Darkening Sea (20 page)

As the boat was cast off from the chains, he saw several of his men peering down from the shrouds or gangway while the oars-men fought to bring the boat under command. Most of them were still unaware of what was happening, least of all why their captain wore a subordinate's coat.

With the wind assisting them and the seamen pulling hard back on their oars they were soon close enough to see the brig more clearly, her name,
Eaglet,
across her stern.

“They've lowered a ladder, sir!” Dunwoody was leaning forward, his dirk clutched between his knees. He sounded hoarse but not frightened. He was thinking much like Martin. That once aboard they could seize him as a hostage.

Adam stood in the swaying boat and cupped his hands. “I demand to come aboard! In the King's name!”

He heard some muffled shouts, jeers perhaps, and thought he saw the gleam of sunlight on weapons.

A man without hat or coat stood at the bulwark and stared down at the pitching cutter with anger and contempt.

“Stand away there! This is an American vessel! How dare you fire on us?”

Starr, the coxswain, muttered, “What d'you think, sir?”

Adam remained standing. “Bluff.” He hoped it sounded convincing. He cupped his hands again and noticed how cold they were in spite of the sun.

He could almost feel Martin and the others watching him across the tossing strip of water. Very deliberately he raised his hand.

All eyes above him on the brig's deck stared as
Anemone
's gunports opened as one, and all the weapons which would bear were hauled squeaking and rumbling into the sunlight.

“You mad bastards!”
The brig's master waved to his men and an entry port was hauled open above the dangling ladder.

Between his teeth Adam said, “When we hook on, follow me, one at a time up the ladder.” He looked at the midshipman's upturned face. “If things go wrong get them back to the ship. You're doing well.”

He looked up and waited for the cutter to lift heavily against the brig's weatherworn hull.

Why had he said that to the midshipman? They might both be killed within minutes if the
Eaglet
's master was foolish enough to condemn himself to death under
Anemone
's broadside. Pride? Arrogance? How would
she
see him if she were here?

He gripped the entry port and dragged himself inboard.

The deck seemed to be packed with men, most of whom were armed. The vessel's master blocked his way, seaboots astride and arms folded, every fibre blazing with fury. “I'm Joshua Tobias. Who the hell are you?”

Adam touched his hat. “His Britannic Majesty's frigate
Anemone.
” He gave a curt nod and thought he heard the infamous Sergeant Deacon clambering from the ladder. Deacon had been broken from sergeant more than once, mostly for brawling ashore: he had even suffered the lash for his behaviour, but as a sergeant there was none to touch him. He had rarely been known to discipline one of his marines. A quick punch from one of his ham-like fists was usually more than sufficient.

“Why have you dared to stop my vessel? Your government will hear of this when I reach port, Lieutenant. I wouldn't be in your bloody shoes!”

There were growls from the watching seamen. It just needed one hot-head. Like a spark in a powder keg.

Adam said quietly, “It is my duty to warn you, sir, that any resistance to a King's ship will be treated as piracy. By the powers vested in me I am required to search your vessel. I would like to see your papers also.”

Someone yelled from the back of the crowd, “Pitch the bugger overboard! We drubbed his kind afore! Let's be done with 'em!”

The master held up one hand. “I'll deal with this!”

To Adam he said harshly, “Do you expect me to believe that your captain would fire on his own men?”

Adam kept his face stiff. “You do not know my captain.”

Midshipman Dunwoody called, “Boarding party in position, sir!”

Adam felt sweat on his spine. It was all taking too long.

He snapped, “Where bound?”

The master replied indifferently, “The island of Rodriguez, general cargo. You can see my bills of lading if it amuses you! This is a neutral vessel. I'll see you broken for this, an' your damned captain too!”

Adam said, “Quite.” He looked at the Royal Marines sergeant. “Take charge on deck, Deacon. Any trouble and you have your orders.” He turned to his coxswain. “Take four men.” Starr had hand-picked them himself, all from
Anemone
's first ship's company.

Suppose the master spoke the truth? They would have to release the brig.

Trevenen would make a big case against him. Even his uncle would be helpless.

The thought made him angry. “Show me the chart.”

They clattered down a short pitching ladder to the tiny chart-room. He studied the calculations, sparse and even casual when compared with the navy's standards. Old Partridge would fall dead if he saw it.

The
Eaglet
was no slaver. There were not even any manacles, which under the slavery act could condemn any ship's master who carried them.

Starr stood by the ladder and shook his head.

On deck again Adam considered it. Provisions, flour, oil, even gunpowder; but the latter was no crime.

The master was grinning at him and there were catcalls from some of his crew. He shouted, “Bosun! Tell that damn boat to come alongside for their friends!”

Dunwoody stared around. He felt hurt, enraged that his captain should be humiliated, and suffer some punishment later that he could only guess.

The boatswain was a great hulk of a man with thick black hair in an old-fashioned pigtail that all but reached his belt.

Adam looked at his men. This was the moment to retreat, when danger was very real.

He swung round as Dunwoody exclaimed, “The bosun, sir! He wears a new cutlass!”

Adam stared from him to the burly pigtailed sailor.

Dunwoody was almost squeaking. “Before we left England, sir, I helped to load and re-arm the schooner . . .” He fell silent as understanding flooded Adam's face.

He said, “How long have you owned that cutlass?”

The master barked, “Stop wasting my time, Lieutenant! Talk won't save you now!”

Adam's eyes flashed. “Nor you, I think,
sir!
”

The boatswain gave a shrug. “I bin an American citizen for three years!” He tapped his cutlass, which was thrust through his belt. “A souvenir from my days under another flag,
sir!
” He spat out each word, his eyes never leaving Adam's face.

“Well, then.” Adam's fingers touched the hilt of his sword and he felt the marines stir at his back. “My midshipman reminded me of something. It was the schooner
Maid of Rye.
She had just been taken into naval service and sailed for the Cape ahead of me. She was never heard of again, and was presumed lost in a storm.” How could he stay so calm when every nerve was screaming at him to cut this man down?

The master interrupted hotly, “So we're wreckers now, are we?” But he sounded less confident.

Adam ignored him. “I heard my men talking about the schooner, and my armourer remarked that she was to be the first of His Majesty's ships to be supplied with the new cutlass.” His hand shot out and plucked the naked blade from his belt. “Not
three years ago,
it would seem!” He snapped, “Take him, Sergeant!” The astonished seaman fell back, confused by the swift change of fortune. Adam added, “I would not resist. My sergeant of marines is known for his hasty temper!”

The boatswain yelled, “
Do something!
What the hell's the matter with you?”

Adam said, “This man will be removed to my ship, and when we reach Cape Town I am sure he will be punished. He could only have got the cutlass from the
Maid of Rye.
At best mutiny, at worst piracy—take your choice. If, as you claim, you have served in the King's Navy, you will know the punishment.”

He turned to Deacon. “Strip him!”

Two marines tore off the man's coat and shirt. His back was a mass of deep, ugly scars, like one of Trevenen's victims, Adam thought bitterly.

The master said, “This is a neutral vessel, Lieutenant!”

The boatswain was on his knees as Starr drove the cutlass into the deck so that it stood quivering like something alive.

“You bastard! What did you do to some poor Jack, I wonder?” The boatswain was pleading, “It weren't my fault, sir!” Even his colonial accent seemed to have gone. “You gotta believe me!”

Adam looked at him. It was little enough, and but for Dun-woody he would have missed it completely.

He was surprised how unruffled he sounded. “Captain Tobias, your vessel is detained for further investigation. If you are carrying deserters amongst your company they will be returned to the fleet and pressed into service. For harbouring that grovelling object you could also be charged with concealment of a felony on the high seas.”

He was to remember the subdued master's words for a long time to come. He looked around the brig's deck and said quietly, “This ship is all I have.”

What Adam would have thought if they'd taken
Anemone
from him after a court martial for his actions. The thought drove away all sympathy, and he said, “Signal the ship, Mr Dunwoody. I want a prize-crew. Mr Lewis can carry word to the vice-admiral.” He looked at the master. “After that? We shall see.” He watched another boat pulling from
Anemone
's shadow. It gave him time to think, phase by phase as his uncle had taught him to do.

Sergeant Deacon jabbed the crouching boatswain with his boot. “What about this thing, sir?”

“Put him in irons and send him over in the cutter.”

The American master said, “You take a lot of authority on yourself for a mere lieutenant!”

“I lied. I command
Anemone.
Captain Adam Bolitho, at your service!”

He saw the desperation in the man's eyes and said coldly, “Tell me your true destination, Captain Tobias. If you were an enemy I would respect you. But any one who tries to harm my country under the guise of neutrality can expect no mercy from me.”

He heard shouts from the other longboat and watched the struggle on the other man's face.

The boatswain shouted at him, “Tell him, you cowardly bastard! I'll not dance a hangman's jig for you!” He struggled round as the marines pinioned his legs with irons. “An island called Lorraine! That's where!”

Adam looked at the master and saw him sag. “You see, Captain Tobias, you lost your chance. A pity.” As more men swarmed aboard he snapped, “Take him too!”

Adam saw Lewis, his hat awry, pushing through the throng of people.

He said, “Disarm these men, and have the marines cover them at all times.”

He looked at the departing boat and turned away. He found he could not bear to watch Tobias staring astern at his lost command.

He continued, “Sail to Cape Town and find my uncle. I will give you some written orders. Can you manage that?”

He saw Starr nudge the sergeant. They probably knew Lewis was to be prize-master simply because he was the least competent of the frigate's three lieutenants.

“Aye,
aye,
sir!”

“Take Deacon's advice. He was once in a slave uprising. He knows how to deal with things like this.”

He put his hand on the midshipman's shoulder. It felt as hot as a raging fever.

“Lorraine Island, Mr Dunwoody. A barren place, and not too far from Bourbon or Mauritius. I should have guessed. But for you . . .” He shook him gently. “Well, we'll not think of that. We shall rejoin the ship.” He saw the brig's crew being disarmed and sorted into watches. There was no resistance now.

Once back aboard the
Anemone
Adam wasted no time in explaining to Martin and the second lieutenant, Dacre, and of course the sailing-master, Old Partridge.

“The brig carries stores enough for a much larger vessel, maybe other evidence if we had had the time to carry out a thorough search. My clerk can write orders for Mr Lewis. Then it's up to us.”

Martin exclaimed, “It might take weeks for him to find our ships, sir!”

Adam looked at their intent faces and smiled gently.

“Really, Aubrey, I do not think I said anything about
waiting.
”

He saw Starr walking aft, the cutlass grasped in his hand.

He said quietly, “But for that simple blade and Dunwoody's quick observation . . .” He grinned suddenly. “But we have troubles enough, eh? So let's be about it!”