Alexander Kent - Command a King`s Ship

But he must not think of his friend. The best and firmest one he had ever had. He was his first lieutenant, the most competent officer in the ship. Nothing more counted. It must not.

He continued, 'Mr. Herrick will command the schooner.'

Herrick nodded, his face expressionless. 'Aye, sir. I'll take six good hands. Should be enough.'

Bolitho held his gaze, the rest of the officers fading around him as he said, 'I will leave it to you. If Potter wishes to join with you, then take him.' He saw Whitmarsh rising to protest and added harshly, 'He knows the channel. We need all we can get.'

The door opened slightly and Carwithen thrust his head into the lantern light.

'Beg pardon, sir, but the water casks 'ave been stowed, an' a message 'as been sent to say that the schooner is fully loaded.'

His gaze shifted to Fowlar, but there was no recognition. Fowlar's first step to promotion had already marked them apart, although it was possible they had never had much in common, Bolitho thought.

'Very well.' Bolitho waited for the door to close. 'Carry on, gentlemen. You '-all have your duties to attend.' He faltered, wondering why there were never the right-words when you needed them most. 'We will have little time for discussion until this matter is settled.' Or we are all dead. 'Remember this, and remember it well. Our people will be looking to you, more than they, or you ever expected. Most of them have never been in a real sea fight, and when we last met with Argus many still believed we had won a battle rather than secured a retreat. This time there can be no retreat, for us, or the enemy. Le Chaumareys is a fine captain, probably the best ever produced by France. But he has one weakness.' He smiled gravely. 'One which we have not yet enjoyed. That of supreme confidence in his ship and himself. His belief, and your skill and determination will win the day for us if anything can.'

They stood up, silent and grim-faced, as if only just aware _ of their responsibilities. The finality of their position.

Then as they moved towards the door Bolitho said, 'A moment, Mr. Herrick.'

Alone together in the gently pitching cabin, Bolitho said, 'I had no choice.'

'I would have been dismayed, had you selected a junior, sir.' Herrick smiled. 'So there's an end to it.'

Bolitho held out his hand. 'May God protect you, Thomas. If I have misjudged this affair, or the enemy outwits us, then pull back at once. If I signal a recall, then abandon your attempt. If die we must, then I want you with me.'

Herrick gripped his hand tightly, his blue eyes suddenly concerned.

'Enough of this talk, sir! It is not like you. Win we must, and here's my hand on it!'

Bolitho followed him towards the door. Hating the moment. Conscious of the weight which he had caused to fall on his own shoulders. She had seen his danger, as had Le Chaumareys. Perhaps Herrick also.

On deck, in the noise and bustle of preparing for sea, the contact was at last broken.

Herrick said, 'I'll go and pick my hands, sir.'

Bolitho nodded, his heart aching. 'Carry on, Mr. Herrick. The second lieutenant will relieve you forthwith.'

As Herrick melted into the shadows Davy crossed the quarterdeck and touched his hat.

Bolitho said, 'I am sorry about your schooner. I seem to have little choice in anything at the moment.'

Davy shrugged. 'It does not seem to matter any more, sir. For once, I cannot see further than the next few days, nor care either.'

Bolitho seized his arm savagely and swung him round. 'Has nothing I said to you made any sense?'

Davy struggled in his fierce grip and blurted out, 'I-I am sorry, sir!'

'You will be if I hear you talking like that again! Your responsibility is to me, the ship and the people you command. Not to your own personal considerations. When a man starts to believe there are no more tomorrows, he is as good as sewn up in a hammock between two round-shot. Think of the tomorrows, believe in them, and the men who depend on your skill, or lack of it, will see their own survival on your face!' He relaxed his hold and added in a steadier tone, 'Now be off with you.'

He began to pace along the larboard side, his feet stepping automatically over ringbolts and gun tackles, although his eyes saw none of them. He had not been reprimanding Davy, but himself. It was no time for doubt or recrimination, but only for living the role he had adopted, had earned in a dozen battles or more.

'Boat ahoyl' The challenge rang out from the gangway where lanterns glinted_on-levelled-muskets-and bayonets.

From the bay itself came the reply, 'Don Luis Puigserver wishes to come aboard!'

Davy came hurrying aft. 'Is that in order, sir?'

Bolitho smiled, calm again. 'I was expecting him, I believe.' The stocky figure rose through the port and hurried across

the deck to greet him.

Puigserver said, 'I had to come, Capitan. Nervion's loss made me a part of this. I cannot withdraw until the matter is settled.' He patted the ornate pistols beneath his coat. 'And I am an excellent shot, no?'

'I could order you to leave, senor.'

'But?' Puigserver tilted his head to one side. 'But you will not. In any case, I have left written word to explain my deeds and my reasons. If we survive the battle, I will tear it to pieces. If not…' He left the rest unsaid.

'Then I accept your offer, senor. With gratitude.'

Puigserver walked to the nettings and stared across at a glittering riding-light. 'When will the schooner set sail?'

'Before dawn. She will need all the time available to work into her position to best advantage.'

Again the ache. The thought of Herrick sailing his floating magazine into the muzzles of Muljadi's battery.

'I see.' Puigserver yawned. 'Then I think I will join your offwatch officers for a glass in the wardroom. You will need your solitude tonight, I am thinking.'

Some hours later Bolitho was awakened by Allday's hand on his shoulder. He had fallen asleep in the cabin, his head on his forearm across the chart where he had been working.

Allday watched him anxiously. 'Schooner's weighed, Captain.'

Bolitho rubbed his eyes. Was it almost dawn? He felt suddenly chilled. Desperate for sleep.

Aliday added quietly, 'Mister Pigsliver's gone, too.'

Bolitho stared at him, wondering if he had expected this. Had known it was what Puigserver had wanted from the moment he had outlined his plan.

'Is she well clear?'

'Aye, Captain.' Allday stretched and yawned. 'Stood round the headland half an hour back.' He added slowly, 'He'll be good company for Mr. Herrick, and that's no error.'

Bolitho looked at him. 'You knew, didn't you?'

'Aye, Captain.' Allday watched him sadly. 'I thought it for the best.'

Bolitho nodded. 'I expect it is.' He walked to the windows as if to see the riding-light still twinkling above the water. 'It is a bad thing to be alone.'

Aliday glanced at the tarnished sword which hung from the bulkhead. For a moment he thought about Bolitho's other coxswain, who had died protecting his back from French marksmen at the Saintes. They had come a long way together since those times, he thought. Soon now, it might all end. He looked at Bolitho's shoulders as he peered through the stern windows.

But you will never be alone, Captain. Not while I've a breath left.

Bolitho rested his hands on the quarterdeck rail and peered searchingly along his command. In the darkness the decks and gangways made a pale outline against the sea beyond the bows, and only the irregular drift of spray, the swirling white arrowhead from the stem gave any true hint of their progress.

He restrained himself from going aft again to examine his watch by the shaded compass light. Nothing had changed since his last inspection, and he was well aware of the danger of adding to the tension around him.