withdrawn. The. war was over. The French had invaded.
He said, 'Whatever the news, Thomas, Inch is eager to tell it. Much more canvas and he'll dismast his ship!'
They both smiled. Inch had never been renowned for his ship-handling. But his courage and his dogged loyalty made up for that and much more.
Odin was already standing into the wind, her sails banging and puffing in torment as Inch took the way off his ship. _
Wolfe said, 'Boat's in the water, sir.' He glared at a boatswain's mate. 'Man the side!'
Herrick muttered, 'It had better be something useful. Here we are, in March now, and no nearer a solution than when we left Spithead last September.' He ran his gaze over his command and added, 'But we've made our mark, none the less.'
Inch clambered through the entry port, his hat awry, his long horse-face bobbing to the side party and saluting marines.
He saw Bolitho and Herrick and almost ran towards them.
Bolitho smiled. 'Easy, you'll have the people thinking we are on the retreat!'
Inch allowed himself to be led aft to the cabin before he burst out with, 'We are mustering a great fleet, sir. Admiral Sir Hyde Parker is to command. He will break through the Sound and attack Copenhagen!'
Bolitho nodded slowly. It was much as Beauchamp had hinted. With the respite given to the Navy's scattered resources by the Baltic ice, it would soon be time to act. Before Tsar Paul could combine the strength of Sweden, Prussia and his own forces for an all-out attack, it would be necessary to intimidate the most vulnerable power, and Denmark was the obvious choice.
Bolitho felt no satisfaction in his heart. He remembered the green spires, the pleasant people, the elegant buildings of the city.
Herrick asked, 'Who is Hyde Parker's second-in-command?' Inch looked perplexed. `That is something I did not understand. It is Vice-Admiral Nelson.'
Herrick banged his palms together. 'Typical! Nelson, the man who beat the Frenchies at the Nile, somebody who Jack would follow into the teeth of hell itself if need be, is expected to serve under Hyde Parker!'
Bolitho said nothing, but he knew what Herrick meant. It was like condemning Nelson for being a victor, a hero in his country's eyes. Hyde Parker was twenty years older than Nelson and very rich, and that was about all Bolitho knew of him. Except that he had a wife young enough to be his daughter, who was known throughout the fleet somewhat irreverently as Batter-Pudding.
Inch dragged a long envelope' from inside his coat and handed it to Bolitho.
'Orders, sir.' He swallowed hard, his eyes trying to pierce the sealed cover. `Our part.'
Herrick took the cue. 'Come to my cabin, Francis. We will drink a glass and you can tell me the latest scandal.'
Bolitho sat down slowly and slit open the envelope.
It was neatly and precisely laid down, and he could almost hear Beauchamp's dry tones as he read through the list of ships, some famous, many of which he had seen several times throughout his service. Their captains, too. As boys, as lieutenants, then as experienced commanders. It was a formidable fleet, but if the enemy was allowed to combine its forces, Hyde Parker's ships of the line, including Bolitho's, would be outnumbered by more than three to one.
He recalled what he had seen and learned in Copenhagen, the talk of block-ships and moored batteries, of the galleys and gun-brigs, bomb vessels, and knew this was to be no skirmish, no show of force to deter a would-be attacker. This was in deadly earnest, and the Danes would react with equal determination.
He called for Ozzard but Allday entered the cabin instead.
'We are to attack, Allday.' It was strange how simple it was to speak with him. `Would you ask Captain Herrick to come aft again, please?'
Allday nodded grimly. 'Aye, sir.' He glanced at the two swords on their rack. 'And I thought we might get away with it this time, sir. I reckon we've done our share.'
Bolitho smiled. 'There are no shares.'
He loosely outlined the content of the despatch to Herrick and Inch without emotion. Their part in the attack was not yet clear. Admiral Damerum was to command the supporting squadron to protect supply vessels, prevent interference from any French ships which might try and slip through the blockade to join with the battle. It did not seem that his role was to be of much importance.
Herrick said at length, `We'll just have to make the best of it.'
Inch was more definite. `Pity our Nel is not in the van, with our own rear-admiral in support!'
Herrick nodded glumly. 'I'll drink to that sentiment, Francis!'
Bolitho lowered his face to hide a smile. Inch's supreme confidence in what he could do was unnerving.
He said, 'The fleet will rendezvous outside the Sound towards the end of the month.'
He tried not to think of her face, what she would have to endure when the news broke in England. The end of the month, he had said. It was barely two weeks away.
'After that, it will be up to Sir Hyde Parker.'
He pictured the narrow Sound Channel with the great battery of Elsinore. beyond. If the Swedish guns opened fire, too, the 'squadrons would be cut to pieces from both directions at once.
Inch said, 'I should like to return to my ship, sir.' He looked suddenly troubled. 'I have some letters for the squadron.'
As the two captains left the cabin Bolitho heard Herrick ask, 'How is your wife?'
'Hannah is well, thank you. We are expecting our first child.' The rest was cut off by the closing door.
Bolitho stood up and paced restlessly about the cabin. Once, none of them had cared very much beyond the day, or the one to follow. Now, Herrick and Inch had wives. He stopped by the stern windows, feeling the shudder of the tiller-head beneath his cabin as Herrick brought the ship around to make a lee for Odin's gig.
This was what the flag, his flag at the mizzen truck really meant. Not just another fight, a bewildering duty which required only obedience and courage, it was people. Men like Herrick and Inch with wives who had their own sort of battle to fight each time a man-of-war weighed anchor. Ordinary men with hopes and problems who had no choice but to trust their commander.
He remembered with sudden clarity her words as they had held each other in that last embrace.
'Come back safely to me, Richard. I ask for nothing more.'
Now, he had that kind of responsibility, too.
He watched Odin's misty shape lengthening as she changed tack, shivering through the thick glass panes, her sails like wings against the dull clouds. R
An hour later, with the squadron once more sailing in a tight line, Herrick came to him again. Bolitho was still at the window, his hands on the sill as he took the weight off his aching leg.
Bolitho saw Herrick's reflection in the salt-spattered glass and said, 'We will call all the captains aboard when we know what is expected of us. I should like to see them before we give battle.' He thought of Browne. We happy few. 'Make a signal to Lookout to recall Relentless from her patrol.'
Herrick nodded. 'I'll do it now. The light is getting poor.' He watched Bolitho's uncertainty. 'Will you tell him, sir?'
Bolitho did not have to ask whom he meant. 'It is his right, Thomas. None of it was Adam's doing.'
Herrick eyed him sadly. 'Or yours, sir.'
'Perhaps.' He turned and faced him. 'Now be off and make that signal. Then we will have supper together, eh?'
Alone again, Bolitho sat at his table and listened to the ship's voices. Rigging and spars, timbers and tackle, all murmuring their own private conspiracy.
Then he dragged some paper from a drawer and lifted a pen from its stand which had been made by Tregoye, the carpenter. A fellow Cornishman, he said little, but had left the stand as a present, knowing Bolitho would understand in some way.
He thought for a few moments, remembering how she had held him, and also the moments of peace, her hands folded in her lap like a child.
Then, without hesitation, he began to write.
