"I believe, very much." He glanced round as Allday, carrying his usual cloth, moved silently across the cabin to begin his daily ritual of polishing the old sword.
As he reached up for it Bolitho saw him stiffen, his arms in mid-air while the old pain lanced through him. It was never far away. He stooped slightly now, which he had never done before that terrible day when he had received a Spanish sword blade in his chest. It would have killed anyone but Allday. Bolitho saw him move his arms more slowly until the sword was safely in his grasp; he would know that he had seen it, just as he always knew when Bolitho was half-blinded by some harsh light. They both knew, and each pretended not to show it.
How long was it now? It had happened during the false Peace of Amiens: difficult to believe it had been all of eight years ago. The two deadly enemies resting briefly to lick their wounds and prepare for their next conflict. It was a wonder they had both survived. Too many familiar faces had not. How much would Unity be prepared to interfere to 'defend' American shipping and the rights of her sailors on the high seas? As Adam had commented, she would make a formidable adversary if used against his small mixed squadron.
Bolitho snatched a magnifying glass, and in his mind saw Tyacke's strong profile as he had described these waters he had come to know so well. "My compliments to the captain. Ask him to step aft." His voice was quite even, casual. Only the fact that Allday's polishing cloth had suddenly stilled showed that he recognised what was happening.
On the tilting quarterdeck, Captain Trevenen paused in his heavy pacing and regarded the flag lieutenant suspiciously.
Avery was careful not to rouse his temper. "Sir Richard wishes to discuss a matter with you, sir."
"Another whim to act upon, is it? My ship is getting short of water, of everything. All we do is waste time!"
Avery knew that the men on watch could hear every word, just as he understood what would happen if he drew Trevenen's attention to the fact.
Trevenen strode past the first lieutenant and barked, "Keep an eye on these idlers, Mr. Urquhart! There'll be extra work for every laggard if I catch them!"
As they passed Avery saw the other lieutenant's mouth form a silent curse. Their eyes met and Avery smiled. Urquhart was human after all.
In the cabin again Trevenen's head seemed to brush the deck head as he strode to the table.
He sounded incredulous, as if it had been an insult even to ask him. "What? This place?"
Bolitho watched him, his face like a mask. What was the matter with Trevenen, the real reason for his foul temper?
"This place, Captain. It is called San Antonio."
Trevenen seemed vaguely relieved. "It's nothing, sir. A wretched pile of rock in the middle of the ocean!" He sounded contemptuous, or as close to it as he dared.
"You met Commander James Tyacke, I believe?"
"I've seen him."
Bolitho nodded slowly. "You are quite correct. One does not necessarily mean the other. And to know that fine officer is something even rarer and more valued because of it."
Bolitho looked at the chart again if only to hide his anger.
"James Tyacke is a very experienced navigator and knows these waters well. He once mentioned San Antonio to me. A bleak place, uninhabited except for a small monastery and occasionally a fishing community, when the season is right. A rare order of monks, I understand, with a code of poverty and devotion. What better place to observe our shipping movements? Hardly nothing, I'd have thought!"
He looked at Allday's homely face, the sudden pain in his eyes as he remembered that day at San Felipe. Another island, another ocean; and they had been ordered to hand back the place to the French because of the Peace of Amiens.
He saw ASlday nod very slowly. There had been a mission there too, and Allday had all but paid with his life.
He swung aft towards Yovell and said, "Prepare to copy out some orders." He put his hand to his eye as the endless panorama of glittering mirrors mocked him.
"I want you to signal Lame to close on us. Light a flare if need be, but I think James Tyacke will understand."
"That is more than I do, sir." Trevenen stared at him. "If you value my word, I must tell you I am against wasting more time."
"It is my responsibility, Captain. I should not need to remind you."
He heard Trevenen's heavy feet crossing the quarterdeck, and the sudden activity as Larne's number was bent on to the halliards.
In his mind's eye Bolitho saw his little command: Larne leading the invisible line with Jenour's Orcadia well up to windward, her topsails visible to the masthead lookout.
Far, far astern was the other frigate Laertes, the prize that had once been Baratte's own flagship.
He thought of Adam when they had last met at Cape Town, the rebellion in his eyes when he had been ordered to remain with Keen's convoy and escort. He was the vital link between them and their flag officer in Valkyrie.
Adam had argued that his place was in the van, not with the slow-moving transports. Not with Valentine Keen, he had really meant.
Bolitho had been as honest as was possible.
He had said, "You are arguably one of the best young frigate captains in the fleet. You have more than proved it on this station. The recapture of your prizes and Thruster's loss must not deflect your aim. Your true worth will be at my right hand when I call for it." He had watched Adam's resistance soften as he had added, "If I keep you with me all the while, which I am sorely tempted to do, it will reek of favouritism to the others, will it not?"
But it had proved that Catherine's worst fear about Adam and Zenoria must be justified.
He looked at Yovell's fat hand holding his pen, Avery making a few notes from the chart.
Whatever it was, it would have to wait. He saw Allday give his lazy grin as he said, "Thought I'd forgotten, did you, Sir Richard? When we was together in Old Katie?" Even the affectionate nickname for Bolitho's little two-decker Achates brought it all back. "Strange to see how things slide along. Commodore was the captain, an' young Cap'n Adam was your flag lieutenant." He smiled almost shyly. "An' then there was me."
Bolitho touched his thick arm as he walked back to the table. "I thought I'd lost you that day, old friend." He spoke with such emotion that Avery and Yovell stopped to listen. Bolitho did not notice.
A midshipman tapped at the door and he saw the marine sentry's scarlet arm out-thrust, as if the boy was not important enough to be admitted.
"Beg pardon, Sir Richard. The captain's respects, and Lame has acknowledged."
Bolitho smiled at him. "Quite a mouthful, Mr. Rees. Thank you."
Allday murmured, That'll go through the young gentlemen's berth, an' that's no error."
Yovell said, "I'm ready, Sir Richard."
Bolitho touched Avery's shoulder. "I am going to put a landing party ashore. I want you to go with it."
Avery replied calmly, "For the experience, sir?"
Bolitho smiled. "Don't take offence at everything I say!" He shook his head. "Mr. Urquhart is a good officer." He almost added, if he is allowed to be. "But beneath his lieutenant's coat there is still only a boy." He glanced at Allday, but not before he had seen the surprise on Avery's face. "I would take it a favour if you would accompany my flag lieutenant, Allday."
He turned, but Bolitho was already standing behind Yovell's round shoulder, his face unusually stern with concentration.
To all captains and officers-in-charge of such vessels under my command...
He thought suddenly of the last courier schooner that had run down on them. He could not recall when it had been. One day was much like all the rest.
There had been no more letters from Catherine. He felt another touch of anxiety and concern. He could still hear her voice nonetheless. Don't leave me...
But all Avery saw was the vice-admiral.
It took another full day, even under all the sail Valkyrie could carry, before the small island of San Antonio was sighted by the masthead. Without the other ship
s in company it had been strangely lonely, and many times Bolitho had seen seamen pause in their work to stare at the sea as if they expected to sight another friendly vessel.
The island seemed to rise from the ocean itself as the Valkyrie tilted to the unwavering south-westerly. It was, as Tyacke had described, a bleak place. It could have been the remaining half of an extinct volcano, on the side of which Bolitho saw the crude monastery like an extension of the terrain it was built on.
With the coming of dawn every available glass was trained on it while the sailing master and his mates studied the chart, which they had mounted near the wheel itself.
Avery joined Bolitho by the quarterdeck rail, his jaw still moving discreetly on a piece of salt pork which was too tough to swallow.
"How long, sir?"
Bolitho rested his hands on the rail, feeling the rising heat that would soon engulf the whole ship.
Two hours. More or less." He rubbed his eye and trained the telescope once again. There was some smoke rising from a saddle in the land which he had taken earlier for haze. There was life here. He had heard that the monastery had had many changes of occupant during the course of its long life. Disease had taken a toll, and once, Tyacke had told him, all the monks had died of starvation simply because the sea had been too rough to launch any of their boats. What sort of men would give up the real world for such a demanding life, and, some would say, pointless sacrifice?
He heard Trevenen snapping out orders to his lieutenants. He was very much on edge, for the safety of his command, perhaps?
The sailing master called, "Steady on nor' nor' east, sir!"
Trevenen folded his hands behind his back. "Leadsman in the chains, Mr. Urquhart, lively now!"
The first lieutenant was with the master. "But there's no bottom hereabouts, sir."
"Damn it, do I have to repeat everything I say? Do as I tell you!"
Bolitho could understand any captain's anxiety for his ship. But this place was known for its isolation, and for the impossibility of landing here without the use of boats.
Avery thought the same but said nothing. He watched
Urquhart hurry past, his face flushed with humiliation at being upbraided in front of the hands.
The leadsman's cry echoed aft. "No bottom, sir!"
Bolitho raised the telescope and studied the hard landscape as it continued to grow and reach out on either bow. There was a patch of green below the monastery, a possible kitchen garden.
The sea was deep, and he watched a big swell at the foot of some fallen rocks. According to Tyacke and the chart there was a tiny cluster of huts used by visiting fishermen when their favourite catch was in season.
Bolitho saw Allday lounging against an eighteen-pounder, his new cutlass already in his belt. Urquhart might resent having Avery and Allday with him, especially as he was in charge. Trevenen would see to that.
Ozzard appeared at his side. "Shall I bring your coat, Sir Richard?"
Bolitho shook his head. "No. Someone may be watching us. It is better this way." He saw Ozzard's expression as he stared at the island. As if he loathed what he saw. What had done this to him?
"No bottom, sir!"
Trevenen said, "Shorten sail, Mr. Urquhart! Take in the t'gallants and stays' is We are moving too fast over the water!"
Men swarmed to the ratlines. With their captain on deck they needed no urging.
Bolitho stiffened. There was the landing place, and he could see one of the wooden huts beyond it. Even a castaway would feel wretched here.
He said "You may assemble the landing party, Captain."
Trevenen touched his hat but did not look at him.
Bolitho watched one of the cutters being swayed up from the boat tier. The chosen party of men looked capable enough. They were all armed, and he saw the gunner getting ready to supervise the mounting of a swivel in the boat's bows once it was in the water.
Urquhart had donned his sword, and looked vaguely ill at ease as he handed over his duties to the second lieutenant.
Bolitho watched the courses being brailed up to the yards and felt the way go off the ship as she rolled heavily in the offshore swell.
He said, "Just make certain that all is well, Mr. Urquhart. These are men of peace, and any unnecessary show of force would be resented. Discover what you can." He glanced at Allday. "And be careful."
Urquhart nodded stiffly, very aware of his captain standing nearby with a sardonic smile on his lips.
Trevenen said, "Stand by to wear ship. We shall heave-to!"
It would be a hard pull for the oarsmen, Bolitho thought. Nevertheless, he sensed that the sailors who were remaining on board envied the landing party.
"Sway out the boat!" As Valkyrie came up into the wind with all remaining sails flapping in confusion, the selected men clambered down into the cutter alongside. The last to board were the two lieutenants. Bolitho noticed that Urquhart was careful to climb down last, as if he needed to prove that, on this occasion at least, he was the senior officer.
"Bear off! Out oars!"
The cutter looked deceptively small in the great glassy swell, but was soon under command and cleaving through the steep water like a dolphin.
Bolitho said, "You may get under way again, Captain. But stand no further offshore."
Valkyrie steadied again as the courses and topsails were reset, and with neither Allday nor Avery to talk to be felt strangely depressed. Instinctively he reached up to his damp shirt and touched the locket inside. I am here. You are never alone.
He rubbed his left eye and winced. It must be getting worse. They must never know.
He took up the telescope again and looked for the boat but it was merging with the shore, moving briskly towards the landing-place, possibly aided by an undertow.
He went down into the cabin and dabbed his eye with water.
Yovell said gently, "Is there anything I can do, Sir Richard?"
He dropped the cloth, angry with himself. He had told others to delegate and to trust those they commanded, so what was the matter with him?
He answered, "I think everyone believes I am wasting time."
Yovell smiled inwardly. Bolitho meant the captain. "Never mind, Sir Richard. Mr. Avery and Allday will get a warm welcome. Fresh faces must be more precious than Christianity in this place!" He was surprised as Bolitho turned to stare at him, his eyes wild in the reflected light. Then without a word he snatched the old hanger from the bulkhead, and was still buckling it around himself as he ran to the companionway.
"Captain Trevenen!" He swung round blindly, unable to see him, caught off-guard by the sun's power. "Heave-to immediately!" He saw the others looking at him as if they thought him mad. Dyer, the second lieutenant, was turning to the captain, not knowing what to do.
Trevenen sounded very calm, almost defiant. "You ask me to perform some strange things, Sir Richard!"
"I am not asking you. Just do it!" He could not resist adding, "Do I have to repeat everything I say?" It was petty, and later he might regret it. But there was no time. Above the squeal of blocks and the boom of canvas he shouted, "I want two boats, a squad of marines in each one!" Men seemed to be scampering in all directions, dodging the hands at the braces and halliards as they brought the ship into the wind again.
Bolitho saw Plummer, the sergeant of marines, near the nettings and called, "Your best marksman and lively with it!" There was no time to seek out the debonair Captain Loftus. It might already be too late.
Why did I not think?
"I demand to know what is happening, Sir Richard! As officer appointed to command..." Trevenen got no further.
"Damn your eyes, sir! Stand closer inshore and watch for signals!" Then he was over the side and scrambling over the tumble home into the nearest boat.
"Let me, Sir Richard!" It was Captain Loftus of the marines. He was actually grinning. "I guessed something was up!"
Bolitho stared round, barely aware that the boats were away from the frigate's side,
the oars thrashing at the water until they found the stroke.
It seemed so wrong without Allday at his side. I should never have sent him.
"Can you tell me, Sir Richard? I appear to be the only officer present."
Boitho gripped his arm. They will think me insane.
But thank goodness Loftus was keeping his head. He peeked over the oarsmen as they dipped then rose above him, their eyes grim and intent. The shore seemed no nearer.
He said, "My secretary saw it. I did not. It was a feeling and nothing more. Because I had nothing left."
"Sir?" He was trying to understand.
Alexander Kent - Bolitho 20 Darkening Sea Page 26