'Any sign yet, sir?' Soames eyed the distant settlement without enthusiasm. 'What a place to end your years, eh?
Herrick was worried. Something should have happened by now. There were supposed to be some three hundred Spanish soldiers and followers in the settlement, and God alone knew how many local natives. From what he had seen there were hardly any. The same old thought crossed his mind. Plague perhaps? Or something even more terrible.
He replied, 'They appear to be examining the inner defences. I am not surprised the Dons wish to be rid of it.' He shuddered. 'From here it looks as if the damned jungle is pushing the whole lot back into the sea.'
Soames shrugged and pointed his half-eaten biscuit at the gun deck. 'Shall I dismiss the gun crews? There seems to be little here to excite action.'
'No. There are only five of them manned. Change 'em round and send the others below for a spell.'
He was glad when Soames walked away. He needed to concentrate, to decide what to do if he was suddenly required to act without Bolitho at his elbow. It had been different the last time. A sort of wild recklessness had come over him, prompted as ever by the need to dash to Bolitho's aid in the only way he knew.
But here were no yelling savages, no darting canoes which a few bursts of canister could scatter. Silence, and depressing immobility.
Midshipman Penn called in his shrill voice, 'One of the boats is being launched, sir!'
Herrick felt his heart lift as the distant figure thrust Undine's green-painted gig into the shallows. He saw Bolitho's tall figure striding down the beach, pausing to say something to Davy before swinging his legs over the gunwale.
At last. Soon they would know what was happening. Only four hours, but to Herrick it felt an age.
'Muster the side party. Stand by to receive the captain!'
Bolitho looked strained and thoughtful as he climbed up through the entry port, his coat covered with sandy dust, his face damp with sweat. He glanced at the motionless side party but did not seem to see them.
He said, 'Have the surgeon and his mates sent ashore to report to Mr. Davy. When the other boats arrive I want powder and shot, food and fresh fruit sent over, too.' He peered towards the anchored brig and at another boat which was pulling quickly towards her. 'I have sent word for Rosalind to assist in every way she can.' He looked at Herrick's round face and smiled for the first time. 'Easy, Thomas. It is not the end, though it was nearly so. Come to my cabin when you have dealt with my orders. Allday has a list of things required.'
When Herrick finally joined Bolitho in the stern cabin he found him stripped to the waist and drinking a large tankard of lemon juice.
'Sit down, Thomas.'
Herrick sat, aware that although Bolitho sounded controlled and level, there was something else, something familiar which told him his mind was busy along another tack.
'When the war ended there was a garrison of about three hundred here.' It was as if he was drawing a picture, just as it had been painted for him. 'The commandant, the King of;Spain's trusted controller, was Colonel Don Jose Pastor, a dedicated soldier to all accounts, and one well used to building such settlements. He gained some trust from the natives, and by barter and other inducements, as well as the usual Spanish use of force, he was able to create a strong defence line, as well as clear much of the surrounding land. There is even a road of sorts, although that now is overgrown. A wilderness.'
Herrick ventured, 'Fever?'
'That, of course, but no more than you might expect in such a place.' He studied Herrick for several seconds, his eyes very grey in the reflected light. 'The settlement has been under almost constant attack for over a year. At first they thought it was only the work of marauding tribesmen, Dyak pirates maybe who were becoming worried by the spread of Spanish influence in their midst. Colonel Pastor had set up a Catholic mission above the settlement. The monks were found terribly mutilated and headless.' He did not see Herrick's expression of horror. 'Then others died when the fresh-water pools were, poisoned. The garrison had to fall back upon its own little stream within the walls. But for it, the fight would have ended long ago. Think of it, Thomas, if you had been an officer here. Trying to hold up morale, fighting an unseen enemy, while day by day your strength is dwindling. Each dawn you would be watching the horizon, praying for a ship, any vessel which could bring relief. Only one came in the whole of that time, but would not land its people for fear of the plague. She merely dropped despatches and left. God knows, I can understand that. They are like living skeletons over yonder.' He looked round as a boat pulled clear of the hull. 'Let us hope our surgeon will find others to help and think less of himself.'
Herrick asked quietly, 'What will Admiral Conway do, sir?'
Bolitho closed his eyes, remembering the small gathering in the room at the top of the wooden fort, hearing Puigserver's emotional voice as he had translated the report of the settlement's one remaining officer, Captain Vega.
The attacks had gone on and on, and when once an armed picket had been ambushed, the fort's defenders had nearly been driven mad by the screams and pitiful cries as their comrades had been tortured to death within sight of the walls.
Bolitho said, 'To the west of us is a small cluster of islands. The Benua Group.'
Herrick nodded, unable to understand. 'Yes. We passed them a day back.'
'They lie astride the strait between Borneo and the islands of Sumatra and Java.' His tone hardened. 'This self-styled prince, Muljadi, has his stronghold there. The Dutch built a fortress in one of the isles many years ago, but abandoned it when disease killed most of the garrison.' He looked through the stern windows, his eyes grave. 'Not like Conway's new domain, Thomas. It is built of stone.'
Herrick attempted to shift Bolitho from his mood of passive despair. 'But a few ships and men would soon destroy this damned Muljadi, surely?'
'Once, perhaps.' Bolitho drained the glass and stared at it. 'This morning there was a final attempt to overthrow the defences here. I expect the attacker saw Undine pass through the strait yesterday and knew they must make haste. Now they are gone into the jungle. Captain Vega of the garrison says they will head west to the marsh district, where they will be taken by sea to Muljadi's stronghold.' He gave a great sigh. 'Of all the men at the settlement, there are but fifty survivors. Poisoned darts, musket balls, for they have our weapons, too, and fever have wrought a terrible price from them. There was even a mutiny, when Vega's men fought with their own native soldiers, most of them too crazed with drink and despair to know what they were about.'
Herrick stared at him. 'What of Colonel Pastor, Sir? Is he also killed?'
Bolitho sat down and massaged the white scar above his ribs. 'I am coming to that part. Weeks back, a ship did finally arrive. Not to bring help, or to offer relief to people from their own part of 'the world. She was the Argus, Thomas.' He swung round, the weariness falling away like a cloak. 'Of forty-four guns, under the hand of Capitaine Le Chaumareys. He landed himself and met with Colonel Don Pastor. He brought a message from Muljadi. Personally.' He gripped the desk with both hands. 'And required him to lower the flag, to relinquish all claims on the settlement in the name of Spain.'
'My God.'
'Indeed. Apparently the colonel told of help which would soon arrive, but Le Chaumareys laughed at him. Said there would be no relief, no ships coming to his aid.'
'Then the French do have a hand in this, sir?'
'A big one.' His face lit up. 'Cannot you see it, Thomas? Le Chaumareys was instructed to force the Spanish to surrender their rights here. He knew better than most that Nervion or Undine, or both, would be delayed by any means available. With the settlement handed over to Muljadi, and a written agreement from Pastor, who after all is his King's representative here, there would be nothing we or anyone else could do. I have no doubt Le Chaumareys had further orders to recognise Muljadi's rule in the name of France, and to offer him whatever he needed to control his alliance.' He looked towards the beach, at the seamen who were unloading two of the boats. 'But we did come, Thomas. Too late for Colonel Pastor, for he left in the Argus to parley for his men with Muljadi. I pity him, even if I admire his courage.'