Alexander Kent - The Flag Captain

He said, “Then it would be better to admit you were wrong, sir.” He hardened his voice. “Before any more of our people are killed.”

Broughton snapped, “Easy, Bolitho! I’ll have no petty argument under my flag, dammit!”

“Then let me just say this, sir.” Bolitho kept his voice very even, although inwardly he could feel nothing but anger and despair. “Unless you put the squadron in such a position where we have more sea room to fight, you may be caught on a lee shore. With the prevailing nor’ westerly, and no space to regain an advantage, you will be in real danger should an enemy arrive here. In open sea we can still give the enemy a bloody nose, no matter what the odds prove to be.”

Broughton said, “Sir Hugo has already suggested a further plan.”

Draffen pushed himself away from the bulkhead. He was smiling, but his eyes were very cold.

“You have been too long on your feet, Bolitho. I am sorry I did not appreciate the fact earlier. This is my idea. It is only a framework, of course, but I am almost sure I can obtain the aid we now desperately need.”

Broughton said in a weary tone, “Sir Hugo’s agent can be contacted somewhere along the coast, it seems.”

“Exactly!” Draffen was relaxing very slowly. “I have had dealings with a powerful tribal leader. I have even met him on some occasions. Habib Messadi has much influence along these shores, and no love for the Spanish intruders!”

Bolitho replied quietly, “But we will be intruders if the Spanish garrison is made to go. Where is the difference?”

“Oh, in heaven’s name, Bolitho!” Broughton sounded angry. “Will nothing satisfy you?”

Bolitho kept his eyes on Draffen. “This Messadi is, I presume, an outlaw of some kind, otherwise how could he exert such power on a coastline like this?”

Draffen’s smile faded. “He is not the sort of man you would let loose in Westminster Abbey, I will allow you that.” He shrugged. “But to make this mission successful I would accept aid from Newgate or Bedlam if I thought it might help.”

“ Well, Bolitho?” Broughton was looking from one to the other with obvious impatience.

But Draffen spoke first. “As I said to you earlier, one day Djafou will be discarded by us for something better. Like the proposal you have just made to Sir Lucius. Messadi controlled Djafou for many years and has no love for the French or the Dons. Surely it would be better to keep him as an ally, some additional thorn to prod the enemy’s side?”

Broughton snapped, “I agree.”

Bolitho turned away. Without effort he could see the yelling figures swarming across the Navarra ’s bloodied decks, the terror on the crew’s faces when the chebecks had been sighted. And now Broughton was about to take such people as allies, merely because he could not accept the prospect of returning empty-handed to Gibraltar.

He said, “I am against it.”

Broughton sat down heavily. “I have great respect for your past record, Bolitho. I know you to be a loyal officer, but I also realise you are often plagued by too much idealism. There is no officer in the squadron I would rather have as my flag captain.” His tone hardened. “But I will suffer no insubordination. And if necessary I will have you removed.”

Bolitho felt the sense of helplessness returning, the contest of desires pulling at him like claws. He wanted to throw the words back in Broughton’s face, yet could not endure the prospect of Furneaux in control of the squadron’s small resources.

He heard himself say tightly, “It is my duty to advise you, sir, as well as obey orders.”

Draffen beamed. “There you are, gentlemen! We are agreed at last!”

Bolitho looked at him bitterly. “What do you intend?”

“With Sir Lucius’s permission I will make use of the sloop again. I have no doubt my agent will be expecting some sort of news from me, so the rest should be made easier for us.” He looked shrewdly at Bolitho’s grave features. “As you have said yourself, the squadron is better fitted for fighting in open waters than exposing itself to unnecessary risk inshore. I will need no more than two days, and by that time we should be ready for a final and conclusive assault.” He smiled, and Bolitho saw a new light in his eyes. For a few seconds his expression was one of complete cruelty. “A flag of truce to the garrison, an explanation of what will assuredly happen if Messadi’s men take the fortress, to the defenders and their womenfolk…” He said no more.

Broughton muttered, “For God’s sake, Sir Hugo, it won’t come to that surely?”

“Of course not, Sir Lucius.” Draffen was openly cheerful again.

Broughton seemed suddenly eager to finish the conference. “Signal the Restless, Bolitho. Coquette can take over watch on the bay.”

As he left the cabin Draffen followed him, his voice almost gentle as he murmured, “Do not take it so seriously, Captain. I have never doubted your qualities as a sea officer. So you must trust my ability in these matters, eh?”

Bolitho paused and looked at him. “If you mean I am no match for your politics, Sir Hugo, then you are right I want no part of them, ever!”

Draffen’s face hardened. “Do not overreach yourself, my friend. You may attain high command in the Navy one day, provided…” The word hung in the air.

“Provided I hold my tongue?”

Draffen swung towards him angrily. “You, of all people, can hardly afford the re-telling of your past if you wish to better yourself! Do not forget, I knew your brother. There are some in high places who might reconsider any officer’s chances of advancement once they were reminded of some flaw in his family background, so watch your manners, Captain!”

Bolitho felt suddenly very calm. As if his body was suspended in the air. “Thank you for reminding me, Sir Hugo.” He was amazed at the sound of his voice. Like a complete stranger’s. “At least we will be able to dispense with all pretence from this moment onward.” He turned and walked quickly towards the companion ladder.

He found Keverne pacing back and forth on the quarterdeck, his face deep in thought.

“Signal Valorous to relay the admiral’s order to Restless. She is to up anchor and close with the flagship immediately. She will then take Sir Hugo Draffen aboard and act under his instructions.” He ignored Keverne’s curious stare. “You may then secure all guns and have our people fed. Well?”

Keverne asked, “Shall we withdraw, sir?”

“Attend to the signal, Mr Keverne.” He looked dully at the distant hills. “While I do some thinking.”

He turned as Lieutenant Sawle appeared below the quarterdeck accompanied by Witrand.

“Where are you taking the prisoner, Mr Sawle?”

The lieutenant stared at him blankly. “He is to be transferred to the sloop, sir.” He seemed confused. “Lieutenant Calvert says it is at the admiral’s bidding.”

“Come here.” Bolitho watched the Frenchman climbing lightly up the ladder, forgetting for the moment his earlier contempt and anger at Draffen’s threat.

“I will say farewell, Capitaine.” Witrand stretched and sniffed the warm sea air. “I doubt we will meet again.”

“I did not know of this, Witrand.”

“That I will believe, Capitaine.” Witrand eyed him curiously. “It seems that I may be expected to aid your cause. A joke, eh?”

Bolitho thought of Broughton’s growing desperation. He might have agreed with Draffen to allow Witrand’s transfer to the sloop in the hopes he would give away some secret about his own mission.

He replied quietly, “A joke. Perhaps.”

He shaded his eyes to watch the Valorous as she hoisted Broughton’s signal to her yards. Somewhere, hidden around the beaked headland the anchored sloop would see it and come hurrying to do his bidding. Witrand would probably stay aboard her and later be conveyed with despatches to Gibraltar.