'Larboard battery, point your guns! – Fire! Fire! Fire!'
The stuttering roar of guns from the southward ship was interrupted by the tremendous shocks through her timbers of Expedient's own great guns, and explosions of flame along her side.
B-BOOM B-BOOM B-BOOM B-BOOM
Concussive, deafening, thudding, and the deck beneath Rennie's feet trembled and shook. The captain sniffed in a deep breath, smelling fiery smoke, and:
'That is more like it! Now we are in the fight!'
*
In the second boat, following Expedient's pinnace, Lieutenant Hayter heard the thudding of guns beyond the rocky islets, and saw the flashes against the sky. He ordered the boat brought level with the pinnace, and brought alongside. He jumped into the pinnace, and consulted with Lieutenant Leigh, both crews resting on their oars. The royal party remained huddled together, their faces hidden, protected by their guard and apparently wishing to take no part in the proceedings, other than to be brought to safety. James doffed his hat briefly in their direction, purely as a formality, and to the lieutenant:
'Evidently the boats coming inshore ahead of you in the pinnace were a cutting-out party from a ship, Mr Leigh. Don't y'think so?'
'A ship that now engages Expedient.' Grimly, a nod.
'Well, there is no purpose in proceeding without lights any longer. We are damned lucky to have got this far among the shoals and rocks without coming to grief.'
'Yes, very well, Hayter.' He was about to give the order, then: 'Ought not we to keep well clear of the action, though? With such a valuable party under our care?'
James thought a moment, took a breath, and: 'Yes, you are right. In fact, we had perhaps better anchor here, while we are still sheltered by the islets, and keep our lights doused.'
'Very well.'
When the anchors had been deployed, James:
'Are these swivels loaded, Mr Leigh?' Indicated the swivel guns fore and aft, slotted into the gunwales.
'Aye, we reloaded as soon as they had been fired at the beach.'
'Very good. We may need them should we encounter other boats.'
'Other boats?'
'I think there may well be more than one ship attacking Expedient. You hear the sequence of guns? There's three patterns of broadside, all distinct.'
'I had not noticed. I was busy with the marks, you know, as lead boat.' Meaning the soundings they had been taking with the lead in the bow to determine the depth of water under them.
'And if there's other boats scattered about, sent out from these ships, we may have to fight an action of our own.'
'Here, among the rocks? At anchor?'
'Nay, when we venture out to go aboard Expedient – or in least attempt it. Dawn ain't far off, and we cannot hide here for ever.'
A further pattern of thuds and flashes beyond.
'If Expedient ain't bested.' Lieutenant Leigh, subdued and solemn. 'If she ain't.'
'Damnation to that. If I know anything about Captain Rennie he will never be bested at sea. Ain't a finer tactician in ship-handling and gunnery, in the navy entire. Perhaps y'don't know that, Mr Leigh.'
'I meant only that if she is attacked on all sides, Mr Hayter.' Stiffly, using 'mister' for the first time. 'I meant no disloyalty to Captain Rennie, that you clearly know better than I.'
'He will not sit and wait, you know, to be caught between two attacking ships. He will twist and turn, and take the wind gage, and fall upon them instead.'
'Wind gage? There is scarcely even a waft of breeze.' More than a hint of acerbity.
'We are all tired, no doubt.' James, lowering his voice. 'We had better not bicker like a pair of middies, and discourage our people. Hey? When we reflect on what we are about, after all?'
'Very well, Hayter.' Unbending a little, his own voice instinctively lowered.
'Will you tell me your given name again? I have forgot it.'
'It is Merriman. Merriman Leigh.'
'And how d'y'like to be called?'
'Oh, Leigh will do, you know.'
'Not Merriman? Or Merry?'
'Certainly not Merry, good God. It makes me sound like ten kinds of damned fool.'
James smiled in the darkness. 'Very well. Not Merry.'
'At my school I was called Mabel, of all things.'
'Mabel?'
'Aye, you see? Bloody foolish, altogether.'
'Why Mabel?'
'My middle name is Able. Merriman Able. Mabel.'
'Ahh. Yes. Then I had best not call'ee that, hey?'
'I should be obliged if ye didn't.'
'Plain Leigh?'
'Plain Leigh suits me very well.' A moment, and: 'Will you tell me ... who was the other passenger you looked for on the beach, but did not find?'
'A lady.'
'Ah. Was she—'
From beyond, interrupting this exchange, a further series of bright, flickering flashes against the sky, followed by many thudding, booming concussions, echoing and reverberating through the rocky islets.
'If I am not mistook, they have reached the decisive moments of the action.' James, half to himself, hunched beside Lieutenant Leigh in the stern sheets.
'I have changed my mind, Hayter. Could not we proceed a little further? And find a safe place to watch?'
'Without great risk to our cargo?'
'Aye.'
'Even if there's other boats?'
'They will not see us if we are careful, and stay hid behind rocks.'
James glanced toward the huddled royal party. 'I do not think we may take that risk, however small.'
'Good heaven, Hayter, ain't the whole business an enormous risk, anyway? What difference can it make to proceed a little way and see how the action goes? Don't it benefit us, in fact, to have a look?'
'Benefit?'
'Indeed, if Captain Rennie is gaining the upper hand, will not we all the sooner be able to get aboard Expedient – if we know that he is?'
A nod, a quick breath. 'Yes, all right. Let us weigh and proceed to the last rocky islet and wait there to observe the outcome. Pray God it is the right one.'
'Come, Hayter, I thought ye had absolute confidence in Captain Rennie?'
'I am not God, though.'
'Amen.'
*
The first faint glimmer of dawn, and now Rennie was assailed by a conflicting combination of emotions. He could see his enemy, two ships, one a corvette to the south, the other a frigate to the north, both of them nearly a mile distant, licking their wounds and waiting to move in for the kill. He could see the damage to his own ship, and the drying, crusting rivulets of blood on the decking, half absorbed by strewn sand and fallen canvas. He could see to the sou'-west a gathering of the glassy surface of the sea into ruffles of movements – the wind was rising. He could see how he might best these two vessels, if his luck held, and the repairs to his rigging. He could see the expressions on the faces of his people. They were exhausted, and hungry, and thirsty too, in spite of the boys he had kept running in relays from gun to gun with cans of water during the hours of repeated firing, the guns bouncing in their tackles, burning hot and dangerous to the naked hand. These men had lost shipmates, had seen them fall and been unable to help them, had watched them bleed and gasp away their lives on the gritty, powder-blasted deck in the fury and din of action, their own duty wholly bound up in the survival of their ship. A duty not yet done with, not yet completed, that stared at them in the nascent light – two ships blackresolved to smash their own and kill them where they stood, handspikes and rammers and tackles in hand. Rennie felt both sad and elated – the deep sadness of loss, and the harsh elation of purpose.
'By God, I am proud of my people.' Under his breath. He strode to the tafferel, sucked in a lungful of morning air, and exhaled. Turned, strode forrard to the breast-rail, and went down the ladder into the waist. Looking about him, lifting his voice to carry along the gundeck:
'Now we have them, lads! The wind is rising, and we shall have the advantage!
We will smash that bloody little corvette, and then we will have at that damned frigate, and riddle her arse until she begs for mercy! We shall prevail! So let me hear you now, lads! What are we called?'
A ragged, exhausted cry: 'Expedients ...'
'All the gunnery has made me a little deaf this morning! I cannot quite hear you! What are we called!'
'Expedients!'
'Aye, Expedients all! And today, here and now, as dawn breaks over us – we are the Royal Navy, just as sure as if we was an entire fleet at sea! And by God we will teach those who fire upon an English man-of-war to rue the day their mothers gave them life!' He lifted his hat high over his head. 'Three cheers for England, and King George!'
'Huzzay! Huzzay! Huzzay!' Ragged, but heartfelt.
'Mr Loftus!'
Bernard Loftus limped to the breast-rail above. 'Sir?'
'A double ration of grog for every man!' Further cheers.
'Aye, sir.' The master's hat off and on. Rennie returned to his quarterdeck, up the ladder.
'The rum unwatered if they wish it, Mr Loftus.' Lowering his voice a little.
'Unwatered, sir? Half a pint of rum unwatered?'
'You heard me right, Mr Loftus. Unwatered. I want them fierce lifted up when we come to fight for our lives. Make it so, if y'please.'
'Very good, sir.'
'Mr Abey!' His hand on the breast-rail, above a sand bucket.
Richard Abey appeared below him, his face, hat and coat covered in powder grime. The left sleeve of his coat had been partly torn off the first fire, and now he looked very bedraggled.
'Sir?'
'Are you all right, Mr Abey?'
'Oh, yes, sir.' Climbing the ladder.
'I am going to attack those two ships by beating west into the wind.' Nodding at each ship, then pointing west. 'They will think – both French commanders – that I am running away fearful in the dawn, which is just what, I want them to believe. When we have tacked west half a glass I will come about and run sou'-east straight at the corvette, which is marginally closer to us, and will thus be our first design. When we are within pistol shot I will swing east, and we will then rake her with our starboard battery at point blank. You apprehend me?'
'Starboard broadside, point blank. Very good, sir.'
'You must aim your guns at such an angle on the sprung breeching ropes that we concentrate our fire on her gunports and shatter them, knock her great guns off their carriages, and kill men. You will then reload with grape.'
'Grape, sir?'
'Aye, you heard me right. By now the frigate will be bearing down, and, will seek to smash us in turn. But I will not permit her commander to do it. I will now tack nor'-east, straight at him. We will go head to head, and we, Mr Abey, will have the wind.'
'Aye, sir.' Nodding, beginning to understand the sheer audacity of the plan.
'If I am not mistook, he will break first. He will tack east or west, it don't matter which. As soon as he does we will have him, because the manoeuvre will cost him speed. We will go straight at him as he tacks, and again fire our starboard battery at a severe angle, rake his deck with grape, smash his rigging, and kill men. We will then cross his stern, Mr Abey, and riddle his backside with our larboard battery, double-shotted. That will smash his rudder, and render him helpless. And by God we will have no fucking mercy, come that moment! D'y'hear me?'
'Yes, sir.' Lifting his head.
'Very well. Return to your duty, Mr Abey.'
'Very good, sir.' His hat obediently off and on, and he ran down the ladder.
Rennie peered about him. 'Mr Tangible!'
The boatswain appeared, limping along the larboard gangway from the fo'c's'le. He too had been wounded the first fire, had been taken into the orlop by the surgeon Dr Wing, and been sufficiently patched and restored to come on deck and supervise repair. His face now showed both extreme fatigue, after the rigours of the night, and pain.
'I am here, sir.'
'You are hurt, Roman Tangible.' Concern in his voice. 'I had not realised you was injured so severe ...'
'Splinters, sir, damn' flying splinters.'
'Your leg?'
'Both of my legs, in truth. Howsomever, I regard myself as lucky.'
'Lucky!'
'Aye, sir, when so many others was wounded very horrible, and the doctor unable to attend to them before they perished, in the heat of battle. I am a lucky man, that can still walk and talk, and do my duty.'
'Well said, well said. Here, take a pull.' Rennie handed him his flask, and the boatswain took a long, grateful draught.
'Thankee, sir, most welcome.' Handing it back. Rennie took a pull himself, and thrust the flask away in his coat.
'And now we must make sail, Mr Tangible. We have hot work to do this day.'
The first burning gleams of the sun showed over the rocky coastline in the east, and the two French ships began to make their converging run at Expedient in the lifting wind, as the calls piped echoing across her deck.
TWELVE
In the event Rennie's plan did not go according to his wishes. In fact it did not proceed beyond its formulation in his head, and its explication to his acting third, Mr Abey. 'Anything may happen at sea' is an axiom well known to seamen, from the lowliest idler to the Admiral of the Fleet. It was well known to Captain Rennie, and one he was fond of iterating at dinner, or upon his quarterdeck, or indeed anywhere and at any time it occurred to him. It occurred to him now, as the corvette, far from chasing him as he had hoped, instead swung north and made herself the frigate's close companion on the sea. And then both French ships began to come directly at Rennie, even as he came about to give himself the wind gage.
'God damn and blast those bloody duplicitous Frenchie villains!'
'Sir?' Mr Loftus.
'You see what they are about, the fucking wretches!'
'Yes, sir, I do.' Holding his glass. 'But there is—'
'They mean to flank me, one on either side, and blow me to kingdom bloody come!'
'There is another ship, sir.' Pointing.
'What!'
'Coming up from the south, sir. I think she—'
'From the south?' Raising his own glass. 'Am I to be dogged by every damned ship in the French navy, for Christ's sake!'
'I think she ain't of the same French navy, sir.'
'Eh?' Peering.
'You will see her colours are white, entire. On the corvette and the frigate closing upon us, their colours are white with a red, white and blue canton on the hoist. The colours adopted by the French navy a year since. That means that the attacking ships are loyal to the revolution, don't it, sir, and the—'
'And the ship to the south ain't, by God! You are right, Mr Loftus. I believe she comes to aid us. Hey?'
'That is my opinion, sir.'
'How d'y'make her out? A frigate, would y'say?'
'A corvette, I should say.' Lowering his glass, then raising it and focusing it again. 'Yes, a corvette.'
'Then we are evenly matched against the others – if she does in fact join us, and ain't just shamming.'
'There is a simple way to discover that, sir.'
'Aye, Mr Loftus, there is.'
And presently Expedient swung to the south, to meet the oncoming corvette. Who hailed her as Expedient came within pistol shot, one glass after, close-hauled on the larboard tack.
'La frégate anglaise!' An officer in the bow, with a speaking trumpet. 'Mettrez en panne!'
Glancing to the north, Rennie ordered his ship hove to. The yards were braced, foresails aback, and she rapidly lost way as she came abreast of the French ship, which had already hove to. This was a risk for both ships, given the pursuit of the two ships from the north, but in Rennie's view a risk worth taking if he had found a true ally.
Richard Abey, as the only quarterdeck speaker of French, was summoned to act as interpreter, as the two ships spoke. He listened, and then translated:
'They are the corvette La Fidélité. They ask, have we the king aboard
, sir?'
'We have not, say to them.' Rennie. 'We have had to fight the two ships now bearing down on us, through the night, and have had no time for anything else.'
Presently: 'They ask: do we wish them to assist us?'
'In what sense?'
The question put, and answered, and Richard Abey:
'In action, sir. They oppose the revolution, and wish to aid the king's escape.'
'Ask them, right quick, how they know of the king's attempt to escape.'
Again the question asked, and the reply made.
'They say they have been sent to aid us by the king's loyal friends, and they ask where the king is located at present.'
Rennie, quietly: 'That answer puzzles me, Mr Abey. If they have been sent by the king's friends, why do not they know where he is? Say that we don't know anything, that we await instruction.' And as Richard Abey raised the speaking trumpet to make the response, Rennie turned and:
'Mr Loftus?'
'Sir?' By Rennie's side.
'Pass the word, very quiet and discreet, fore and aft, that we will get under way in two minutes. The signal shall be when I take off my hat.'
'Very good, sir.' And he beckoned a boy.
As Mr Abey finished translating Rennie's reply to the French ship, Rennie spoke to him very low and earnest.
'Now then, Mr Abey. When I tap you on the shoulder y'will slip down the ladder to the gundeck and instruct your larboard divisions by quiet word of mouth to point their guns at the corvette's mainmast. The moment you see me lift my hat at the breast-rail you are to open fire.'
'Fire at the corvette, sir? This corvette?'
'Aye, Richard, this one. They ain't our friends, I fear, nor King Louis's neither. I want to snap her mainmast our first fire, and then we will break off the engagement at once, go about, and straight at the advancing ships. Straight at 'em, and pass between them, firing both batteries simultaneous. You have me? You see what I am about?'
'Aye, sir.' A quick nod.
'Very well. Thank La Fidélité very polite, bow to them and so forth. And then go down the ladder and wait for my signal.'
'Your signal – your hat. Very good, sir.'
The Gathering Storm Page 18
