Alexander Kent - Command a King`s Ship

No thanks, no admiration for what Captain Bellairs and his marines had achieved in so short a time. Bolitho glanced through the window again. The encroaching brush and creeper cleared away, and corpses buried. The place used as a hospital had been cleaned and painted, and even Whitmarsh had been full of praise for their efforts.

Conway nodded. 'I will meet you here after sunset, Major.'

Bolitho waited until the two soldiers had left the room and then said, 'I am sorry about my outburst, sir. But I have had my bellyful of his kind.'

Conway grunted. 'Perhaps. But you will hold your tongue in future. If Jardine commanded only a handful of crippled beggars I would say the same. I need every man I can get.'

Raymond stood up and yawned. 'This damned heat. I think I'll take a nap before dinner.'

He, too, walked out. He did not look at Bolitho.

Conway said softly, 'He disliked your remark about bearing arms, you know.' He chuckled. 'His wife has been singing the praises of sea-officers in general during your absence, and you in particular.' He frowned. 'I seem to be plagued with those intent on disruption.'

'Is she well, sir?' He could not face him. 'I have not seen her since my return.'

'She's been assisting that sot of a surgeon with the sick and wounded.' His eyebrows mounted. 'Surprised? By God, Bolitho, you've much to learn about women!' He nodded sharply. 'But you'll see, all in good time.'

Bolitho recalled her refusal to help tend the injured aboard Undine after Puigserver had been carried aboard more dead than alive. And her reasons? He sighed. Perhaps Puigserver and Conway were both right. He had much to learn.

He replied, 'I will return to the ship, sir. There will be a lot to arrange.'

'Yes.' Conway watched him thoughtfully. 'And remember., When you meet Argus's captain, keep your personal feelings to yourself. He is doing his own work as best he can. You would do the same if so ordered. If Le Chaumareys is still in command, and not killed by one of your guns, he will be eager to meet you also. He is older than you, but I think you may have something in common.' His lines deepened as he added dryly, 'A disrespect for your superiors, if nothing else!'

Bolitho picked up his hat. You could never be sure about Conway. Where the warmth ended and the steel began.

Conway said, 'Please come ashore tonight and dine with the rest of…' he waved one hand around the room, '… the castaways.'

Bolitho recognised the dismissal and walked from the room.

Beyond the palisades the jungle was as thick and as overpowering as ever, and yet already the place felt familiar, lasting.

He found Allday lounging in the shade below the main entrance. He was watching some native women who were washing clothes in a large wooden trough. They were small and olive-skinned, and although well covered, displayed supple charm which Allday apparently admired greatly.

He straightened his back and said, 'All done, Captain?' He saw Bolitho's glance and nodded. 'Fair little wenches. We will have to watch our people, Captain.'

'Only the people?'

Allday grinned. 'Ah, well now…'

At that moment Bolitho saw the surgeon emerge from the makeshift hospital, wiping his hands on a rag and squinting into the slanting sunlight.

He saw Bolitho and nodded. 'Two of the men wounded in your battle can return to work, sir. Two more died, as you know, but the rest stand a good chance of survival.' He looked away. 'Until the next time.'

Bolitho considered his words. A total of twelve had died because of Argus. Despite the luck at there being few in comparison to the fierceness of the battle, it was too many. He sighed. Perhaps Herrick had got some more 'volunteers' from the other ships.

Whitmarsh said, 'Your coxswain did a good job, by the way. The boy should have died by rights.' He looked at Allday. 'Wasted. You should make something of your life.'

Bolitho said quietly, 'I am glad you thanked him for his efforts on Mr. Keen's behalf. But I am sure he will decide his own future.'

Allday could have been stone-deaf for all the notice he paid to their comments.

Whitmarsh said, 'Well, anyway, sir, I've cleaned up a bit here. Most of them will heal, although a few more will die before they reach Spain. Disease mostly, of course.'

'Of course?'

Whitmarsh looked him full in the eyes. 'Rotten with it. Just as they have given it to these poor ignorant savages, too. If any one of your sailors comes to me with that damned pox, I'll make him wish he'd never touched a woman in his life!'

'They are your sailors, too, Mr. Whitmarsh.'

Bolitho regarded him searchingly. Despite his usual attitude where naval matters were concerned, he looked a great deal better. Or perhaps there was little to drink here? Either way, he was nothing like the drunken hulk who had tumbled aboard in England.

'So there you are, Captain!'

He turned and saw her watching him from the entrance. She was almost covered by a white smock, and wore the same straw hat she had brought from Santa Cruz. Her eyes were in shadow, but there was no doubting the warmth of her smile.

He replied, 'I am grateful for what you have done, ma'am.'

Whitmarsh nodded. 'She is the one who took charge here. Organised the whole hospital from top to bottom.' His admiration was genuine.

She smiled at Allday and then slipped her hand through Bolitho's arm.

'I'll walk with you to the beach, if I may. It is so refreshing to have you back again.'

Bolitho could feel Whitmarsh and Allday watching them.

He said, 'You are looking, er, very well.'

Her hand tightened very slightly. 'Say Viola.'

He smiled. 'Viola.'

'Better.'

When she spoke again her voice was different. 'I saw your ship dropping anchor and was half mad with anxiety. I wanted James to take me out to her by boat. He refused. He would, Then I saw you with a telescope. It was like being there with you. And today I have spent a little time with Valentine.'

'Valentine?' Bolitho looked at her profile. 'Who is that?'

She laughed. 'Of course, you would never remember a thing like a mere name. Why, I am speaking of your Mr. Keen.' The mood changed again. 'The poor boy. He looks so ill, yet can speak of no one but you.' She gripped his arm hard. 'I am almost jealous!'

Bolitho looked past her to where the gig lay beached on the sand, the small breakers hissing and receding around it. The boat's crew were engaged in noisy conversation with some seamen from the brig, and it was plain they were describing what they still saw as their victory over the Argus and the schooners.

He smiled, despite his earlier bitterness and disappointment. Perhaps they were right. To remain alive under such circumstances could well be seen as a victory.

She was looking at him, standing slightly apart as if searching for something.

'You smile, Captain? At me? At my boldness perhaps?' He reached out and took her hand. 'Not that. Never.' She tossed her head. 'That is better, Captain.'

He heard Allday's shoes on the sand, the sudden silence from the gig.

'The name is Richard,' he said gravely.

Allday heard their combined laughter and felt suddenly worried. This was a danger he could recognise well enough, far better than his captain, he thought.

He removed his hat as Bolitho walked down the beach towards the gig, and heard him say, 'I will be ashore later, ma'am.' She held the hat brim to shade her eyes. 'Until then, Captain.' But Allday had seen the look on her face before it was hidden in shadow. That, too, was something he could recognise. He glanced quickly at the tower above the fort and took a deep breath. Squalls ahead, he decided, and not too far away. Bolitho looked at him. 'Well?'

Allday's face was rigid. 'So it would appear, Captain.'