Courtenay and the Mercenaries

by Brian Withecombe

  “In that case I will get the ship under way immediately sir, if that is in order.”

  “Of course.”

  Giles Courtenay was back aboard Alexander and looking over the chart of the area. He paused as there was the usual challenge for a boat nearing, and heard clearly the reply, “Justify!” which meant that Commander Jonathan Pountney was coming aboard to report. He had seen the brig anchored on her station at the head of the Bimara, and through a telescope had seen signs of some battle damage. He was wondering idly what possible battle she could have been in, but knew she had been on a patrol up-river, so lost no time in sending the usual signal for Pountney to come aboard. He was also hoping his son would be with him, but he knew also that Pountney might have decided to leave him in the brig as being the only other officer.

  He waited patiently whilst James Fenwick greeted Pountney, then there was the bellow from the Marine guard and he walked across the deck covering with hand outstretched in welcome as the door opened. Pountney smiled and shook hands, and the first thing he said took Courtenay by surprise. “I crave your forgiveness for not allowing Edward to come with me sir, but the fact of the matter is we have had a little skirmish, and there are still repairs that needed completion. As the only other officer….”

  Courtenay smiled and gestured to a chair. “No need to apologise Commander. I understand. There will be other times. Now then, a glass of claret and then you may tell me what you have been getting up to!”

  When Pountney had finished, Courtenay thought for a moment then nodded., “You did well Commander. All your lads did, and well done for realising it was a possible trap. I gather young Edward escaped any harm?”

  “Perfectly fine sir.”

  “It is however obvious this was another attempt to destabilise the King’s grip on his country, in other words by making it clear those who are against him can steal one of his ships and a valuable cargo of diamond ore at the same time.” Courtenay was pacing the cabin, finger rubbing his scar. “You have a prisoner you said?”

  “Yes sir. He was clearly the man who was in command of the attack. He has refused to say anything to me, and as Captain Horrocks has made clear, he will have to be surrendered to the King, but I did not wish to do that before you had spoken to him. He is in the boat sir.”

  Courtenay smiled. “Good. James? Have him brought here if you please.”

  The man taken prisoner was brought into the cabin, in chains, between two Royal Marines. As Pountney had described him, the man was certainly African, tall and good-looking with something of an aloof expression. He stood, still and dignified, as Courtenay stepped in front of him and looked him square in the eyes. The African looked back, meeting eye to eye, but instantly saw those very dark, almost black eyes that seemed to bore into his skull and was momentarily concerned.

  “Do you have a name?” asked Courtenay in a reasonable tone.

  “I am known as Busar.”

  “You speak English then. When did you learn our language?”

  “There have been many missionaries and I judged it appropriate to learn the language of our enemies.”

  “Why do you consider us to be your enemies? We have done nothing, as far as I am aware, to make you feel that way?”

  “No? What about English slavers?”

  “They are breaking the law, and when caught they will suffer the consequences. There are bad men in all countries Busar.”

  “You are taking the side of the usurper Khalfani.”

  “Balathia is a protectorate of Great Britain and he is the King. Why do you call him a usurper?”

  “He is not the true King.”

  “Why not?”

  “It is not for me to say. I was caught trying to steal one of his ships, and a cargo of diamonds. I assume you will hand me to him?”

  “You also set a trap to catch one of my ships, but yes, regrettably I will have to hand you to the King. I have no choice.”

  “Then I will die, probably slowly and in a lot of pain, but I will do so in the knowledge I have done my best for my master.”

  “And who is your master Busar?”

  But the man said nothing more and refused to answer any further questions. He was taken away and Pountney made his excuses and left to return to his ship. He had hardly left when Irvine came aft to report that Captain Horrocks and Peter Minter were approaching. Courtenay sighed and said to Fenwick. “Bring them aft when they are aboard James.”

  Fenwick smiled briefly. He knew Courtenay wanted to have some time to give thought to what the tall African had told him.

  “So you have been to Mondiana sir?” said Minter, once Courtenay had told him and Horrocks what he had been doing since sailing off in Tiger. You saw the Spanish frigate?”

  “Yes. And we found the corvette.”

  Horrocks jerked forward. “The devil you say. Where was she?”

  “Not far away. Now then, we had a good look at Mondiana’s defences, but we cannot simply go barging in. This is a country we are certainly not at war with, and neither is she harbouring an enemy ship…technically at least. Who do we know runs the country?”

  Minter said straightaway, “Well, the King is elderly and leaves all the administration to his son, but oddly enough, he is very friendly with Abdalla, King Khalfani’s….”

  “Cousin?” put in Wetherby.

  “Yes Mr Wetherby, the King’s cousin.”

  Courtenay was on his feet again, pacing the cabin, finger rubbing the scar. “So we have the former Spanish frigate commanded by the mercenary Peron at anchor off the town, with the ex-French corvette not that far away. Both have been involved in attacks on Balathia, and now we have this latest attempt to undermine the King. What are the chances, Mr Minter, of the two ships being in the pay of this man Abdalla, who is receiving assistance from Mondiana’s rulers?”

  “I suppose it is possible sir. Abdalla has been saying for some time that he is the rightful King of Balathia, and it is a rich enough country, with our help of course, so it would be more than worthwhile for him to try and take it for himself. Of course, he would not have our help any more, but there are plenty of other countries who would be only too willing to step in where we have finished.”

  “Very well, .gentlemen, in that case what I have to do now is to decide what course of action I should adopt to remove the threat.”

  Horrocks expressed surprise. “With respect Admiral, I would have thought your course was clear. You need to remove the threat of those ships, surely?”

  “Yes Captain, I agree, but there is little point, when killing a snake, to cut off its tail. One needs to sever the head, would you not agree? And before I can sever this particular head, I need far more evidence linking Mondiana with the attacks on Balathia. Thank you for visiting gentlemen. Oh, Mr Minter, did Mr Spencer-White not wish to accompany you?”

  Minter smiled. “He said he has seen many Navy ships and he does not need to see any more. He is quite happy to leave the hard work to me sir.”

  “I see. Well, I suppose one day I shall have to pay a visit to him, as he is supposed to be the Colonial Officer and he will, I am sure, wish to see my report.”

  “Yes, I suppose so sir.” He paused and Courtenay knew what was coming. “I have to take the prisoner sir. I know the circumstances in which he was captured, but he was caught in the act for stealing one of the King’s ships and also a valuable cargo. The King is insisting that I take him to the Palace.”

  “Yes, I suppose on this occasion I have no alternative. I presume the man will not survive for long?”

  Horrocks smiled grimly. “Stealing one of the King’s ships and trying to steal diamonds? I doubt he will last a day once the King has him sir.”

  “Very well. You may take him with you Mr Minter.”

  “Thank you sir.”

  Later in the day, as Courtenay was trying to decide the best way to take the matter to the next stage, in other words linking the ruler of Mondiana with the attacks on Balathia, a boat was seen app
roaching with none other than Spencer-White in it. It was in fact one of the King’s specially oared boats, bedecked with colourful bunting and many flags and pennants. Fenwick greeted Spencer-White with as much grace as he could muster and brought him aft. James Fenwick and the Spencer-White family went back quite a way and in fact it had been Spencer-White’s uncle, latterly Lord Cairns, who had suborned Fenwick to try and damage Courtenay’s reputation when he, Fenwick, had been appointed Second-lieutenant in the frigate Amazon . Fenwick’s mother had been married to Cairns and he had tried to make use of the connection to ruin Courtenay, but it had not worked. Instead, Fenwick had come to admire his then Captain and the two had since become firm friends and it had been Fenwick that Courtenay had entrusted his son Edward to when he had first obtained an appointment as a Midshipman. Fenwick’s mother had left Cairns and had taken up a teaching post not far from the Courtenay Devon home.

  “The Admiral is aft, Mr Spencer-White.” Fenwick said, almost between gritted teeth.

  “Very well, Fenwick, lead the way.” Spencer-White said grandly. Then he had almost to run to keep up with Fenwick as he hurried under the poop.

  “Well, Mr Spencer-White, what can we do for you?” asked Courtenay as the man dropped into one of the comfortable armchairs in the Cabin. Courtenay saw Kingston hovering near his pantry with a tray and gave an almost invisible shake of the head, Kingston smiled knowingly and disappeared. Trafford grinned and took up his usual position against one of the bulkheads, which Spencer-White noticed and was about to open his mouth and protest when he thought better of it.

  “You can do nothing for me, Court…my Lord, but the King wishes you to appear before him at your earliest convenience. As I understand it, he wishes you to tell him what progress you are making in this tiresome matter of the attacks on his country, especially in the light of the latest one. You are to come at once.”

  “What about, ‘at my earliest convenience?’” said Courtenay sarcastically. Trafford grinned even more broadly as Spencer-White squirmed in his chair.

  “Well, that is what the King means, in much the same way as when an Admiral signals a Captain to repair on board at his earliest convenience. He means ‘now’”

  “Well, why did you not say so in the first place, instead of wasting time here?”

  Spencer-White reddened. Despite tropical service, he had never really tanned and almost had a pale countenance. “The King’s boat is waiting for us.”

  “I would rather travel in my own barge. I will transfer to Justify for the remainder of the voyage. You go in the King’s boat and I shall follow. Will Mr Minter be present?” He just glanced at Trafford and he left the Cabin to get the barge over the side from the boat tier.

  “Why should he be there? I am the Colonial Officer, I would remind you.”

  “Yes, but he is the one who is doing all the work! Get a message to him that I wish him to be there as well.”

  “Very well. Shall we go?”

  The barge pulled into the shadows near the King’s private jetty, gently nudging next to the piles astern of the King’s boat which Spencer-White had travelled in. When Courtenay was striding up the jetty with Wetherby and Trafford close behind, he saw a flustered looking Peter Minter climbing off a horse. As they were treading the steps up to the doors of the Palace, Minter caught up with him and nodded a greeting.

  “Thank you Admiral. I gather it was your order that has brought me here?”

  “You are the one doing all the work Peter, it was only right you should be here as well.” Minter smiled at the easy use of his first name and then they were being ushered into the waiting area outside the throne room. Wetherby fidgeted with his neckcloth and tugged his aguilette more into place, and Trafford smiled and took up station near the doors, knowing he would not be admitted into the throne room.

  “Our dear friend Lord Courtenay!” the King boomed as Courtenay was announced and strode across the polished tiled floor towards where the King and Queen were seated in their comfortable armchairs. King Khalfani rose with a broad smile and an outstretched hand. Courtenay gave a short bow and took the hand. “Please Lord Courtenay, be seated. We are most grateful that you have come so quickly. We did not expect this courtesy from such a busy and important man.”

  Courtenay looked at Spencer-White, who had been left standing. “The message I received said that you wish to me see me immediately your Majesty.”

  “Did it? I see. Well, you are here now. We wish to know what has been happening since we last spoke and especially about the most recent occurrence. Our friend Mr Minter has given us much assistance as he can, but if you will excuse the expression, it would be nice to hear it from the Lion’s mouth!”

  “Of course. The situation is this….” Courtenay went on to explain what his squadron had been doing. The King held up a hand.

  “The man you sent to me with Captain Horrocks has admitted he stole one of my ships and was going to steal some of our diamond ore, and that it was to undermine my authority to make it appear I could not look after my country and my people. He has been executed as a traitor. You say you have reason to believe my cousin Abdalla is behind all these attacks and I agree with you. He is an evil man, driven by spite and by a belief, which is totally wrong, that I am not the true King of Balathia. What do you intend now that you know one of these mercenaries is taking shelter in Mondiana, Lord Courtenay?”

  “Mondiana is well defended your Majesty and although I know I have the men and ships to attack the town and harbour, I need to have some proof that Abdalla and the ruler of Mondiana are plotting together to overthrow your rule before I can wage war on the country.”

  “Would you not agree that the fact Mondiana is harbouring one of these, these pirates is proof enough that it is in league with those seeking to take this country?”

  “The frigate Senorae de Fuentes is in the harbour flying the flag of Spain your Majesty. I cannot simply enter and attack her without proof that she is not truly a Spanish ship.”

  The King mused over that for a short while. “And what about the other ship, the blue what did you call it, a corvette?”

  “Well, we do know she has been involved in killing some of your people. She is hiding along Mondiana’s coastline and for all we know, with the blessing of its King and Abdalla.”

  The King smiled. “The man who really holds the reins of power in Mondiana is Solomon ‘the wise one’ The King is just a figurehead, as I think you say.. My cousin has always liked to think he could dabble in magic, but not the kind you might think of. He is more prone to believe the magic of witchdoctors. Witchdoctors! I had them banned from my country the moment I became King! He does, however, still believe in their so-called magic powers. What is your next move Lord Courtenay?”

  “For many reasons, I would not like to say at the present time your Majesty, because I believe firmly there is a spy in our camp, so as to speak.”

  “What! A spy? What makes you say that Lord Courtenay? Are you saying that one of my people is throwing their hand in with these people?”

  “I do believe there is someone here in your country who is discovering what our plans are and taking advantage of it. Take for instance the fact there was supposed to have been a ship collecting the survivors of that attempt to stop production of your mine. It never appeared, and why? Because someone told them the plan had failed and that those who were not killed were prisoner.”

  The King smiled and then laughed shortly. “Perhaps, my Lord, that was because they did not mind if their men were not collected. It would not be the first time that a party of men is sent on what turns out to be a suicide mission, would it?”

  “No, your Majesty, but Captain Peron, who commands the Spanish frigate, was the brother of the man who led the attack. I doubt he would have willingly sacrificed such a person?”

  The King smiled and nodded. “Yes, yes, I see that. You wish, as I believe the saying goes in England, to keep your cards close to your chest, yes? Very well, as long as you d
iscover who is behind these atrocities and put a stop to it, I will allow you to proceed as you see fit. Very well Lord Courtenay, it has been a very pleasant meeting with you and I wish you a safe trip back to your fine ship.”

  Courtenay rose and gave a short bow, then followed by Minter, Wetherby and Spencer-White, left the throne room. Outside, Spencer-White turned on Courtenay in fury.

  “Why are you not telling me what you are doing Courtenay? I am the Colonial Officer here and therefore you report to me dammit! I am your senior!”

  Wetherby butted in, suavely as ever. “You will address Lord Courtenay as ‘my Lord’ or ‘Admiral’, otherwise…”

  Spencer-White looked at him, almost in horror, at the implication. Wetherby’s face said nothing, but Spencer-White noticed he had a fine sword at his side, the kind a good swordsman would have, and shut his mouth with a snap.

  “I have not told you, or indeed anyone else, Spencer-White,” said Courtenay, flashing a smile at his Flag-lieutenant, ”because as I explained to the King, there is a spy among us. Why broadcast what we are going to do, only for our enemies to be forewarned? I shall continue to do whatever I decide is in our interests without reference to you or anyone else. You might be the senior ‘diplomat’ here, but I am the Senior Naval Officer, and it is to me, not you, that the Admiralty has entrusted my men and ships. Is that clear?”

  Spencer-White said nothing, but clattered down the steps out of the Palace. Trafford grunted. “I think you made it clear to ‘im sir.”

  Wetherby clapped Trafford on the shoulder. “I rather think you are right Trafford!”

  “Very well, gentlemen, let us return to Alexander.”

  Back in his flagship, Courtenay sat down with Fenwick and the chart of the immediate area down to Mondiana. “Very well James, this is what I intend. The King is certain in his own mind that the person who effectively runs Mondiana, one Solomon, is in league with Abdalla. Now whether that is right or not, I do not know, but what we do know is that blue corvette, Majestie, has played a part in what has been happening, so as a start, we will take her. I have not as yet decided the best way, but either we will cut her out with a night attack, or, as I once did in the Caribbean, force her out to fight by bombarding her position, leaving her Captain with the choice of either having his ship blown to pieces around him, or coming out to fight and hopefully slip past us.”