the first child to grace that house, poor things. Stand up straight for me now.” She looked him over, making small adjustments. “Who’s a lovely boy then, hmmm? Now just let take a comb to you, see if I can’t get these curls in order.”
Will braced for the inevitable pain of pulled hair, but she was quite gentle.
She stood back and smiled at him. “Perfect. You look to be a fine little gentleman standing there! I’m sure they’ll be pleased with you.”
Will frowned, “What if they aren’t?”
She thought she heard voices coming close to the doors. She took Will’s face in her hands and looked him in the eye, speaking to him softly, but seriously. “Now you just be a good boy and make very sure they are, William Turner. You don’t know how lucky you are to be apprenticed. Terrible terrible things happen to sweet boys like you who go to work on the docks, or worse yet, are taken on board a ship of rough men who haven’t seen a wo- “ She looked up as the doors opened. She gave Will a quick kiss on the forehead. “Best manners!”
“Mrs. Kelly,” Lieutenant Norrington called.
“Here, sir!” She answered.
“Is the boy ready?” The officer came down the aisle between the beds, his head down, reading the contract. Joe and Maggie Brown followed behind.
“Ready and waiting, sir,” Rosie smiled. She pressed Maggie’s hand as the woman passed her. “I’m sure you’ll be very pleased.”
Maggie smiled. “It will be something, having a boy in the house.”
Norrington stopped at the foot of the bed where Will was standing, hands behind his back, trying not to fidget. “William Turner, this is Mr. Joseph Brown, your master. You are indentured to him for a period of seven years, during which he will train you as his apprentice.”
Will swallowed and bowed to Mr. Brown. He didn’t know if he should say something. He hoped not, as he didn’t know what to say.
“And your mistress,” Norrington continued. “Mrs. Brown.”
Will bowed to her as well.
Maggie smiled. “We’re happy to meet you, Will.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” Will answered.
“Come along now, Turner.” Norrington led the way back out the doors, at his customary brisk pace. Will barely had time to wave at his nurse.
Once outside Norrington handed the contract back to Joe. “Here you are, Mr. Brown. Best of luck to you.”
“Thank you, sir.” Joe answered him.
James turned to the boy. “This is an excellent opportunity, Mr. Turner, see that you make the best of it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I shall look in from time to time to note your progress. I don’t wish to be disappointed.”
“No, sir.” Will answered solemnly.
“Very Good.” the Lieutenant turned to Mrs. Brown and inclined his head, “Madame.” he said, and he took his leave.
Left alone in the street, Joe took Will’s shoulders and gave him a good looking over. “Hmmm, seems like we’ll have to put some meat on these bones, Maggie. Stiff wind would blow him away.”
“I’m sure we can see to that,” She grinned. “Let’s go home and get you a bit of luncheon, shall we, Will?”
“Yes, please, Mistress.” Will said, almost smiling himself.
They turned and began walking in the direction of the forge as Will hobbled behind. Joe looked back at him a few times. Finally he asked, “Are you lame, boy?”
“No Master!” Will assured him. “It’s only that my shoes have shrunk. I’m sorry.”
“Ah,” Joe looked down at the boys shoes. “Hmmm, well, we can’t have you unsteady on your feet.” He looked over at Maggie. “I think we’d better pay a visit to the cobbler before luncheon.”
“All right then, suppose I go home and everything will be ready when the two of you return?”
“Aye, that sounds fine.” Joe pressed her hand and they smiled at each other.
Will bowed his head to her, “Mistress.” Then followed his master as quickly as he could.
When Will took his shoes off to let the cobbler trace his feet, Joe saw that the salt dried leather was rubbing the small feet raw.
“I think you’d be just as well off without those as with them, boy.”
“Yes, Master,” Will agreed.
“You needn’t wear them home then.”
“Thank you, Master!” Will answered with relief.
Joe smiled at him then turned to the cobbler. “How long will those be, then, Connolly?”
“Oh, more ‘n a month. I have a few orders in front of yours.” The cobbler gestured to a stack of foot traces.
Joe frowned. “But I can’t have this boy barefoot in the forge.”
Will glanced up at him, no one had said anything about a forge.
“Oh, he’s to be your bellows boy, is he?”
“He’s my apprentice, Turner. Boy, this is Mr. Connolly.”
Will bowed. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”
“And you as well, “ the cobbler answered, smiling at the child’s manners. In this military outpost, most civilians were treated a bit like second class citizens. It’d been a long time since anyone had bowed to Clive Connolly. “Hmm, well, I suppose it is somewhat urgent, and they are a small pair. “ The cobbler scratched his chin. “I guess I could sew them up in about two days, without it delaying the others too much.”
“Thank you, Connolly.” Joe Brown said gratefully.
“Thank you, Mr. Connolly,” Will echoed.
“Two days, then.” Clive nodded, giving Will’s head a pat.
Will followed Joe back out into the street, the stones in the dirt were hot on his feet, but it felt better than the shoes. They walked down an alley then turned onto another street. Will could see the huge statue of a blacksmith from there. He looked up and noticed the sign; tongs, a hammer and an anvil over the name J. Brown. His master opened the door and walked through.
Will first saw a grey donkey who lifted her head, as if to nod to him.
“This is Belle, the lady who runs the shop,” Brown said, going over to pat the donkey’s back. “We keep her happy and we stay in business. Belle, dear, this is Will. He’ll be taking care of you from now on.”
Will petted the donkey’s neck. “Hello, Belle.”
“You’ll pump fresh water for her every morning and feed her breakfast. At nights you’ll rub her down, check her hooves and feed her her dinner. Weekly, you’ll muck out her track here and spread new straw.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good lad, now come here and I’ll show you how to build a good fire in the forge.” Brown led him to the forge and stood him on an upturned bucket so he could reach to clean out remains of the last fire. He showed him what was coke and what was coal and where it was placed, how and where to dump the ash gate, then how to put the kindling in the firepot and the delicate use of the bellows to get it going. As the fire began to roar, it developed a ‘heart’, a center of loose coke in the middle where the heating of the iron is done.
The heat was intense and Will was constantly wiping sweat out of his eyes. “May I get a drink, Master?”
“The barrel is over there,” Brown indicated with a jerk of his head, as his hands were busy with poker and rake. “You’ll fill that every morning as well.”
Will nodded and he took large gulps.
“Ah, take it slow now. You’ll adjust to the heat soon enough. “
Will wasn’t so certain of that, but he dared not say so. Just then Mrs. Brown came out to the smithy.
“Goodness, isn’t anyone hungry?” She asked.
If Will’s mouth hadn’t been full of water he would have burst out “I am!”
“Just showing the boy his responsibilities, but I would imagine we could both do with a good meal just now.” Brown smiled at his wife.
“Yes, Mistress, “ Will agreed.
She smiled at him. “I hope you like a nice fried fish?”
“Oh yes, Mistress!” Will nodded.
“Good! Joe will show you where to wash up, then come straight to the table.” She patted his head then went back into the house to set the table.
tbc
Type: Fictional Person Fic
Author: Piratelf
Rating: G
Cast: Will Turner, Mr. Brown the blacksmith, Mrs. Brown, Lieutenant James Norrington, Governor Swann, Elizabeth Swann.
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of POTC:COTBP belong to Disney, Ted Elliot and Terry Rossio, various other writers the actors and the director. No profit will be made from this work.
Beta: CaptainoGondor
Timeline: Pre-POTC:COTBP
Summary: How did Will get from the waterlogged orphan to the master swordmaker?
Author's Note: I envision young Will to look like young Orlando, rather than the actor who played him, so you may see some descriptive descrepancies.
This is UNFINISHED.
Will woke up and looked around. He was in a bed, in a room full of beds. There were two men at the other end of the room. One had bloody bandages on his arm. The other seemed to be sleeping. He sat up and realized the room wasn’t rocking, he was on dry land. When had the Queen Maeve landed? Panicked, he felt his chest; the familiar weight was gone! His father’s gift! It was gone! He looked around, tore the covers off of the bed and threw the pillow to the floor. But it wasn’t there. It was gone. He sat on the floor in despair and started to cry. He had nothing of his father’s now. How could he prove his identity when he found him? His mother had told him, before she died, to sell everything they had to book passage on a ship, but no matter what, he should never let go of that gold coin.
A nurse bustled in and knelt down on the floor, gathering him in his arms. “Shhh, shhh, s’all right angel. It’s all right. You’re safe now.” She put him back on the bed and replaced the pillow, tucked the covers around him. “It’s a miracle, but you were saved from the shipwreck. Lieutenant Norrington found you more than a week ago and brought you here yesterday.”
“Shipwreck?” Will asked.
“Why yes, don’t you remember the shipwreck, love?” She smoothed his hair off of his forehead. “Well, never mind. It’s all over now. Can you tell me where you were bound for?”
“The West Indies,” Will said.
“Well you’ve gotten close enough. You’re in Port Royal. Is someone waiting for you there?”
“N-no. I’m looking for my father. His letter came from there.”
“I see, so you’re not a sailor, a cabin boy?”
“No. Have you ever heard of my father? His name is Bill Turner, William Turner, he’s a merchant seaman.”
“No, can’t say as I have. Where is your mother, duckie?”
“She’s. . . “ more tears fell down Will’s cheeks. “She’s dead.”
“Oh, I see.” The nurse hugged Will close and rocked him a bit. “I’m sorry, love. Poor motherless boy. Well, why have you come here? Why didn’t you wait at home for your father?”
“He doesn’t come home. He only sends letters. But he hasn’t sent one for a long time. And if I stayed, I’d have to go to the workhouse.”
The nurse kissed the top of the brown curly head. “Well, there’s no workhouse here. We’ll soon get you sorted. Now, why don’t you lie down, nice and comfy, and I’ll bring you a nice cup of tea and some bread. Are you hungry?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Will answered, finally remembering his manners.
“Fine. I’ll be right back,” She went down to the other end of the room and checked on the two men before going back into the kitchen. As she passed him the second time she called out, ”What is your name, angel?”
“Will Turner, ma’am.”
“I’ll see if I can’t find some jam for your bread, Will.” She smiled at him as she disappeared through the doorway.
Later that afternoon Will was awakened by the loud but brisk footsteps of booted feet. He opened his eyes to see the impressive figure of a brightly uniformed Naval Lieutenant and an extremely well dressed gentleman.
“Good afternoon. I am Lieutenant Norrington, do you remember me?”
“Yes, sir.” Will answered, sitting as straight as he could.
“And Governor Swann,” the officer indicated the kindly looking man next to him.
“Yes, sir.” Will bowed his head to the governor. “Your Grace.”
“Good. I trust you’re feeling well?” the Governor asked him.
“Yes, sir.”
Norrington nodded, pleased. “We’re here to inform you that, having no family present, and no visible means of support, you are now a ward of the Royal Government of Port Royal. You will remain here, in the infirmary, until a place can be found for you. Is that clear?”
Will bit his lip. “Yes, sir.” He wondered if he was going to be put in prison, but he dared not ask.
The Governor smiled. This was going well. “Now, have you any skills?”
Will, bit his thumbnail, unconsciously. “I can read, sir, and count. And I can make porridge.”
“Hmm,” The officer shared a displeased look with the governor.
“I’m a fast learner. I’m very strong.” Will added, hoping to please the men.
“How old are you, Mr. Turner?” the Lieutenant asked.
“Eleven, sir.”
Norrington sighed. “Very Good. Carry on.”
Will bowed his head again as both men exited. He was suddenly very nervous about his future.
Elizabeth Swann got up from the table when her father and James Norrington entered the kitchen. It wasn’t proper for young ladies to go among sailors, even sick ones, but she insisted upon at least coming to the infirmary. She’d been having a nice chat with the nurse, anyway. “Is he all right?”
“Yes, yes, he seems quite healthy.” The governor said, as he sat at the table.
The nurse brought tea for the men.
“Too young for the navy, I suppose?” The governor looked at Norrington.
James Norrington didn’t intend to have anyone under 15 in his barracks or on one of his ships. It could create . . . difficulties . . . with the men. He was only glad that the governor asked him to come and evaluate the boy, rather than the commodore. “Far too young.”
“Well, I suppose I’ll advertise an apprentice for hire and see who comes ‘round.”
“For hire?! Father!” Elizabeth exclaimed, outraged. “He’s no older than I!”
“Things among the lower classes are quite different, Miss Swann.” Norrington explained to her.
Elizabeth ignored him. “But Father, I thought he was your ward, why doesn’t he come and live with us? We have plenty of room!”
Both men chuckled condescendingly. “Elizabeth, that’s out of the question.”
“Why?” She demanded.
Norrington looked thoughtful. “Perhaps as a footman.”
“I have all the footmen I need,” the Governor assured him. “If no one needs an apprentice, I have no doubt that he can get work at the docks, or on a merchant ship. “
Norrington found himself feeling strangely protective of the boy, and wasn’t pleased by either of those options. But one step at a time, it wouldn’t do to argue with the Governor over a possibility. Certainly someone would need an apprentice. He finished his tea and stood. “I really must return to my duties, sir. “
“Of course,” The Governor nodded. “We should be going as well. Come, Elizabeth.”
“Couldn’t I just say hello?” she asked. “Please, Father, he’s all alone, he has no friends here.”
The governor frowned, but ultimately gave in to his daughter’s request. “Oh, very well. You may have a short visit.” He looked to the nurse, “More tea, if you please?”
*******
Elizabeth walked quietly up to the boy’s bed. “Hello, Will.”
He looked up and smiled. “Hello, Elizabeth. I mean, Miss Swann.”
“You may call me Elizabeth, “ She sat on the side of his bed. “I’ve missed you. How do you feel?”
“Better, my head doesn’t hurt as much. Thank you for keeping me company on the boat.”
“You’re welcome. I hope when you’re well you can come to visit, and we could play games on the lawn.”
“I’d like that. Thank you for inviting me.” Will wasn’t sure what ‘the lawn’ was, but it sounded fun.
Elizabeth opened her mouth to say something more, but her father called her before she could.
“Elizabeth, we must be going now.”
She sighed. “Well, goodbye, Will.”
“Goodbye, Miss Swann.” Will said, mindful of her father’s gaze.
*******
The nurse let them out, then looked back on her charges. She would hate for that poor boy to go to work on the docks, or worse -
“……To be taken off on some ship, to God knows what fate.” She fished in her purse for the proper coin. “Thank you, Mr. Brown,” she said taking the new gate hinge.
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Kelly. Uh, this boy, he’s recovered full health, you say?”
“Oh yes, he’s a strong little chap.”
“About this high?” Brown asked, leveling his hand at mid chest.
“Oh a bit taller, I’d say.”
“Really?” He smiled. “Well, if you have any problems with that hinge you just let me know.”
“Thank you, Mr. Brown.”
He saw her out, then locked the door and went through the back of the forge to his house for supper. He had something to discuss with his wife.
*******
The butler answered the bell and admitted Joseph Brown.
“May I state your business sir?”
“It’s about the boy. From the shipwreck? I’ll take him on, if he’s still available.”
“I’ll inform the governor you’re here, sir.”
The blacksmith pulled at his collar, feeling uncomfortable in the elegant surroundings. Luckily it was only a few minutes’ wait.
“Mr. Brown, the governor will see you now.”
He followed the butler to a nicely appointed office.
“Come in, Mr. Brown, come in,” The governor called, “I understand you’d like to have the boy as your apprentice?”
“Yes, sir, if you please.”
“That’s fine!” The Governor smiled, clapping his hands. “Please have a seat. I’ll just write out a contract here for you to sign,” he opened an inkwell and took up a quill, “or put your mark to. . . “
“I can sign, sir.” Mr. Brown said, trying to sit on the silk damask chair without putting any weight on it.
“Very good, very good.” The Governor continued to scratch away at the parchment. “Now then, this certifies that the boy, William Turner, is indentured to you, Mr. Joseph Brown, for seven years or until such time as he is eighteen years of age. You agree to give him adequate food, shelter and clothing, and to train him in your trade, which is blacksmithing, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Mmmm-hmmm,” Governor Swann finished writing out the document and signed it. He made an X and turned the paper on his desk. “And if you will sign there, Mr. Brown.”
The blacksmith dried his palms on his pants and took the quill, slowly writing out his name.
“Perfect.” The governor took the contract back, dripped wax on it and affixed his seal. “There we are! Now you simply need to take this to the naval infirmary and collect your boy. I’ll send a message to Lieutenant Norrington to expect you. This is working out well for everyone.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“Careful, the ink is still a bit wet.” Swann held out the contract.
Joe Brown took the document and was soon standing on the governor’s doorstep, a bit overwhelmed. He’d been expecting more of an interview and to meet the boy first. But, perhaps it was better this way.
He walked home first, to tell his wife he’d be bringing the boy home for supper.
When the messenger reached Norrington, he immediately dispatched him to the infirmary.
“’e says get de boy dressed, Rosie.”
“Dressed?” The nurse came out of the small kitchen, wiping her hands. “Whatever for?”
“’e’s been sold.”
“SOLD?!”
“Well, ‘pprenticed, den. Same as.”
“To who?”
“Brown. ‘E’s gonna be a blacksmif.”
“Blacksmith?” Rosie Kelly sighed. “Poor little mite. He thinks it’s hot here already.” The messenger laughed, and was given an angry glare. “All right, you’ve given the message. Be off with you!”
He turned and left, still chuckling, as the nurse gathered up the child’s clothing and carried the bundle into the ward.
“Well, Will, how are you feeling today?”
“Very well, ma’am. Can I get out of bed now?”
“Oh yes, you certainly can. We need to get you dressed up and looking presentable. You’ll be going to your new home soon.”
“My new home?” Will asked apprehensively.
“Oh, yes,” She pulled the too-big nightshirt over his head. “You’ve been apprenticed. Your new master and mistress will be here in two shakes. Here now, let’s wash your face. You want to look bright and shiny. “ She briefly rubbed a damp cloth over Will’s freckled cheeks.
“But I want to find my father! I’m not an orphan!” Will protested.
“I know, love, but you haven’t anyone here right now, and you don’t know where your father is. So the best thing for you is stay right here in Port Royal. Every ship passes through here sooner or later.” She pulled his shirt down and helped him step into his breeches. “So as long as you’re here you need to make a living, don’t you? And Mr. Brown has agreed to give you room and board, AND train you in a trade! Now, how could you ask for more?” She sat him on the bed and knelt down to help him into his shoes. The salt water hadn’t done them a bit of good, they were stiff and curled.
“What - what does Mr. Brown do?” Will winced as he helped her wedge his foot into a shoe.
“’My master’, ducks, you should call him ‘my master.’” She went to work on the other shoe.
“What - ouch!” He pulled his foot back.
“I know, angel,” She said sympathetically. “But this is all you have for now. Try pointing your toes *grunt* There we go!”
“What does my master do?” Will asked, trying to find a comfortable way to hold his foot in the painful shoes. He wished the sailors had never fished them out of the water.
Rosie tied his shirt closed at the neck. “Oh he’s a very good man. Church every Sunday, never cheats a customer.” She gave his brown vest a shake and pulled an arm through. “And Mrs. Brown, your mistress, she’s a VERY good cook. Wait ‘til you taste one of her pies. You’ll be the first child to grace that house, poor things. Stand up straight for me now.” She looked him over, making small adjustments. “Who’s a lovely boy then, hmmm? Now just let take a comb to you, see if I can’t get these curls in order.”
Will braced for the inevitable pain of pulled hair, but she was quite gentle.
She stood back and smiled at him. “Perfect. You look to be a fine little gentleman standing there! I’m sure they’ll be pleased with you.”
Will frowned, “What if they aren’t?”
She thought she heard voices coming close to the doors. She took Will’s face in her hands and looked him in the eye, speaking to him softly, but seriously. “Now you just be a good boy and make very sure they are, William Turner. You don’t know how lucky you are to be apprenticed. Terrible terrible things happen to sweet boys like you who go to work on the docks, or worse yet, are taken on board a ship of rough men who haven’t seen a wo- “ She looked up as the doors opened. She gave Will a quick kiss on the forehead. “Best manners!”
“Mrs. Kelly,” Lieutenant Norrington called.
“Here, sir!” She answered.
“Is the boy ready?” The officer came down the aisle between the beds, his head down, reading the contract. Joe and Maggie Brown followed behind.
“Ready and waiting, sir,” Rosie smiled. She pressed Maggie’s hand as the woman passed her. “I’m sure you’ll be very pleased.”
Maggie smiled. “It will be something, having a boy in the house.”
Norrington stopped at the foot of the bed where Will was standing, hands behind his back, trying not to fidget. “William Turner, this is Mr. Joseph Brown, your master. You are indentured to him for a period of seven years, during which he will train you as his apprentice.”
Will swallowed and bowed to Mr. Brown. He didn’t know if he should say something. He hoped not, as he didn’t know what to say.
“And your mistress,” Norrington continued. “Mrs. Brown.”
Will bowed to her as well.
Maggie smiled. “We’re happy to meet you, Will.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” Will answered.
“Come along now, Turner.” Norrington led the way back out the doors, at his customary brisk pace. Will barely had time to wave at his nurse.
Once outside Norrington handed the contract back to Joe. “Here you are, Mr. Brown. Best of luck to you.”
“Thank you, sir.” Joe answered him.
James turned to the boy. “This is an excellent opportunity, Mr. Turner, see that you make the best of it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I shall look in from time to time to note your progress. I don’t wish to be disappointed.”
“No, sir.” Will answered solemnly.
“Very Good.” the Lieutenant turned to Mrs. Brown and inclined his head, “Madame.” he said, and he took his leave.
Left alone in the street, Joe took Will’s shoulders and gave him a good looking over. “Hmmm, seems like we’ll have to put some meat on these bones, Maggie. Stiff wind would blow him away.”
“I’m sure we can see to that,” She grinned. “Let’s go home and get you a bit of luncheon, shall we, Will?”
“Yes, please, Mistress.” Will said, almost smiling himself.
They turned and began walking in the direction of the forge as Will hobbled behind. Joe looked back at him a few times. Finally he asked, “Are you lame, boy?”
“No Master!” Will assured him. “It’s only that my shoes have shrunk. I’m sorry.”
“Ah,” Joe looked down at the boys shoes. “Hmmm, well, we can’t have you unsteady on your feet.” He looked over at Maggie. “I think we’d better pay a visit to the cobbler before luncheon.”
“All right then, suppose I go home and everything will be ready when the two of you return?”
“Aye, that sounds fine.” Joe pressed her hand and they smiled at each other.
Will bowed his head to her, “Mistress.” Then followed his master as quickly as he could.
When Will took his shoes off to let the cobbler trace his feet, Joe saw that the salt dried leather was rubbing the small feet raw.
“I think you’d be just as well off without those as with them, boy.”
“Yes, Master,” Will agreed.
“You needn’t wear them home then.”
“Thank you, Master!” Will answered with relief.
Joe smiled at him then turned to the cobbler. “How long will those be, then, Connolly?”
“Oh, more ‘n a month. I have a few orders in front of yours.” The cobbler gestured to a stack of foot traces.
Joe frowned. “But I can’t have this boy barefoot in the forge.”
Will glanced up at him, no one had said anything about a forge.
“Oh, he’s to be your bellows boy, is he?”
“He’s my apprentice, Turner. Boy, this is Mr. Connolly.”
Will bowed. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”
“And you as well, “ the cobbler answered, smiling at the child’s manners. In this military outpost, most civilians were treated a bit like second class citizens. It’d been a long time since anyone had bowed to Clive Connolly. “Hmm, well, I suppose it is somewhat urgent, and they are a small pair. “ The cobbler scratched his chin. “I guess I could sew them up in about two days, without it delaying the others too much.”
“Thank you, Connolly.” Joe Brown said gratefully.
“Thank you, Mr. Connolly,” Will echoed.
“Two days, then.” Clive nodded, giving Will’s head a pat.
Will followed Joe back out into the street, the stones in the dirt were hot on his feet, but it felt better than the shoes. They walked down an alley then turned onto another street. Will could see the huge statue of a blacksmith from there. He looked up and noticed the sign; tongs, a hammer and an anvil over the name J. Brown. His master opened the door and walked through.
Will first saw a grey donkey who lifted her head, as if to nod to him.
“This is Belle, the lady who runs the shop,” Brown said, going over to pat the donkey’s back. “We keep her happy and we stay in business. Belle, dear, this is Will. He’ll be taking care of you from now on.”
Will petted the donkey’s neck. “Hello, Belle.”
“You’ll pump fresh water for her every morning and feed her breakfast. At nights you’ll rub her down, check her hooves and feed her her dinner. Weekly, you’ll muck out her track here and spread new straw.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good lad, now come here and I’ll show you how to build a good fire in the forge.” Brown led him to the forge and stood him on an upturned bucket so he could reach to clean out remains of the last fire. He showed him what was coke and what was coal and where it was placed, how and where to dump the ash gate, then how to put the kindling in the firepot and the delicate use of the bellows to get it going. As the fire began to roar, it developed a ‘heart’, a center of loose coke in the middle where the heating of the iron is done.
The heat was intense and Will was constantly wiping sweat out of his eyes. “May I get a drink, Master?”
“The barrel is over there,” Brown indicated with a jerk of his head, as his hands were busy with poker and rake. “You’ll fill that every morning as well.”
Will nodded and he took large gulps.
“Ah, take it slow now. You’ll adjust to the heat soon enough. “
Will wasn’t so certain of that, but he dared not say so. Just then Mrs. Brown came out to the smithy.
“Goodness, isn’t anyone hungry?” She asked.
If Will’s mouth hadn’t been full of water he would have burst out “I am!”
“Just showing the boy his responsibilities, but I would imagine we could both do with a good meal just now.” Brown smiled at his wife.
“Yes, Mistress, “ Will agreed.
She smiled at him. “I hope you like a nice fried fish?”
“Oh yes, Mistress!” Will nodded.
“Good! Joe will show you where to wash up, then come straight to the table.” She patted his head then went back into the house to set the table.
tbc