Command a King's Ship Read online

  One of them called, `We showed the bastards, eh, sir?' Herrick paused, `That we did, lads. The captain was proud of you.'

  The seaman grinned more broadly. `Aye, sir. I seed 'im in the thick of it, walkin' about like 'e was on Plymouth 'Oe. I knew then that we was goin' to be all right.'

  Herrick climbed towards the sunlight and stared up at the torn sails. If only you knew, he thought sadly.

  He found the other lieutenants and warrant officers already assembled on the quarterdeck giving their various reports while Bolitho leaned against the mainmast trunk.

  When he saw Herrick he said, `There is still a good span of daylight left. We'll put the hands to replacing canvas and running-rigging while it lasts. I have ordered the galley fire to be lit, and we'll see that our people get a good meal.' He gestured towards the labouring storeship which was now less than a mile away. `We might even poach a few extra hands from her, eh?'

  Herrick saw the others watching Bolitho dully, their bodies almost limp with exhaustion and delayed shock. He guessed that this other Bolitho, cool, confident, filled with ideas again, was the one the seaman on the gun crew had pictured throughout the battle.

  The fact that he knew the real Bolitho behind the shield made him feel suddenly privileged and restored.

  12

  In for a Blow

  Rear Admiral Beves Conway made a dark silhouette against the window's colourful rectangle, but Bolitho could recognise his impatience even though his back was turned. Beyond him, still and peaceful above their own varying shadows, the anchored ships shone in the late sunlight.

  Undine lay apart from the heavy transport and the little brig Rosalind, and it was impossible to see the damage she had received from the French frigate's eighteen-pounders. Occasionally, when there was a lull in the voices, Bolitho heard the echoes of thudding hammers, the rasp of saws to show that only distance made Undine's trim appearance a lie.

  The air in the big, timbered room was cool after the open bay, and although the various figures sitting around it looked as if they had barely moved since his last visit, Bolitho noticed that the place itself had changed considerably in so short a time. More furniture, some rugs, and a whole array of gleaming decanters and glasses made it look lived in, rather than a fortress under siege.

  Don Luis Puigserver sat on a brass-bound chest, sipping wine, while James Raymond, tight-lipped and unsmiling, faced him across a littered table. The brig's master, Captain Vega of the original garrison and two red-coated soldiers from the Bedford made up the rest of the gathering. One of the latter, a heavy-faced man introduced briefly as Major Frederick Jardine, and who commanded the soldiers brought from Madras, Bolitho instantly recognised as the one he had seen there when he had been escorting Viola Raymond. He had a fat, belligerent face, and his small, piggy eyes had hardly left Bolitho since he had arrived. The other soldier, a Captain Strype, was his second-in-command, and a complete opposite. Tall and stickthin, with a black moustache, he spoke with a lisp, and had a short, barking laugh. He was probably rather stupid, Bolitho thought, but was obviously much in awe of his superior.

  Conway said sharply, `Naturally I am very distressed to learn of Argus's attack, Captain Bolitho.'

  Raymond said, `Unwarranted, too.'

  Conway turned lightly on his heels, his hair yellow in the sunlight. `But not unexpected, Raymond. Not by me, that is. It was obvious from the beginning that the French were implicated. They have to be, for their own interest's sake. We are lucky that Bedford's arrival put paid to their intention to take Captain Bolitho's ship from him.' He shifted his gaze, his tone incisive. `And he would have done so, eh?'

  Bolitho felt all their eyes on him. `I believe so, sir.'

  Conway bobbed his head. `Good. Good, Bolitho. I wanted the truth and, believe me, I know what it cost you.'

  Raymond tried again to put his point of view. `I think, sir, that we should despatch the brig to Madras without delay. Sir Montagu Strang may consider that further operations here might be imprudent.' He ignored Conway's stiffening shoulders. `Later, perhaps, some new plan may be conceived. Until then, we must take this affair as a warning.'

  Conway rasped, `A warning? Do you imagine that for one instant I will let some damned pirate work off his wrath on me and so imperil the very task I have just undertaken?' He stepped closer. `Well, do you?'

  Raymond paled but replied stubbornly, `I am here on behalf of the government, sir. As an adviser. The French must realise that you are out-manoeuvred before you have begun. If this Muljadi is allowed to plunder and ravage these waters, then there is no chance of using Pendang Bay as a new and flourishstation for trade. No shipping master would risk it.' He turned' towards the brig's captain. `Is that not so?'

  The man nodded glumly. `We need more protection, sir.'

  Raymond sounded triumphant. `Exactly! Which is what the French intend. If we ask for more men-of-war to patrol the area, they, too, will even the balance by sending additional consorts for Argus.'

  Conway stared at him. `Then so be it!'

  `No, sir. It would mean war. Argus is protected by her letter of marque. Muljadi is protected by his own power and backed up by his French friends. There are a thousand Muljadis in the Indies, some who are genuine rulers, and some who reign over fewer people than Captain Bolitho does at present. We all want to extend our trade and influence, to China -if need be, and beyond. There are riches we can only dream of, lands where people have never heard of King George, or Louis either, for that matter.'

  Bolitho said quietly, `You are advising the governor to admit defeat, sir. Do I understand correctly?'

  Raymond smiled calmly. `As you have done, eh?'

  Bolitho walked to the window and stared down at his ship. It gave him time. Allowed the sudden blinding anger to depart. In the lower enclosure he saw Midshipman Keen sitting with one of the ship's boys rescued from the Nervion. He had been detailed to look after Keen, to assist him, if only by making him rest. It was still not possible to be sure he would recover from his wound. Was it really only the day before yesterday? The smoke and noise, the aftermath of hard, heavy work to put their ship to rights. The sea-burials, each corpse heavily weighted to ensure it went straight down to avoid the prowling sharks.

  He said, `I take it, Mr. Raymond, you have never borne arms for your country?' He did not wait for an answer. `Had you ever worn the King's coat you would have known that one defeat, if admitted, is not the end of a battle.'

  He heard Captain Strype say in his thin voice, `By Gad, that's not much of an argument, what?'

  Bolitho turned swiftly, his tone hard. `I was addressing Mr. Raymond, sir, not some damned mercenary who because of his rank imagines himself to be a solider!'

  Don Puigserver brought his glass down to the table with a loud bang. `Gentlemen! I know that Vega and I are no longer involved here. I also believe that both Senor Raymond and the governor,' he bowed slightly to Conway, `are both right. With Muljadi free to use his ruthless power and so influence other friendly rulers in the Indies, you can make no advances. With more military strength you would only excite a hostile reaction and further French involvement.' He paused and gave an eloquent shrug. `Which I doubt my own country could ignore.'

  Bolitho nodded towards him, grateful for his interruption. Another second and he knew he would have said too much, and Conway, even had he wanted to, would have been unable to help him.

  Major Jardine cleared his throat. `Despite what the gallant captain has said,' he did not look at Bolitho, `I believe my force will be sufficient. I have two hundred sepoys and a mule battery. All experienced.' He had a thick voice, and sweated badly, despite the room's comparative coolness.

  Puigserver regarded him gravely. `If Nervion had been here, none of this could have happened. An additional ship, the men, and the showing of our flag to -the Argus would certainly have delayed, if not defeated, Muljadi's intentions.'

  Conway said, `But she is not here. Only the Undine.'

  Jardine said thic
kly, `And she does not seem to have acquitted herself too well.' He turned to Bolitho, his small eyes like steel. `Even as a mere soldier, a mercenary, I can see that neither of the schooners lies at anchor, and as far as we know, the Argus still flies Muljadi's colours. What sayyou, Captain?'

  Bolitho faced him. `The first schooner turned turtle and sank. The other took advantage of Argus's presence to escape.' He could feel little emotion now. Words and taunts were inevitable. It was better to get it over with. Clear the air.

  `Indeed, yes.' Jardine leaned back in his chair, his polished boots squeaking. `And then the Bedford arrived to give you help. The poor, much-maligned Company's own ship was the one to drive Argus away.'

  `Had you been there, Major '

  Jardine spread his plump hands. `But I was not, sir. I am a soldier. I am supposed to be able to leave such matters to our Navy, surely?'

  Conway said coldly, `I have heard enough. I will brook no more hostility here. Not from you, Bolitho,' he looked at Jardine, `nor from anyone else!' He thrust his hands behind him, making his sloping shoulders droop even further. `Had Undine been beaten in open combat I would have removed Captain Bolitho from command. He knows that well enough, and so should the rest of you. The Navy is too often expected to fight greater forces than itself possesses, and has been so successful in the past that victory against ridiculous odds is now taken for granted. By the empty-minded men of politics, and those who care more for quick profit than lasting security! As it is, Captain Bolitho will be required to sail without further delay, other than completing necessary repairs, for Muljadi's own territory in the strait.' He looked at Bolitho calmly. `You will make contact with Argus's captain, under flag of truce, and convey a message which I will give you.'

  Raymond said quickly, `May I suggest, plead with you, sir, that you allow Don Puigserver to go with Captain Bolitho? He has the right to demand the freedom of Spain's last governor here, Colonel Pastor. He could explain his displeasure at such-'

  Conway shouted, his voice bounding back from the timbered walls. `I have been appointed governor, Raymond! I don't need your apron strings, nor do I need the help of the King of Spain, d'you understand?'

  Raymond's defiance wilted under Conway's sudden anger. He said nothing.

  Puigserver stood up and walked slowly towards the door, followed gratefully by Capitan Vega.

  He paused and looked back at them, his eyes very dark. `I would have accompanied Capitan Bolitho with pleasure, of course.' He smiled briefly. `I have a great admiration for his courage, his . . .' he searched for the word, `... his integrity. But I have much to do. My task is to embark the remaining Spanish soldiers and their dependents on to the Bedford.' He glanced at Conway, his smile fading. `As you remarked this morning, the flag of Spain no longer has authority here.'

  Bolitho watched him stride out. He had sensed the tension as soon as he had arrived. It could not have been easy for Conway. Fretting over lack of news, waiting for supplies and troops to arrive. But he was wrong to antagonise Puigserver. If things went badly here, Conway would need all the references he could get, even in Spain.

  Jardine remarked vaguely, `I'd better be off then. Settle the sepoy s in their company lines, and replace the marines as sentries and pickets.'

  No thanks, no admiration for what Captain Bellairs and his marines had achieved in so short a time. Bolitho glanced through the window again. The encroaching brush and creeper cleared away, and corpses buried. The place used as a hospital had been cleaned and painted, and even Whitmarsh had been full of praise for their efforts.

  Conway nodded. `I will meet you here after sunset, Major.'

  Bolitho waited until the two soldiers had left the room and then said, `I am sorry about my outburst, sir. But I have had my bellyful of his kind.'

  Conway grunted. `Perhaps. But you will hold your tongue in future. If Jardine commanded only a handful of crippled beggars I would say the same. I need every man I can get.'

  Raymond stood up and yawned. `This damned heat. I think I'll take a nap before dinner.'

  He, too, walked out. He did not look at Bolitho.

  Conway said softly, `He disliked your remark about bearing arms, you know.' He chuckled. `His wife has been singing the praises of sea-officers in general during your absence, and you in particular.' He frowned. `I seem to be plagued with those intent on disruption.'

  `Is she well, sir?' He could not face him. `I have not seen her since my return.'

  `She's been assisting that sot of a surgeon with the sick and wounded.' His eyebrows mounted. 'Surprised? By God, Bolitho, you've much to learn about women!' He nodded sharply. `But you'll see, all in good time.'

  Bolitho recalled her refusal to help tend the injured aboard Undine after Puigserver had been carried aboard more dead than alive. And her reasons? He sighed. Perhaps Puigserver and Conway were both right. He had much to learn.

  He replied, `I will return to the ship, sir. There will be a lot to arrange.'

  `Yes.' Conway watched him thoughtfully. `And remember., When you meet Argus's captain, keep your personal feelings to yourself. He is doing his own work as best he can. You would do the same if so ordered. If Le Chaumareys is still in command, and not killed by one of your guns, he will be eager to meet you also. He is older than you, but I think you may have something in common.' His lines deepened as he added dryly, `A disrespect for your superiors, if nothing else!'

  Bolitho picked up his hat. You could never be sure about Conway. Where the warmth ended and the steel began.

  Conway said, `Please come ashore tonight and dine with the rest of . . .' he waved one hand around the room, `... the castaways.'

  Bolitho recognised the dismissal and walked from the room.

  Beyond the palisades the jungle was as thick and as overpowering as ever, and yet already the place felt familiar, lasting.

  He found Allday lounging in the shade below the main entrance. He was watching some native women who were washing clothes in a large wooden trough. They were small and olive-skinned, and although well covered, displayed supple charm which Allday apparently admired greatly.

  He straightened his back and said, `All done, Captain?' He saw Bolitho's glance and nodded. `Fair little wenches. We will have to watch our people, Captain.'

  `Only the people?'

  Allday grinned. 'Ah, well now ...'

  At that moment Bolitho saw the surgeon emerge from the makeshift hospital, wiping his hands on a rag and squinting into the slanting sunlight.

  He saw Bolitho and nodded. `Two of the men wounded in your battle can return to work, sir. Two more died, as you know, but the rest stand a good chance of survival.' He looked away. `Until the next time.'

  Bolitho considered his words. A total of twelve had died because of Argus. Despite the luck at there being few in comparison to the fierceness of the battle, it was too many. He sighed. Perhaps Herrick had got some more `volunteers' from the other ships.

  Whitmarsh said, `Your coxswain did a good job, by the way. The boy should have died by rights.' He looked at Allday. `Wasted. You should make something of your life.'

  Bolitho said quietly, `I am glad you thanked him for his efforts on Mr. Keen's behalf. But I am sure he will decide his own future.'

  Allday could have been stone-deaf for all the notice he paid to their comments.

  Whitmarsh said, `Well, anyway, sir, I've cleaned up a bit here. Most of them will heal, although a few more will die before they reach Spain. Disease mostly, of course.'

  `Of course?'

  Whitmarsh looked him full in the eyes. `Rotten with it. Just as they have given it to these poor ignorant savages, too. If any one of your sailors comes to me with that damned pox, I'll make him wish he'd never touched a woman in his life!'

  `They are your sailors, too, Mr. Whitmarsh.'

  Bolitho regarded him searchingly. Despite his usual attitude where naval matters were concerned, he looked a great deal better. Or perhaps there was little to drink here? Either way, he was nothing
like the drunken hulk who had tumbled aboard in England.

  `So there you are, Captain!'

  He turned and saw her watching him from the entrance. She was almost covered by a white smock, and wore the same straw hat she had brought from Santa Cruz. Her eyes were in shadow, but there was no doubting the warmth of her smile.

  He replied, `I am grateful for what you have done, ma'am.'

  Whitmarsh nodded. `She is the one who took charge here. Organised the whole hospital from top to bottom.' His admiration was genuine.

  She smiled at Allday and then slipped her hand through Bolitho's arm.

  `I'll walk with you to the beach, if I may. It is so refreshing to have you back again.'

  Bolitho could feel Whitmarsh and Allday watching them.

  He said, `You are looking, er, very well.'

  Her hand tightened very slightly. `Say Viola.'

  He smiled. `Viola.'

  `Better.'

  When she spoke again her voice was different. `I saw your ship dropping anchor and was half mad with anxiety. I wanted James to take me out to her by boat. He refused. He would, Then I saw you with a telescope. It was like being there with you. And today I have spent a little time with Valentine.'

  `Valentine?' Bolitho looked at her profile. `Who is that?'

  She laughed. `Of course, you would never remember a thing like a mere name. Why, I am speaking of your Mr. Keen.' The mood changed again. `The poor boy. He looks so ill, yet can speak of no one but you.' She gripped his arm hard. `I am almost jealous!'

  Bolitho looked past her to where the gig lay beached on the sand, the small breakers hissing and receding around it. The boat's crew were engaged in noisy conversation with some seamen from the brig, and it was plain they were describing what they still saw as their victory over the Argus and the schooners.

  He smiled, despite his earlier bitterness and disappointment. Perhaps they were right. To remain alive under such circumstances could well be seen as a victory.

  She was looking at him, standing slightly apart as if searching for something.