moved. Bolitho fired both of Marrack's pistols into the crowd and thrust them into his belt. He drew his own hanger and parried away a pike which plunged towards him like a spear. Despite all the danger and terror he found he was able to remember his first boarding attack. A lieutenant had taken away his midshipman's dirk and had said scornfully, 'That's only fit for playing games. You need a man's weapon for this kind of work! ' He thought of Grenfell's dirk hanging in the Gorgon. He had left his behind, too. A face loomed above him, the man screaming like a fiend, although in what language Bolitho could not tell. He felt a violent blow on the side of his head and saw the man's arm going up, his sword pale against the black sky. Bolitho twisted his body round and struck upwards with the hanger. He felt the pain of the blow lance up his arm, saw the man and sword fall into the gasping, struggling figures as if swallowed up. He heard a shrill cry and saw Eden groping on the deck, while above him a figure swung a musket like a club. A pistol exploded, revealing the man's glaring eyes, his fierce concentration giving way to a distorted mask of agony as a pistol ball flung him down. Bolitho dragged Eden to his feet, hacking out at a running figure, but feeling the blade slice through the air. Hope shouted, 'Swivel gun! ' He gestured to the little rail across the poop. 'Lively there! Fall back! ' They needed no bidding. Parrying and slashing, dragging the wounded as best they could, the survivors fought their way aft to the poop. Hope bellowed, 'Down, lads! ' He thrust at a charging man with his hanger even as the coxswain put a match to the swivel gun which he had mounted on the rail. The man cut down by Hope's sword must have been carrying a loaded pistol, for as the swivel let out a savage bang and sent a packed charge of canister shot into the advancing shadows the pistol hit the deck and fired even though its owner was dead. The ball struck the lieutenant in the shoulder and he fell beside the smoking swivel without a sound. As their ears recovered from the swivel's vicious detonation Bolitho heard the cries and screams of men caught in the deadly canister. No wonder old seamen called a swivel 'the daisy-cutter'. Then from right forward in the beakhead he heard the familiar harsh tones of Lieutenant Tregorren, the sudden rush of feet and the cheers of the other boat's crew. It was more than enough for the brig's company. Sharks or not, they were leaping overboard, ignoring the yells and curses of their comrades who were too badly hurt to follow. Tregorren strode aft, pausing merely to bring a belaying pin down on the skull of someone trying to climb on to the main chains. He peered at the men by the rail. 'Take care of Mr Hope! ' The belaying pin pointed and gestured like an obscene fist. 'Two men on the wheel! Mr Dancer, pass the word to cut the cable! ' He rocked back on his heels, his eyes searching amongst the rigging. 'Hands aloft and loose tops'ls! Come along, jump about, my children, if you don't want to run ashore! ' Bolitho knelt beside the wounded lieutenant, feeling his pain, his strength ebbing away. He said, 'That was a brave thing you did, sir.' Hope said between his teeth, 'Nothing else I could do.' He tried to pat Bolitho's arm. 'You'll know what I mean one day.' Tregorren towered above them. 'Mr Eden! Take charge of this officer! ' He faced Bolitho. 'So you're still with us, eh?' He shrugged. 'Well, get aloft and chase those laggards! ' The brig was already heeling in the offshore breeze, her hastily released topsails flapping and cracking like musket fire as she tilted free of her severed cable. 'Put up your helm! ' Several shots whimpered overhead, fired by whom, nobody knew. 'Loose the heads'ls! ' Tregorren seemed everywhere.
'Lay her on the starboard tack! ' Bolitho clung to the shrouds and stared abeam where a fire was still burning fiercely to show where the marines had created a diversion. Tiny lanterns moved this way and that, and he realized they were on the other vessel, which had already changed her bearing considerably. After the long pull around the headland, the apprehension and fear, the actual cutting-out had taken less than twenty minutes. It seemed incredible, and as he paused to think of the nearness of death he felt the sweat like ice-rime on his spine. He slid down a backstay and found Tregorren bellowing orders down the after companion. Dancer ran across the deck and said, 'God, I was worried for you! I thought we were never going to engage! ' He turned as a man yelled, 'Sir! There's a whole lot of British seamen battened down 'ere! ' Tregorren snapped, 'See to them! No doubt they are some of the brig's own company.' He caught the man's arm. 'But prisoners, sick or bloody well dying, I want 'em up here on deck! ' He lowered his face to the compass box. 'Hold her steady, quartermaster. As close to the wind as you can. I want no mauling from that battery! ' 'Aye, aye, sir.' The men at the wheel eased the spokes deftly. 'Full an' bye, sir! West by south! ' Bolitho watched the figures emerging from the main hatch. Even in the darkness he could sense their disbelief as they were helped and pushed on to the open deck. One man lurched aft and touched his forehead. 'Starkie, sir. Master's mate of the Sandpiper' He swayed, and would have fallen but for Bolitho. Tregorren was watching the released seamen, his chin sunk on his neckcloth. 'You the senior?' 'Aye, sir. Cap'n Wade and the other officers were killed.' He dropped his eyes. 'We have been in hell, sir.' 'Possibly.' Tregorren strode to the foot of the mainmast and squinted up at the flapping topsail. 'Get some of those hands to work and set the spanker and then the fores'l. I want to get some sea-room.' He turned and added shortly, 'Well, Mr Starkie, you can take charge aft as you are the best qualified.' He looked him slowly up and down, as if his eyes could pierce the darkness. 'Although it would seem you are less so for defending one of His Majesty's ships, eh?' He hurried away, shouting for Dancer and thrusting through the dazed seamen like a plough. The master's mate consulted the compass and the set of the topsail and said harshly. 'He had no cause to speak like that. We had no chance.' He looked at Bolitho and added, 'You fought well back there. Some of these devils were laughing at what they would do if your ship tried to force home an attack.' 'But who are they?' Starkie let out a great sigh. 'Pirates, corsairs, call 'em what you will, but I swear I have seen none worse, and I have been at sea all my years.' Bolitho saw two men carrying Lieutenant Hope to the companion and prayed he would be strong enough to survive. Several seamen had died, and it was a miracle there were not more to be buried. Starkie said, 'They kept us aboard to crew the poor Sandpiper. Like galley slaves we were. Beaten and treated like scum. They had only enough hands for the guns. But enough to keep us cowed, I can tell you.' Eden had joined them. 'Any midshipmen, w-were there?' Starkie looked at him for several seconds. 'Two. Only two. Mr Murray died in the attack. Mr Flowers, he was about your age, well, they killed him later.' He turned away. 'Now leave me be, I don't want to think about it.' Tregorren came aft again. He sounded almost jovial as he called, 'She answers well, Mr Starkie. A fine little vessel. Fourteen guns too, I see.' Eden said, 'Mr S-Starkie says that the pirates are the worst he's s-seen, sir! ' Tregorren was still studying the brig, his head cocked as the sails shuddered and banged before the rudder brought the ship back on course again. 'Indeed, indeed. Well, the other pirate vessel has weighed.' He faced Starkie. 'And where would she be going, d'you reckon?' Starkie shrugged. 'They have another rendezvous to the north of here. Cap'n Wade was searching for it when we were attacked.' 'I see.' Tregorren walked aft to the taffrail. 'Be first light in an hour or so. We will be able to signal Gorgon. Put a good man aloft as lookout. We may be able to catch that one and give him a nice dance at the end of a halter.' He swung angrily on Eden. 'Well, what arejyow gaping at? I hear you were useless during the attack! Weeping for your mother, were you? Nobody to protect you?' Bolitho said, 'Easy, sir, some of the people are listening.' 'And damn you for your impertinence! ' Tregorren's mood had changed like a savage squall. Til have no more of it! ' Bolitho stood his ground. 'Mr Eden was knocked down during the boarding, sir.' He could feel his caution dropping away, his future already in ruins. But he was sick of Tregorren's sarcasm and brutality towards those unable to fight back. 'We were, you recall, outnumbered, sir. We had been expecting some support.' Tregorren stared at him as if suffering a seizure. 'Are you suggesting -' He tugged at his neckcloth. 'Are you daring to suggest that I was late in boarding?'
He leaned forward, his face inches from Bolitho's. 'Well, are you?' 'I was saying that Mr Eden did well, sir. He had lost his weapon, and he is twelve years old, sir.' They faced each other, oblivious to everything about them. Then Tregorren nodded very slowly. 'So be it, Mr Bolitho. You will join the masthead lookout until I say differently. When we return to the ship I intend to have you put under arrest for gross insubordination.'
He nodded again. 'See how the family likes that, eh?' Bolitho felt his heart pumping against his ribs like a hammer. He had to repeat over and over in his mind: He wants me to strike him. He wants me to strike him. It would make Tregorren's actions complete, and for Bolitho final. 'Is that all, sir?' He barely recognized his own voice. 'Aye.' The lieutenant swung away, his sudden move making the mesmerized spectators scatter like rabbits. Tor the present.' Dancer walked to the main shrouds with him and said hotly, 'That was a foul thing to say! I felt like knocking him to the deck, Dick! ' 'So did I. ' Bolitho swung himself on to the ratlines and stared up at the mainyard. 'And he knew it.' Dancer said awkwardly, 'Never mind. We took the brig. That must count for something with Captain Conway.' 'It is all we have.' He started to climb. 'Be off, Martyn, or he'll have you all aback, too.' 'When you have finished, Mr Dancer! ' The voice searched him out from the shadows. 'Be so good as to find a cook and have the galley fire lit. These people look like scarecrows, and I can't abide filth! ' Dancer called, 'At once, sir! ' He looked up at the black shrouds, but Bolitho had already vanished.
7. Mr Starkie's Story
