Tenacious

"Colonel Graham, I am—er, was, signal l'tenant in HMS Tenacious. Gen'ral Stuart, I'm sure, will be very satisfied should he take intelligence on th' quarterdeck of Leviathan that informs him hour b' hour of where the Spanish are. We have a fine enough set o' signals in the navy we can use for th' purpose."

The murmuring died away as Stuart contemplated Kydd. "Possibly. For this it will mean crossing unknown territory occupied by the enemy ..."

"Aye, sir, but did I not hear about y'r Minorcan patriots? They c'n see us through t' the mountain right enough."

"Commodore?"

"Er, I can see nothing wrong in principle at this stage, sir, but—"

"Mr Kydd, you are prepared that you may be taken up as a spy, as most assuredly you are?"

"Sir."

"One moment, if you please, sir." A young army subaltern stood up and banged his head on a deck-beam, which made him sit again abruptly. "This is an army operation, sir, and on land. I cannot see how the navy can be expected to recognise military movements. Therefore I do volunteer for the task."

Kydd bristled. He swung on the young officer. "I think I c'n be trusted to recognise a parcel o' Spanish redcoats. But can you, sir, tell if the wind is foul f'r a landing if we have to shift from Fornells? I have m' doubts of it ..."

"Quite so," said Stuart. "But do I understand you to mean that you can undertake to observe the enemy from their rear, signal over their heads to my headquarters at sea to advise on just where their forces are massing to oppose us?"

"Yes, sir—and give ye warning should reinforcements be afoot."

"Hmmm. Reliably?"

"Sir, a line o' frigates ahead of a fleet c'n watch sixty miles o' sea—an' there's three hundred signals in the book they can use t' advise the admiral." Kydd did not mention there was no signal hoist in the book he could remember for "Fornells" or "marching towards" or any other military terms for that matter.

"Very well, we will take this forward, Mr Kydd. Be so kind as to consult with the adjutant on how best to proceed." Stuart hesitated then declared to the meeting, "For the purposes of this operation we press on as before. If—if this signalling fails in its intention we have lost nothing and will resume the assault without the information. However, if your scheme succeeds we will be greatly in your debt, Mr Kydd."

Kydd bowed politely, but inwardly he was exulting. He had seized the moment. This was what it was to be a Nelson! He resumed his place, but before he had settled, Duckworth leaned across and said testily, "A word with you afterwards at your convenience, Mr Kydd."

"Say y'r piece, Nicholas, but please t' make it speedy. The landing is set f'r only two days hence." Kydd rummaged in his chest, looking for anything that he could put over his uniform. He had a dim recollection from somewhere that he could not be shot as a spy if he was in uniform.

"Tom, my friend ..."

"Do ye lend me y'r watch, I'd be grateful."

Renzi untagged the expensive hunter from his waistcoat. "It's not too early to reconsider the plan," he said softly. "You see, it is not the fear of failure that troubles me, it is your unthinking trust that so many things will go right for you."

Kydd stopped and looked directly at Renzi. "If Nelson let fear o' what can go wrong come t' the front, why, he'd never have sailed against the enemy at the Nile. Nothing was ever won b' holding back, Nicholas."

Renzi bit his lip. "Then how will you set up for signals without you provide a mast and halliards?"

"I'll find a way. Pass the lashing, if y' please."

Renzi tried another tack. "If you are taken, you can expect no mercy. There are tales told of the Spanish treatment of prisoners that make ugly—"

"Enough! I have t' be ready by six bells. If you can't help, be s' kind as to stand clear." Kydd tested the lashing round a small seaman's chest. Inside was a full set of naval signal flags and tack lines that would allow the sending of any message in the book. And all the while Tenacious cruised ever closer to Minorca's east coast for a secret night rendezvous with the revolutionary group.

"What is your plan, brother?"

"Not so rarefied, m' friend. After we get ashore it's just four an' a bit miles to Monte Toro through scrub 'n' a few farms. We've got good charts o' the island from when we were here in 'eighty-two. I've copied a track from them. There's a path up to th' top where the ladies used to go for the view an' up there is just a nunnery. I'll not disturb 'em if I set up on their roof, I believe."

"And you can see the Spanish from there?"

"A prime position! Fornells t' the north, five miles, turn about to the nor'east to Addaya, four miles. An' with a height of eye up there close t' a thousand feet there's nothing that moves I can't see."

Renzi murmured words of general unease as he helped bring the chest on deck.

"Sir, ready in all respects," Kydd said to Faulkner.

"Very well. You have no qualms at this stage, Mr Kydd? It is not too late ..."

"Ready, sir," Kydd said stoutly.

"Then we will proceed. Lookouts to your stations! Mr Pearce?"

"Aye aye, sir," said the boatswain, and the darkness was suddenly split by the ghostly blue of the light of a flare reflected on sails. It sputtered and fizzed, sending dark shadows dancing about the deck, illuminating the faces of the men. In a few minutes the flare died to red sparks and blackness clamped in once more.

"Absolute silence!" Long minutes passed. Nothing could be heard but the easy creak of the ship in the placid seas and the distant cry of a seabird. Kydd clutched a rope tightly. Tenacious was his true home, where he had been formed as a king's officer, faced death and destruction, crossed whole oceans: now he was leaving her warm security for the unknown perils that lay out in the darkness.

A faint cry came out of the night and was immediately followed by a hail from the foretop. "Deck hooooo, an' it's three points t' larb'd."

"Mr Pearce!"

"Sir." He took his speaking trumpet and roared into the night, "God save King George!"

An answering cry came and minutes later a small fishing-boat appeared. The boatswain gave a signal for it to come alongside and Kydd prepared to board. Bowden was standing close. "Bear a hand with m' chest, Mr Bowden," he asked, trying to keep the tension from his voice.

Upturned faces in the boat watched as Bowden passed a hitch round it and went down the side to the boat to receive it from the seamen lowering away.

Kydd turned for a farewell sight of his ship and a handshake from the captain. Renzi waited until last—his grip was tight. No words were spoken.

"Good luck t' ye, sir," came a low cry from the anonymous darkness forward, and a lump formed in Kydd's throat. He lifted an arm in response and went into the boat.

A jabber of nervous Spanish greeted him and a woman's voice cautioned, "Pons he say as 'ow we must not waste th' time."

Taken aback, Kydd muttered something and took the chest from Bowden. "Away y' go, m'lad," he said, "an' thank ye."

"Can't do that, sir," Bowden said quietly. "I'd be disobeying captain's orders!"

"Wha—"

"He asked me to accompany you, sir." Kydd realised that this was probably not the way it had happened, but already the anonymous figure in the bows had poled off and the comforting bulk of Tenacious was receding into the blackness.

"Y'r a rascal, Bowden, but I thank ye all the same."

"Pons ask you, do not spik—he listen for danger!" In the sternsheets the woman was close enough for him to be aware of her female scent.

A darker mass loomed and the boat stopped in the water. The fitful half-moon laid a fragile luminosity over the water, revealing a third figure, whom Kydd presumed to be Pons. He was listening with rigid concentration. At length he signalled to the rower, who skimmed the boat about and glided in to the shore.