Bolitho gave a stiff bow, and said, "I am here to represent His Britannic Majesty, Excellency. On behalf of our two nations, and the peace we presently enjoy."
He half-listened to Martinez 's guttural translation and was reassured by it. Mehmet Pasha was not listening. He had understood every word he had said.
Bolitho continued, The vessel Galicia and her cargo were seized by one of your ships. I ask that you release Galicia 's master, so that I may arrange a solution." He looked at the other man calmly. "And the release of her company."
Martinez touched his arm and beckoned him to a window. "Some of them are there, Admiral. They resisted, they were punished." He watched him curiously. "Perhaps you would have done the same?"
The corpses lay where they had been thrown, like so much rubbish. As a warning to others, or with total indifference. The pools of dried blood were still apparent by the rotting remains. They had suffered terribly before they had died.
Martinez returned to his position facing his master.
Bolitho had seen more than the decaying corpses; he had caught sight of some of the guns pointing out across the bay. Perhaps Martinez had intended him to see them. Like a threat.
Mehmet Pasha was speaking, his tone unhurried, and without any sort of emotion. Martinez explained, The vessel was carrying an unlawful cargo. It was using waters governed only by the Dey, that also was unlawful. You are received here as a guest." His eyes moved between them. "But you have no authority, no power in these waters. He has spoken."
"I shall send his words to His Majesty, Captain Martinez. Of his response, I am not privileged to speak."
Martinez looked less confident, and said quickly, "Mehmet Pasha commands here, Admiral Bolitho!"
Bolitho watched the other man. Outwardly calm, even contemptuous, but something, an instinct perhaps, gave another impression. He was waiting to hear Bolitho's answer, and not through his 'interpreter'.
"Please tell him," he pointed suddenly to the window, the blinding edge of the horizon, "that I command out there."
In the sudden silence he could hear the echo of his own words, a sentence of death if Mehmet Pasha recognised his bluff.
The other man rose slowly from his chair, his face thoughtful. At any moment he would call for the guards. He would have proved nothing.
Martinez said huskily, There will be some refreshment, Admiral, for you and your… friends." He bowed as the slight figure walked unhurriedly to another door. Then he murmured, "You may take the Galicia when you depart from here, but her cargo remains." He glanced at the closed doors. "You are a very fortunate man, permit me to say!"
Bolitho saw Avery being ushered into the room, the astonishment and relief in his tawny eyes.
"For a moment, Sir Richard……"
Bolitho forced a smile. "For a moment, George. But it was not to be."
Martinez persisted, "Your little ship would stand no chance, but you knew that?"
Bolitho shrugged. "There would be other ships, as many as might be needed, as well you know. The rightful release of Galicia is not an understanding, but it may be the beginning of one."
Martinez said, "One of my officers will attend your return to the ship, Admiral Bolitho."
Bolitho understood. He needed to know what his master's reactions truly were, and Bolitho could accept that he had a kind of courage to serve here, for whatever reason. He thought of the rotting remains by the wall. Martinez would need no warning to remind himself of the constant danger he was in.
Avery fell into step beside him, eager to leave, and perhaps unable to accept that they would be allowed to do so.
"I did as you bid me." He revealed the end of a small telescope inside his coat. "A good view of the main anchorage from up there." He glanced round at Bolitho and said, "There are two frigates at anchor. Fifth-rates, I'd say, no flags but well guarded. Did you know, sir?"
"I'm not certain, George." He shaded his eyes to watch the same galley gliding towards the jetty. Mehmet Pasha wanted them away from here quickly, hence the release of Galicia. But two frigates? From where, and to what purpose?
He thought of the erect figure in the ornate chair. The bluff had not been one- sided after all.
Avery saw the galley come to rest, and a bearded officer in a flowing robe stepped ashore to receive them. He could scarcely conceal his relief.
"And we could have stayed a while longer for "refreshment"!"
Allday glared, and just as suddenly grinned at him.
"A ship's biscuit full o' weevils would do me after this damnable place, an' that's no error!"
Bolitho climbed down into the galley and waited for the bright sunshine to greet them again. With luck, they might be clear of Algiers by dusk. Christie would need no encouragement after this.
He touched the locket, and knew Avery was watching him. Later, he might admit it to himself. It had been a very close thing. How close, only Martinez had known at the time.
"Boat ahoy?" Sunlight flashed on fixed bayonets along Halcyon's gangway.
Allday cupped his hands. "Flag!"
Bolitho stared at the land, and then up at the frigate's side and rigging.
He was back. He smiled at a memory. Lady Luck had been with him.
13. So Private and So Strong
Captain James Tyacke sat in Bolitho's high-backed chair and watched as his admiral strode from the adjoining cabin, Ozzard trotting behind him trying to adjust the clean shirt, without success.
Tyacke felt vaguely uneasy, uncomfortable seated while Bolitho stood. He paced the cabin, describing what he had discovered at Algiers, pausing from time to time to make sure that his round-shouldered secretary was keeping pace, and that he was not thinking and speaking too quickly for the pen.
It was more than that; Tyacke had felt it within an hour of Halcyon's return to the Grand Harbour. An almost boyish eagerness to put his thoughts into motion, to be doing something again. But Tyacke knew him well enough now to see beyond it. There was a brittleness, a need, perhaps, to convince himself as well as those in the far-off Admiralty.
Bolitho's return had been something else Tyacke would remember: order and discipline momentarily forgotten as Frobisher's hands had swarmed into the shrouds and rigging to cheer Halcyon's boat, as it pulled alongside and hooked on to the chains with a flourish.
Tyacke had seen the effect for himself on Bolitho's features when he had climbed aboard, the wild cheering, from men he scarcely knew, echoed by those from Halcyon and the other ships which had joined the squadron during the admiral's absence.
Tyacke shifted in the chair. He had shared it, and his anxiety and relief had been forgotten in that very personal moment.
"The Dey knows he has a strong position, James. All those guns it would take a fleet, and even then the cost might outweigh the gains." He paused, and waited for Ozzard to tug his neck cloth into place. "And had I requested permission to anchor beforehand it would have been refused, or ignored like those of my predecessors."
Tyacke nodded. It was pointless to remind him of the risk, and the possible consequences. Bolitho might have spoken the words himself. That was then. This is now.
Instead he said, The two frigates are another matter. If they are to fly the Dey's colours we might take precautions, but if they are corsairs," he frowned, 'pirates, it would put a great strain upon our ships." He glanced at an open gun port "We now have seven frigates, including Halcyon, under your flag. There are brigs and schooners too, but no match for fifth-rates." He looked over at the flag lieutenant, who was leaning comfortably across the stern bench. "If you are sure of it?"
Avery said, "I am certain, sir."
Tyacke touched his disfigured face. "It is said that Spain intended to dispose of some of her men-of-war. It is possible. But this Captain Martinez… I know nothing of him, as a slaver or in any other role."