Alexander Kent - The Only Victor

Gossage was not a very imaginative man but prided himself on Benbow, a ship which had been in almost continuous service for several years. Many of the seasoned hands and warrant officers had been in the ship since he had assumed command; it had been, if there was such a creature in the King's navy, a happy ship.

He glanced at the open skylight, and wondered what his rearadmiral's mood would be when he eventually came on deck. Ever since he had received news of his wife's death, Herrick had changed out of all recognition. Gossage was prudent enough not to mention certain things which his rearadmiral had overlooked, or more

likely forgotten. As flag captain he might easily have the blame laid at his own door, and this he intended to avoid at all costs. He was nearly forty and he had his sights set on a commodore's broad-pendant before another year had passed-the obvious step to flag rank which he cherished more than anything. RearAdmiral Herrick had always been a reasonable superior, ready to listen, or even to use an idea which Gossage had put forward. Some admirals would bite your head off for so doing, then present the idea as their own. But not Herrick.

Gossage bit his lip and remembered the terrible nights at sea when Herrick had been incapable of speaking with any coherence. A man who had always taken his drink in moderation, and who had been quick to come down hard on any officer who saw wine and spirits as a prop for his own weakness.

He took a glass from the rack and levelled it on the wavering column of ships. Deep-laden, they were barely making a few knots, and with the wind veering due north overnight it would be another day before they entered the Skagerrak. A rich convoy he thought grimly Two hundred troopers of the light brigade and their horses, foot guards and some Royal Marines with all the supplies, weapons and powder to sustain an army throughout a long siege. He turned away and felt his shoe squeak free of the melting tar. At this rate, the war would be over before they even reached Copenhagen.

He moved the glass slightly before the sunlight blinded him and made him blink the tears from his eye. He had seen Egret, the other escort, an elderly sixty-gun two-decker which had been brought out of retirement after many years as a receiving vessel. Then the sea-mist blotted her out again.

Relics, he thought with bitterness. Anything which would stay afloat long enough for Their Lordships' purposes.

At first light, the masthead lookout of one of the supply ships had sighted land far off on the starboard bow, a vague purple shadow which was soon hidden by the haze as the August sunshine changed the North Sea to an endless procession of undulating glass humps.

Lieutenant Gilbert Bowater climbed through the companion hatch and touched his hat vaguely.

"RearAdmiral Herrick is coming up, sir."

Even the piggy flag lieutenant had entered into a conspiracy with the other officers to keep out of Herrick's way, and avoid another blistering scene like the time recently when Herrick had berated a midshipman for laughing on watch.

The forenoon watchkeepers straightened their backs and a master's mate peered unnecessarily at the compass.

Gossage touched his hat. "Wind's still steady from the north, sir. The convoy's closed-up since dawn."

Herrick walked to the compass box and turned over the limp, damp pages of the log. His mouth and throat were raw, and when he turned towards the sun he felt his head throb without mercy.

Then he shaded his eyes and looked at the ships which they had escorted all the way from North Yarmouth. A meaningless task, a burden more than a duty.

Gossage watched him warily, as a post-boy will study a dangerous hound.

"I have put the boatswain's party to blacking-down, sir. She'll be smart enough when we enter harbour."

Herrick saw his flag lieutenant for the first time. "Nothing to do, Bowater?" Then he said, "Don't let these ships straggle like a flock of sheep, Captain Gossage. Signal Egret to come about and take charge of them." Once again, his anger overflowed like water across a dam. "You should not need to be told, man! "

Gossage flushed and saw some of the men by the wheel glance at one another. He replied, "There is a thick sea-mist, sir. It is difficult to maintain contact with her."

Herrick leaned against the nettings and said heavily, "It will take a month to repeat a signal along this line of grocery captains! " He swung round, his eyes red in the glare. "Fire a gun, sir! That will wake Egret from her dreams! "

Gossage flung over his shoulder, "Mr Piper! Call the gunner. Then have the larboard bowchaser cleared away! "

It all took time, and Herrick could feel the heat rising from the deck to match the raw thirst in his throat.

"Ready, sir! "

Herrick gave a sharp nod and winced as the pain jabbed through his skull. The gun recoiled on its tackles, the smoke barely moving in the humid air. Herrick listened to the echo of the shot going on and on as it ricochetted across each line of rollers. The supply ships continued on their haphazard course as if nothing had happened.

Herrick snapped, "A good man aloft, if you please. As soon as Egret is in sight I wish to know of it! "

Gossage said, "If we had retained our frigate-"

Herrick looked at him wearily. "But we did not. I did not. Admiral Gambier so ordered it once we had reached this far. The North Sea squadron is also with him by now." He waved one hand around him. "So there is only us, and this melancholy collection of patched-up hulks! "

A dull bang echoed over the ship and Gossage said, "Egret, sir. She'll soon harry them together! "

Herrick swallowed and tugged at his neckcloth. "Signal to Egret immediately. Close on the Flag."

"But, sir-" Gossage glanced at the others as if for support. "She will lose more time, and so shall we."

Herrick rubbed his eyes with his hands. He had not slept for so long that he could scarcely remember what it was like. Always he awoke with the nightmare which instantly froze into reality and left him helpless. Dulcie was dead. She would never be there to greet him again.

He said sharply, "Make the signal." He walked to the poop ladder and peered over the side. "That shot came from yonder, not from Egret." He was suddenly quite calm, as if he was somebody else. The air quivered again. "Hear it, Captain Gossage? What say you now?"

Gossage gave a slow nod. "My apologies, sir."

Herrick eyed him impassively. "You hear what you want to hear. It is nothing new."

Lieutenant Bowater murmured nervously, "The merchantmen are drawing into line, sir."

Herrick smiled bleakly. "Aye, they smell the danger."

Gossage felt that he was going mad. "But how can it be, sir?"

Herrick took Dulcie's telescope and levelled it carefully across the quarter as Egret's topsails appeared to float, unattached, above a bank of white mist. He said, "Perhaps Sir Richard was right after all. Maybe we were all too stupid, or too stricken to listen to him." He sounded detached, indifferent even, as a midshipman yelled, "

Egret's acknowledged, sir! "

Then he said, "The North Sea squadron is no longer on station." He trained the splendid telescope on the nearest merchantman. "But the convoy is still our responsibility He lowered it and added irritably "Signal Egret to make more sail, and take station ahead of the Flag." He watched as Bowater and the signals midshipman." called their numbers and sent the bright bunting soaring up the yards.

One hour, then two dragged past in the melting heat. A faulty challenge? An exchange between privateer and smuggler? Each was a possibility.

Herrick did not glance up as the masthead shouted, "Deck there! Land on the lee bow!"

Gossage remarked, "Another hour or so and we shall be in sight of the Skagerrak, sir." He was beginning to relax, but slowly. Herrick's unpredictable temper was having its effect.