”Aye, sir.” Haven sounded tense. Angry with himself for not thinking of the obvious. He could scarcely blame Parris for that.
Bolitho glanced around as the shadows nearby took on shape and personality. Two young midshipmen, both in their first ship, the officer-of-the-watch, and below the break in the poop he saw the tall, powerful figure of Penhaligon the master. If he was satisfied with their progress you would never know, Bolitho thought.
”Deck there! Upholder in sight!”
Bolitho guessed the voice was that of Rimer, master’s mate of the watch. He was a small, bronzed man with features so creased that he looked like some seafarer from a bygone age. The other vessel was little more than a blur in the faint daylight, but Rimer’s experience and keen eye told him all he needed to know.
Bolitho said, ”Mr Jenour, get aloft with a glass.” He turned aside as the young lieutenant hurried to the shrouds. ”I trust you climb as fast as you ride?”
He saw the flash of teeth as Jenour grinned back at him. Then he was gone, his arms and legs working with all the easeof a nimble maintopman.
Haven crossed the deck and looked up at Jenour’s white breeches. ”it will be light enough soon, sir.”
Bolitho nodded. ”Then we shall know.”
He bunched his fists together under his coat-tails as Jenour’s voice pealed down.
”Signal from Upholder, sir! Thor in company!”
Bolitho tried not to show excitement or surprise- Imrie had done it.
”Acknowledge!” He had to cup his hands to shout above the slap of canvas and rigging. There was no further signal from Upholder. It meant nothing had gone wrong so far, and that the ungainly lighter was still safety in tow. He said, ”When the others are in sight, Captain Haven, signal them to proceed while we are all of one mind. There is no time for another conference. Even now there is a chance we might be discovered before we are all in position.”
He walked to the nettings again. There was no point in showing doubt or uncertainty to Haven. He looked aloft as more and more of the rigging and spars took shape in the sunlight. It was strange that he had never mastered his dislike of heigts. As a midshipman he had faced each dash aloft to help shorten or make d as a separate challenge. At night in particular, with the more sai yards heeling over towards the bursting spray and the deck little his feet, he had felt an enduring more than a blur far beneath terror. -top He saw some Royal Marines on the mizzen their scarlet coats very bright while they leaned over the barricade to watch for th brig Upholder. Bolitho would have dearly liked to climb up past them without caring, as Jenour had done. He touched his left eyelid,” then blinked at the reflected sunlight. Deceptively dear, but the worry was always there.
He looked along the upper deck, the gun crews standing down to go about their normal tasks as the first tension disappeared with the night.
So many miles. Too many memories. During the night when he had lain awake in his cot listening to the sluice and creak of the sea around the rudder he had recalled another time when Hyperion had sailed this far, while he had been her captain. They had slipped past the Isles of Pascua in the darkness and Bolitho could remember exactly that dawn attack on the French ships anchored there. And it was nine years ago. The same ship. But was he still the same man?
He glanced up at the mizzen top and was suddenly angry with himself.
”Hand me that glass, if you please.” He took it from a startled midshipman and walked purposefully to the weather shrouds.
He could feel Haven watching him, saw Parris trying not to state from the larboard gangway where he was in discussion with Sam Lintott, the boatswain. Probably telling him when to rig the gratings so that punishment could be carried out as ordered.
Then he saw Allday squinting up from the maindeck, his jaw still working on a piece of biscuit while he, too, stared with astonishment. Bolitho swung himself up and around the shrouds and felt the radines quiver with each step while the big signals telescope bounced against his hip like a quiver of arrows.
It was easier than he would have believed, but as he clambered into the top he decided it was far enough.
The marines stood back, nudging and grinning to each other.
Bolitho was able to recall the name of the corporal, a fiercelooking man who had been a Norfolk poacher before he sign on with the Corps. Not before time, Major Adams had hinted darkly.
”Where is she, Corporal Rogate?”
The marine pointed. ”Yonder, sir Larboard bow.”
Bolitho steadied the long telescope and watched as the brigs narrow poop and braced yards leapt into view. Figures moved about Upholder’s quarterdeck, steeply angled as the ship heeled over to show her bright copper to the early sunshine.
Bolitho waited for Hyperion to sway upright, and beyond Upholder mizzen topmast he saw a tan-coloured pyramid of sails. Thor was ready and waiting.
He lowered the glass as if to bring his thoughts into equal focus. Had he decided from the very beginning that he would lead the attack? If it failed, he would be taken prisoner, or ... He gave a grim smile. The ‘or’ did not bear thinking about.
Corporal Rogate saw the secret smile and wondered how he would describe it to the others during the next watch below.
How the admiral had spoken to him, just like another Royal.
One of us.
Bolitho knew that if he sent another officer and the plan misfired, the blame would be laid at his door anyway.
They had to trust him. in his heart Bolitho knew that the next months were crucial for England, and for the fleet in particular.
Leadership and trust went hand in hand. To most of his command he was a stranger and their trust had to be earned.
He considered his argument with sudden contempt. Deathwish. Was that a part of it too?
He concentrated on the brig’s sturdy shape as she ducked and rose across steep waves. In his mind’s eye he could already see the land as it would appear when they drew nearer. The anchorage at La Guaira consisted mainly of an open roadstead across the front of the town. it was known to be heavily defended by several fortresses, some of which were quite newly constructed because of the comings and goings of treasure-ships. Although La Guaira was just six miles or so from the capital, Caracas, the latter could only be reached by a twisting, mountainous road some four times that distance.
As soon as Hyperion and her consorts were sighted the Spanish authorities would send word to the capital with all the haste they could manage. Because of the time it would take on that precarious road, La Guaira might just as well be an island, he thought.
All the intelligence they had been able to gather from traders and blockade-runners alike pointed to the captured frigate Consort being at Puerto Cabello, eighty miles further westward along the coast of the Main.
But suppose the enemy did not fall for the ruse, would not believe that the British men-of-war were intending to cut out the new addition to their fleet?
So much depended on Price’s maps and observations, and above all, luck.
He looked down at the deck far below and bit his lip. He knew he would never have sent a subordinate to carry out such a mission even nine years back when he had commanded the old Hyperion. He glanced at the marines. ”There’s work for all of you soon, my lads.”
He swung himself down on to the futtock shrouds, more conscious of their faces split into huge grins than of the wind which flapped around his coat as if to fling him to the deck. it was so easy. A word, a smile, and they would die for you. It made him feel bitter and humble at the game time.
By the time he had reached the quarterdeck his mind had cleared. ”Very well. In one hour we shall alter course to the sou’ west.” He saw the others nod. ”Have Upholder and Tetrarch tack closer to the land. I don’t want the Dons to get near enough to see our strength.” He saw Penhaligon the sailing master give a wry smile and added, ”Or our lack of it. Thor will hold to windward of us in company with Vesta. Let me know when it is light enough to make signals.” He turned to
wards the poop and then paused.
”Captain Haven, a moment if you please.”
In the great cabin the strengthening sunlight made strange patterns on the caked salt which had spattered the stern windows. Most of the ship had been cleared for action before dawn.
Bolitho’s quarters were like a reminder of better times, until these screens were taken down, and the cabin furniture with all traces of his occupation here were taken to the security of the hold. He glanced at the black-barrelled nine-pounders which faced their closed ports on either side of the cabin. Then these two beauties would have the place to themselves.
Haven waited for Ozzard to close the screen door and withdraw, then stood with his feet apart, his hat balanced in both hands.
Bolitho looked at the sea beyond the smeared glass. ”I intend to shift to Thor at dusk. You will take Hyperion with Vesta and Tetrarch in company. By first light tomorrow you should be in An sight of Puerto Cabello and the enemy will be convinced that you intend to attack. They will not know your full strength -we have been lucky in reaching this far undetected.”
He turned in time to see the captain gripping his hat so fiercely that it buckled in his fingers. He had expected an outburst or perhaps the outline of an alternative strategy. Haven said nothing, but stared at him as if he had misheard.
Bolitho continued quietly, ”There is no other way. If we are to capture or destroy a treasure-ship it must be done at anchor. We have too few ships for an extended search if she slips past us.” Haven swallowed hard. ”But to go yourself, sir? In my experience I have never known such a telling.”
”With God’s help and a little luck, Captain Haven, I should be in position in the shallows to the west of La Guaira at the very moment you are making your mock attack.” He faced him steadily. ”Do not risk your ships. If a large enemy force arrives you will discontinue the action and stand away. The wind is still steady at north-by-west. Mr Penhaligon believes it may back directly which would be in our favour.”
Haven looked around the cabin as if to seek an escape.
”He may be wrong, sir.”
Bolitho shrugged. ”I would not dare to disagree with him.”
But his attempt to lighten the tension was lost as Haven blurted out, ”If I am forced to withdraw, who will believe...” Bolitho looked away to hide his disappointment.
”I have new orders written for you. No blame will be laid at your door.” Haven said, ”I was not suggesting it merely for my own benefit, sir!”
Bolitho sat down on the bench seat and tried not to think of all those other times when he had sat here. Hopes, plans, anxieties.
He said, ”I shall want thirty seamen from your company. I would prefer an officer whom they know to command them.”
Haven said instantly, ”May I suggest my first lieutenant, sir?” Their eyes met. I thought you might. He nodded. ”Agreed.”
Calls trilled from the quarterdeck and Haven glanced at the door.
Bolitho said abruptly, ”I have not yet finished.” He tried to remain calm but Haven’s behaviour was unnerving. ”If the enemy does throw a force against you there is no way that you can cover my withdrawal from La Guaira.”
Haven lifted his chin slightly. ”If you say so, Sir Richard.”
”I do. In which case you will assume command of the flotilla.”
”And may I ask what you would do, sir?”
Bolitho stood up.”What I came to do.” He sensed that Allday was waiting close by the door. Another argument, when he told him he was not coming over to Thor with him.
”Before you leave, Captain Haven.” He tried not to blink as the mist filtered persistently across his lefteye. ”Do not have those men flogged. I cannot interfere, because everyone aboard would know that I had taken sides, as you already knew when you crossed swords with your senior in my presence.” He thought he saw Haven pale slightly.
”These people have little enough, God knows, and to see their messmates flogged before being ordered into battle can do nothing but harm. Loyalty is all-important, but remember that while you are under my flag, loyalty goes both ways.”
Haven backed away. ”I hope I know my duty, Sir Richard.”
”So do I!” He watched the door close, then exclaimed, ”God damn him!’
But it was Jenour who entered, wiping tar from his fingers with a piece of rag.
He watched as if to gauge Bolitho’s mood, and said, ”A fine view from up there. I have come to report that your signals have been made and acknowledged.” He glanced up as feet thudded overhead and voices echoed from the maindeck. ”We are about to change tack, Sir Richard.”
Bolitho barely heard. ”What is the matter with that man, eh?”
Jenour remarked, ”You have told him what you intend.” Bolitho nodded. ”I’d have thought any captain would have jumped at the chance to cast his admiral adrift. I know I did.” He stared round the cabin, searching for ghosts. ”Instead, he thinks of nothing but -” He checked himself. It was unthinkable to discuss the flag captain with Jenour. Was he so isolated that he could find no other solace?
Jenour said simply, ”I am not so impertinent as to say what I think, Sir Richard.” He looked up and added, ”But I would stand by whatever you ordered me to do.”
Bolitho relaxed and clapped him- on the shoulder. ”They say that faith can move a mountain, Stephen!”
Jenour stared. Bolitho had called him by name. It was probably a mistake.
Bolitho said, ”We will transfer to Thor before dusk. It must be smartly done, Stephen, for we have a long way to travel.”
It was not a mistake. Jenour seemed to glow. He stammered, ”Your coxswain is waiting outside, Sir Richard.” He watched as Bolitho strode across the cabin, then chilled as he cannoned into a chair which Haven must have moved.
”Are you all right, Sir Richard?” He fell back as Bolitho turned towards him. But this time there was no anger in his sensitive face.
”My eye troubles me a little. It is features.” Bolitho said quietly,. ”now send in my cox’n.”
Allday walked past the lieutenant and said, ”I have to speak my piece, Sir Richard. When you goes across to that bomb,” he almost spat out the word, ”I’ll be beside you. Like always, an’ I don’t give a bugger, beggin’ your pardon, Sir Richard.”
Bolitho retorted, ”You’ve been drinking, Allday.”
”A bit, sir. Just a few wets afore we leave the ship.” He put his head on one side like a shaggy dog. ”We will, won’t we, sir?” It came out surprisingly easily. ”Yes old friend. Together. One more time.”
Allday regarded him gravely, sensing his despair. ”What is it, sir?”
”I nearly told that youngster, Jenour. Nearly came right out with it.” He was talking to himself aloud. ”That I’m terrified of going blind.”
Allday licked his lips. ”Young Mr Jenour looks on you as a bit of a hero, sir.”
”Not like you, eh?” But neither of them smiled.
Allday had not seen him like this for a long while, not since....
He cursed himself, took the blame for not being here when he was needed. It made him angry when he compared Haven with Captain Keen, or Herrick. He looked around the cabin where they had shared and lost so much together. Bolitho had nobody to share it with, to lessen the load. On the messdecks the jacks thought the admiral wanted for nothing. By Jesus, that was just what he had. Nothing.
Allday said, ”I know it’s not my place to say it, but...”
Bolitho shook his head. ”When did that ever stop you?”
Allday persisted, ”I don’t know how to put it in officers’ language like.” He took a deep breath. ”Cap’n Haven’s wife is havin’ a baby, probably dropped it by now, I shouldn’t wonder.”
Bolitho stared at him. ”What of it, man?”
Allday tried not to release a deep breath of relief as he saw the impatience in Bolitho’s grey eyes.
”He thinks that someone else may be the father, so to speak.” Bolitho exclaimed, �
�Well, even supposing -”
He looked away, surprised, when he ought not to have been, at Allday’s know ledge. ”I see.”It was not the first time. A ship in dock, a bored wife and a likely suitor. But it had taken Allday to put his finger on it.
Bolitho eyed him sadly. How could he leave him behind? What a pair. One so cruelly wounded by a Spanish sword thrust, the other slowly going blind.
He said, ”I shall write some letters.”
They looked at each other without speaking. Cornwall in late October. Grey sky, and rich hues of fallen leaves. Chippinghammers in the fields where farmers took time to repair their walls and fences. The elderly militia drilling in the square outside the cathedral where Bolitho had been married.
Allday moved away towards Ozzard’s pantry. He would ask the little man to write a letter for him to the innkeeper’s daughter in Falmouth, though God alone knew if she would ever get it.
He thought of Lady Belinda and the time they had found her in the overturned coach. And of the one named Catherine who might still harbour feelings for Bolitho. A fine-looking woman, he thought, but a lot of trouble. He grinned. A sailor’s woman, no matter what airs and graces she hoisted at her yards. And if she was right for Bolitho, that was all that mattered.
Alone at his table Bolitho drew the paper towards him and watched the sunlight touch the pen like fire.
In his mind he could see the words as he had written them before. ”My dearest Belinda.”
At noon he went on deck for his walk, and when Ozzard entered the cabin to tidy things he saw the paper with the pen nearby. Neither had been used.
Chapter Six
‘In’ War There Are No Neutrals -.
The transfer from Hyperion to the bomb-vessel Thor was carried out just before sunset, without mishap. Men and weapons with extra powder and shot were ferried across, the boats leaping and then almost disappearing between the crests of a deep swell.
Bolitho watched from the quarterdeck while Hyperion lay hove-to, her canvas booming in protest, and once again marvelled at the sunset’s primitive beauty.
The long undulating swell, like the boats and their labouring crews, seemed to glow like rough bronze, while even the faces, around him looked unreal; like strangers.
Alexander Kent - Bolitho 17 Page 8