Herrick said quietly, "Slavery does not begin or end here. I fear you will be ordered back to Freetown when you are available for duty. Small, fast vessels, and their lordships will have to provide them." He smiled again. "Eventually. I shall be leaving too, in the courier, for Spithead. We shall say our farewells today." tic doubled his hand into a fist and added, "Take heed. Lord Rhodes is still powerful, and he makes a had enemy." He dragged out his watch and opened the guard with some difficulty; his wrist seemed to be troubling him after his near accident at the entry port.
Adam waited, and imagined the aide loitering and bobbing beyond the screen door. He was leaving Freetown, and returning to something familiar, which he had trained himself to accept. But he had known Thomas Herrick long enough to be sure he had not come out to the ship merely to wish him well. Perhaps Unrivalled was the only venue where he felt safe. At liberty to speak.
Herrick said, "You're like him in many ways, you know. Headstrong, reckless… he was often like that." He stood up and looked for his hat.
Then he turned and stood beneath the scaled skylight, his face suddenly determined.
"In your report you wrote of the barque Osiris. We lost her this time, but in the end we shall meet up with her again. And there'll be others like her, while the pickings get richer." He looked slowly around the cabin, like someone who did not expect to see it again.
"I wronged Lady Somervell. I have tried to make good my ignorance, but I wronged her nonetheless. She was very dear to your uncle, and now I can understand why." He added with sudden bitterness, "Now that it's too late!"
Adam faced him by the desk. "Tell me."
"Osiris is a slaver, and she wears Spanish colours." He glanced at the screen door where a marine he had once known stood at yet another post. "But she plies her trade for a company in the City of London. Baron Sillitoe is the force behind it." He clenched his fist again. "His father built his empire on slaves, did you know that?"
There were shouts from on deck; another boat was coming alongside.
Adam could hardly believe what he had heard. Sillitoe, feared, respected, influential, a confidante of the Prince Regent, and his Inspector-General until recently. And Catherine had nobody else to protect her when she most needed it.
He said, "Thank you for telling me, sir. I will never forget."
Herrick examined his hat, as if he was glad he had unburdened himself.
"I wanted to tell you when we first met in this damnable hole!" He smiled, and it made him look incredibly sad. "Duty, remember?"
They left the cabin together, Napier wearing an expression of surprise, Herrick's lieutenant of relief.
As they passed the wardroom Herrick stopped, and saw Yovell stepping aside to lose himself in shadows.
He did not offer his hand, but said, "So you could not leave it either, eh? I wish you well."
Yovell watched them walk forward, towards the sunshine beyond the poop. The grey-haired rearadmiral, with one shoulder stooped against the constant pain, and Unrivalled's captain, like a young colt, Richard Bolitho had often said. So unlike one another, but the bond was there.
"God mind you," he said quietly. "But keep up your bright swords. " He shook his head. The coxswain was right, he was getting past it.
Herrick stood by the entry port as the governor's gilded barge was manoeuvred alongside. He saw Partridge with some of his seamen trying to conceal a boatswain's chair, in case he was unable to make the descent unaided.
He shook his head. "But thank you." He turned and looked up once more at the listless flag at the mizzen, then at the waiting officers and midshipmen, the scarlet-coated marines. No detail escaped him.
He held out his hand and said, "Short and sweet, how every flag officer's visit should be. Take good care, Adam. I shall think of you. And heed what I said. There are many enemies in our work. Not least is envy!"
He doffed his hat abruptly to the quarterdeck and walked to the entry port, where Jago was standing, vigilant but apparently unconcerned.
Galbraith watched the barge pulling away from Unrivalled's shadow and into the relentless glare.
Adam said, "Fall out guard and side party, Mr Galbraith." Their eyes met and he smiled. "Leigh."
Galbraith glanced again at the slow-moving barge. Herrick did not look back. Perhaps he dared not.
Adam said, "Come aft presently. We are to receive orders today."
When Commodore Turnbull has discovered their content.
He followed Galbraith's gaze and added, "There goes a part of the old navy, Leigh." He touched his arm and walked aft again. "None better!"
Captain James Tyacke pushed his servant to one side and finished tying his neckcloth himself.
"Don't fuss, Roberts! I have to see the commodore, not the Almighty!"
He looked into his hanging mirror and then at Adam, who was sitting in one of the cabin chairs with a glass in his hand. "Good of you to come aboard at such short notice, Adam." He seemed to hesitate over the name, as if he were not yet used to such informality. "I met up with Seven Sisters on passage here and spoke to her captain." He looked at him in the mirror again. "About this and that."
Adam smiled. He had watched Kestrel enter harbour, working her way slowly and expertly under minimum sail to where the guardboat loitered to mark her point to anchor.
He said, "I've received orders. To return to Plymouth." He heard the words drop into the silence; he had not yet accepted it, nor did he know his true feelings.
Tyacke nodded, buttoning his waistcoat. "So I heard. You know the navy-I expect the whole west coast knows about it by now!" He turned and regarded him thoughtfully. "I expect you'll be ordered to return here. One step at a time."
Adam noticed that Tyacke no longer betrayed any discomfort or self-consciousness. The devil with half a face, the slavers had called him when he had come to this station, and had welcomed its solitude. He had said more than once of Sir Richard Bolitho, he gave me back my self-respect, and whatever dignity I still possess. People still stared at the melted skin, his legacy from the Nile, young midshipmen dropped their eyes; others showed pity, the one thing Tyacke despised.
Adam had told him about Osiris, and what he had learned about her. Tyacke was like steel, and would never indulge in gossip, especially if it concerned, no matter how remotely, the reputation of Catherine, Lady Somervell.
While Adam sipped some wine Tyacke had shaved himself, waving his harassed servant aside with the razor. "If I can't shave my own face, I'm ready to go over the side!"
A difficult captain to serve, but he had the feeling that they thrived on it.
"All a long time ago, Adam. When it was fair and respectable to grow rich on slavery. Now, as controls grow even stronger, the price goes up, but it's still the same market." The eyes held his steadily. "I heard about Sillitoe's father-he made his fortune out of it. He's long dead, but the profits live on." He walked to the stern windows and back, his burned face in shadow, so that it was possible to glimpse the man who had been cut down that day, and had lost the girl he loved because of it. Now she wanted him back, and Tyacke had seen her, in the house she had shared with her late husband and the two children of her marriage.
All Tyacke had said was, "Never go back. Ships, places, people, they're never the same as you chose to remember."
Adam said, "What about you, James?"
"I'm content on this station. Probably the only one who is!" It seemed to amuse him. "But the work wants doing, and it needs men who care enough to do it without thinking all the while of prize-money and slave bounty." Then he took Adam's hand and said, "You're still finding your way, and the navy is going to he hard put to find good captains at the rate things are moving… I wish you luck, Adam. We both share the memory of the finest man who ever lived." I Iis eyes hardened. "And I'll not stand by and allow others to defame his lady!"