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 prancing 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 hatred, 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' astonished face. 'The capitaine can arrange it, I am certain.'
Muijadi ran to a window and snatched a telescope from one of his men.
Over his shoulder he said hoarsely, 'You will stay as a 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 aa 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 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 command ant, 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, Senor.' 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 another 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 information… 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 Worse than Most
Bolitho 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 towards 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 rotting 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 palisade, 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.'
