Command a King's Ship

by Alexander Kent

  `But that is exactly what you are about to do?' Bolitho smiled gravely. `It is all right, Thomas, I am not going to snap your head off!'

  Herrick would not relent. `It is no joke, sir. The lady is the wife of an important government official. If this sort of tale ever reached England, you would be in real danger, and that's the truth.'

  `Thank you for your concern.' He glanced ahead where far beyond the gently spiralling bowsprit he saw Rosalind leading the way through the shallows and sandspits as she had no doubt done many times before. `But it is something I do not wish to discuss. Even with you, if you are to disagree with everything I say.'

  `Yes, sir, I'm sorry.' But Herrick added stubbornly, `I can't stand by and see you in irons because of others, sir, not without trying at least to help.'

  Bolitho gripped his arm. `Then we will say no more of the matter, Thomas. Agreed?'

  `Aye, Sir.' Herrick regarded him unhappily. `If it is the way you want it.'

  A seaman left the galley and darted down an open hatch

  below the forecastle. He was carrying a bucket and swab. Herrick said wearily, `The surgeon is sick again. That man

  must be going to clean out his quarters.'

  Bolitho looked at him. `Drunk, I suppose?'

  `It would seem so. But there is little to occupy him, sir, and

  our people have been remarkably free of illness.'

  `That is just as well.' Bolitho felt unreasonably angry. `What

  in hell's name am I to do with him?' `He has a lot on his mind, sir.'

  `So have many others.'

  Herrick kept his voice even. `He saw his young brother hanged for a crime of which he was later proved innocent. Even if he had been guilty it would still have been a terrible thing to watch.'

  Bolitho swung round from the rail. `How did you discover this?'

  `At Madras. He came aboard drunk. I was a mite harsh with him and he started to rave about it. It is destroying him.'

  `Thank you for telling me, even if it is somewhat late.'

  Herrick did not flinch. `You have been rather buoi, sir. I did not wish to trouble you.'

  Bolitho sighed. `I take your point. But in future I would like to hear everything. Most ship's surgeons are no more than butchers. Whitmarsh has been something more, but as a drunken sot he is a menace to everyone aboard. I am sorry for his brother, I for one can appreciate his feelings.' He looked steadily at Herrick. `We will have to see what we can do to put things right for him, whether he likes it or not.'

  Herrick nodded gravely. `I agree, sir. The one afflicted is not always the best judge of his own malady.' He tried not to grin. `If you see what I mean, sir.'

  Bolitho slapped his shoulder. 'By God, Thomas, you go too far! I am not surprised your father sentyou to sea!'

  Then he walked up the tilting deck to the weather side and left Herrick to supervise his watch.

  So they knew all about it, did they? He touched the bulge in his breeches pocket. What would Herrick say if he saw the inscription inside the watch-guard, he wondered?

  `We will wear ship directly, Mr. Herrick.' Bolitho strode to the compass and peered over Mudge's untidy shoulder. `Steer nor'nor'-east.'

  Herrick touched his hat. `Aye, aye, sir.' He was equally formal.

  It was five days since they had discussed Viola Raymond and the doctor's personal problem, and in that time Bolitho had never felt better. The ship had settled down to a regular, unhurried routine, and even the drills had passed off without complaint. At gunnery Undine's company still had a lot to learn, but at least they moved as a team and not a stumbling, confused rabble.

  He raised his glass and studied the new shapes and patterns which parted sea from sky. Mudge had assured him that Pendang Bay lay some five miles distant, but it was difficult to accept that they had all but arrived at their destination. Over fifteen thousand miles. Another world. A different life.

  `Hands wear ship! Man the braces there!'

  Shoes scraped on the planking, and Bolitho turned to study Conway's reaction as he came on deck. It was early morning, and for a few seconds he thought he was imagining what he saw.

  Conway was wearing his rear admiral's uniform, complete with laced cocked hat and sword. The latter he held like a pointer, as if unsure of his reception.

  Bolitho said, `Good morning, sir.'

  He saw Herrick staring at them, his speaking trumpet in mid-air.

  Conway joined him by the rail and raised his head to watch as the great yards creaked round in unison, while the straining seamen hauled and panted at the braces.

  `Well?' His tone was wary. `What do you think?'

  `I think you look right for the occasion, sir.'

  He saw the quick tightening of Conway's mouth, the lines on either side deepening still further. It was moving, if pathetic, to see Conway's gratitude, for that is what it was.

  `It is a bit creased of course. I was merely trying it on to see if it required alteration.' He added sharply, `If I am to be governor, I'll land as I intend to continue, damn their eyes!'

  Midshipman Armitage was watching the brig as she trimmed her yards to take station off Undine's lee.

  He remarked nervously, `Thunderstorm, sir.'

  But Bolitho was already snatching a telescope.

  `Not this time, Mr. Armitage.' He looked at Herrick. `Shorten sail, if you please, and then beat to quarters.'

  He saw them all gaping at him. Like total strangers.

  `That thunderstorm is of a kind I have come to respect!'

  I0

  Another Flag

  `Ship cleared for action, sir.' Herrick watched Bolitho's face anxiously.

  Bolitho moved the telescope slowly from bow to bow, trying to avoid the overlapping mesh of shrouds and stays as he stared fixedly at the shore. Because of the glare which filtered through then morning haze it was impossible to fix any proper mark or to take an accurate'bearing.

  He replied, `Too long, Mr. Herrick. I want the time cut to twelve minutes.' He was speaking merely to give himself another moment to gather his thoughts.

  The distant gunfire had stopped, but there had been at least a dozen shots. Sharp and loud, despite the range. Probably small pieces.

  He swung the glass further to starboard, seeing the lowlying wedge of land reaching out to lie parallel with their slow approach. The eastern headland of Pendang Bay. There was no room for further doubt.

  Something dark intruded into the lens, and he saw the brig tilting to the low breeze, her yards alive with tiny figures as she finished reefing. A huge Spanish flag had been hoisted to her peak, blinding white in the glare, and he found time to wonder how Rosalind's master was reacting to Puigserver's show of national pride.

  Almost without intending to speak aloud he said, `I wish the Don was here with us. I think combined thought and action may be called for.'

  He heard Conway grunt. `Unnecessary. Ours is the ship of war, Bolitho. I want no damned Spaniard under my feet today.'

  Herrick asked quietly, `What d'you make of it, sir?' Bolitho shook his head. `An attack on the settlement maybe.

  But I understand the place is well defended and-' Conway interrupted harshly, `All this fuss over a few bloody

  savages!'

  Herrick was standing beside Mudge and whispered, `I expect that is what poor Captain Cook said!'

  Bolitho turned sharply. `If you've all nothing better to do than make stupid remarks.. .' He swung away and added, `Two good leadsmen in the chains immediately. Begin sounding.' To Mudge he snapped, `Let her fall off a point.'

  The edge in his tone was having the right effect. Men who seconds earlier had been chatting and gossiping about what might be happening ashore were now silent and alert, standing to their guns, or grouped at halliards and braces for the next command.

  The wheel creaked, the sound very loud in the sudden stillness, and the helmsman called, 'Nor'-east by north, sir !'

  `Very well.'

  Bolitho glanced at Conway's profile, the
glassy intentness in his eye.

  From forward came the leadsman's cry, `No bottom, sir!'

  Bolitho looked at Mudge, but the master's heavy face was expressionless. He probably thought it was a waste of time to take soundings. The chart, and all available information, told them the water was deep until the last cable or so. Or maybe he thought his captain was so nervous that he was afraid to leave anything to chance.

  Another, single crack echoed out from the mist-shrouded coast and died away very gradually.

  Bolitho tugged out his new watch and stared at it. At this speed it would take near on an hour to close the land. But it could not be helped.

  `No bottom, sir!'

  He said, `Pass the word for Captain Bellairs. I'll want a full landing party. Tell Mr. Davy to prepare the boats for lowering once we have anchored. He will take charge of them.'

  Conway said briefly, `Good beach, I'm told. The settlement and fort are on a slope to the western side of the bay.'

  Herrick strode aft and touched his hat. `Shall I order the guns to load, sir? He sounded guarded.

  'Not yet, Mr. Herrick.'

  Bolitho trained his glass across the larboard bow. Settlement, fort, they could have been imagination. The blurred green outline of the land looked totally deserted.

  He heard the marine sergeant bellowing orders, the stamp of boots as his men were divided and sub-divided in readiness to disembark. Bellairs was watching them from the starboard gangway, his face completely blank, but his eyes missing nothing.

  `By the mark twenty!' The leadsman sounded triumphant.

  Mudge nodded gloomily. `About right. Twenty fathoms hereabouts.'

  Some small birds darted across the sea's face and circled above the braced yards. Bolitho watched them, recalling the swifts flying about the grey stone house in Falmouth. It would be fine there today. Sunshine, bright colours. The hills dotted with sheep and cattle. The town itself busy with farmers and sailors, each depending on the other, as it had always been.

  jHe saw Herrick nearby and said quietly, `Forgive my anger ust now.'

  Herrick smiled. `No matter, sir. You were right. We have been caught unawares already on this venture. Trouble will not fade away merely because we turn our backs on it.'

  'Rosalind's settin' 'er fores'l again, sir!'

  They turned to watch as the brig dipped to the wind and gathered way.

  Conway snarled, `By God, the Don intends to lead us inshore, blast him!V

  'It is his right, sir.' Bolitho trained his glass on the other vessel, seeing the busy figures above and below, the great slash of her ensign with its crowned shield bright in the sunlight. `It is still the territory of the Spanish Royal Company until he says otherwise.'

  Conway scowled. `That is mere formality.' He stared hard at him. `Fire a warning shot, Captain!'

  Bolitho looked at Herrick. `Pass the word forrard. One ball.

  But mind it drops well clear of the brig.'

  The leadsman called again, `Deep eighteen!'

  Bolitho shut his ears to the squeak of gun trucks as the fore, most twelve-pounder was run out. The gun captain was peering along the muzzle, and as the light touched him Bolitho saw that

  one hand was a metal hook. Turpin.

  Herrick shouted, `Ready, sir!'

  `As you will then.'

  The gun crashed out, and seconds later a thin waterspout rose

  like a feather far beyond the brig's bowsprit.

  Bolitho said, `Well, atleasttheywill knowwe are coming, sir,' Conway snapped, `Savages. I'll soon get to the bottom of this

  little matter.'

  Bolitho sighed as the brig fell off slightly, her foresail already being brailed up in response to his rough signal. The thought of having a poorly armed brig lying between an enemy and his own artillery was a worry he could not afford. And she was aboard Rosalind, too.

  He turned round sharply, angry with himself for allowing his thoughts to drift. Right now he needed-to be completely clear. His mind like steel.

  `Mr. Mudge, d'you know much of this place, other than you have already told me?'

  The master shrugged. `Very few people 'ave seen inland, sir.

  'Ead 'unters, warrin' tribes there are a'plenty, I'm told. But the

  natives are often sailors, pirates from the north of Borneo.

  Sea-Dyaks they calls 'em. Many a good ship 'as been overrun

  at anchor by them devils.' He shook his jowls. `Then it's snip, snip with their long knives, an' poor Jack is no more!'

  At that moment a seaman beside a six-pounder pointed aloft as the masthead pendant licked out with renewed energy.

  Like a long, low curtain the sea mist began to move and shred itself, vanishing into the land, and laying bare endless stretches of beach, thick jungle, and finally the overlapping hills beyond.

  Herrick lowered his telescope and exclaimed, `And is that the settlement, sir?'

  Bolitho steadied his own glass, not daring to look at Conway's face. What he had first taken to be a heap of lopped and piled trees was shaping itself into long, spiked palisades, supported and guarded at regular intervals by squat, timbered blockhouses. As the mist slipped away he saw what must be the governor's residence. It had to be, for it was the largest building in sight. Again, it was built entirely of timber, with an

  upper and lower rampart and one spindly watchtower in its

  Centre, above which the Spanish flag lifted occasionally in the

  sea breeze.

  Conway said thickly, `In God's name!' The words were ,,rung from his throat.

  BolithO watched the distant fort for some sign of life other than the flag. The place looked crude, but was well sited, easy to defend. There must be settlements like this all over the world, he thought. But what about before? Someone had first to wade ashore from a boat, or march through swamp and jungle to plant a flag. To claim the land for his own country. He had heard of islands in the Pacific which were regularly claimed and re-claimed by half a dozen nations, sometimes out of the genuine desire to colonise, but often merely because their ships paused there for no other reason than to find water and firewood.

  'By the mark ten!'

  He looked at Herrick. `We will anchor in eight fathoms.' He saw Allday scrambling over the gig on its chocks. `Then boats away as fast as you can.'

  He turned his attention to the cruising wavelets which had risen to enjoy the freshening breeze. It was a large but wellsheltered bay. It was said that the Spanish Royal Company had claimed it years earlier almost by accident. They had intended to place their settlement further north, to gain access for trade with the Philippines. But fever, losses in ships and resources had found them here instead. It was easy to understand why the Spaniards had lost heart, easier still to realise how much more important it would be to the British. Within reach of both India and the vast, barely-tapped resources of the China Seas, it could be a vital link, given time and skilful handling. With the French and Spaniards gone from the area, only the power of the Dutch East Indiamen offered any sort of competition. He glanced quickly at Conway's stiff features. But was he the one to begin it, he wondered?

  Fighting men rarely saw much further than the strategy and tactics of the moment. And one made bitter and desperate by past mistakes would be less inclined to compromise.

  `People leaving the palisade, sir!'

  Bolitho raised the glass again. Twos and threes, some carrying muskets, others limping down the sand towards the water's edge and a long, partly-constructed pier of rough timber and piles. Most of them were so dark-skinned they could be natives, but the uniforms were Spanish well enough.

  Not one of them waved. They merely stood or sat dejectedly watching the frigate's careful approach.

  Herrick said under his breath, `God, they look like scarecrows!'

  `What did you expect, Mr. Herrick, sir?' Unseen and unheard, the surgeon had appeared on the quarterdeck, his face and neck like raw meat.

  Bolitho watched him impassively. `You are r
ecovered, it seems, Mr. Whitmarsh?'

  The surgeon turned his gaze on him. His eyes were redrimmed with strain, so that they looked too hot for their sockets.

  He muttered vaguely, `We have arrived, I see, sir.' He reached out for support and, finding none, almost fell headlong. He mumbled, `Pattern never changes. First they hand over their power of protection to us. With ships and men if needed to give power to that protection. When all is safe the traders will come, and the Company's flag will be supreme.'

  Bolitho asked coldly, `And then what?'

  Whitmarsh regarded him emptily. `The place will become a colony, a possession. Or if we have cleaned it out like an empty shell, we will simply ...' he retched, `... discard it. Cast it away !'

  Conway seemed to hear him for the first time. `Get off this deck, you drink-sodden creature!' His face was working with despair, a need to release his anger. `Or by heaven you will be sorry!'

  The surgeon gave an awkward bow. `But I am sorry, believe me! Sorry for you, sir, at being given this wretched task.' He swayed towards Bolitho. `For the good captain, who will eventually be made to stand between justice and tyranny. And more sorry perhaps ...' He pitched forward in an untidy heap and lay completely still.

  `By the mark eight!'

  The leadsman's call brought Bolitho back to reality.

  He snapped, `Have him taken to his quarters.'

  As some seamen seized the inert surgeon and carried him to the ladder, he caught the sour odour of vomit and spilled wine. The stench of a man's decay.

  Conway was still staring at the deck. `Another second and I'd have had him in irons!' He glared at Bolitho. `Well?'

  `There was something in what he said, sir. What is on a sober man's mind is often on a drunkard's tongue.'

  Herrick called, `Close enough, I think, sir.'

  Bolitho hurried to the quarterdeck rail, glad to be free of Conway's mood. He studied the lie of the smaller headland to larboard, the great eastern one on the opposite beam, thrusting out to sea, and already a delicate green in the early sunlight.

  `Signal our intention to Rosalind, and then wear ship, if you please.' He waited until the anchor party had assembled above the cathead. Then he added, `Tell Davy to keep our people together once we are ashore. I want no plague raging through Undine.'