He was angry. It went against everything he knew to interfere with his captain's authority. If the situation developed into a full-scale operation against French privateers under skilled leadership, Trevenen as the flag captain would be in a vital role. Was this animosity then a continuation of the old family feud? Or could it be something less obvious, and if so more sinister?
Either way, he had committed himself now.
Trevenen said heavily, "I hope I know my duty, Sir Richard."
Bolitho looked at him, feeling his resentment like a blow. "For all our sakes, Captain, so do I! "
As the door closed a ruler rolled from the desk and across the black and white painted canvas deck.
Bolitho felt the hull shiver, the sudden clatter of blocks and halliards as the uncooperative wind ruffled the sea's face and brought life to the empty sails.
"Hands aloft there! "
"Stand by to recover boats! " A call shrilled and feet padded overhead.
He leaned back in a chair and plucked the shirt from his chest. He felt the locket under his fingers and thought of Catherine in Falmouth, three thousand miles astern. When would her first letter catch up with him? He had suggested that she should write directly to Cape Town, but even then…
Avery entered from the adjoining cabin and gazed at him searchingly, his tawny eyes bright in the reflected sunlight from the stern windows. He must know exactly what happened just now. Bolitho heard more shouts, the squeal of tackles as the boats were hoisted inboard once again. The boats' crews might never know about his intervention. They were probably too worn out to care.
He stood up as Ozzard came out of the sleeping cabin with a clean shirt.
Avery asked, "Will there be a salute, Sir Richard?"
Bolitho nodded. Feeling his way. There is a captain in command of the anti-slavery patrol here. I think I know him." He smiled, despite the lingering anger at his conflict with Trevenen. There was usually a familiar face before very long in the family that was the navy.
The deck tilted again and he said, "Make a signal to Laertes. Take station astern." He pulled on the clean shirt.
Avery looked at him but said nothing, well aware that the order had been given to prevent Trevenen from being humiliated by the other ship's superior performance.
Ozzard held out the dress coat and waited patiently for Bolitho to slip his arms into it. He did so with a faint, rueful smile. He had seen the expression in Trevenen's eyes when he had found his admiral in a crumpled shirt and little else. If they ever went into a fight, Trevenen at least would be dressed for the part, he thought.
As Avery turned to leave Bolitho called, "Let me know if the brig Lame is at anchor."
He walked to the stern windows and winced as he rested his palms on the sill. It would be good if Tyacke were here. There were bitter memories in this place, but not where that bravest of men was concerned.
On deck there seemed to be no air, and yet every sail was filling and slackening as if the ship herself were breathing. Laertes was already tacking obediently astern, her ensign and masthead pendant very bright against the misty backdrop.
Allday stood near him, his hat tilted over his eyes, his thick arms folded across his chest.
Some seamen were making the final lashings fast on the boats on the tier, although the whole drill would have to be repeated once the anchor was dropped. They were getting very brown-skinned, and some were cruelly burned by a climate and a life they were not yet used to.
One young sailor had a red mark like a new scar on his shoulder, a cut from a starter while he had been pulling at his oar. He seemed to feel that someone was watching him, and turned to look over his bare shoulder toward the place where Bolitho stood at the quarterdeck rail. As their eyes met, Bolitho gave just the slightest nod.
The sailor stared round as if afraid of being seen, then almost shyly gave a quick smile before turning back to his lashings.
Allday murmured, "It's a beginning." He missed nothing.
Bolitho felt his eye stinging badly and turned away, in case Allday should see that too.
The first bang of the salute echoed and re-echoed across the water from a small hillside battery, and gun for gun Valkyrie responded, fifteen in all for the man whose flag fluttered from the foremast truck. Allday watched Bolitho's stiff shoulders and could guess what he was thinking. Few others would understand; could even begin to, he decided. All this, the salute, the honour and the power, and to him it meant nothing. Yet a frightened grin from an unknown, pressed land man had touched his heart. No wonder she loved him.
"Hands aloft! Reef tops' Is Stand by to take in the main course! 1
A lieutenant called, "Bosun! Move those men! Come along, Mr. Jones! "
But the barrel-chested boatswain shrugged and did nothing.
Urquhart the first lieutenant touched his hat. "Guardboat in position, sir! "
Trevenen stared past him, his hands gripped behind his back. "Stand by starboard anchor, if you please." He did not look at Bolitho. Take in the driver and t'gan'sls. Prepare to come about."
Avery said, "No sign of Lame, Sir Richard."
"Man the braces! "
Bolitho shaded his eyes and studied the scattered array of shipping. Large and small with a collection of moored vessels, obviously prizes, slavers brought here by captains like Tyacke.
An elderly sixty-four was anchored close to the shore, the headquarters and accommodation ship for the man who commanded the patrols and fought a private war against fever and sudden death.
Despite the new laws against it slavery was still rampant. The risks the slavers took were greater, but so were the profits for the successful. Some of the ships in the trade were as well armed as the brigs and schooners that hunted for them. Most sea officers thought it was all a waste of time, except for those involved in the long-reaching patrols who were making huge sums in prize money. It should be left until the war was over and won, then they could be as pious as all those others who did not have to fight. The need for fighting ships, no matter how small, far outweighed the tongue-in-cheek display of humanity.
"Lee braces there! "
"Helm a-lee, sir! "
Valkyrie pivot ted round, and as her great anchor flung spray high over the beak head she came slowly to rest on her cable. Trevenen glared up at the yards where men were fisting and lashing the furled sails into place.
Bolitho said, "I should like the gig, Captain Trevenen. I intend to visit the captain yonder." He glanced around the quarterdeck. "The ship must have made a splendid sight as she came in."
There was no response, and Bolitho made for the companion-way. It was obvious that there would be none.
Lieutenant Avery said, "Mr. Guest, you may go below. I shall need you again shortly." He saw the midshipman's face stiffen as the captain snapped, "I will give the orders here, Mister Avery, and I will trouble you not to interfere! Be content with your grace-and-favour appointment! "
"I resent that, sir."
Trevenen gave a cold smile. "Do you indeed?"
Avery stood his ground. "It is the only thing we have in common, sir."
The midshipman swallowed hard. "What shall I do, sir?"
Trevenen swung away. "Do as he asks, and damn your impertinence! "
Avery found that his hands were clenched so tightly that he was in pain.
You damned, bloody fool. You vowed to control your feelings, to do nothing that might hurt you more…
He saw Allday watching, just the hint of a smile in his eyes. The big man said quietly, "Right on the waterline, sir. Well done! "
Avery stared at him. Nobody had ever addressed him like that before. Then he found that he was smiling, the sudden pain of despair already gone. The vice-admiral and his coxswain. Remarkable.
Bolitho's voice came from the open skylight.
"Mr. Avery! When you have quite finished up there I would be obliged to you for your assistance! "