In a half-world Kydd waited for word from the delegates — they said they needed to contact the president. He paced up and down, the exaltation ebbing little by little.
Then word came. 'Fr'm Mr Parker. He wants yer to go aboard Sandwich — an' help 'im personal, like. C'n we bear a hand wi' yer dunnage, mate?'
Parker was waiting for Kydd at the entry-port; his handshake was crisp and strong. 'A sincere welcome to you, my friend,' he said. 'Be so good as to join me at a morsel for dinner - we've a lot to discuss.'
As Kydd sat down at the table, Parker's eyes glowed. 'Tom, it's very good to see you here. It was my heartfelt prayer.' Kydd beamed. 'But might I ask why're you in the rig of a foremast hand? Where are your breeches, your blue coat?'
'O' course, I wanted to show me heart with our tars. Tell me, Dick, how goes things?'
Parker pushed back his plate with a smile, hooked his waistcoat with his thumbs and tilted back his chair. 'Success is very near, Tom, be assured of that.' He jumped to his feet. 'Come with me.'
They went out on to the sweeping curve of the admiral's stern walk. Before them was the entire anchorage of the Nore, dozens of ships of all descriptions, each tranquil and still.
'There! You see? Every one is owing allegiance to the great cause we have set in train. Each one like a link in a chain binding to the next, so we have an unbroken bond uniting us all. And see them - ships-of-the-line, frigates, even fire-ships — all with but one mind.'
'A rousin' fine sight,' Kydd agreed. The very presence of the fleet before him was a calm assertion of the lightness of their course, a comforting vision of thousands of like-minded seamen ready to hazard all for what they believed. He lingered, savouring the grand vista of men-o'-war about him, then rejoined Parker inside.
He was sitting at the admiral's secretary's working desk, rummaging and assembling papers. 'So! To work, then. Now, what are we going to do with you, Mr Thomas Kydd? Achilles already has her delegates, and Sandwich is the Parliament ship for the fleet. No, I fancy your talents can command a higher position. You seem to have a practicality rooted in intelligence that I have seen rarely, and a loyal heart. However—' He pondered, then looked up, vexed. 'The delegates can be a disputatious and difficult crew at times and, I'm grieved to say, not always motivated by reasons of selflessness. In you I perceive a purity of purpose and a noble soul, and if only it were in my power to raise you high — but this is not possible. We are agreed to be an assembly of equals, and as president I - I can only be the voice of my people. I'm sorry, Tom.'
'Don't ye concern y'self f'r me, Dick. I'll bear a fist with anythin' I can. Never did want t' top it the bigwig, anyway. But y' must find somethin' I c'n do — y' must have a clinkin' great pile o' things t' do?'
Parker's face eased. 'Well, now, since you offer — you've no idea how much detail such a venture as ours commands, yet to neglect it is folly, leading inevitably to calamity and ruin. Consider this. We are many thousand, here together. How are we to be fed and watered without there are arrangements of supply? And if we vote on regulations of conduct, how are these to be given out to the fleet,, unless they are written out fifty times? Do accept to be my aide at least, I beg, and take these duties from my hands.'
'Aye,' Kydd said firmly, 'I will.' This was something he could do that had clear value. He would find men who could read and write, set them up at their tasks, and he himself could be available to Parker as needed.
'My very sincere thanks, Tom.' He held out his hand. 'I'll remember this day.'
The papers were loosely organised: minutes of meetings, rough drafts of proclamations, messages from delegates - it needed pulling together. Kydd put a proposal to Parker: 'C'n I find two good men t' stand by me, an' a private cabin?' He would need somewhere his papers would be safe.
'Of course. The admiral's dining cabin will not be entertaining this age — the table will serve well, and we may meet round it. I have in mind two who can assist. Both have their letters and are not friends to the bottle.'
Kydd gathered his resources; he sent his assistants to secure boxes for the papers, then set about sorting and reading them. Parker had a fine, imaginative flair for words, with ringing phrases and legal-sounding threats. It appeared, though, Kydd had to conclude, that his inclination was more towards the florid than the detailed.
At one point a well-built, fine-looking seaman entered the big cabin. 'William Davis, cap'n of Sandwich' he rumbled, with a hard-jawed grin. 'Do I see Tom Kydd, come fr'm the Caribbee?' 'Aye,' Kydd said.
'Quartermaster's mate in Artemis as was, goin' aroun' the world? Gets turned over inta — what, some sail-o'-the-line?'
'Trajan'
'An' ends up in a squiddy cutter, saves 'em all after a spell in a boat?' 'Th' same.'
'Then tip us yer daddle, cully,' he said warmly, holding out his hand. 'Thoroughbred seaman like you is who I wants now under m' lee while we're in shoal waters like this'n.'
Kydd was grateful for the uncomplicated trust: Davis appeared the very best kind of blue-water seaman and he knew he had a friend in whatever lay ahead. 'Tell me, Bill, d'ye know much about Dick Parker?'
Davis sat down, his seaman's gear - knife, marline spike, fox yarns around his neck — incongruous reflected in the deep mahogany of the table. 'Well, it's true about 'im bein' an officer, was a reefer in Mediator fer the American war, then shipped in Assurance but the poor bugger ran up agin Bully Richards who does 'im fer contempt. Court martial an' he's disrated 'n' turned afore the mast. Few years later, an' he gets ill an' goes ashore. Dunno what 'appened next, 'cos he ends up in clink fer debt, buys his way out b' volunteerin' fer the quota. Don't know much else — he's eddicated, you c'n tell that, comes fr'm Exeter, but wife in the north somewheres. But don't y' ask 'im too much about that, he's struck on 'er, very close they is.'
Kydd worked through the afternoon; at five bells Parker returned. He was buoyed up as he greeted Kydd. 'If you'd wish it, there's room in the boat for another when I make my visits. It'll be a chance to see something of our achievement.'
Kydd decided papers and lists, however important, could wait: it was about time he knew something of the greater arena.
Before, the barge, a thirty-two-footer finished in green, scarlet and gilt and under fourteen oars, was to be seen conveying captains and admirals. Now it was crowded and noisy with oarsmen, two men arguing over a giant Union Flag, a seaman's band with trumpets, flutes and drums led by the ship's fiddler, and general revellers. Many wore ribbons threaded through their hats, some the popular band of blue with 'Success to the Delegates' in gold. There was no sign of liquor that Kydd could detect.
Davis took the tiller, Parker and Kydd with him in the sternsheets. 'Where to, Dick?' Davis shouted, above the din.
'Director - then Inflexible, of course, we'll see.'
'Yair. Let go, forrard!' he roared at the bowman. 'Give way together, m' lads!'
The boat surged away from Sandwich and the band struck up immediately. They approached Director: her ship's company, drawn by the merriment, lined her decks. Some mounted the rigging, and cheers sounded, rolling around the anchorage. Parker rose and waved, more cheers came. He looked down at Kydd, flushed and distracted, but there was no mistaking the elation in his face.
They went about under Director's stern, the racket of the band echoing back from the formidable lines of the 64, then shaped course for Inflexible. As they approached the big ship-of-the-line there was the flat thud of a gun and smoke eddied away from the fo'c'sle.