“With respect Mr Irvine sir,” replied the cox’n, ‘You don’t know the man like His Lordship and me…and Miss…..Lady Courtenay. That man is capable of just about anything.”
Courtenay turned to him and smiled and nodded. Fenwick closed the night-glass with a snap. “Orders sir?”
“Close on Matilda. Captain Stevens can give us his report when it gets light. Flags? when we are in visual contact, make to her, Captain to repair on board for breakfast.”
Wetherby smiled. “Aye aye sir.”
Captain Martin Stevens did indeed provide a full report when he came on board the flagship and it was fully as Courtenay expected it to be. The man entrusted with the night-glass had picked up the shape of a what appeared to be a frigate closing the shore, moving slowly as would be obvious, but on the course being taken, heading straight for the mouth of the Bamira, where Justify would be waiting. When Stevens spoke of this, Wetherby and Courtenay exchanged looks. Whoever was giving the mercenaries information knew the reason the brig had been stationed where she had been, and it was clear the frigate intended to steal in during darkness and either board and take the brig, or severely damage her so that Courtenay would be denied another ship.
“So they must have had someone on board who knew the coastline to guide them in the dark.” concluded Stevens, smiling at Kingston as he was handed a fresh mug of coffee. “Otherwise, surely even this Peron fellow would not have attempted to close the land in the dark?”
“Silly question Martin and I apologise in advance for asking it, but are you sure it was a frigate?” asked Courtenay, looking thoughtful.
“Absolutely certain. Not only did the man with the glass identify it straight away, but I had a look myself. Frigate, positively. Of course when we opened fire, he wore ship in a hurry and made off into the darkness, but I think we frightened him and I am fairly certain we hit him.”
“Good, thank you Martin. Very well, you will return to your fine ship and continue with your normal patrols.”
“Of course, but from what you have told me, wherever these mercenaries are working from cannot be more than a few hundred miles away, and has to be to the south, otherwise, as you have already pointed to, they stand a chance of running into our anti-slavery patrols out of Freetown.”
“Yes, well that is going to be my next step, to carry out a patrol to the south and see what can be found.”
“Well, thank you for the coffee. I had best return to Matilda and get back on patrol.”
Courtenay smiled. “And how, may I ask, is the other Matilda?”
“I saw her just before we left. She is in very good health thank you sir.”
They shook hands and Fenwick saw him over the side. He went to the cabin to see his friend leaning over the chart with Wetherby standing close by with a pad and pencil ready to take notes. “Can I help?” he asked.
“Ah there you are James. Yes, I do believe you may be able to.” He looked round and saw Trafford. “Ask the Master to lay aft, Alex.”
“Aye aye sir.”
“Sir?” said Ben Richardson when he arrived from where he had been supervising a class on navigation for the Midshipmen. He was glad of the break and the chance to hand the class to his senior Mate! “Is there something I can do?”
“Yes Mr Richardson, I believe there may be. Take a look at the chart here. To the south of here, if you were looking for a place that had a good harbour with facilities for food and water, within let us say 500 miles, where would you suggest?” Courtenay gestured to the man to sit if he wished.
“Within about 500 miles you say sir? And to the south. I assume that is because whoever these damned pirates are, to have dropped off that raiding party and then gone back for them, seein’ how they couldn’t really ‘ang around waitin’ for them ‘cos we might have come across them, and to the north they might have run into the lads from Freetown?” Courtenay smiled and nodded. “Well this place here has good facilities, I seem to recall from callin’ in there once when I was a shaver. Good anchorage, but when I was there, the ruler, who liked to call ‘isself an Emperor had a fortress of a place. I suppose it were a bit like the place you last ‘ad a go at sir, you know with the old Dey of Algiers. Stone walls, ramparts, gun embrasures, the usual sort of thing.”
“Batteries?” asked Fenwick.
Richardson twisted in his chair to look at him. “Yes sir, I reckon there were, although I didn’t see ‘em myself. I weren’t privy to things like that in them days.” He looked back at Courtenay. “From what the Cap’n has told me sir, looks like we are dealing with a corvette an’ a frigate at least. They ain’t likely to be anchored off this place, in my view, beggin’ your pardon sir, are they?”
Courtenay smiled again. “No Mr Richardson, I doubt they will be, but I would not mind wagering they would not be far away. Where you have suggested would be an ideal place for them to hide.”
“But to do that, whoever now rules this place would have to know what they are doing and be in on their plan, or perhaps even be the person behind it.” put in Fenwick.
“Yes, he may be, and it may well just be the usual old chestnut of the King having something that this person wants. We do not know the name of the person who now runs this place, er, what is it called?”
“Mondiana sir.” said Wetherby.
“Thank you Flags. Very well Mr Richardson, thank you for your time. You may return to the navigation class I have dragged you away from!”
“Aye sir. Beats me how some of them young gentleman managed to find their way aboard afore we left!”
Fenwick smiled broadly at the Sailing Master’s back as he left, then turned to Courtenay with a serious face. “So are going to look into this Mondiana place Giles?”
“I intend to, but you will remain here. When Tiger reaches the end of her patrol line here in a couple of days’ time, I intend to go aboard her and use her to carry out a little investigation to the south.” He saw his friend groan and smiled. “Yes James,. I know you do not like the inactivity, but we have to have your ship here, where the King can see it is guarding his back door, so as to speak. By the way, what of Dolphin?”
“Mr Harvey is planning to finish repairing as many of the shot holes he can today and then pump the ship dry enough to refloat her. Then I will have the boats lowered and she can be warped into the river and up to that dock. We can careen her and have her better repaired from there.”
“Excellent. Let him do that then and we will decide on how she is to be crewed.”
“I may have a suggestion there Giles, but leave that for me for the time being.”
“Very well, so be it.”
It was during as four bells in the forenoon watch were ringing from the foc’s’le belfry that a look-out reported a small boat under sail had appeared from the mouth of the river. Justify had recently left for a patrol along the river, up as far as the diamond mine that was not far from the north bank. When the small boat came closer, it was apparent that Peter Minter was aboard, and he wasted no time in coming up the stairs and through the entry port, to find James Fenwick waiting for him.
“Good morning Captain. Have I your permission to come aboard? My name is Minter, Peter Minter. I am…”
Fenwick offered his hand. “I know who you are Mr Minter, and I am very pleased to meet you. My name is James Fenwick. The Admiral has been informed of your approach. Will you follow me?”
“Good morning Mr Minter, what can I do for you? Some refreshment perhaps?” said Courtenay warmly when Minter and Fenwick entered the cabin.
“Well, er, perhaps a glass would not come amiss.”
“Good, I have an excellent claret. Trafford, ask Kingston to bring a bottle and some glasses, if you please?”
“Already here sir.” said the cox’n as Kingston came out of his pantry with bottle and glasses on a tray.
Minter took a glass and sipped rom it, but Courtenay and Fenwick gained the impression he was not actually tasting it because he had a concerned look etched on
his face.
“Is there a problem Mr Minter? I can assure you that is an excellent claret.” urged Courtenay.
“It is not the claret my Lord. Yesterday I had a visit from the King’s brother, Duma, on behalf of the King. It was not a very pleasant meeting, at which Mr Spencer-White was also present. It seems the King is growing very agitated about the fact you will not release the prisoners you took in the failed attempt on the diamond mine at Mousi. He is,ah, rather anxious to deal with them in his own way, since they were of course caught trying to damage his mine and also bring harm to the country’s economy.”
Courtenay paced to the sternlights and back. “Well, I think that all present here can guess at the kind of treatment the prisoners would receive if I did that Mr Minter. Their lives would not be worth a bent halfpenny. Whilst I accept they may well meet their end with a noose around their necks, that at least would be relatively dignified way of going. I know there are creatures such as crocodiles in that river. What would he do? Bind them hand and foot and throw them in the water? I apologise if that sounds a little harsh.”
Minter drained his glass and watched it instantly refilled, then smiled. “Yes, I am fairly certain they would meet their end in a very unpleasant fashion, but technically they are the King’s prisoners.”
“No, they were captured by King George’s men, but we will attempt a compromise. Please tell the King’s brother, if that is you are to reply to, that these men may have some important information for me, to enable me to better defend his country and his people, and that indeed, I have already discovered that the man who led the attack at Mouse was the brother of Captain Peron. We suspect he tried to slip past my ships the other evening, but he was foiled by Captain Stevens in his frigate, who had taken this ship’s place whilst we waited for the ship collecting the raiding party to return. It did not, because in my view Mr Minter there is a spy in our camp. Captain Peron, if indeed it was him, must have been informed of what happened and decided to try and slip past us and probably sink, or even take, my brig in retaliation. I intend to carry out some further enquiries into this, so, as you can see, I need to hold onto the prisoners.”
“Yes, I can see that sir, but whether the King will is another matter. I will however have further words with Prince Duma.” He sipped again at the claret and looked at Courtenay. “You were right Admiral, this is excellent. You really feel there is a spy in our camp?”
“There is no other explanation. Someone is getting messages through to these mercenaries, or ‘pirates’ as Captain Fenwick’s Sailing Master calls them. Tell me, is there any way that messages can be got out of Bimara?”
Minter pursed his lips. “It would take far too long by going through the jungle Admiral. There are the fisherman of course, but would they do something that might bring about the ruin of their country and their living?”
“Remember what I said about selling a mother and a grandmother Mr Minter? if the price is right, there is always someone who is willing to betray their country. You will forgive me if I say that in the future, I will not be informing anyone, anyone, of my squadron’s movements. That is the only effective way I can think of to ensure that these people do not receive any more messages telling them what we are doing. I hope you understand that Mr Minter?”
“Mr Spencer-White, as the Colonial Officer, will not like that Admiral!”
“Mr Minter, it is not for Mr Spencer-White to tell me what I can and cannot do. If he does not like it, he can go to hell!”
SEVEN
H.M. frigate Tiger made a fine sight as, in the morning sunlight, she set her sails and moved slowly away from the flagship Alexander her bows causing a slight white moustache as she worked up speed drawing out of the bay. As soon as she had clawed her way out more into open sea, her topmen were swarming aloft to release main and fores’ls and she then tacked to the south.
On her quarterdeck, her Captain, Harry Coles, looked up to ensure all sails were drawing to perfection, and nodded his satisfaction to his First-lieutenant and Sailing Master. “Excellent gentlemen. Keep her thus, eh?” Then he saw his Senior, a dapper Lieutenant named Daniel Piper stiffen and knew there was a visitor to the quarterdeck. He smiled and turned and saw his friend Giles Courtenay sniffing at the air and standing near the weather shrouds. He nodded and smiled. “Good morning sir. I hope your quarters are in order?”
Courtenay was no stranger to either frigates in general or to Tiger, as Harry Coles and his ship had been under his command for a while now in various parts of the world. He smiled in return. “Perfectly satisfactory Harry, thank you. Hopefully this little sortie will not inconvenience you too long and then you may return to being a private ship!”
Coles smiled broadly and automatically looked up at the foremast truck where Courtenay’s blue command flag was streaming out with the wind. “It is a pleasure to have you aboard again sir, and that is a fact!” He nodded as Justin Wetherby appeared and again as Alex Trafford came on deck and went to the lee side. He turned and saw his First-lieutenant’s eyes turn to look at the tough cox’n. Piper was relatively new to Tiger and was not therefore aware of the bond between his Admiral, whom he had only met for the first time when Courtenay came on board, and Trafford, and he had been at first startled, then curious, when he had heard them speaking together. It had been more like old friends than titled Vice-admiral and his cox’n. Piper sensed his Captain’s scrutiny and looked at him, raising one questioning eyebrow. Since he was a good officer, Harry Coles unbent a little.
“They have been together since ‘95 Mr Piper. They make a damn good team, and I will have none of this ‘a lower-deck man should not converse with his betters’ attitude aboard this ship’ when it comes to Alex Trafford. Is that clear? He is a friend to me also as I have known him a long time.”
Piper was a little startled, but nodded and managed a small smile. ‘Clear sir. It is just that….”
“Nothing Mr Piper, and if you saw Lady Courtenay aboard this ship, you would have some more surprises, I have seen her run up the side and through the entry port as she were one of us!”
“Then she sounds a lady to be reckoned with sir!”
“That she is, and there is one person in this neck of the woods who has reason to be nervous of her as well.”
“Really sir? May I ask who?”
Harry Coles smiled. “Yes, you may Mr Piper. It is no less a person than our so-called ‘Colonial Officer’. I understand that on two occasions in London she has pulled a pistol on the man!”
Piper took an involuntary step backwards. “The devil you say sir! Why on earth….?”
“Oh, I daresay one day you might find out, but from what I have heard, mostly from Trafford, both times were somewhat amusing in a way, unless of course your name happens to be Spencer-White, as I fear he would not see the comical side of it!”
He turned as Courtenay came over to him, and Piper touched his hat and moved away. “All sail set to the Royals sir. Good wind at the present.”
“Good, then hopefully we shall make a fast passage. It troubles me to be away from Balathia, but I must see this place Mondiana for myself, not that we wish them to know we are examining them of course!”
Coles tugged out his watch. “Justify should just about be at the post by now sir.”
“Knowing Commander Pountney, I am certain she will be Harry.”
At that moment, H.M. brig Justify was indeed coasting up to the spot where Jonathan Pountney had decided he would await the company he had been told to expect. In her orders taking her from her anchorage at the mouth of the River Bimara, Pountney had been told that Vice-admiral Courtenay had received a message from the post to say that Captain Horrocks was going to carry out an inspection of the security arrangements at the other diamond mine, the open-cast one at Gavouli, about twenty miles up-river. After that point, although up to there the river was navigable for craft up to the size of a frigate, it shallowed and only smaller craft such as their schooner and to some extent the brig, w
ould be able to proceed further. How far was one of the things Pountney knew his Admiral wanted the schooner to ascertain, but since the unprovoked attack on her she had been unable to fulfil the Admiral’s wishes.
The schooner itself was to be warped to the docking facilities the King owned, where she would be beached on a shallow beach, careened and her shot-holes properly repaired. Pountney idly wondered who would be given the command once she was deemed seawort6hy again. He looked down the maindeck slightly below him and saw his First, and only, Lieutenant, supervising the work being carried out. He wondered for a short moment if the Admiral would use his patronage, which was his to use as he saw fit, and appoint his son Edward into the schooner. Edward Courtenay had proved himself a good companion as well as an able officer, popular with his men, and he would, in Pountney’s admitted limited experience, make a very good commander of a small ship such as Dolphin. He would miss young Edward if that happened, but then he smiled as he realised Courtenay senior was not the sort of man to do that! He would never allow nepotism to influence who he should appoint a ship under his command.
He walked to the rail and looked down at Courtenay. “Our orders said we were to meet up with that armed lugger of the King and escort her to Gavouli, did they not Mr Courtenay?”
“They did indeed sir. However, there is no sign of Tabara nor indeed Captain Horrocks.” He paused. “Orders sir?” He saw Jonathan Pountney open his glass and point it at the shore, then close it with a snap.
“Damme sir.” spluttered Pountney. “I am not going to sit around here when we have a patrol up-river to carry out. Take a boat Mr Courtenay and see if you can ascertain what is happening? Go ashore and ask some questions, if you please.”
“Aye aye sir”
A boat was lowered in minutes and Courtenay tumbled into it with the crew, who immediately pushed away from the brig’s side and pulled for the jetty that jutted from the post. As the men were pulling at their oars, Courtenay saw a man come down the road from the stockade and stroll onto the jetty, hands thrust into the pockets of his breeches. As the boat grew closer, he saw the man wore clothing that in his view were unsuitable for a tropical climate, and he also saw something else the man was wearing. A supercilious look on his pale face. He smiled inwardly because he knew who this was, although he had never met him, at least not as a King’s Officer. The boat pulled against the piles and Courtenay ran up the steps to the top.
Courtenay and the Mercenaries Page 11