Alexander Kent - THE INSHORE SQUADRON

Bolitho heard the Danish sea officers talking and laughing beyond the bulkhead, and guessed they were being traditionally entertained by Neale and some of his lieutenants. Governments could create war from almost anything. Sailors, meeting on their home ground, rarely fell out.

Browne glanced meaningly at Bolitho as Inskip re-read the letter with the broken seal.

Bolitho noticed that when seamen rushed across the deck above, or some heavy block and tackle fell on the planking, Inskip did not even blink. He was obviously a much travelled man, well used to ships of every sort.

Inskip was about fifty, he decided. Neatly but not flamboyantly dressed in a green coat and breeches of similar colour. His head was almost bald, the remaining hair and unfashionable queue hanging down his collar like a rope's end.

He looked up sharply. 'This is bad news, Admiral.' His voice was incisive, a bit like Beauchamp's. 'I thank God you managed to intercept it.'

'Luck, Sir.'

A small smile, pushing the years from the man's features. 'Where would we be without it?'

His companion said, 'You would have had a warmer reception, Admiral, had the brig Echo got here ahead of you.'

Inskip frowned at the interruption. 'I have made some progress with the Danish government. They do not wish to join with the Tsar of Russia's proposed alliance, but pressure is mounting. Your arrival may be timely. I thank God you had the good sense to come in a small ship-of-war and not a threedecker or something. It is a powder-keg here, although the Danes, being Danes, are trying to ignore it. I would love to return in happier times.'

Bolitho asked, 'Will you wish me to come ashore, sir?'

'Yes. I shall send word to you. The guard-boat will lead you to the advised anchorage.' He glanced quickly at the door. 'There is a French frigate in Copenhagen, so you must warn your people to avoid any contact with her.'

Bolitho looked at Browne. An added complication, and they had not yet begun.

Inskip tapped the letter. 'Now I have read this I think I understand the purpose of her presence. I was sent by His Majesty's Government with the intention of preventing Danish involvement. The French may be here to provoke the opposite. Your small inshore squadron would not stem the flood if the worst happened before we could muster a fleet. Even then, the Russians and the Swedes are said to have sixty line-of-battle ships between them, and the Danes another thirty in commission.'

Bolitho warmed to this nondescript man. He knew everything, even the size of his own small squadron. The fact he had brought Inskip some information he did not already have made him feel humble rather than superior.

Inskip stood up, waving Ozzard and a loaded tray aside as he said, 'Not just now, thank you. Clear heads are needed.' He smiled. 'So I suggest you order your captain to approach the anchorage. You have roused plenty of curiosity and speculation. To see you actually step ashore should add to the gossip, eh?' He picked up his hat and added, 'I am sorry you missed meeting with a fellow English traveller.'

Bolitho allowed Allday to buckle on his glittering presentation sword for this formal occasion, but saw the distaste in his eyes. 'Oh, who was that?'

'Rupert Seton. I understand he is the brother of your late wife?'

Bolitho stared at Allday, his mind suddenly frozen. He could see Seton as a young midshipman during the ill-fated attempt to retake Toulon for the French Royalists. A slightly built youth with a stutter. With a sister so beautiful that she was rarely absent from Bolitho's memory.

'He told me about the tragedy, of course.' Inskip was unaware of the havoc he had caused. 'A fine, intelligent young man he is, too. He has a good post with the Honourable East India Company. Where I should be if I had any sense. There are more kicks than guineas working for Mr Pitt's administration.'

Bolitho asked quietly, `You met him here, you say?'

`Yes. Taking passage for England. I told him to make haste, otherwise he'd still have been here. But the war could spread any day, and I'd not wish one of John Company's people to become interned!'

Bolitho said, 'Escort these gentlemen to Captain Neale, Mr Browne. My compliments to the captain, and tell him we are finished our business and ready to proceed.' He looked impassively at the two officials. 'I'm certain you'll wish to get ashore ahead of me?'

Inskip shook his hand warmly. 'We will meet again.' He dropped his voice. 'I am sorry if I have roused some painful memories. I meant it for the best.'

As the door closed behind Browne and the others Allday exclaimed brokenly, 'Oh, God damn it, sir! After all this time, it's not right, not fair!' He controlled his outburst and added, 'Shall I fetch Mr Pascoe, sir?'

Bolitho sat down and unbuckled the sword. 'No. But I would take it kindly if you would stay.' He looked up, his eyes pleading. 'Will it never end? I've acted foolishly, done things to shame my friends, hoping perhaps to find peace again!'

Allday crossed to the table and almost tore a goblet from Ozzard's hand.

'Here, drink this, sir, and damnation to the war, and all who fan its fires!'

Bolitho swallowed the brandy, almost choking on its fire.

He could see her framed in the church door, her hand on her brother's arm, just as Herrick's own bride had been led up to the altar.

Almost to himself he said, `Maybe it is as well we did not meet. Perhaps he blames me for Cheney's death. She was alone when she needed me. I was at sea. Sailors should never marry, Allday. It is a cruelty to those they leave behind.'

Allday jerked his head at Ozzard, who backed from the cabin as if mesmerized.

'To some, mebbe, sir. But not the special ones.'

Bolitho stood up and replaced the sword at his hip. 'And she was special.' He looked at Allday and gave a brief nod. 'Thank you. I am ready now.'

Allday watched him square his shoulders, then duck automatically beneath the deckhead beams as he strode towards the quarterdeck.

That was a bad one, Allday thought. Worse than for a long while. It was always there, hiding like a wild animal, ready to break cover and destroy.

He followed Bolitho into the keen air, watched with the same fascination as he shook hands with the two Danish officers before seeing them over the side into their boat. A smile to Neale, another handshake with the Danish water pilot who was to assist the master with the last part of the journey.

Pascoe passed him with a handful of seamen to prepare the frigate's boats for swaying out when required.

Again, Allday saw their quick exchange, like brothers, no words spoken or needed.

But for once Allday would have gladly done without the privilege of knowing and sharing this close relationship. He knew Bolitho too well to be deceived by his outward calm. It was not an easy secret to hold.

Being ashore in a beautiful city like Copenhagen was a strange experience for Bolitho. He would have liked to explore its squares, dominated by high green spires and impressive buildings which looked as if they had been there forever. And there were inviting little lanes which he saw from the window of a carriage sent by Inskip to collect him from the harbour.

Inskip, like the Danish authorities, wanted to know where a visiting British admiral was at all times of the day, and Bolitho wondered what the coachman would do if he suggested a different route.

As he had prepared to leave the ship for hiss first visit to Inskip's headquarters he had seen Neale and his officers studying the harbour, not least the French frigate which was anchored as far away as was prudently possible. The anchorage was crowded with Danish men-of-war, but in spite of their impressive size and numbers, the attention on the waterfront or the many small craft which plied back and forth was fixed on the two frigates. Separated by a stretch of water and a wary guardboat, they represented the war and all that went with it. The war, which if Russia had any say would engulf the Danes also.