The master pushed his plate away with disgust. `Never asked 'em!' was all he said.
11
Luck of the Game
Bolitho studied the masthead pendant and then walked aft to the compass. North-west by west. It was mid-afternoon, and despite the sky's unclouded, relentless glare there was sufficient wind to make it easier to endure. Undine had been made to lie at anchor in Pendang Bay almost until dusk the previous day, the set of the coastal currents and the wind's determination to remain from the south-west making a night passage too dangerous even to attempt. But in the last moments the wind had backed considerably, and with her sleek hull tilting to its pressure, Undine had beaten out of the bay, losing the settlement and its grim memories in purple shadow.
But if the wind had remained fresh it was still necessary to hold the ship close-hauled, the yards braced round to keep each sail drawing and steer Undine clear of the land. Should the wind veer without warning, and she lay too close to that undulating pattern of green coast, Undine could easily find herself hard upon a lee shore, and in real danger.
Herrick asked, `How much longer will we continue, sir?'
Bolitho did not reply immediately. He was watching the tiny triangular sails of Undine's cutter as it tacked daintily around a small clump of rocky islets.
Then he shifted his gaze to the maintop where Midshipman Keen sat with one bare leg dangling over the barricade, a telescope trained on the distant boat. Davy had the cutter, and would signal the moment he sighted anything. There was no sense in taking the ship too close when good visibility remained.
He said, `We are off the south-western cape, or as near as I can calculate. There are marshes and swamps a'plenty, accord ing to Mr. Mudge and Fowlar. If Captain Vega's information is correct, the Muljadi's vessels may be close by.'
He turned his face into the wind, feeling the sweat drying on his forehead and neck.
`The Benua Islands are about a hundred miles to the west'rd of us. A goodly piece of open water, if we get the chance to run these pirates down.'
Herrick watched him doubtfully, but was comforted by Bolitho's apparent optimism.
`What do we know of Muljadi, sir?'
Bolitho walked up the slanting deck to the'e weather rail and tugged the sticky shirt clear of his ribs.
`Little or nothing. Originally he came from somewhere in North Africa, Morocco or the Barbary Coast, jtt is said. He was taken as a slave by the Dons and chained in one of their galleys.
He escaped and was recaptured.'
Herrick whistled quietly. `I imagine the Dons were hard with him.'
Bolitho thought suddenly of the elderly Colonel Pastor and his impossible mission.
`The Dons lopped off a hand and an ear and left him marooned on some desolate beach.'
Herrick shook his head. `Yet somehow he reached the Indies, and can now strike fear into his old masters.'
Bolitho regarded him impassively. `Or whoever stands between him and his final goal, whatever that may be.'
They both stared up as Keen yelled, `Deck there! Cutter's signalled, sir! Mr. Davy points to the north'rd 1'
Bolitho snatched a glass. `Of course! I should have realised!'
['III He trained it on the cutter, and then beyond to the gently sloping cape. Tiny islets, crumbling ridges and rocks, and everywhere the unbroken backcloth of green. Any small vessel could work her way through there, as Davy's cutter was now doing.
Herrick slammed his fists together. 'Got 'em, by God!'
id, l Bolitho said crisply, `We will remain on this tack for the present. Hoist the recall signal for Mr. Davy and then beat to quarters.' He smiled, if only to ease the mounting excitement. `In ten minutes maybe?'
Herrick waited until Keen had shinned down a backstay to rejoin his signal party and then yelled, `Beat to quarters ! Clear for action!'
A solitary drummer-boy did the best he could, his sticks blurring in double-time as the tattoo brought the hands tumbling from hatchways and gratings.
`That might frighten 'em off, sir.'
Mudge was by his helmsmen, his jowl working on some meat or a quid of tobacco. There was little to choose between them, Bolitho often thought.
`I believe otherwise.'
Bolitho watched the bare-backed seamen dashing to their guns, casting off the lashings and groping for the tools of their trade. A reduced detachment of marines, under the command of a solitary corporal, was parading across the quarterdeck, while a handful more clambered aloft to the foretop and its swivel gun.
The cutter had already turned bows-on, her sails lowered, and thrusting through the inshore swell under oars alone.
`They will not have met with many frigates, I'm thinking. Their leader will try to reach open sea and outreach us, rather than face a blockade or the risk of our landing marines at his back.' He touched Mudge's arm impetuously. `He'll not know how unused we are to such affairs, eh?'
Mudge pouted. `I only 'ope that bugger Muljadi is 'ere, too ! 'E needs to be taught a lesson, an' double quick, in my reckonin'!'
`Deck there!' The lookout at the masthead waited until the scamper on the gun deck stopped. `Sail on th' lee bowl'
`By heaven, so there is!' Midshipman Keen gripped a seaman's arm and added excitedly, `Schooner by the cut of her!'
The seaman, pigtailed, and with ten years in the Navy, glanced at him and grinned.
`By God, I envy you young gennlemen your learnin', sir!'
But his sarcasm was lost in the excitement of the moment.
Herrick held up his hand as the last gun captain faced aft towards him. From the break below the quarterdeck a bosun's mate shouted, `All cleared aft, sir!' Herrick swung round and saw Bolitho examining his new watch.
`Cleared for action, sir.'
`Twelve minutes, exactly.' Bolitho glanced up at the masthead. `But for the lookout's hail, I believe you may have done it in less.' He let the mock formality drop. `Well done, Mr. Herrick and pass the word to all hands.'
He walked back down the angled deck and trained his glass across the nettings. Two raked masts with big dark sails. Like wings. They appeared motionless, the hull still hidden beyond one more probing spit of land. It was an illusion. She was edging around the last dangerous point. After that she would be up and away. But it would take her a good while yet.
He swung round. `Where is that damned cutter?'
Mowll, the master-at-arms, and easily the most unpopular man aboard, called, 'Comin' up fast, sir!'
`Well, signal Mr. Davy to make haste. I'll have to leave him astern otherwise.'
`Deck there! 'Tis another sail on th' lee bow!'
Herrick watched in silence until he had discovered the second pair of sails in his glass.
`Another schooner. Probably Company ships taken by these pirates.,
'No doubt.'
Bolitho turned to watch the cutter swinging round to drive beneath the main chains with a shuddering thud. Curses and clattering oars, all were finally quenched by Davy's angry voice and the more patient tones of Shellabeer, the boatswain, who was studying the whole manoeuvre from the gangway with obvious disgust.
Allday had been standing behind Bolitho and whispered, `Should have had young Mr. Armitage in charge, Captain. He'd have driven right through into the spirit store, cutter an' all !'
Bolitho smiled and allowed Allday to buckle on his sword. He had not seen his coxswain since breakfast, just after dawn. Yet the moment of danger, a hint of action, and he was here. Without fuss, and hardly a word to betray his presence.
Maybe.'
He saw Midshipman Armitage with Soames below the foremast, checking a list of gun crews which Soames had reallotted on passage from India. He found a moment to wonder what Armitage's mother would think if she saw her adored boy now. Leaner, and well tanned, his hair too long, and his shirt in need of a good wash. She would probably burst into tears all over again. But in one way -he had not changed. He was still as clumsy and as lacking in confidence as his first day aboard.
Little Penn, on the other hand, who was strutting importantly beside the starboard battery of twelve-pounders and waiting to assist Lieutenant Davy, had no such handicap. If anything, he was prone to attempt tasks which were several spans of experience beyond his twelve years.
Davy came struggling aft, ducking beneath a swinging shadow as the cutter was hoisted inboard and on to its chocks above the gun deck. He was soaked in spray, but very pleased with himself.
Bolitho said, `That was well done. By making a quick sighting-report, you have given us an edge on those two vessels.'
Davy beamed. `Some prize-money perhaps, sir?'
Bolitho hid a smile. `We will see.'
Herrick waited for Davy to join his gun crews and then said, `Just the two schooners. Nothing else in sight.' He rubbed his hands noisily.
Bolitho lowered the telescope and nodded. `Very well, Mr. Herrick. You may load and run out now.' He glanced at the masthead pendant for the hundredth time. `We will make more sail directly, and show these pirates what they are against.'
`Both schooners are keeping well inshore, sir.' Herrick lowered his telescope and turned to watch Bolitho's reactions. `With that rig they can sail really close to the wind.'
Bolitho walked to the compass, the picture of the two other vessels sharp in his mind. For over half an hour they had worked slowly and methodically between a small crop of islets, and were now following the coastline towards a sloping spur of headland. Around that there was yet another bay, with more jutting spits of land, but the schooners would choose their moment most carefully. Go about and dash for the open sea, separate perhaps, and so lessen Undine's chances of conquest.
They were both well-handled vessels, and through his glass he had seen an assortment of small cannon and swivels, and an equally varied selection of men.
Mudge watched him gloomily. `Wind's backed a'piece, sir. Might 'old.'
Bolitho turned and stared along his ship, weighing the risks and the gains. The green headland was reaching down towards Undine's starboard bow, or so it appeared. In fact, it was still some three miles distant. The two schooners, black against the lively wave crests, seemed to overlap into one ungainly craft, their great sails etched across the land.
He said firmly, `Get the t'gallants on her, and alter course two points to starboard.'
Herrick stared at him. `It'll be close, sir. If the wind veers we'll be hard put to beat off the shore.'
When Bolitho did not reply he sighed and lifted his speaking trumpet.
`Man the braces !'
From further aft the helmsmen spun their spokes, the senior one squinting at the flapping canvas and at the tilting compass bowl until even Mudge was satisfied.
'Not'-west by north, sir!'
`Very well.'
Bolitho studied the headland again. A trap for the two schooners, or a last resting place for Undine, as Herrick seemed to think.
Herrick was watching the topmen, waiting until the topgallant sails were freed and then brought under control like bulging steel breastplates. Undine was moving swiftly now, for with the wind sweeping tightly across her larboard quarter, and with topsails and topgallants braced to best advantage, there was little doubt the range was falling away.
Mudge asked worriedly, 'D'you think they'll try to go about, sir?'
`Perhaps.' Bolitho shivered as a curtain of spray lifted and burst across the weather rail, soaking him to the skin, adding to his rising excitement. `They'll try and weather the headland as close as they dare and use the next bay to change tack. Or, if one or both loses his head, we'll rake 'em as he goes about on this side of the headland.'
He peered at the gun deck, at the figures beside each twelvepounder. One good broadside would be more than enough for any schooner. The second might strike without risking a similar fate. He shut it from his mind. The fight was not even begun yet.
He pictured Conway back there in his remote kingdom. He would know better than Puigserver or Raymond what was at stake. With any luck Undine might settle Conway's security long enough for him to demonstrate what he could do.
A faint crack echoed across the water and a white feather of spray showed itself for just a few seconds., well away from the starboard bow. It brought a chorus of jeers from the waiting gun crews.
`Run up the Colours, Mr. Keen.'
Bolitho saw the handful of marines in the foretop adjusting their swivel gun. Some more were already cradling their long muskets along the hammock nettings, their faces stiff with concentration.
`One of 'em's making a run for it, sir!'
Bolitho caught his breath as the sternmost schooner tilted at a steep angle, her great mainsail sweeping above her deck like a huge wing while she altered course hard to larboard.
Somebody yelled, `By Jesus, she's in irons! Look at th' bugger!'
The schooner's captain had mistimed it very badly, for as his command pounded round to cross the wind's eye and find sea-room elsewhere, the sails flapped and rippled in hopeless confusion.
Bolitho shouted, `We'll take him first! Stand by, the larboard battery!'
He saw Soames hurrying down his line of guns, the captains crouching like athletes behind each breech, trigger lines taut as they peered through the open ports for a first sight of the target.
Bolitho straddled his legs and tried to hold his telescope on the nearest vessel. She was falling awkwardly down-wind, her narrow deck clearly visible as her crew fought to bring her back under control. Undine was overhauling her so rapidly that she was already lying some two cables from the larboard bow, and seemed to swell in size even as he watched. He saw the strange flag at her peak, black, with a red emblem in its centre. A prancing beast of some sort. He closed the glass with a snap and saw Keen flinch at the sound.
Allday grinned. `Two minutes, Captain. Just right.' He nodded towards the opposite bow where the other schooner was holding steadily on course towards the headland. `He seems content to let his mates go under.'
Soames was peering aft, his curved hanger glittering in the bright sunlight as he raised it slowly above his head. The glare was making him grimace so badly that he appeared to be grinning like a madman.
Bolitho looked at Mudge. `Let her fall off another point.' He forced a smile. `Not a moment longer than necessary, I promise.'
He pulled out his sword and held it casually across his shoulder. Through his crumpled shirt it felt like ice.
The helmsman yelled hoarsely, `Nor', nor'-west it is, sir!'
There was no time to perfect the set of the yards, no time for anything now as with barely a stagger Undine turned even further towards the shore, the movement dragging the labouring schooner into the view of the eager gun captains.
Bolitho shouted, `As you bear, Mr. Soames!'
Soames bellowed, `Stand by!' He came loping aft, pausing at each gun to peer along its muzzle. Satisfied, he jumped aside and yelled, `Fire!'
Bolitho tensed as the uneven broadside belched and shuddered along his ship's side. Soames had done well. To an extra puff of wind which had pushed the frigate over to leeward, he had judged it perfectly, taking the enemy ship on the uproll, raking her savagely from end to end.
Bolitho grasped a stay, his eyes blinded with smoke as the wind funnelled it back through every port. Men were coughing and swearing in the thick brown fog, but urged on by shouts and threats they were still managing to sponge out and reload for another broadside when needed.
He stared with amazement at the schooner as the smoke cleared away from the quarterdeck. Dismasted, almost buried under a chaos of fallen spars and ripped canvas, she seemed a total wreck.
`Bring her back to nor'-west by north, Mr. Mudge.'
He did not see the master's face, his look of relief and admiration. His ears were still ringing to the thunder of cannon fire, the sharper, probing cracks of the quarterdeck six-pounders. He hoped the less experienced men had found time to tie their scarves over their ears. Caught at the wrong angle, it only took one shot to deafen a
man. Often permanently.
`Run out!' Soames was peering at his crews as gun captain after captain raised a powder-blackened fist to show his weapon was loaded.
Herrick shouted, `Now for t'other one!'
He waved to Davy at the starboard battery, the gesture impulsive, unnoticed by himself. Davy waved back, his movement jerky, like a puppet. As they swept after the second schooner Midshipman Penn moved slightly to place his lieutenant between him and any possible damage.
Herrick laughed aloud. `By God, young Penn has the right idea, sir!' He peered up at the streaming pendant. `The wind is still kind, and this is putting new heart into our people.'
Bolitho watched him gravely. Later they would talk about it. But when it was happening, to you, to those around you, it was pointless to discuss anything. You never really knew the man in action. Pride, anger, insanity, it was there, and more. Even on Herrick's homely face. His own, too, no doubt.
He said, `We will run him as close as we can to the headland. After that it will be up to him. Strike or fight.'
He moved the sword-blade on his shoulder. The ice was gone. Now it was like a heated gun-barrel.
Mudge remarked, `That master is a fool. 'E should 'ave gone about sooner. I would 'ave done so. Crossed Undine's bows afore we could blast 'im.' He sighed. "E'll not get a second chance, I'm tninkin'.'
Bolitho looked at him. Mudge was right of course. Undine was playing a dangerous game to drive so bravely towards a lee shore, but the schooners had taken even more of a chance.
Herrick was saying, `Prize crew on one, and take the other in tow, eh, sir? We should get good recompense for two schooners, even if one of 'em is little more than a hulk.'
Bolitho watched the schooner without answering. Was Muljadi aboard her? Or in the other one, dying or already dead with some of his men? Better so, he thought, than fall into Puigserver's hands.
`Deck there!' The cry was almost lost above the chorus of spray and booming canvas. `Ship on the larboard quarter!'
Bolitho swung round, imagining for a moment that the lookout had been too long in the sun. For an instant he could see nothing, and then as his vision cleared he saw the forecourse and topsail of another ship standing around the last headland, the one they had rounded so carefully in pursuit of the schooners.
Command a King's Ship Page 19
