Game of Bones

by David Donachie

  Adept at keeping his own counsel, James was not about to be drawn, even if he knew full well what he was alluding to. Harry had known many women in his time, the transitory nature of a sailor’s life generally proof against too deep an attachment. But in New Orleans he’d met Hyacinthe, a beautiful Creole, half French, half Negro. His infatuation was so quick, and so profound, that he’d promised to bring her back to England, quite prepared to cock a snook at anyone who was troubled by her dubious past. James had counselled caution himself, the memory of which provided an extra impetus for him to change the subject. But Harry beat him to it.

  ‘Did I ever talk to you about a man called Nelson?’

  ‘If you have, I don’t recall it.’

  Harry was looking over the side, so James couldn’t see the look in his eyes. But the voice was evidence enough that he was upset.

  ‘It sounds strange now, but he used to be something of a hero to me.’

  ‘I never knew you had one, brother.’

  Harry turned round, James looking away abruptly so as not to react to the wetness around his brother’s eyes. ‘At a certain age, doesn’t everyone? He was a post-captain when I met him, with a list of exploits as long as your arm. Brave, I think, to the point of foolhardiness, the best man with a crew I’ve ever seen. His men adored him. He’s a commodore now, top of the captain’s list, soon to hoist his admiral’s flag. And, guess what? He’s gone and won a fleet action that’s made him the hero of the nation. Whatever luck I’ve had, it doesn’t extend to that.’

  This was a side of Harry new to James. All the regret for what he’d lost by leaving the navy was in his face. He didn’t have to say that a kinder fate might have put him in the midst of the battle he’d just mentioned, given him a chance of the glory he’d openly craved for as a serving officer, and stifled ever since. But James knew that to indulge his brother would do nothing to solve their very pressing difficulties.

  ‘This is no time for prattling about luck, Harry. What we need now is not wishful thinking but a clear head.’

  Harry looked up, giving James a wan smile, before he turned his attention towards the waist. He could still see, in the glim, the party of sailors Rykert had put aboard, sprawled on the gangways either side of the ship’s boats. He’d racked his brain for a way to outwit them since they’d followed him on to the deck, but nothing presented itself short of violence, which would bring the whole weight of the Admiralty down on their heads. They would face arrest wherever they landed. Staying afloat, even in a seaworthy vessel, would make them fair game for every ship in the fleet.

  ‘I asked Levenson to dinner, which he declined. He must be the only midshipman in the entire fleet who won’t sell his soul for an extra ship’s biscuit.’

  ‘You would have plied him with drink, no doubt?’ asked James, happy to see that in considering the problem Harry had changed from his previous mood.

  ‘Indeed. I would have had him insensible. But it is not to be. Rykert has chosen well. When I pointed out to him that a guard on the spirit-room might be advantageous, given that the crew, in despair, would very likely seek solace in drink, he gave me the most superior smile.’

  Harry’s voice changed, to mimic that of young Levenson, who looked to be no more than fourteen. ‘Captain Rykert expressly pointed out that such a request was to be refused. That we were to take station by the boats, and stay there till daylight, without accepting hospitality or advice.’

  ‘He anticipated you.’

  ‘Don’t play chess with Rykert, James. The man’s a damned wizard. He’s certainly checkmated me this time. Mind, Julius always was a clever cove, though one that could never quite hide his light under a bushel. That’s got him into hot water on more than one occasion. If there is one thing a senior officer hates it is to be hauled up short by a junior, especially if that person has the right of it. I wouldn’t say I’ve observed him forced to grovel, but I have seen him struck mighty low.’

  ‘It does a man no harm to have his pride dented occasionally.’

  ‘I suppose not,’ Harry replied, quite deliberately ignoring the irony.

  ‘Which brings us to the subject of Pender.’ Harry groaned, which confirmed to James that he knew, deep down, just how much he’d offended the man. ‘It must be done, Harry, and I for one am prepared to tell you so. I have no idea of what will happen tomorrow. You may well return to the same bilious state in which you have subsisted for the last six weeks.’

  ‘There’s no need for actual words with Pender.’

  ‘I think you might be surprised,’ said James, taking his arm and pulling him aft.

  In the event, Harry was proved right, though the artist in James could not help but be fascinated by the silent exchange. Both faces, stiff at first, eased imperceptibly, as Pender picked up the changed mood. Harry likewise realised that he would not actually have to speak about the recent past, which relaxed him further. It seemed only minutes before their relationship was back on a normal footing.

  ‘I had hoped to get all of you away in the boats. God knows we’ve got enough, what with Illingworth’s as well. There are any number of places to land between Eastney, Hayling Island, and Selsey Bill.’

  ‘It can’t be done without violence, Capt’n, an’ it ain’t just that midshipman. I suggested to some of his men, quiet like, that they partake of a bit o’ rum. Would you believe that they are to a man temperance Methodists?’

  ‘I think it’s important that the men don’t despair, Pender. There’s many a slip betwixt cup and lip, and Rykert is as exposed to the truth of that old saw as any man.’

  ‘If’n they hear you say it, I dare say it might go some way to mollifyin’ them.’

  Harry squirmed slightly. ‘Surely you can tell them, Pender.’

  James couldn’t resist making Harry even more uncomfortable. ‘It’s beneath a captain’s dignity to apologise, Pender. I should have thought you would have known that. They are like gods upon their quarterdeck, masters of all that they survey.’

  ‘That’s unfair, brother.’

  ‘I fear I must wound you further, Harry, by telling you that in your behaviour these past weeks, if not your general demeanour, it is anything but.’

  Pender, reminded of how he’d suffered, continued in a harsh voice. ‘They need to know their shares are safe, an’ all, Capt’n. They like wealth they can touch. That bargain you struck in New York has got some of ’em rattled.’

  That actually made Harry wince, especially since he’d added to the value of their shares by what was, in effect, a loan to the struggling government of the young republic, desperately short of coin to transact necessary business. And the money had a history. Because of the way it had been acquired it might be difficult to explain away if landed in England. So much better to invest beyond the reach of a grasping British Government. And as for coin, he’d retained ten per cent of the total and promised them their shares and wages to be paid from his own resources as soon as they touched their home shore.

  ‘They think I’d cheat them?’

  Tempted to drive home the nail, Pender gave Harry a baleful look. But then he relented and softened his tone. ‘It’s one or two, your honour. An’ I’ve said it before, since I don’t recall you hiring them for the size of their brains, that’s all it takes to get the rest worked up.’

  ‘You’d best lead on, Pender.’ As he reached the cabin door he turned back to James. ‘We will need to ask Captain Illingworth to supper.’

  ‘Another apology within the same hour!’ said James, with feigned surprise. ‘This is worthy of an underlined entry in the ship’s log.’

  Harry frowned, finding the notion unwelcome. ‘The mere invitation should suffice for that. Ask Willerby to get some toasted cheese going. And tell him I want the smell of it to spread right across the deck. Levenson might be a paragon, but I’ve yet to meet the mid who could pass up toasted cheese for supper.’

  Following behind, James heard Harry’s next words to Pender.

  ‘If
we can get him away, don’t offer those Methodists a drink. Offer them the chance to desert, with enough money once they get ashore to pay their passage home and build a damned chapel if they so desire.’

  He couldn’t help smiling. Though it would very probably fail, such a turn of mind, and the way he’d displayed it to Pender, was very like the Harry Ludlow of old.

  The wind had hitherto favoured them, but it swung round to the north-west during the night, forcing Rykert to proceed at Harry’s pace. As a naval officer he could command many things, but not the speed at which the crew of Bucephalas tacked and wore in a vessel that had every reason to be slow. These were men in no hurry to make a landfall, and they took a savage delight in the way their actions continually forced both frigates into extra, tiring manoeuvres, which kept the watch on duty in the rigging.

  Levenson was rocklike in his determination not to disobey his commander, so that when dawn broke, he had to fight to contain the hunger which seemed to shrink his stomach. Dry biscuit washed down with water was no good to a growing lad. But his men had fared no better, and the shared deprivation seemed heroic. He felt almost saintlike in his fortitude, conjuring up images of Sisyphus and his rock. The smells that had wafted out of the galley seemed to linger in his nose. Yet he’d withstood temptation through the long night hours, refusing both coffee and toasted cheese, eventually seeing in the captain of the Lothian, sent to offer him hot spiced rum to ward off the cold, the image of a beguiling devil.

  The youngster was frozen to the marrow, tired, and very near to being depressed. But the growing light showed land on the larboard side of the ship, and through the mist he thought he could just see the rocky shores and sandy bays of the Isle of Wight. Harry Ludlow, unable to tempt Levenson to partake of his hospitality, had nevertheless pumped him for information about the fleet and his captain. In return he was exposed to a reprise of Jervis’s action off Cape St Vincent. The breathless way the youngster spoke reminded Harry of his own previous self, which made listening to the story more bearable. He rose somewhat in the youngster’s estimation when he told him that he actually knew Nelson, who was now clearly, in the eyes of the whole British navy, the only man worthy of praise.

  ‘He disobeyed the fighting instructions by pulling out of the line,’ said Levenson eagerly. ‘Isn’t that just the most amazing thing. And Old Jarvie refused to reprimand him.’

  ‘Sometimes it is the right thing to do,’ said Harry, faintly hopeful, ‘disobeying orders.’

  ‘Only to achieve a victory, Captain,’ replied Levenson, the enthusiasm disappearing from his demeanour, to be replaced by stiff formality. ‘We shall raise St Helen’s soon.’

  ‘Eight line-of-battle ships!’ shouted Pender from aloft, his telescope pointing north, ‘and three admiral’s pennants. No frigates or sloops.’

  ‘Bridport’s our only hope,’ said Harry, to Illingworth.

  ‘You’ve only got that youngster’s word regarding that situation,’ the merchant captain replied, his voice full of doubt.

  Harry turned to look at him, wondering whether he would have cause to regret the way he eased in his behaviour. This act opened him up to a steady flow of unwelcome advice, with Illingworth taking it upon himself to interfere in conversations that were none of his business. But Harry, knowing he would soon be gone, resisted the temptation to check him.

  ‘Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings,’ he answered, pointing to Levenson.

  Rykert, it transpired, was a client officer of Lord Howe, the titular commander-in-chief of the Channel Fleet. Since Black Dick, old and gouty, spent all of his time taking the waters in Bath, Lord Bridport had the unenviable task of conducting operations without the benefit of the supreme office. Needless to say, there was little love lost between the two senior officers, something which Harry might be able to exploit, especially since he and Bridport were acquainted.

  The admiral knew that Harry had the control of two parliamentary seats, would deduce that in these troubled times such an asset was highly valued by a government which often only scraped a majority. The captain of the Amethyst might find himself rapped over the knuckles for daring to interfere with the lawful progress of a privateer captain who appeared to have the ear of Henry Dundas. It was slim hope, but the only one Harry had available, especially since his last meeting with the admiral had been anything but friendly.

  ‘Boat pulling towards Amethyst. In a hellfire hurry too.’

  Harry shifted his telescope to pick it up. The early morning haze was lifting slowly, giving greater definition to the seascape. And the sun, a silver orb, was beginning to show through the fog. Very faintly, Harry could see the outline of a capital ship, lying at the southern edge of the anchorage.

  ‘Thank God the fleet is still here,’ he said, before turning his attention back to the approaching boat.

  The officer in the stem was waving madly, and hailing the frigate with the aid of a speaking trumpet, while his men, who seemed to be marines, pulled at their oars as though they were being pursued by Lucifer. The sudden sight of Amethyst luffing up had Harry shouting rapid orders for Bucephalas to do likewise and avoid running foul of her stern. As soon as he did so, Precise ran alongside, cutting off the route to the open sea.

  ‘Can anybody hear what that officer in the boat is saying?’ Harry called forward.

  ‘I think he’s trying to tell him the fleet’s not here, Capt’n,’ replied Flowers.

  ‘His eyes will tell him that’s untrue,’ said Pender, who’d slid down to the deck and was now pointing north to the anchored ships slowly emerging from the mist.

  ‘Perhaps the French have invaded,’ said Illingworth.

  ‘Nothing’s impossible,’ said Harry. ‘Young Levenson said something about trouble in Ireland. The French got all the way to Bantry Bay last autumn without being intercepted. Bridport was seriously compromised by that. It was only luck that they didn’t land and make matters worse. Practically the whole French fleet got back to Brest intact.’

  ‘Is that good for us, or bad?’ asked James, who’d come up behind Harry and Pender.

  Harry turned round and grinned. ‘I’d say good, brother. An admiral in trouble is so much more malleable than one who’s just been successful.’

  ‘I think I preferred you when you were a pessimist,’ James replied. ‘The last time you met Bridport, I seem to remember you were less than entirely polite.’

  James was right. With half his crew pressed into a man-of-war, and their captain desperate to get them back, Harry had very nearly threatened Bridport, something which no man, high or low, enjoys.

  ‘I’m sure he’s forgotten all about it, brother.’

  ‘Captain Ludlow.’ Rykert’s voice boomed across the water. Harry saw him, wrapped in a boatcloak, standing by the taffrail of Amethyst, speaking trumpet in hand. ‘I am required to return forthwith to my station off the Goulet.’

  ‘Brest,’ said Harry, for James’s benefit.

  ‘However, I intend that my midshipman should stay aboard with you till you’re abreast of Southsea Castle. Their guard boats will see you through the narrows into Portsmouth harbour. I myself will escort you past the St Helen’s anchorage. Mr Levenson, I will send two boats for you. As soon as that is done, please bring back with you the men from the Lothian. Steer straight, Ludlow. And remember I have the right to sink any vessel I consider a hazard to shipping.’

  ‘No, you don’t, Rykert,’ said Harry under his breath.

  ‘What have you got in mind, Captain?’

  ‘As soon as he puts up his helm, so will we. If his orders are to take him to Brest, then he won’t hang around to keep us bottled up in Portsmouth.’

  ‘What about them guard boats?’

  ‘Manned by junior officers, Pender. I might not be able to play the high and mighty with Rykert. But I think I can ignore a mere lieutenant, especially one that has any hope of one day being a post-captain. Likewise Levenson. James, ask Dreaver to get out the charts for the Solent and the Hamble
. There’s a dozen dockyards between here and the Needles that will be able to mend our hull and furnish us with a new mast.’

  ‘Capt’n,’ said Pender, who’d put his telescope back to his eye while Harry was talking to his brother. ‘There’s something right odd about the ships’ flags. And the rigging.’

  ‘Which ship?’ asked Harry.

  ‘All of ’em. The whole fleet.’

  The pale, early morning sun, now well above the horizon, had turned from silver to gold affecting everything it touched. Even the black sides of the ships of the Channel Fleet were altered as the shiny paint on their massive hulls reflected the light. To a landsman’s eye they might all look alike, different merely in the number of their decks, but to Harry each was familiar, and the sight of these massive vessels always moved him. He’d served in some of them and seen the rest in harbours all over the world, could pick out the differences in their figureheads and stern decoration. Had he stayed in the navy he might even have been in command of one by now.

  Queen Charlotte was there, along with Royal Sovereign. A sweep of the glass showed him Pompey and Ramillies, both of which he’d served in. He lifted his telescope from elaborate giltedged carving to look at the masts, searching for the pennants that would identify the ranks of the various senior officers. The sharp intake of breath as he made sense of what he saw caused Pender to speak.

  ‘Plain red at the mizzen, every one of them.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ asked James.

  ‘They fly that when they go into battle,’ said Illingworth.

  ‘They’re not even cleared for action,’ said Harry. ‘They’re not going into battle.’

  ‘Yard ropes are reeved,’ said Pender, ‘and some of the ships are dressed in red bunting. One or two have nooses rigged at the main, an’ all. And there seems a rate of ship visiting going on judging by the number of boats in the water.’

  Harry’s voice rose suddenly, and he shouted towards the waist. ‘Mr Levenson, gather your men by the gangway, if you please. I will not be entering Portsmouth harbour, as requested. I shall of course provide you with a boat to take you back to Amethyst.’