Alexander Kent - Command a King`s Ship

And how they had worked. Perhaps, like himself, the rest of the company had needed it, if only to hold the memories at bay a little longer.

Small moments stood out when you least expected them.

Midshipman Penn crouching down as a gun recoiled inboard, wreathed in smoke, while its crew dashed forward again with sponge and rammer. A man had been hurled to the deck in a wave of flying splinters. Had lain there staring unwinkingly at jthe sky. Penn had reached out to touch him and had tried to ump away as the man had reached out to seize his wrist. He must have died at that very instant. Bolitho did not remember seeing the incident at the time, but it had lurked in wait within his mind. And Armitage leading his squad of boarders after Davy had fallen under those plunging blades. The clumsy, awkward midshipman, blind with terror, yet gathering his few reserves of strength only to find they were not enough.

And after the battle, the smells and the sounds, not least the surgeon fighting-drunk and being dragged bodily to his sickbay by three of his men.

When the wild cheering had given way to the realisation of victory, they had faced up to their own immediate situation. Wounded to be tended, the dead to be buried, and the work begun without delay.

Looking back, it was surprising they had reached Pendang Bay at all, Bolitho thought. Fore and main lower yards badly sprung, the mainmast itself so splintered and pitted that it was only quick work on stays and rigging which kept it upright, the tasks had seemed unending. More than a dozen holes below the waterline had kept the hands working at the pumps through every watch, as with the battered Argus in tow they had crawled painfully towards the land and safety. The captured frigate had already sailed under jury-rig for a yard in India where she would be quickly refitted and included in the Company's own private fleet.

Herrick asked, 'Any further instructions, sir?'

Bolitho reached for a bottle of wine. 'It is confirmed that Pendang Bay will be exchanged for another station now held by the Dutch East India Company.' He looked up, seeing the astonishment in Herrick's eyes. 'Now that we have established the settlement, the Dutch are more than willing to make the exchange, apparently.'

He recalled with sudden clarity Rear Admiral Conway's face when the first despatch had been opened. Brought from Madras by Raymond himself.

He had said hoarsely, 'So it was all for nothing?'

Raymond had looked away. 'No, sir. The other settlement in the north is far more suitable to our requirements. Sir Montagu Strang has explained. You will see that your part in all this is highly thought of.'

Later, when Raymond had left the room, Conway had said,

'Highly thought of. But a new governor will be appointed.' Bolitho, had replied, 'I am sorry, sir. It is a bitter victory.' 'Bitter?' Surprisingly, he had laughed. 'This sort of work is

more for shopkeepers than sailors, Bolitho. Remember that well.' He pushed a goblet across the table and realised that Herrick

was still awaiting an answer.

'Once our replacements have been signed on, we will maintain a local patrol until ordered otherwise.' He smiled gravely. 'I am temporarily the senior officer in these waters. Not too surprising, since Undine is the only King's ship!'

Herrick grinned. 'And well earned, sir. When I realised how you had put yourself inside the French captain's mind, I '

Bolitho looked away. 'If the wind had dropped, Thomas, you might think differently.'

'Lady Luck, sir?' The grin was broader.

There was a tap at the door and Penn stepped into the cabin. 'Mr. Davy's respects, sir. The Indiaman has just weighed. He said you wished to be told, sir.'

'Thank you.'

Bolitho waited for the door to close, his heart suddenly heavy. Even Penn had not helped. Keen now stood above as acting lieutenant, and Soames had replaced Davy. The same story. One dies, another profits.

Herrick said quietly, 'The Indiaman's sailing for Madras, sir. Our wounded will get better treatment there.'

Bolitho picked up his hat. 'We'll see her off.'

The sun across the quarterdeck was harsh enough, but in the steady offshore wind felt less severe as with Herrick he stood by the nettings to watch the deep-hulled Indiaman spreading her topsails, her paintwork and company flag very bright against the land.

Bolitho looked along Undine's deck and saw the hands pausing in their work to watch the big ship as she tilted to the pressure, her hull shining while she continued to tack clear of the anchorage. Thinking of home perhaps, where the Indiaman would eventually make her landfall. Or of old friends lying bandaged within her fat hull, and of the others who were not here to see anything at all.

Bolitho beckoned to Penn. 'Your glass, if you please.'

Only once had he been able to see Viola Raymond alone since Undine's return. Because of Raymond, or because she understood better than he that it was pointless to add to the pain of parting, Bolitho was still not certain.

'A fine ship, sir.' Herrick, too, had a glass. 'To think my old father wished me to go to sea in an Indiaman. Things would have been very different, I suppose.'

Bolitho tensed,-seeing the pale green gown -on the ornate poop, that same wide hat she had brought from Santa Cruz. He could hear her words to him, as -if she had just spoken across the broad expanse of lively white-horses in the bay.

'If you come to London, please visit me. My husband has gained his promotion. What he wanted. What I thought -I wanted, too.' She had squeezed his hand. 'I hope you got what you wanted from me?'

A gun boomed dully from the settlement, and another from the Indiaman's forecastle. Flags dipped in mutual respect.

Bolitho felt the ache returning. She was right. There must be no pain, only understanding. Peace, as after a great gale of wind. Something which they had seized, if only for a moment.

He thought of Raymond, going to a better appointment, while Conway returned to obscurity. It was impossible to fathom.

While he was much as before, except for that one moment. Or was he? By trying to mould him as she would have wished her husband, perhaps she had indeed changed him.

Penn called, 'Signal, sir! From Wessex to Undine.' He was straining his eye to a telescope to watch the flags breaking from the Indiaman's yards as she laboriously spelled out her message. 'Good luck go with you.'

'Acknowledge.'

Bolitho kept his eye on the pale green figure. She was waving her hat slowly back and forth, her autumn hair blowing unrestricted to the wind.

Half to himself he said, 'And with you, my love.'

Some of the seamen were cheering and waving as the other vessel spread more canvas and heeled ponderously on a new tack.

Bolitho handed the telescope to a ship's boy and said, 'Well, Mr. Herrick?'

Herrick watched him and then nodded. 'Aye, sir. A glass of wine. I think we deserve it.'

Bolitho held on to the mood, keeping his eyes away from the Indiaman as she stood purposefully towards the headland. 'At least we have earned it.'

Allday watched them pass, seeing Bolitho's hand touch his side-pocket where he carried his watch. Just a brief gesture, but it told Aliday a great deal. He walked to the nettings and stared after the departing Indiaman.

Sail away, my lady. You have left your mark, and for the better. But a closer embrace? He sighed. Neither of them would have weathered it.

Keen joined him by the bulwark.

'She makes a goodly sight, eh, Allday?

Allday looked at him. 'Aye, sir.' You don't know the half of it. 'But a bit too good for a poor sailorman, sir.'

Keen walked away and began to pace the quarterdeck as he had watched Bolitho do a hundred times or more. He knew Allday was laughing at him, but did not care. He had been tested, and he had won through. That was more than he had dared to hope, and it was more than enough.