Alexander Kent - Command a King`s Ship

The distant gunfire had stopped, but there had been at least a dozen shots. Sharp and loud, despite the range. Probably small pieces.

He swung the glass further to starboard, seeing the lowlying wedge of land reaching out to lie parallel with their slow approach. The eastern headland of Pendang Bay. There was no room for further doubt.

Something dark intruded into the lens, and he saw the brig tilting to the low breeze, her yards alive with tiny figures as she finished reefing. A huge Spanish flag had been hoisted to her peak, blinding white in the glare, and he found time to wonder how Rosalind's master was reacting to Puigserver's show of national pride.

Almost without intending to speak aloud he said, 'I wish the Don was here with us. I think combined thought and action may be called for.'

He heard Conway grunt. 'Unnecessary. Ours is the ship of war, Bolitho. I want no damned Spaniard under my feet today.'

Herrick asked quietly, 'What d'you make of it, sir?' Bolitho shook his head. 'An attack on the settlement maybe.

But I understand the place is well defended and-' Conway interrupted harshly, 'All this fuss over a few bloody savages!'

Herrick was standing beside Mudge and whispered, 'I expect that is what poor Captain Cook said!'

Bolitho turned sharply. 'If you've all nothing better to do than make stupid remarks…' He swung away and added, 'Two good leadsmen in the chains immediately. Begin sounding.' To Mudge he snapped, 'Let her fall off a point.'

The edge in his tone was having the right effect. Men who seconds earlier had been chatting and gossiping about what might be happening ashore were now silent and alert, standing to their guns, or grouped at halliards and braces for the next command.

The wheel creaked, the sound very loud in the sudden stillness, and the helmsman called, 'Nor'-east by north, sir!'

'Very well.'

Bolitho glanced at Conway's profile, the glassy intentness in his eye.

From forward came the leadsman's cry, 'No bottom, sir!'

Bolitho looked at Mudge, but the master's heavy face was expressionless. He probably thought it was a waste of time to take soundings. The chart, and all available information, told them the water was deep until the last cable or so. Or maybe he thought his captain was so nervous that he was afraid to leave anything to chance.

Another, single crack echoed out from the mist-shrouded coast and died away very gradually.

Bolitho tugged out his new watch and stared at it. At this speed it would take near on an hour to close the land. But it could not be helped.

'No bottom, sir!'

He said, 'Pass the word for Captain Bellairs. I'll want a full landing party. Tell Mr. Davy to prepare the boats for lowering once we have anchored. He will take charge of them.'

Conway said briefly, 'Good beach, I'm told. The settlement and fort are on a slope to the western side of the bay.'

Herrick strode aft and touched his hat. 'Shall I order the guns to load, sir? He sounded guarded.

'Not yet, Mr. Herrick.'

Bolitho trained his glass across the larboard bow. Settlement, fort, they could have been imagination. The blurred green outline of the land looked totally deserted.

He heard the marine sergeant bellowing orders, the stamp of boots as his men were divided and sub-divided in readiness to disembark. Bellairs was watching them from the starboard gangway, his face completely blank, but his eyes missing nothing.

'By the mark twenty!' The leadsman sounded triumphant.

Mudge nodded gloomily. 'About right. Twenty fathoms hereabouts.'

Some small birds darted across the sea's face and circled above the braced yards. Bolitho watched them, recalling the swifts flying about the grey stone house in Falmouth. It would be fine there today. Sunshine, bright colours. The hills dotted with sheep and cattle. The town itself busy with farmers and sailors, each depending on the other, as it had always been.

He saw Herrick nearby and said quietly, 'Forgive my anger ust now.'

Herrick smiled. 'No matter, sir. You were right. We have been caught unawares already on this venture. Trouble will not fade away merely because we turn our backs on it.'

'Rosalind's settin' 'er fores'l again, sir!'

They turned to watch as the brig dipped to the wind and gathered way.

Conway snarled, 'By God, the Don intends to lead us inshore, blast him!V

'It is his right, sir.' Bolitho trained his glass on the other vessel, seeing the busy figures above and below, the great slash of her ensign with its crowned shield bright in the sunlight. 'It is still the territory of the Spanish Royal Company until he says otherwise.'

Conway scowled. 'That is mere formality.' He stared hard at him. 'Fire a warning shot, Captain!'

Bolitho looked at Herrick. 'Pass the word forrard. One ball.

But mind it drops well clear of the brig.'

The leadsman called again, 'Deep eighteen!'

Bolitho shut his ears to the squeak of gun trucks as the fore, most twelve-pounder was run out. The gun captain was peering along the muzzle, and as the light touched him Bolitho saw that

one hand was a metal hook. Turpin.

Herrick shouted, 'Ready, sir!'

'As you will then.'

The gun crashed out, and seconds later a thin waterspout rose like a feather far beyond the brig's bowsprit.

Bolitho said, 'Well, atleasttheywill knowwe are coming, sir,' Conway snapped, 'Savages. I'll soon get to the bottom of this little matter.'

Bolitho sighed as the brig fell off slightly, her foresail already being brailed up in response to his rough signal. The thought of having a poorly armed brig lying between an enemy and his own artillery was a worry he could not afford. And she was aboard Rosalind, too.

He turned round sharply, angry with himself for allowing his thoughts to drift. Right now he needed-to be completely clear. His mind like steel.

'Mr. Mudge, d'you know much of this place, other than you have already told me?'

The master shrugged. 'Very few people 'ave seen inland, sir.

'Ead 'unters, warrin' tribes there are a'plenty, I'm told. But the natives are often sailors, pirates from the north of Borneo. Sea-Dyaks they calls 'em. Many a good ship 'as been overrun at anchor by them devils.' He shook his jowls. 'Then it's snip, snip with their long knives, an' poor Jack is no more!'

At that moment a seaman beside a six-pounder pointed aloft as the masthead pendant licked out with renewed energy.

Like a long, low curtain the sea mist began to move and shred itself, vanishing into the land, and laying bare endless stretches of beach, thick jungle, and finally the overlapping hills beyond.

Herrick lowered his telescope and exclaimed, 'And is that the settlement, sir?'

Bolitho steadied his own glass, not daring to look at Conway's face. What he had first taken to be a heap of lopped and piled trees was shaping itself into long, spiked palisades, supported and guarded at regular intervals by squat, timbered blockhouses. As the mist slipped away he saw what must be the governor's residence. It had to be, for it was the largest building in sight. Again, it was built entirely of timber, with an upper and lower rampart and one spindly watchtower in its Centre, above which the Spanish flag lifted occasionally in the sea breeze.

Conway said thickly, 'In God's name!' The words were,,rung from his throat.

BolithO watched the distant fort for some sign of life other than the flag. The place looked crude, but was well sited, easy to defend. There must be settlements like this all over the world, he thought. But what about before? Someone had first to wade ashore from a boat, or march through swamp and jungle to plant a flag. To claim the land for his own country. He had heard of islands in the Pacific which were regularly claimed and re-claimed by half a dozen nations, sometimes out of the genuine desire to colonise, but often merely because their ships paused there for no other reason than to find water and firewood.