Alexander Kent - Command a King`s Ship

Bolitho looked at him impassively. 'Why do you?'

Maurin shrugged. 'I obey orders. But soon I will be going 'ome again. To Toulon. I 'ave not seen my family for…' He smiled sadly. 'Too long.'

Bolitho glanced across the lieutenant's shoulder and studied the grim fortress which was slipping past the port beam. It was still difficult to see the extent of its buildings. A high wall, undulating with the edge of the clifftop. The spaced windows were little more than black slits, like mournful eyes, while above, on the weatherworn battlements, he could see the muzzles of several large guns, just visible through their individual embrasures.

Maurin said, 'A foul place, is it not? But they are not like us. They live like crabs in the rocks.' He sounded contemptuous.

Bolitho saw several small boats bobbing at anchor, and a schooner similar to the one they had captured moored to a stone pier.

Maurin did not try to stop him looking at everything, to prevent his interest in the many figures which moved about the pier and up the sloping track to the fortress gates. Bolitho decided he was being brought by the main channel by careful design. So that he should see the growing strength of Muljadi's private army. And it was impressive. To think that a pirate, an alien to the Indies, could muster this force, and instil such discipline, was enough to impress anyone. Even a pompous fool like Major Jardine.

He turned as the boat's crew began to shorten sail, and saw the anchored frigate lying directly across the bows. Close to in a confined space she seemed even larger. Far bigger than Undine. Even his last command would have been reckless to match her deadly broadside of eighteen-pounders.

He remarked, 'A fine ship.'

Maurin nodded. 'The best. We 'ave been together for so long, we even think alike!',

Bolitho saw the activity around the entry port, the gleam of sunlight on fixed bayonets where a guard awaited his arrival.

A very carefully staged performance, he thought. He noticed that boarding nets were furled along the gangways where they could be spread without delay. Fear of a cutting-out attack? More likely he was taking no chances with his new 'ally'. It was the only promising thing Bolitho had seen so far.

A small fishing dory drifted abeam, and he saw some natives standing in it shaking their fists at him and baring their teeth like wild beasts.

Maurin said simply, 'They probably think you are a prisoner, eh?' It seemed to depress him.

Bolitho pushed him from his thoughts as the boat swung heavily towards the frigate's main chains. Capitaine Paul Le Chaumareys, a man about whom many tales had been told. Battles won, convoys harried and settlements destroyed. His record in the war had been formidable, just as Conway had described. But as an individual he was a mystery, mostly because he had spent much of his service far away from his own beloved France.

He ran his eyes the full length of the ship's side. Argus, the hundred-eyed messenger of Hera. Very appropriate for a man as elusive as Le Chaumareys, he thought. Sturdily built, and showing the scars and blemishes of hard service, she was a ship he would have been proud to command. She lacked Undine's grace, but had a heavier toughness which could not be ignored.

The boat had made fast to the chains, and the crew stood grouped by the mast as Bolitho climbed up to the gunwale. Nobody attempted to assist him. Then, a young seaman jumped down from the chains and held out his hand.

'M'sieu!' He grinned broadly. 'A votre service!'

Bolitho seized his wrist and levered himself towards the entry port. The French seaman could have been one of his own.

He removed his hat to the broad quarterdeck, and waited while the calls shrilled a salute and a guard presented muskets. Not crisply like Bellairs' marines would have done, but with a familiar jauntiness. Of long practice. Like the upper deck itself, he thought. Not dirty, but not gleaming and in perfect order either. Well used. Ready for anything.

'Ah, Capitaine!' Le Chaumareys stepped forward to greet him, his eyes fixed on Bolitho's face.

He was quite unlike anyone he had expected. Older. A good deal so. Perhaps in his middle forties. And one of the largest men he had ever met. Taller than six feet, with shoulders so broad that his bared head seemed tiny by comparison, especially as he wore his hair very short, like a convict.

'I welcome you to my ship.' He waved his hand around the deck. 'To my world, as it has been for so long.' He smiled, the effect lighting up his face in an instant. 'So come below to the cabin.'He nodded to Maurin. 'I will call for you when it is time.'

Bolitho followed him to the cabin hatch, seeing the eyes watching from both deck and gangways, the way they studied his every move, as if to discover something.

Le Chaumareys said casually, 'I hope Maurin took good care of you?'

'Very, thank you. His English is excellent.'

'Yes. One of the reasons I chose him for my ship. He is married to an Englishwoman.' He chuckled. 'You, of course, are not married. So why not a French bride for you, eh?'

He threw open the door and watched Bolitho's reactions. The cabin was large and well furnished, and like the rest of the ship, vaguely untidy. Lived in.

But Bolitho's attention was immediately drawn to a table which was laden with food.

Le Chaumareys remarked, 'Much of it is locally obtained.' He jabbed a large joint with his finger. 'Like this. It is very much the same as smoked ham. You must eat your fill, while you can, eh?' He chuckled, the sound rising from what Bolitho now saw to be a large belly.

He replied, 'I am here to present

The other captain wagged a finger. 'You are aboard a French ship, m'sieu. First we drink.'

He shouted a brief command and a servant hurried from the adjoining cabin with a tall crystal jug of wine. It was extremely good, as cool as spring water. Bolitho glanced from the jug to the table. Genuine? Or was it one more trick to show they were superior, even in their supplies and comforts?

A chair was brought for him, and when he was seated Le Chaumareys seemed to relax.

He said, 'I have heard of you, Bolitho. You had a fine record in the war for one so junior.' His eyes did not flicker as he added, 'It was difficult for you. The unfortunate affair of your brother.'

Bolitho watched him calmly. Le Chaumareys was a man he could understand. Like a duellist. Relaxed one moment, making a thrust the next.

He said, 'Thank you for your concern.'

The small head bobbed back and forth. 'You should have been in these waters during the war. Independence, an ability to work beyond the reach of some admiral, eh? I think it would have fitted you well.'

Bolitho felt the servant refilling his glass. 'I have come to speak with Muljadi.'

He tightened his grip on the glass. It had come out just like that, as if the words had been lying in his mind for months instead of seconds.

Le Chaumareys stared at him with amazement. 'Are you insane? He would have you screaming for death in a moment, and I could not help you. No, m'sieu, it would be a lunatic thing even to think of.'

Bolitho said, 'Then I will return to my ship.'

'But what of your Admiral Conway? His despatches? Is there nothing from him for me?'

'It would be pointless now.' Bolitho watched him warily. 'Besides which, you are not here as a French captain, but as a subordinate to Muljadi's authority.'

Le Chaumareys took a deep swallow from his glass, his eyes slitted against the reflected sunlight from the windows.

He said abruptly, 'Listen to me. Curb your impatience. As I have had to do, when I was your age, eh?' He looked around the cabin. 'I have my instructions. I obey them, as you must yours. But I have served France well, and I am near finished in the Indies. Perhaps I made my services too valuable to be allowed home earlier, but that is as may be. I know these seas like my own face. During the war I had to live off the islands for food and shelter, for repairs, and to glean intelligence about your patrols and convoys. When I was told to continue in these same waters I resented it, but I suppose I was flattered also. I am still needed, eh? Not like many who fought so bravely and are now without bread.' He looked at Bolitho sharply and added, 'As in your country, too, no doubt?'