"Braces, there! More men on the weather braces, Mr. Jones! "
Above the deck each sail strained and cracked to its yard, and as more were set to build her into a great pyramid of canvas, Bolitho watched as the American appeared to forge across the bows.
"Steady she goes, sir! Nor'east by north! "
"Open the ports! Run out! "
With almost every sail set and hard-filled Valkyrie seemed to be charging towards the other ship. The bowsprit passed like a marker across Unity's mainmast, and still further until Bolitho saw the same quarterdeck as they steered for the American's high poop and glittering scrollwork.
Then the whole of the Unity's side seemed to explode in long angry flames, the gunsmoke fanning through the rigging like fog.
The weight of iron smashed into Valkyrie's bows and forecastle, up-ending some of the guns but causing few casualties, as most of the gun crews had been ordered to the larboard side ready to engage. Had she not altered course so quickly, more of the twenty-four pound balls would have found their mark.
But it was bad enough. Men ran dazed and bleeding, while others lay where they had been smashed down. Blood, corpses, pieces of men were scattered like gruel, while petty officers and lieutenants tried to restore order. Some shots had been aimed high, and already seamen were swarming aloft to repair the dangling tangles of severed rigging.
And there was Unity's high stern, the windows of her cabin shining brightly above Valkyrie's larboard bow like an ornate cliff.
Dyer the second lieutenant yelled, "Ready, lads! Fire as you bear! " Then he clapped his hands to his face and fell, and his place was taken by a terrified midshipman. The Americans were shooting from the taffrail, and great splinters rose like quills on the quarterdeck as the unseen marksmen saw the admiral's epaulettes.
Unity's maindeck guns were already being run out again, but if Beer could come around with the English frigate he would have to use his starboard guns. There would be no mercy from those great guns next time.
The jib-boom was already passing the American's stern. Bolitho could see the gilded lettering of her name on the counter, could almost hear Adam's voice describing it despite Trevenen's contemptuous doubt.
The great carronade, laid and prepared by the gunner himself, lurched back on its slide, and for what must have been only a split second Bolitho thought it had misfired. And then he saw the Unity's stern seem to open like a jagged cave. The carronade's great ball would explode within, releasing a hail of grape-shot to scythe throughout the full length of the ship.
"As you bear! Fire! "
Gun by gun down the Valkyrie's side each eighteen-pounder hurled itself inboard on its tackles. Not even a blind man could miss at this range. Almost every carefully supervised shot would rip through the other vessel's hull, which, like their own, would be cleared and open from stern to bow.
"Stop your vents! Sponge out! Load! Run out! "
Despite the fear and the pitiful screams of badly wounded men, the many hours of gun-drill and discipline held them all together.
A white-faced midshipman came to a halt, his feet slipping in blood as he saw Avery by the rail.
"Pardon, sir! " He winced as a ball slapped into the driver overhead. "The lookouts have sighted our ships! They are engaging the enemy! "
Avery said, "I shall tell the admiral. Thank you, Mr. Warren. Walk, if you please! "
Urquhart yelled, "The Yankee is not under command, sir! " His voice was cracking with disbelief.
"But she's still fighting! " Even as Avery spoke another ball smashed through some hammock nettings and tossed three marines aside like bloody bundles. One of Unity's nine-pounders, probably packed with grape and cannister shot.
The sailing master was down and one of his mates staggered to his place, his white trousers splashed with the master's own blood.
He called shakily, "Steady as she goes, sir! "
But Avery could see nothing but Allday, who was holding Bolitho against his own body as if to protect him.
Avery ran over to them. "What is it?"
He saw Allday's face twisted in anguish. "Splinters, sir! Send for the surgeon! "
They carried Bolitho gently to the foot of the mizzen mast.
He said hoarsely, "Splinters… in my face! " He gripped Avery's arm with terrible force. 7 can't see! "
He lowered his face into his hands. His eyes were tightly closed. Avery touched his cheek and could feel some of them, like tiny fish bones protruding from the skin.
The hull shook again to the roar of a full broadside, although few of Valkyrie's guns would still bear on their opponent. Avery barely noticed it. He looked up and saw Trevenen peering at them through the smoke.
"Is it bad?"
"He can't see, sir! "
Bolitho tried to get up but Allday held him firmly. "Get closer, Captain! Don't give him time…" He broke off, gasping with pain as he tried to open his eyes.
Trevenen snapped, "Sir Richard is wounded! Mr. Urquhart, stand by to disengage. That's an order! "
Avery stared at him. "You'd ran?"
Trevenen's confidence was flooding back.
"I command here! I said it would fail! Now Sir Richard has only himself to blame! "
A figure in a bloodied apron hurried across the deck. It was not Minchin but his assistant, Lovelace.
Trevenen shouted, "Take Sir Richard below. He has no place here! "
"Who says so, damn you! "
Avery stared as another figure came through the companion hatch, teeth bared against the pain of his severed arm. From a distance it might appear that Herrick was grinning. He stared slowly around at the litter of battle, the dead and dying, and lastly at the corpses of the marines, lying in disorder like the ones who had fought to the end aboard his old flagship.
His eyes took in the American frigate, which was drifting further and further downwind, while some of the small vessels she had been escorting headed away as if Unity contained something evil.
Then he said, The Yankee will not trouble us again, not this time in any case. We will rejoin our ships without further delay." He closed his eyes tightly as if to control the pain.
Trevenen was staring at him, wild with disbelief.
"What are you saying? I am in command…" He got no further.
Herrick took a pace towards him. "You command nothing. You are relieved, and I'll send you to hell for your bloody treachery! Now get off this deck! "
Trevenen hesitated as if to protest, then, almost blindly, he turned and walked to the companion hatch. He had to push and thrust his way through his men, the same men who had once been afraid even to meet his eyes. Now they watched him in silence, without fear, only contempt.
Herrick ignored him. "You, Urquhart or whatever your bloody name is can you sail this ship?"
The first lieutenant nodded like a puppet, his face blanched but determined after what he had witnessed.
"I can, sir."
Then do it. We shall rejoin our ships. They will be hard put just now! "
One of the surgeon's loblolly boys came to support Herrick but he shook him away angrily and tugged his dress coat more firmly around his shoulders. "See to the others, damn you! "
Bolitho lay stiffly across Allday's knees, and almost cried out as Lovelace's strong fingers prised open his eye and applied a soft dressing and some stinging ointment, while the other battle raged on in the distance as if it were not real.
What he had always dreaded had happened. With neither warning nor mercy, as it had happened to the men who were even now being dragged below to the hell of Minchin's surgery. How could he go to Catherine now? How could he even consider it?
Lovelace said, "Hold him firmly, Allday." Then he carefully turned Bolitho's face towards the strengthening sunlight and stared into his eye with fierce concentration. He said, "Look up, Sir Richard."
Bolitho opened his eye and felt Allday tense as he stared past him. For an instant there was only mist and drifting flecks of blood. Then things stood out in separate, unmatched images. Herrick in his shining rear-admiral's epaulettes, gripping the rail with his hand while he peered at something beyond the torn and bloodied hammock nettings. The boy-midshipman on whose shoulder he had steadied the telescope, staring down at him, sobbing noiselessly as the guns fell silent. Further still, to the severed rigging and punctured sails, a marine in the maintop waving his hat in the air. To whom, he wondered vaguely.