Command a King's Ship (34 page)

Bolitho shook his head. “In my position, would
you?
” He forced a smile. “Your face tells me what I need to know.”

Le Chaumareys nodded to his watching officers and then led the way to the entry port.

Bolitho glanced quickly along the gun deck, noting the fresh repairs to timbers and cordage. Where
Undine
had made her own challenge, and when he had felt the battle was nearly lost. It was an uncanny feeling to be walking with
Argus
's captain. More like compatriots than men who had so recently tried to destroy each other. If they met again after this, there could be no more truces.

The boat pulled steadily across swirling water towards the pier below the fortress, the French seamen watching Bolitho the whole time. Curious? Or merely seeing the face of an enemy?

Le Chaumareys spoke only once on the short crossing.

“Do not lose your temper with Muljadi. One sign and he will have you seized. He is without pity.”

“And what about your position here?”

The Frenchman gave a bitter smile. “He
needs
me,
m'sieu.
”

Once alongside the pier Bolitho gained a new understanding of the hatred he had seen earlier. With the French seamen sur- rounding him as an escort he was made to hurry up the steep slope towards the fortress, while on all sides voices rose in shouts and curses, and it was obvious that without Le Chaumareys's massive presence even the sailors would have been set upon.

The lower part of the fortress was little more than an empty shell, its courtyard littered with rushes and rags which the defenders and Muljadi's growing army of followers used for bedding. He looked up at the blue sky above the ramparts and saw the guns. Old but powerful, each with balls nearby, and long ropes which trailed carelessly to the courtyard, and some crude baskets which presum- ably were used to haul fresh powder and shot when required.

More rough steps, the sun probing across his shoulders, then sudden shadows making his body feel chilled and damp.

Le Chaumareys grunted, “You will wait here.”

He led Bolitho into a roughly hewn room no bigger than a cable tier and strode towards an iron-studded door at one end. It was guarded by some heavily armed natives, who faced the French seamen as if hoping for a fight.

Le Chaumareys seemed to sail right through them, like a three-decker breaking the line of battle. Supreme confidence, or a well-practised bluff. Bolitho did not know.

He did not have to wait long. The door was dragged open and he saw a large room, a chamber, which seemed to span the whole breadth of the upper fortress. Against the dull stone and smoky walls the dais at the far end made a fine splash of colour.

Muljadi was arranged on a pile of silk cushions, eyes fixed on the door, his body completely at ease.

He was naked to the waist, and wore only white baggy trousers and red leather boots underneath. He had no hair, so that in the sunlight from the slitted windows his head seemed pointed, and his single ear very prominent and grotesque.

Le Chaumareys was standing to one side of the dais, his face stern and alert. Around the walls were some of the dirtiest and cruellest-looking men Bolitho had ever seen in his life, although the quality of their weapons marked them as leaders or lieutenants in Muljadi's command.

He walked towards the dais, half expecting one of the onlook- ers to rush forward and cut him down, but nobody moved or spoke.

When he was within a few feet of the cushions Muljadi said flatly, “That is close enough!”

He spoke good English, but with a strong accent which was probably Spanish.

He continued, “Before I have you killed,
Captain,
is there any- thing you wish to say?”

Bolitho wanted to lick his parched lips. He heard the rustle of expectancy behind him, saw Le Chaumareys watching him with despair on his tanned face.

Bolitho said, “On behalf of His Britannic Majesty, King George, I have come to demand the release of Colonel Don Jose Pastor, subject of Spain, and under my country's protection.”

Muljadi sat bolt upright, the stump of his severed wrist point- ing like a gun.

“
Demand?
You insolent dog!”

Le Chaumareys stepped forward hastily. “Let me explain,
m'sieu.
”

Muljadi screamed, “You will address me as
Highness!
” To Bolitho he added savagely, “Call on your God for help! I will make you
plead
for death!”

Bolitho could feel his heart pumping against his ribs, the sweat pouring down his spine and gathering around his waist like ice- rime. Deliberately he reached into his pocket and pulled out his watch. As he flicked open the guard he heard Muljadi leap to his feet, the gasp of disbelief as he threw himself from the dais to seize Bolitho's wrist in a grip like a manacle.

He screamed into Bolitho's face, “Where did you get
that?
”

He jerked up his wrist and the watch, upon which the pranc- ing gold beast dangled like a fob.

Bolitho forced himself to keep his voice level. To stop his gaze from falling on the similar pendant which hung on Muljadi's chest.

“From a prisoner.” He added sharply, “A pirate!”

Muljadi twisted his wrist slowly, his eyes like fires as he snarled, “You lie! And you will suffer for it!
Now!
”

Le Chaumareys called, “In God's name, do not
make
him kill you!”

Bolitho kept his eyes on Muljadi's, feeling his power, his ha- tred, but something more. Anxiety?

He said, “If you take a telescope, you will be able to see my ship. You will also see there is a halter at the mainyard. If I do not return before dusk, your son will hang there, you have my word on it! I took this from his neck when I captured him and his schooner some forty miles to the south'rd of where we are standing.”

Muljadi's eyes seemed to be bulging right out of his head.

“You lie!”

Bolitho eased his wrist from Muljadi's grasp. The fingers had left marks like rope burns.

He said quietly, “I will exchange him for your prisoner.” He looked at Le Chaumareys's astonished face. “The
capitaine
can ar- range it, I am certain.”

Muljadi ran to a window and snatched a telescope from one of his men.

Over his shoulder he said hoarsely, “You will stay as hostage!”

Bolitho replied, “No hostages. A fair bargain. You have my word, as a King's officer.”

Muljadi threw the telescope to the ground, shattering the lens in all directions. His chest was heaving violently, and his shaven head was glittering with tiny jewels of sweat.

“King's officer? Do you think I care for you?” He spat on the stones by Bolitho's shoes. “You will suffer, that I promise you!”

Le Chaumareys called, “Let it be done!” He hesitated. “Highness!”

But Muljadi was almost beside himself. Like a madman. He suddenly grasped Bolitho's arm and propelled him to the opposite end of the chamber and thrust him against the window.

“Look down there,
Captain!
” He was spitting out each word like a pistol ball. “I will give you your colonel, but it is too late to save you now!”

Bolitho stared down at the glittering water which snaked around and amongst the next cluster of islets. Anchored in a bend of the channel, her decks alive with hurrying figures, was a frigate.

He felt Muljadi's hatred turning to a wild jubilation as he shouted, “Mine! All mine! Well, my
King's officer,
are you still so confident?”

Le Chaumareys said harshly, “Why did you have to do that?”

Muljadi whirled round on him, his eyes wild. “Do you think I have to be told what to do? That I am a child? I have waited long enough. The waiting is over now.”

A door grated open and Bolitho saw the Spanish comman- dant, supported on either side by an armed pirate, his eyes blinking in the light as if he was almost blind.

Bolitho strode past Muljadi and his men. “I have come to take you home,
Señor.
” He saw the filth on his torn clothing, the shackle marks on his thin wrists. “It was a brave thing you did.”

The old man peered blearily at him, his beard quivering as he said jerkily, “I do not understand?”

Le Chaumareys said, “Come. Now.” Under his breath he added, “Or I will not answer for your safety!”

It was like a dream. Down the sloping track to the pier and into the boat, and for most of the way pursued by Muljadi's voice, which had lapsed into another language, although the threat was no less evident.

Bolitho said coldly, “The frigate. She was English.”

Le Chaumareys nodded wearily. “Yes. Damaged in battle in '
82
, she was beached near here and her company removed by an- other vessel. We have been working on her for two years almost. Putting her to rights. I was ordered to hand her to Muljadi ready for use, before I am allowed to return home.”

Bolitho did not look at him. He was supporting the Spanish commandant against his knees, feeling his sobs and his misery.

“Then I hope you are proud of your work,
m'sieu
. And what it may mean when Muljadi puts her to work.”

The French frigate's yards loomed above the boat, and Bolitho followed the other captain up to the entry port.

Le Chaumareys said abruptly, “Maurin will attend to the transfer.”

He looked searchingly at Bolitho for several seconds.

“You are still young. One day you might have understood. Now that is past.” He thrust out his hand. “When we meet again, as I fear we must, it will be for the last time.”

He turned on his heel and strode to the cabin hatch.

Bolitho pulled out his watch and examined the gold pendant. If he had been mistaken, or Potter had given him wrong informa- tion . . . He stopped his train of thought there and then. It did not bear even conjecture.

Then he thought of the captured frigate. But for Muljadi's flare of anger he would never have known of it. The knowledge was little help, but it was better than nothing, he decided.

Maurin said cheerfully, “I will take a boat away to your ship,
m'sieu.
They will be surprised to learn of your safety, as I am.”

Bolitho smiled. “I was well protected, thank you.” He glanced at the cabin hatch, but was uncertain what he meant.

16
NO
BETTER
,
NO
W
ORSE
THAN
MOST

B
OLITHO
walked slowly along the upper rampart at the inland side of the settlement, watching the steamy haze rising from the jungle, the afternoon sunlight playing on the dripping leaves and fronds nearest the palisade.
Undine
had anchored shortly before noon below an empty blue sky, and yet during their slow approach to- wards Pendang Bay he had seen the land dark under the weather, and had almost envied the isolated downpour. He sighed, smelling the thick, heady scents from the jungle, the drowsy aromas of rot- ting leaves and roots hidden in deep shadow below the trees.

For the last two days
Undine
had been plagued with opposing wind, and when at last it had changed in their favour there had been little more than a breath to bring life to the sails.

He watched some red-coated sepoys working beyond the pali- sade, and two native women approaching the gateway with heavy bundles on their heads. At a glance it seemed nothing had changed, but now as he waited to confront Conway for the second time within the hour he knew everything was different.

He continued his walk to the next corner of the crude timber rampart and saw
Undine
riding easily to her cable, the captured schooner close abeam. As he looked towards the shallows where he had last seen the brig
Rosalind
when
Undine
had set sail for Muljadi's stronghold, it was all he could do to stop himself from cursing aloud. Like the transport
Bedford,
she had gone. Back to Madras, to carry despatches and Raymond's own appreciation of the situation to Sir Montagu Strang.

Bolitho had been shocked by Conway's appearance when he had reported ashore within thirty minutes of dropping anchor. Wild-eyed, more shrunken than ever, he had been almost beside himself with anger and despair.

He had shouted, “You dare to stand here and tell me that you actually chose to ignore my orders? That despite the importance of my instructions you made no attempt to parley with Le Chaumareys?”

Bolitho had stood very still, his eyes on Conway's distorted features. An empty decanter lay on the table, and it was obvious he had been drinking heavily for some time.

“I could not parley, sir. To do so would have been to recognise Muljadi. Which is exactly what the French want.”

“Are you telling me something I do not already know?” Conway had gripped the table violently. “I ordered you to tell Le Chaumareys to return Colonel Pastor unharmed! The Spanish government would have raised a savage argument against England if we had allowed him to remain a prisoner,
and right under my nose!
”

Bolitho recalled his own voice. Taut and flat. Not daring to arouse Conway's fury any more than it was.

“When I found I had captured Muljadi's son I knew I
could
bargain, sir. There was a good chance I would succeed. As it turned out, we arrived in time. I fear that Pastor would have died in a few more days.”

Conway had screamed, “Pastor be damned! You took Muljadi's son, and you dared to release him! We could have had that bloody pirate crawling at our feet, pleading for his son's life!”

Bolitho had said abruptly, “There was a frigate lost in these waters during the last months of the war.”

Conway had been taken off guard. “Yes, yes. The
Imogene,
Captain Balfour.” He had squinted against the sun's glare from a window. “Twenty-eight guns. Had been in battle with the French and then got caught by a gale. Drove aground, and her people were taken off by one of my sloops. What the
hell
does she have to do with it?”

“Everything, sir. But for my meeting with Muljadi I would never have known until we were totally unprepared. The frigate, the
Imogene
, is there, sir, in the Benuas, and from what I saw, about ready to weigh anchor.”

Conway had lurched against the table, as if Bolitho had actu- ally struck him.

“If this is some trick, some ruse to deter my—”

“She is there, sir. Refitted and repaired, and I have no doubt well trained by Le Chaumareys's officers.” He could not conceal his bitterness. “I had hoped the brig would still be here. You could have sent word. Demanded help. There is no choice in the matter now.”

The next part had been the worst. Conway walking unsteadily to the sideboard and fumbling with another decanter, and mutter- ing, “Betrayed, right from the start. Raymond insisted on sending the brig to Madras. She's a Company vessel, and I could hold her no longer. He had all the arguments. All the answers, too.” Claret had slopped over his shirt like blood as he had shouted, “And me? Nothing but a cat's-paw! A tool for Strang and his friends to use as they please!”

He had smashed a goblet with the decanter and groped hur- riedly for another, adding, “And now you, the one man I trusted, tells me that Muljadi is ready to attack my settlement! Not merely content with showing me to be incompetent, Raymond will now tell his damned superiors that I cannot even hold this territory under the British flag!”

The door had opened noiselessly and Puigserver had moved into the room. He had glanced briefly at Conway and had said to Bolitho, “I stayed until your return. My men have sailed in the
Bedford,
but I could not leave also without offering my gratitude for securing Don Pastor's release. You seem to make a habit of risking your life for others. I trust that this time it will not go unrewarded.” His black eyes had moved to Conway again. “Eh, Admiral?”

Conway had stared at him vaguely. “I must think.”

“We all must.” The Spaniard had settled in a chair, his eyes still on Conway. “I heard some of it through the door.” He had shrugged. “Not spying, you understand, but your voice was some- what forceful.”

Conway had made a new effort to control himself. “Confer- ence. Immediately.” He had fixed Bolitho with a bleary stare. “You wait outside. I must
think.
”

Now, as he looked emptily at the small figures below the pali- sade, Bolitho could feel his returning anger, a sense of urgency.

“Richard!”

He swung round and saw her at the corner of the square tower. She was well covered against the sun, and wore the same wide- brimmed hat as before. He hurried to her and seized her hands.

“Viola! I was wondering—”

She shook her head. “Later. But listen.” She reached up and touched his cheek very gently, her eyes suddenly sad. “It has been so long. Eleven days, but they were years. When the storm came I worried about you.”

He tried to speak, to break the pain in her voice, but she hurried on, “I think James suspects. He has been very strange lately. Probably my maid let slip something. A good girl, but easily flattered into words.” She studied him searchingly. “But no matter. He will do nothing. It is
you
I am concerned for.” She dropped her head. “And it is all my fault. I wanted him to be something in this world, mostly, I suspect, for my own gain. I drove him too hard, too fast, wanting him to be the man he could never be.” She squeezed his hand. “But you know all this.”

Voices echoed below the parapet and Bolitho thought he heard footsteps.

She said huskily, “James will have sent his own report to Sir Montagu. He knows now that Conway is not the man for this appointment, and will use this knowledge to his own advantage. But you, my darling Richard, will be included in his report. I know him so well, you see. To get at you, to use his petty revenge, he will also blame you for the inability to destroy an ignorant pirate, French aid or no!”

He replied quietly, “It is worse than that. Muljadi has many men at his back. When once he has overthrown this settlement the whole area will rise to support him. They have little choice. The pirates will become saviours, the protectors the invaders. It is not uncommon.”

She turned her head quickly and he saw a pulse jumping in her throat.

“Listen to me, Richard. Do not become further involved. You are valuable to your country and to all who look up to you. Do not, I implore you, continue to look up to those who are unfit even to lick your boots!” She cupped his face in her hands. “Save your ship and yourself, and damn
their
eyes, I say!”

He held her wrists very gently. “It is no longer so simple.” He thought of Le Chaumareys, encouraging him to quit, to get away and still retain his honour. “And I wish to God you had sailed in the brig. Muljadi has more strength now, and when he comes . . .”

He let his gaze move outward and down towards the anchored frigate. How small she appeared in the harsh glare.

“There is only
Undine
between him and these walls.”

She stared at him, her eyes wide and suddenly understanding.

“And you intend to fight
all
of them?”

Bolitho prised her hands away as a sepoy corporal rounded the tower and said, “Captain Bolitho,
sahib,
the governor will meet you, please.”

Bolitho looked at her and said, “Now we will see, Viola.” He tried to smile. “The battle's not done yet.”

He found Conway seated behind the table, his stained shirt covered by his heavy dress coat. Puigserver had not moved, and Raymond was standing with his back to a window, his face hidden in black shadow. Major Jardine and his second-in-command made up the conference.

Conway said sharply, “I have told them, Bolitho. Word for word as you described it to me.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Bolitho looked at Raymond, knowing it would come from him.

“You took a great deal upon yourself, Captain. More, I suspect, than the governor intended?”

“Yes, sir. But I was taught to use initiative, especially when beyond the fleet's apron strings.” He saw Puigserver examining one shoe with sudden interest. “The fact is, Muljadi intends to attack this settlement. It is all he can do now that he has lost his hostage, and understands that we are informed of his additional frigate. It has changed everything.”

Jardine said harshly, “If he comes, my men can hold him off until help arrives. When the brig reaches Madras they'll soon send a force to finish this ruffian! Even when the Navy is apparently incapable of so doing, what?”

Bolitho waited, watching Raymond's hands on the window sill.

“Well, Mr. Raymond? Is the gallant major right?” He saw the hands take a firmer grip and added, “Or did you suggest in your report to Sir Montagu Strang that Pendang Bay is, in your opin- ion,
no longer an asset?
”

Jardine bared his teeth
. “Rubbish!”
He hesitated and asked, “Well, sir?”

Raymond sounded very calm. “I told the truth. No ships will be sent, other than transports to remove the Company's soldiers and their dependents.”

Jardine exploded, “But I can manage, sir! You should have told me first!”

Bolitho said, “You cannot
manage,
Major. Muljadi will have more than a thousand men when he comes. His stronghold is crammed to capacity, that I
did
see. You may have been able to hold the walls until help was forthcoming from Madras. Without it, your only chance is a forced march through dense jungle to the east'rd to contact the Dutch East India Company base and find safety.” His tone hardened. “But through dense jungle, and at this time of the year, I doubt if many would survive, even without at- tack from those who will want to impress Muljadi with their loyalty.”

Raymond said thickly, “No blame can fall on my shoulders! I reported what I knew! I had no knowledge of this other frigate!” He tried to recover his original calm. “Any more than you did!”

Conway stood up very deliberately, each movement an effort of will.

“But you could not wait,
Mr.
Raymond. You used your author- ity to seek your own ends and despatched the brig even after I requested she be held here until
Undine
's return.”

He walked to the opposite side of the room and stared unseeingly at the close-knit jungle.

“So what can we do? How best can we prepare ourselves for slaughter?”

He turned with the speed of light and yelled, “Well, Mr. Raymond? Will you explain, for indeed it is beyond me!”

Major Jardine stammered, “Surely it cannot be that hopeless?”

Puigserver was watching Bolitho. “Well,
Capitan?
You have been
inside
the lion's den, not us.”

Bolitho looked at Conway. “May I suggest something, sir?”

The admiral nodded, his wispy hair in disorder. “If there is anything left to say.”