Stockwin Julian
Pasha
WILL KYDD LAY SIEGE TO THE ANCIENT CITY OF CONSTANTINOPLE?
Thomas Kydd and the crew of L’Aurore bid farewell to the balmy waters of the Caribbean. Once home, Kydd finds his exploits are the talk of London and he and his best friend and confidential secretary, Nicholas Renzi, must part ways for good.
When British ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, Charles Arbuthnot, reports that the French (in an attempt to secure a vital passage to India) have been whipping up anti-English sentiment and actively wooing the Turks; Kydd is sent to the Dardanelles.
Braving treacherous currents, unreliable winds, and giant bombards, Kydd rescues the ambassador. But as the fleet waits for a response to their ultimatum, the French help strengthen Turkish defenses and an attempted coup lands Renzi in prison!
Bir gul mu var bu gulsen-i ‘alemde harsiz
(Does any bloom, in this rose-garden world, lack thorns?)
– Divan poetry from the court of Sultan Selim III
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
* indicates a fictitious character
* Thomas Kydd, captain of L’Aurore
* Nicholas Renzi,
his friend and confidential secretary, later Lord Farndon
L’AURORE, SHIP’S COMPANY
* Bowden, third lieutenant
* Brice, officer appointed into L’Aurore
* Calloway, master’s mate
* Clinch, midshipman
* Clinton, lieutenant of marines
* Curzon, second lieutenant
* Doud, seaman
* Gilbey, first lieutenant
* Goffin, ship’s clerk
* Kendall, sailing master
* Oakley, boatswain
* Owen, purser
* Peyton, surgeon
* Poulden, captain’s coxswain
* Redmond, gunner
* Saxton, master’s mate
* Stirk, gunner’s mate
* Tysoe, Kydd’s valet
* Willock, midshipman
OFFICERS, OTHER SHIPS
Admiral Cuthbert Collingwood
Vice Admiral Duckworth
Rear Admiral Sir Thomas Louis
Rear Admiral Sidney Smith
Captain Blackwood, Ajax
Captain Bolton, Fisgard
Captain Boyles, Windsor Castle
Captain Brisbane, Arethusa
Captain Lydiard, Anson
Captain Moubray, Active
* Lawson, lieutenant-in-command, Weazel
Dmitry Senyavin, Russian Navy admiral
Aleksey Ochakov, lieutenant of Tverdyi
OTHERS
Alexander Ball, governor of Malta
King George III
John Murray, publisher
* Congalton, Foreign Office
* Dillon, under-secretary, Eskdale Hall
* Emily, Kydd family’s maid
* Fortescue, confidential secretary
* Jago, under-steward, Eskdale Hall
* Cecilia Kydd
* Fanny Kydd
* Walter Kydd
* Marquess of Bloomsbury
* Hetty Panton, friend of Cecilia Kydd
* Perrott, Kydd school boatswain
CONSTANTINOPLE
Ahmed, secretary to Selim III
Arbuthnot, British ambassador
Crown Prince Mustafa
Haji Samatar, grand mufti of Constantinople
Ibrahim Hilmi Pasha, grand vizier
Isaac Bey, Ottoman envoy
Italinski, Russian ambassador
Kabakji Mustafa, Janissary official
Kaptan Pasha, port captain of Constantinople
Kose Musa, deputy grand vizier
Mahmut, chief of eunuchs of harem
Mehmed Ataullah Efendi, leader of Ulema
Memish Efendi, Selim supporter
Nezir Aga, eunuch of the harem
Pakize, favourite concubine of Selim
Sebastiani, French ambassador
Selim III, sultan Shakir Efendi, Selim supporter
* Doruk Zorlu, British ambassador’s aide
* Dunn, merchant
* Mustafa Tayyar Efendi, foreign ministry official
CHAPTER 1
IT WAS AS IF THE HANDSOME FRIGATE knew that she and her two-hundred-odd company were going home. After leaving the Caribbean she had quickly picked up a reliable westerly and now hitched up her skirt and flew, overtaking the broad Atlantic waves one by one in an eager swooping that had even old hands moving cautiously about the deck.
Channel fever was aboard and it gripped every soul. Soon after the chaos and drama of Trafalgar, HMS L’Aurore had been sent to join an expedition to wrest Cape Town from the Dutch. Success there had not been matched by the following ill-starred attempt at the South American colonies of Spain, and after capturing the capital, Buenos Aires, they had been forced to an ignominious surrender. Their later few months of service in the Caribbean had been abruptly terminated in an Admiralty summons to return to England. No doubt her captain was wanted at the vengeful court-martial to follow. But at last the handsome frigate and her crew were homeward bound.
Standing braced on the quarterdeck, Captain Thomas Kydd tried to take pleasure in the seething onrush of his fine command but he couldn’t shake a feeling of foreboding.
A snatch of song floated aft. The men were in good heart. They had served nobly in all three actions and could rely on liberty and prize-money to spend while L’Aurore received overdue attentions from the dockyard. Her captain, however, could only look forward to-
“How now, old horse! Do I see you the only one aboard downcast at the prospect of England?”
His old friend and confidential secretary, Nicholas Renzi, had come on deck to join him. They’d shared countless adventures since they’d met as common seamen so long ago and had no secrets between them.
“England? Why, not at all-it’s rather what’s lying in wait there that troubles me.”
“The court-martial.”
“Quite. We gave it our best against the Spanish but lost. And our leader to be crucified for quitting station-if we’d prevailed it would have been overlooked, but the Admiralty will never forgive us now.” Kydd gave a bitter smile. “There’s above half a dozen captains who’ll bear witness that I was in league with the commodore. It’s beyond believing that they’ll stop at only a single one to pay.”
“Possibly. But L’Aurore has done valiantly since, which should ease their lordships’ wrath a trifle.”
“You think so? They won’t yet have learned of our putting down the sugar-trade threat, and while we did stoutly at Curacao, who’s ever heard of the island, let alone Marie Galante? No, m’ friend, after Trafalgar the country expects nothing less than victory, every time!”
“It might not be as bad as-”
“Don’t top it the comforter, Nicholas. I’ll take it, whatever comes. It’s … it’s just that it would grieve me beyond telling should I lose L’Aurore.”
“That would put us both in a pickle, I’m persuaded,” Renzi said. “For at this particular time I’m obliged to say there are no shining prospects in store for me at all. I’ll not hide that I’m disappointed my novel was not received more warmly. It did seem to me a sprightly little volume, but the public’s taste is never to be commanded.”
“Well, I thought it a rattling good yarn, Nicholas! Are you sure?”
“It’s been over a year and I’ve heard not a thing.” Renzi’s head dropped. It was no use pining, though: he had to accept he was clearly not destined to be a novelist.
“But there’s one thing you can look forward to.”
“Oh?”
“Nicholas, sometimes you try the patience of a saint! You seem to have forgotten your promise!”
“My … ?”
“Yes, your promise that when we touched port in England,” he ground out, “you would that day post to Guildford and lay your heart before Cecilia.”