Alexander Kent - In the King`s Name

Hotham said, “No signal, sir. Only the acknowledgment to mine.” He almost blushed. “Ours , sir!”

Adam levelled the glass but regretted it: in the short time since they had up-anchored, the bearing and distance had completely changed. The flagship now seemed bows-on, her masts in line and her figurehead unusually bright in the sunlight. Her pendant was still flying, but her ensign was obscured by the high poop. No boats alongside, and nobody on deck as Onward had passed. A ship already dead. He thought of the flag lieutenant. Finished .

He handed back the telescope and wondered why he had left his own in the great cabin beneath his feet. He glanced at the skylight, covered now by a heavy grating as a precaution while getting under way, in case something should fall from aloft. Easier than cutting new glass , he had heard Hall, the carpenter, remark.

But he was thinking of Tyacke. They had scarcely spoken since he had climbed aboard. There had been only a quick, firm handshake and an apology for his abrupt arrival, then he had made a point of going straight below where Morgan would make certain he was not disturbed. If that was possible in any man-of-war preparing for sea.

Adam knew it was why he had left the old telescope there. Tyacke was probably focusing it even now, watching the harbour opening out, headlands sliding aside for their departure.

Or looking astern at Medusa?

“Southwest-by-south, sir!” Julyan was by the compass box, his lips pursed in a silent whistle. “Full an’ bye!”

Adam looked up at the yards, braced hard round, sails firm but not flapping or losing the wind. The ship was performing well. The topmen or those on the lee gangway could be looking down at their own reflections by now. And unless … He felt his mouth soften into a smile. Unless was every captain’s sheet-anchor.

He thought again of Tyacke, when they had last spoken. The only other sound had been the first clink of the capstan.

“We’re going to New Haven.” He had paused, regarding Adam searchingly. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

Adam had answered, “I guessed.”

Tyacke had shaken his head. “There’s a hell of a lot of Sir Richard in you, Adam, and I’m bloody glad of it!” He had still been smiling when the cabin door had closed.

But what was Tyacke thinking now, alone with his memories? A born sailor, and an officer of distinction. The devil with half a face .

He turned as he heard Monteith’s voice, not for the first time since the capstan had been manned: “What d’ you mean, you didn’t understand? Are you so stupid? Do I have to say everything twice?”

Adam knew Vincent was watching. So much had happened. Men had died and he had blamed himself, but he was proud, too. Of them.

The responsibility is mine .

He looked toward the land again and did not need a glass to see that the two hills were beginning to overlap. Soon now they would alter course, and with the wind in their favour make more sail. A lot of the canvas was still new, untried. He had heard Julyan say, “That’ll shake the gum out of ‘em!”

He saw the surgeon by one of the guns, pausing to speak with Squire, gesturing at the headland. Different worlds, but they seemed firm friends now.

Three bells rang out from the forecastle as Onward altered course. One and a half hours exactly since the anchor had been secured to Squire’s satisfaction. Into the deeper, stronger swell of open water, with a temporary stand-easy as a hasty meal was arranged for most of the ship’s company, the welcome aroma of rum reaching even the great cabin when Adam quit the quarterdeck for the first time.

After the sun and reflected glare, the cabin seemed almost dark. But the grating had been removed from the skylight and Tyacke was sitting at the table, a folio of papers and an enlarged section of chart pressed under one elbow.

He seemed about to stand but changed his mind as the deck tilted suddenly, in time with the shudder from the rudder. “Getting lively, eh?”

Adam sat opposite him and heard the pantry door creak. Hugh Morgan was on his toes, as always. “I’ll get the t’gallants on her when I have more sea-room, sir.”

Tyacke made to lift his hand but put it back down immediately as some of his papers began to follow Onward ‘s motion. “No formality, Adam-not here, anyway.” His blue eyes moved briefly around the cabin, with an expression Adam could not determine. “I’m only a passenger this time. The admiral’s errand boy.” He had twisted round in his chair to look at the spray-dappled glass. “Nothing like it, is there?”

Adam noticed that the old telescope was wedged in the bench seat, within reach. He said quietly, “You could have stayed on deck with me,” and Tyacke shook his head, laughing.

“Not likely-it’s bad enough with one captain at a time. I should know!” He looked up as something fell on the deck overhead, and there was a shout, and the thud of bare feet as men ran to respond.

When he looked back at Adam he seemed calm, even relaxed. “As I’m sure you know, there is no love lost between Rear-Admiral Langley and Sir Duncan Ballantyne at New Haven. Your visit was overshadowed by that bloody business at the mission. But for your action, I don’t know how we would have found out the truth.”

He touched the papers. “The schooner you discovered and captured gave us a few clues. She was once a privateer, then she was taken by the French almost at the close of the war. Then sold, and bought by a yard in England. She ended up here in Africa. As a slaver.”

Adam remembered the hazardous passage in the Delfim . The warning maroon. He said, “New Haven is the key. Somebody must know.”

Tyacke smiled faintly, so that his scars seemed more livid. “The ‘carpet knight’?”

“We have no proof.”

Tyacke stretched his arms and some of his papers slid to the deck. “Then we’ll find some!” And for a second, Adam saw “the devil with half a face,” more feared than any other by the slavers. “Tomorrow, first thing, I want to go over the charts with you, and any one else you care to call. I have some ‘instructions’ from the admiral for Ballantyne.” He broke off just as abruptly, and gave Adam the piercing stare again. “What did you make of our honourable guest, by the way?”

Adam heard more running feet, then silence. Vincent could cope. Was probably enjoying it, in fact.

“I had the impression he had already made up his mind.”

Tyacke nodded slowly, his eyes steady. “As I said earlier, so like Sir Richard. And I agree.”

The pantry door opened an inch. “May I bring some wine, sir? Or a little something from the cask?”

Tyacke looked at his papers and shook his head. “Not for me. Later, mebbee.” He grinned. “If I’m asked, that is.” He looked over at Adam. “These are your quarters, after all.”

“Yours, too.” Adam gestured to the high-backed bergere. “I shall be there until we’re well clear of local craft.” He stood up; he had heard footsteps outside the screen door. “But now …”

There was a tap on the door.

“Midshipman of the watch, sir! ”

It was Napier, droplets of spray glittering on his sleeves. “First lieutenant’s respects, sir.” Their eyes met. “Requests permission to loose t’gallants?”

Adam saw Morgan bringing his hat. Tyacke was quite still, watching them.

He touched the boy’s arm. “How are you , David?” So formal. Withdrawn. How it had to be. “My compliments to the first lieutenant. I shall come now.”

But Napier had already hurried on ahead, having glimpsed something in the flag captain’s scarred face, and holding the knowledge to himself like a secret. Understanding and regret, a strange sadness.