Command a King`s Ship

Herrick moved towards the door. 'It is not what I was expecting, sir.'

'Nor I. But like it or not, we have a duty. If Muljadi and his threat is to be overcome, then he must be seen as a common pirate.' He ran his hands along the desk top. 'Argots or no!'

Herrick hurried out, his thoughts tugging in several directions at once. He found IVIudge in the wardroom staring gloomily at a plate of salt beef.

The master asked, 'Are we off again, Mr. 'Errick?'

Herrick smiled. Fact soon grew from rumour in a small ship.

'Yes. The Argus is busy here, it seems. As a privateer, and not openly in the name of France.'

Mudge yawned. Unimpressed. 'Nothin' new. We used to do the same for the Company in India. A few ready muzzles always seemed to impress a doubtin' rajah if a little strength was called for.'

Herrick looked at him and sighed. 'So the Frogs will back an armed uprising, and we will support the protection of trade. But what of the people in between, Mr. Mudge?'

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!'

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!'

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.