Herrick gasped, `What is she?' He stared at Bolitho. 'The Argus?'
Bolitho nodded grimly. `I fear so, Mr. Herrick.'
He tried to keep his tone level when his whole being was screaming at him to act, to do the impossible. And how easy he had made it for them. He had allowed the schooners to draw him, like a fox after two rabbits. Argus must have been following them along the coast, waiting for the trap to be sprung, reading Bolitho's mind without even being able to see him.
Herrick exclaimed, `Then, by God, we'll tell Mr. Frenchman to sheer off! This is none of his affair!'
Keen called, `She's overhauling us, sir.'
Bolitho looked past him. The Argus was already beating well out on their larboard quarter, taking the wind-gage, doing exactly what he had attempted to do to the schooners. Now Undine was in the trap. Run aground, or try and claw to windward? He saw the sunlight flashing down the big frigate's exposed side, the small moving shadows above the creaming water as she ran out her whole broadside.
He thought of the man behind those guns. How did he feel at this moment?
Herrick said quietly, 'Eighteen-pounders, I'm told, sir?' He watched his face, as if hoping for a denial of Argus's strength. `Yes.'
He drew in a long breath as a flag broke from the Frenchman's peak. Black and red, like the ones which had flown above the schooners. Letter of marque. Hired by a foreign power, the flag merely to keep up a pretence-of legality.
Keen lowered his telescope and said quickly, `She's almost up to the dismasted schooner, sir.' He was managing to sound calm, but his hands were shaking badly. `There are some men in the water. I think they were thrown outboard when the masts came down.'
Bolitho took the glass and watched, his mind cold as he saw the frigate ride through and over the men in the water. The captain had probably not even seen them. All he saw was Undine.
He raised his voice, hoping the others would not despair at its strangeness. `We will alter course directly.' He ignored the unspoken protest on Mudge's heavy face. `Get the t'gallants off her, Mr. Herrick. The Frenchman will expect us to do so if we are about to fight.' He looked at Mudge again. `Without so much canvas we may be able to gain a little room to give an account of ourselves.'
Mudge replied harshly, `It'll mean crossin' 'er bows, sir! Even if we gets round without 'avin' the sticks torn out of us, what then? The Argus will overreach us and put a full broadside through our stern as she passes!'
Bolitho regarded him bleakly. `I am relying on his desire to retain the wind-gage, for without it he might change places with us.' He saw no agreement in Mudge's tiny eyes. `Or would you have me haul down our colours, eh?'
Mudge flushed angrily. `That ain't fair, sir!'
Bolitho nodded. `Neither is a battle.'
Mudge looked away. `I'll do me best, sir. Lay 'er as close to th' wind as she's ever bin.' He tapped the compass bowl. `If th' wind 'olds, we should be able to steer almost due west.' He strode to the wheel. `God 'elp me.'
Bolitho turned and saw the topmen sliding down to the deck again, felt the more sluggish motion as Undine plunged ahead on topsails and forecourse. A glance at the other ship told him that her captain was doing likewise. He had no need to worry. Undine would have to stand and fight. There was no room left to run away. He walked slowly back and forth, stepping unseeingly over the six-pounder tackles, his knee brushing against a crouching seaman as he passed. Argus's captain would be watching his every move. The advantage, if there was one," would last only seconds, a few minutes at best. He looked at the headland. It seemed very close now, extending far out beyond the larboard bow, like a great arm waiting to snatch them whole.
Then he strode to the quarterdeck rail and called, 'Mr. Soames 11 will want a broadside as we put about. You have small chance of hitting him, but the sudden challenge may have an effect.' He let his gaze move slowly along the upturned faces. `You will have to reload and run out quicker than ever before. The Argus is a powerful ship and will endeavour to use her heavier iron to full advantage. We must get to close quarters.' He felt the grin frozen to his lips like a clamp. `Show him that our lads are better, no matter what damn flag he wears !'
A few raised a cheer, but it was not much of a rally.
Herrick said quietly, `Ready when you are, sir.'
It seemed very quiet. Bolitho looked aloft yet again. The pendant flicked out as before. If the wind backed further it would be some small help. If it veered it would be disaster. Then he looked at Soames as he clumped heavily aft and disappeared below the quarterdeck. To supervise the sternmost twelvepounders, which would bear first once they had altered course. Davy was by the foremast, sending some of his own gun crews across to assist the larboard battery. If Argus's eighteenpounders got to grips they would need plenty of replacements, he thought grimly.
He faced Herrick and smiled. `Well, Thomas?'
Herrick shrugged. 'I'11 tell you what I think when it's over and done with, sir.'
Bolitho nodded. It was an unnerving feeling. It always was, of course, and yet you imagined that each time was worse than the one before. In an hour, in minutes, he could be dead. Thomas Herrick, his friend, might be fighting a battle not of his choosing, or screaming out his life on the orlop deck.
And Mudge. Hand-picked because of his vast store of knowledge. But for this commission he would have been discharged now. Living with his children, and his grandchildren, too, in all probability.
He snapped, `So be it then! Put the helm down!' `Man the braces. Lively there!'
Shuddering and groaning in protest, Undine slewed round to the thunder of wind and wildly flapping canvas. Bolitho saw spray bursting through the open ports as she swayed further and further to the violent change of tack. From the corner of his eye he saw the Argus's topsails lifting above the hammock nettings, her shape shortening as Undine swung round across her bows. A gun banged out, and the ball whimpered some where overhead. Someone must have fired too soon, or perhaps the French captain had already guessed what they were trying to do.
Soames was ready and waiting, and the first crash of gunfire shook the deck violently, the smoke swirling up and over the nettings in a writhing pall. Gun by gun down the side, from stern to bow, the six-pounders joining in as the Argus crossed each black muzzle. Bolitho saw her foresail jerk and throb to the onslaught, holes appearing like magic as Soames's gun crews fired, reloaded and fired again.
When he peered forward Bolitho saw that the headland had eased back to starboard, the schooner already tiny as she scuttled around it and into the next bay.
Mudge yelled, `West by north, sir! Full an' bye!' He was mopping his eyes with his handkerchief, clinging to the mizzen mast pike rack to hold himself upright.
He gestured towards the gaff where the red ensign streamed almost abeam. `Close as we can get, sir!'
Bolitho winced as the six-pounders barked out again, and saw the nearest one bounding inboard until caught and held by its tackle. Its crew was already sponging out and groping for fresh charges and another ball from the shot garland, eyes white and staring through the grime, voices lost in the crash and roar of cannon fire, the squeal of trucks as like angry hogs the heavy guns were run out towards the enemy.
The Argus had at last followed Bolitho's lead. She was swinging round, her yards braced almost fore and aft, to hold the wind and keep Undine under her lee.
Even as he watched Bolitho saw the long orange tongues flashing from her ports, the bombardment unhurried and carefully aimed as gun by gun she fired through the swirling curtain of smoke and spray.
A ball screamed above the quarterdeck and slapped through the maintopsail before dropping far abeam. Others were hitting the hull, above or below the waterline, Bolitho had no idea. He heard someone screaming through the choking smoke, saw men dashing hither and thither like prisoners in hell as they rammed home the new charges and threw their shining, blackened bodies to the tackles again and again.
Above the din he heard Soames's deep voice rallying and
cursing as he kept his men at their guns. A swivel banged out from the top, and he imagined the marines were firing more to ease their own fears than with much hope of hitting anything,
A quarterdeck gun port seemed to explode in a great burst of flame, and Bolitho saw men, and pieces of men hurled in all directions at once as a ball tore splinters from the bulwark and transformed them into hideous darts.
One marine ran sobbing from the nettings, his hands clawing at what remained of his face. Others stood or knelt by their fallen companions, firing, reloading, firing, reloading, until it seemed life itself had stopped.
A down-draught of wind swirled the smoke away, and Bolitho saw the other frigate's yards and punctured sails barely fifty yards abeam. He saw the filtered sunlight touching pikes and cutlasses as the enemy prepared to board, or to fight off their attempt to do likewise. He gasped as another line of bright tongues darted through the smoke, felt the planks buck under his feet, the crash and clatter of a gun being overturned or smashed to fragments.
When he peered upwards he saw that the maintopsail was little better than a rag, but every spar was still intact. A wounded seaman clung to the mainyard, his blood running down one leg unheeded to the deck far below. Another seaman managed to reach him and drag him to safety, and together they crouched below the maintop, caught in the severed ratlines like two broken birds.
Herrick was yelling, `He's trying to cripple us, sir! Take us as a prize!'
Bolitho nodded and stopped to drag an injured man clear of a six-pounder. He had already guessed Argus's intentions. Another ship for Muljadi's use, or perhaps to replace Argus so that she could return to France.
The thought seemed to drive into his heart like a knife.
`We'll put the helm hard down! Swing the bows right into him!' He did not recognise his own voice. `Tell Davy to get ready to grapple!' He seized Herrick's arm. `We must grapple! He'll pound us to splinters at this rate!'
He felt the blast of a ball past his head, heard it strike the opposite bulwark and send a mass of wood splinters scything across the deck like arrows.
Herrick was yelling to Mudge and the men at the braces, and through the smoke Bolitho saw Argus's shadowy outline loom above the forecastle, the sudden movement of figures in her bows as the two ships drove together.
Above the din of gunfire and shouting he heard the sails jerking and banging, the wind lost to them, the ship already falling sluggishly abeam.
Herrick staggered in some blood and gasped, `No use! Can't grapple!'
Bolitho stared past him. The enemy was already edging ahead and across Undine's larboard bow, a few guns firing as she went, holding the wind and changing course very slightly while Undine floundered helplessly, her remaining sails almost aback.
She was going to rake Undine with every available gun, but give Bolitho time to haul down his colours before she reached his stern and finished what she had begun.
He felt Herrick tugging his arm.
`What now?'
Herrick pointed up through the smoke, where the sunlight was making a small path through the drifting smoke.
`The lookout, sir! He's reported a sail to the west'rd!' His eyes were shining with hope. `The Frenchman's making off!'
Bolitho looked at him dully. It was true, and he had heard nothing. Deafened by gunfire, or fogged in his own despair, he did not know. But the Argus was already spreading her mainsail and was driving down-wind with gathering power towards the open strait.
Bolitho said, `Hands to the braces, Mr. Herrick. Lay her on the larboard tack again. If we can signal this newcomer we may still be able to give chase.'
He heard a small cry, and when he turned he saw two seamen kneeling beside Keen's body. The midshipman was trying to reach down to his stomach, but one of the seamen was gripping his wrists while the other slit open his bloodstained breeches with a dirk and threw them aside. A few inches above the groin there was something like a broken bone, but Bolitho knew it was far worse. A wood splinter blasted from the deck, and probably held tight by its own barbs.
He knelt down and touched it with his fingers, seeing the blood pulsing across the youth's thigh, hearing his sobs as he tried not to scream.
Bolitho thought of Whitmarsh, far away in Pendang Bay,
helping to heal the sick and wounded from the garrison.
One of the seamen said, ''E'll not last, sir. without 'elp.
I'll fetch a surgeon's mate.'
Allday was kneeling beside him and said, `No. I'll do it.' Bolitho looked at him, seeing the determination on his face.
Then he turned and said, `Easy, Mr. Keen. You'll be about again soon.'
He felt the rising anger and despair pricking his eyes. What had he brought them all to? He touched the midshipman's bare shoulder. It was smooth like a woman's. He had not even begun to live yet.
He snapped, `Are you sure, Allday?'
The coxswain eyed him calmly. `I'm as good as those other butchers.'
Davy came hurrying aft and touched his hat. `Masthead has reported the other ship to be the Bedford, sir. The Frenchman must have thought her to be a man-of-war.'
He looked at Keen's wound and said hoarsely, `My God.' Bolitho stood up slowly, watching the midshipman's fingers
opening and closing like trapped animals in the seaman's strong grip.
`Very well, Allday. Take him aft to the cabin. I'll be down myself as soon as I've attended to things here.'
Allday looked at him. `Don't you fret, Captain. It's the luck of the game. Our turn will come.' He nodded to the two seamen. `Pick him up.'
Keen gave a sharp cry as they moved him to the cabin hatch, and before he vanished below Bolitho saw that his eyes were fixed unwinkingly on the sky above the tattered sails. Trying to hold on to it? So that by keeping the picture in his mind he might retain his life itself.
Bolitho bent and picked up the midshipman's dirk from the stained deck. He handed it to Davy and said, `We will make contact with the Bedford. There is nothing more we can do for the present but return to the settlement.'
Herrick said, `The old Bedford.' He sounded bitter. `A bloody storeship from Madras full of seasick soldiers and their womenfolk.'
Bolitho watched the helmsman bringing Undine carefully back on course, the skilful way they were allowing for the punctured sails' loss of power.
`If Argus had known that, she'd have done for both of us.' He saw the surprise and sudden concern and added simply, `But not before we had rendered her equally useless.'
He glanced aloft at the masthead pendant. How many times had he done that? He took out his watch and flicked open the guard. Remembering. The whole sea-fight had taken less than two hours, and already Argus was almost lost in the offshore haze which marked the coming of evening. He shaded his eyes to look for the Bedford, and saw her topsails on the horizon like small yellow shells.
Then he looked around at the splintered planking, the small line of corpses which had been dragged below the weather gangway. There was much to do, and he must not give way for an instant if his men were to keep the will to fight again if the time came. He saw another corpse being carried up from the forehatch, and knew he would have to deal with the reports of damage, arrange for replacements and repairs. And burials.
He heard another sharp cry through the cabin skylight, and thought of Keen being spreadeagled there while Allday tried to extract the splinter.
He said, `I am going below, Mr. Herrick. Deal with reports on damage and casualties.' He saw him nod. `Thank you.'
As he hurried below I-Herrick said quietly, `No. Thank .you.'
Bolitho brushed past the sentry at his door and then stopped. It was very quiet in the cabin, and when he saw Keen's naked body lying on the deck he thought he was too late.
Allday said, `All done, Captain.' He held up the jagged red. lump in some pincers. `I think he did very well, for a lad.'
Bolitho looked down at Keen's ashen face. There was blood on his lips where one of the seamen had held a s
trap between his teeth to prevent him from biting through his tongue. Noddall and' he other seamen were finishing tying the dressing around the wound, and there was a thick smell of rum in the
air.
Bolitho said quietly, `Thank you, Allday. I never knew you understood such things.'
Allday shook his head. `Did it to a sheep once. Poor thing fell down a cliff on to a broken sapling. Very much the same really.'
Bolitho walked to the stern windows and sucked in a lungful of air. `You must tell Mr. Keen that when he is well again.' He turned and watched him gravely. `Do you think he will fully recover?'
Allday nodded. `Yes. Another inch or so and it might have been the end.' He forced a grin, seeing the strain on Bolitho's face. `For the ladies, anyway!'
The door opened and Herrick said, `We are within signalling distance of Bedford, sir.'
'I'11 come up.' He paused and looked down at Keen. Even a glance told him his breathing was easier. `Casualties?'
Herrick dropped his eyes. `Ten killed, sir. Twenty wounded. It's a miracle we didn't lose far more. The carpenter and his mates are below, but it seems most of the holes are above the waterline. She's a lucky ship, sir.'
Bolitho looked from him to Allday. `I'm the lucky one.' Then he walked from the cabin.
Allday shook his head and sighed, releasing more rum into the smoke air.
`My advice is to leave him be, Mr. Herrick, sir.'
Herrick nodded. `I know. But he has taken this setback badly, though I know of no captain who could have done better.'
Allday dropped his voice. `But one captain did do better today. And ours'll not rest until he's met with him again, I'm thinking.'
Keen gave a soft moan and Allday snapped, `Come on, you idlers! Basin to his head! I've poured so much grog into his guts he'll spew all over the cabin when he comes to the surface again !'
Herrick smiled and walked out towards the ladder, seeing the men replacing the lashings on the guns, glancing at him and grinning as he passed.
Command a King's Ship Page 20
