Command a King's Ship

by Alexander Kent

  Bolitho found Davy beneath a wall of overhanging rock, marking his list as yet another cask was sealed by Duff for the bumpy ride to the beach.

  The second lieutenant straightened his back and observed, `Going well, sir.'

  `Good.' Bolitho stooped and cupped his hands into the stream. It was like wine, despite the rotten looking roots which sprouted from either bank. `We will finish before dark.'

  He looked up at a patch of blue sky as the trees gave a stealthy rustle. It was unmoving air below the matted branches, but above and to seaward the wind was holding well.

  `I am going up the hill, Mr. Davy.' He thought he heard Penn sigh with despair. `I hope your lookouts are awake.'

  It was a long hard walk, and when they moved clear of the trees for the final climb to the summit, Bolitho felt the sun searing down on his shoulders, the heat through his shoes from the rough stones, like coals off a grate.

  But the two lookouts seemed contented enough. In their stained trousers and shirts, with their tanned faces almost hidden by straw hats, they looked more like castaways than British seamen.

  They had rigged a small shelter with a scrap of canvas, behind which lay their weapons, water flasks and a large brass telescope.

  One knuckled his forehead and said "Orizon's clear, Cap'n!'

  Bolitho tugged his hat over his eyes as he stared down the hill. The coastline was more uneven than he had imagined, water glittering between the thick layers of trees to reveal some inlet or cover not marked on any chart. Inland, and towards a distant barrier of tall hills, there was nothing but an undulating sea of trees. So close-knit, it looked possible to walk upright across the top of them.

  He picked up the telescope and trained it on the ship. She was writhing and bending in a surface haze, but he saw the boats moving back and forth, very slowly, like tired water-beetles. He felt grit and dust under his fingers, and guessed the telescope had spent more time lying on the hillside than in use.

  He heard Penn sucking noisily at a water flask, and could sense the lookouts willing him to leave them in peace. Theirs might be a thirsty job, but it was far easier than hauling casks through the forest. He moved the glass again. All those men, sledges and casks, yet from here he could see none of them. Even the beach was shielded. The boats, as they drew near the shore, appeared to vanish into the trees, as if swallowed whole.

  Bolitho turned to his right, the movement making the men stir with alarm. In the telescope's lens the trees and slivers of trapped water grew and receded as he continued his search. Something had touched the corner of his eye, but what? The lookouts were watching him doubtfully, each caught in his own attitude as if mesmerised.

  A trick of light. He blinked and rubbed his eye. Nothing.

  He began another slow scrutiny. Thick, characterless forest. Or was that merely what he expected to see? And therefore ... He stiffened and held his breath. When he lowered the glass the picture fell away into the distance. He waited, counting seconds, allowing his breathing to steady.

  The lookouts had begun to whisper again, and Penn was drinking as before. They probably imagined he had been too long in the sun.

  He lifted the glass very carefully. There, to the right, where he had already noticed a faint gleam of water, was something darker, at odds with the forest's greens and browns. He stared at it until his eye watered so painfully he could not continue.

  Then he closed the glass with a snap and said, `There is a ship yonder.' He saw Penn gaping at him, transfixed. `To the south'rd. It must be some sort of inlet which we did not see earlier.'

  He shaded his eyes, trying to estimate the distance, where it lay in relation to Undine and the beach where he had come ashore.

  One of the lookouts exclaimed, 'Oi never saw nothin', sir.' He looked frightened, and worse.

  Bolitho stared past him, trying to think.

  `Take this glass and make sure you can see it now!'

  He knew the seaman was more frightened of his captain, or what might become of him because of his negligence, than anything this discovery might mean.

  Bolitho's mind recorded all these reactions as he said, `Have you found it?'

  `Aye, sir!' The man bobbed unhappily. "Tis a mast, right enough.'

  `Thank you.' Bolitho added dryly, `Keep your eye on it. I do not want it to vanish again!'

  Penn dropped the flask and scuttled after him as he strode down the hill.

  `Wh-what might it mean, sir?'

  `Several things.' He felt the trees looming around him, a small relief from the sun's torment. `They may have sighted us and are lying low until we weigh. Perhaps they are intent on some other mischief, I am not certain.'

  He quickened his pace, ignoring creepers and fronds which plucked at his body. But for that brief flaw in the lens's picture he would have seen nothing, known nothing about the other vessel. Perhaps it would have been better that way. Maybe he was worrying to no purpose.

  He found Davy as before, lounging in the shade of the hillside, his features relaxed as he watched his men filling the casks. `Where is Mr. Fowlar?'

  Davy came out of his torpor with a jerk. 'Er, on the beach, sir.'

  `Damn!'

  Another hard mile before he could examine Fowlar's chart and Mudge's notes. He looked up at the sky. Hours yet before sunset, but when it did come it would be quick. Shutting out the light like a curtain.

  `I have discovered a ship, Mr. Davy. Well hidden, to the south'rd of us.' He saw the carpenter emerge from the under growth, a saw glinting in one fist. `Take charge here, Mr. Pryke.' He beckoned to Davy. `We are going to the beach.'

  Pryke nodded, his fat face glowing like a ripe apple. `Aye, sir.' He looked at Duff. `There be only five more casks, by my reckonin'.'

  `Well, speed the work. I want our people mustered as soon as the last one is filled.'

  Davy hurried along at his side, his handsome face puzzled.

  `Do you think this ship may be an enemy, sir?'

  `I intend to find out.'

  They completed the journey in silence, and Bolitho knew that Davy, like the lookouts, thought he was making too much of it.

  Fowlar listened to him calmly and then examined his chart.

  `If it is where I believe, then it is not marked here. So it must lie somewhere 'twixt this beach and the next bay.' He made a mark. `About there, I would suggest, sir.'

  `Could we reach it before dark? Overland?'

  Fowlar's eyes widened but he answered, `It looks close enough, sir. No more'n three mile or so. But that is four times as much in the jungle.' He dropped his eyes from Bolitho's gaze. `You might be able to do it, sir.'

  Davy asked, `But if we wait until tomorrow, sir? We could have Undine anchored nearer this vessel you have found.'

  `It -would take too long. She may have weighed and gone overnight. And if they are aware of our presence and purpose, a boat attack would be useless in daylight, and in a confined inlet. You should know that, Mr. Davy.'

  Davy looked at his shoes. `Yes, sir.'

  Another heavy cask lurched down the beach, the men panting like animals running from the hounds.

  Soames, who had trudged up the beach to listen, said suddenly, `She might be a slaver. In which case she will be well armed.' He rubbed his chin and nodded. `Yours is a good plan, sir.' His thick forefinger scratched over the chart. `We could cross the bottom of the hill where it reaches for the sea and strike south. If we travel lightly we should be at the inlet before dark.' He looked at Davy, his eyes hard. 'I'11 pick some good men. Ones who won't falter when the passage gets rough.'

  Davy said nothing, he was obviously smarting because Soames had offered a course of action rather than an unthinking suggestion.

  Bolitho looked towards the ship. `Very well. We will rest the hands for half an hour. Then we will begin. Forty men should be sufficient if we are careful. It may be a complete waste of time.' He thought of the silent jungle. Watching. `But to be anchored so dangerously inland? I doubt it.'

  He beck
oned to Penn. `I will write my orders for the first lieutenant, and you will take them across directly. Undine will send her boats tomorrow morning and pick us up from seaward. By then we should know.' He glanced at Davy. `One way or the other.'

  He saw Keen coming out of the trees, a pistol hanging casually from his belt. As he turned towards the sea he halted and raised one arm to point. It was the jolly boat, darting across the water at full speed, the oars winking in the sunlight like silver.

  Eventually it ground on to the beach, and without waiting for it to be made fast, Midshipman Armitage leapt over the gunwale and then fell face down on the sand.

  Allday, who had been watching critically, exclaimed, `God damn me, Captain! That young gentleman will stumble on an acorn!'

  Armitage hurried up the beach, his cheeks scarlet as he dashed past the groups of grinning seamen.

  He stammered, `Mr. Herrick's respects, sir!' He paused to wipe sand from his chin. `And we have sighted some small craft to the north of here.' He pointed haphazardly into the trees. `A whole party of them. Mr. Herrick thinks they may come this way, although ...' he stopped, screwing up his face as he usually did when passing a message, `... although they have vanished for the present.' He nodded, relieved, as he recalled the last part. `Mr. Herrick suggests they have gone into another beach for some purpose.'

  Bolitho gripped his hands behind him. The very thing he had been expecting had happened. It could not have come at a worse time.

  `Thank you, Mr. Armitage.'

  Davy said quietly, `That has put paid to the venture, sir. We cannot be divided if hostile natives are about.'

  Soames said scathingly, `A plague on that, Mr. Davy! We have enough powder and shot to scatter a thousand bloody savages !'

  `That will do!' Bolitho glared at them, his mind struggling with the problem. `Mr. Herrick is probably correct. They may have gone ashore to hunt, or to make camp. Either way, it makes our mission all the more urgent.' He watched Soames thoughtfully, seeing the mixture of anger and triumph in his deepset eyes. `Select your men at once.'

  Davy asked stiffly, `What will I do, sir?'

  Bolitho turned away. In a hand-to-hand struggle Soames would be the better man. If things went against them, Herrick would need brains rather than brawn if he was to continue the voyage on his own resources.

  `You will return to the ship with the last of the shore parties.' He scribbled a note on Fowlar's pad. `And you will convey my . . . 'he hesitated, not seeing the desperation which clouded Davy's face, `... my ideas to him as best you can.'

  Davy said tightly, `I am senior to Soames, sir. It is my right to take part in this!'

  Bolitho looked at him calmly. `I will decide where your duty lies. Your loyalty I take for granted.' He watched Soames marching up and down a double line of men. `Your turn will come, be sure of that.'

  A shadow fell across Fowlar's chart and Bolitho saw the Spanish lieutenant, Rojart, watching him, his face as sad as ever.

  `Yes, Teniente?'

  He must have come ashore in one of the other boats.

  Rojart said, `I arrive to offer my services, Capitan.' He looked at Davy and Allday, his face very proud. `Don Luis 'as instructed me to do all I can to 'elp you.'

  Bolitho sighed. Rojart had already shown himself to be somewhat of a dreamer. Or perhaps his cruel experiences in the shipwreck had made him as he was. But one more officer, Spanish or not, would be useful. He also provided an excuse.

  He said to Davy, `So you see, Mr. Herrick will need your services more than ever now?'

  To Rojart he replied, `I accept your offer, Teniente, thank you.'

  The Spaniard gave a flashing smile and bowed. `Your servant, Capitin!'

  Allday grinned and murmured, `God help us all!'

  Another cask was being manhandled on to the beach, and Duff puffed out of the trees, folding his spectacles as he shouted, `That be the last 'un, sir!' He beamed at the onlookers. `A full load!'

  Soames tightened his swordbelt and said, `Ready when you are, sir.' He pointed to the assembled seamen. `All armed, but without any unnecessary gear to drag 'em back.' He ignored Davy.

  Keen and his pickets were gathering at the end of the beach, and by the shallows Pryke stood guard over an odd pile of timber which his mates had collected for him.

  Davy touched his hat formally. `I wish you luck, sir.'

  Bolitho smiled. `Thank you. I hope we will not need it just yet.'

  He glanced at Fowlar. `Lead the way and make notes as we go. Who knows, we may come here again some day.'

  Then he turned his back on the sea and strode up the beach towards the trees.

  `We will rest now.'

  Bolitho dragged his watch from his breeches pocket and peered at it. Its face was harder to see than the last occasion. When he looked up at a gap in the trees he thought the sky was already duller, the trees touched with purple instead of gold. Around him the seamen dropped wearily on their knees or leaned against the trees, trying to gain relief after their forced march. The first part had not been too difficult. With axes swinging to carve a trail, they had made good time, but as they drew closer to where Bolitho and Fowlar estimated the inlet lay, they had stopped using axes, and had fought their way through the brush and creeper with bare hands.

  He looked at them thoughtfully. Their shirts were ripped and torn, faces and arms bloody from encounters with treacherous branches and thorns. At their backs the intertwined trees

  had grown blacker, and seemed to shiver in the vapour of dead vegetation as if in a wind which could not be felt.

  Soames was wiping his face and neck with a rag. `I've sent scouts ahead, sir.' He knocked a water bottle from a man's mouth. `Easy, damn you! That may have to last awhile yet!'

  Bolitho saw him with different eyes. Like the men Soames had selected as scouts, for instance. Not the toughest or the most seasoned seamen as a lieutenant of his background might be expected to choose. Both scouts were from Undine's newest recruits and had never been to sea before. One had worked on a farm, and the other had been a Norfolk wildfowler. Excellent choices both, he thought. They had gone off into the trees with hardly a sound.

  Allday muttered, `What d'you think, Captain?'

  His sturdy figure, familiar and reassuring, made Bolitho relax slightly.

  He replied, `I think we are very near now.'

  He wondered how Herrick was managing, and whether he had sighted any more native craft. He shivered. Like most of his men, he felt out of place here.

  ‘Cut off.’ Fowlar hissed, `Stand to, lads! Someone's a'comin'!'

  Muskets moved blindly in the gloom, and a few men started to draw their cutlasses.

  Soames snapped, `A scout!' He strode towards the shadow. `By God, Hodges, that was quickly done.'

  The man stepped into the small clearing and looked at Bolitho.

  `I found the ship, sir. She be about 'alf a mile away.' He stretched out one arm. `If we veers a piece we should be able to reach 'er within the hour.'

  `What else?'

  Hodges shrugged. He was a lean man, and Bolitho could well picture him as a wildfowler, creeping about in the Norfolk marshes.

  He said, `I didn't stray too near, you'll understand, sir. But they're anchored close in. There's more on 'em ashore in a clearing. I 'card someone,' he faltered, `sort of moanin'.' He shuddered. `It made me flesh tingle, I can tell you, sir.'

  Soames said harshly, `As I thought. Bloody slavers. They'll have a camp ashore. They collect the poor devils and sort 'em into groups. Girls in one party, men in t'other. They weigh 'em, then decide who will last the voyage to wherever the cargo is bound.'

  Fowlar spat on the dead leaves and nodded. `The rest they leave behind. Cut their throats to save powder and shot.'

  Bolitho looked at the scout, trying to shut Fowlar's blunt comment from his thoughts. Everyone knew it happened. Nobody seemed to know how to deal with it. Especially when many influential persons reaped a rich profit from the trade.

  `Are
there guards about?'

  `I saw two, sir. But they seem well content. The ship 'as two guns run out.'

  Soames grunted. `No doubt. A bellyful of grape or canister if anyone tries to free those bastards!'

  The Spanish lieutenant moved amongst them. Despite the rough passage through the trees he managed to remain very elegant in his ruffled shirt and wide cuffs.

  'Per'aps we should continue towards the shore, Capitan.' He shrugged eloquently. `There is no sense in arousing this ship if she is a mere slaver, yes?'

  Soames turned away, saying nothing. But Bolitho guessed that like most sailors he was disgusted that Rojart could accept slavery as a natural state of affairs.

  `We go forward, Teniente. In any case, our boats will not come for us until tomorrow.'

  He looked at Soames. `Take charge. I am going to see for myself.' He beckoned to Midshipman Keen. `You, too.' As he felt his way out of the clearing he added, `The rest of you, be ready to follow. No talking, and hold on to each other if you fear getting separated. Any man who fires a musket by whatever means or accident will feel my anger!'

  Hodges pushed ahead saying, `My mate, Billy Norris, is keepin' a weather eye on 'em, sir. Follow close. I've marked the way.'

  Bolitho took his word, although he could see no marks anywhere.

  It was amazing how near they had been. It seemed no time at all before Hodges was tapping his arm and gesturing for him to take cover amidst some sharp-toothed scrub, and here, opening up like a theatre, was the inlet. And how much lighter it seemed, the sunlight still lingering on the trees, and painting the sluggishly moving water with rippling reflections.

  He eased himself forward, trying to ignore the painful jabs in his hands and chest. Then he froze, forgetting all the discomfort and uncertainty as he saw the ship for the first time.

  Behind him he heard Allday voicing his thoughts.

  `By God, Captain, it's the one which lured the Dons on to that reef!'

  Bolitho nodded. The brigantine appeared larger in the confined inlet, but there was no mistaking her. He. knew he would not forget her for many a year to come.

  He heard the same pitiful moaning Hodges had described, and then the sharp clatter of steel on the ,far side of the inlet.