Bolitho blinked rapidly and saw Allday's gilt buttons, the two swords at his back.
He whispered, 'Allday, old friend, I-' He wiped his face as if there was a cobweb across it. Something like a shadow was covering Allday.
Bolitho turned despairingly to the girl again. The eyes, the mouth, and then the shadow moved over her so that she seemed to draw away although he held her hands and knew she had not moved.
Tuson snapped, 'Bandage.' He stooped over Bolitho and peered at his eyes. 'Early days, sir.'
He had tested the right eye first to give him hope. Tuson had known that the other one was the most badly damaged.
The disappointment left Bolitho spent, unprotesting as the bandage brought back the darkness.
A door opened and he heard Keen ask, 'Well?'
Tuson replied, 'Better than I dared to hope, sir.'
Bolitho said, 'Blind in one lamp, not too fine in the other, Val.'
The girl said, 'I'd better go, sir.'
Bolitho held out his hand. 'No. Stay with me.'
Keen said, 'The squadron is in sight, sir.' He sounded defeated. 'I shall report to you on the hour.'
Bolitho held the girl's hand like a lifeline. He leaned back in the chair and said, 'If the weather allows, Val, I want all captains to repair on board tomorrow. But first signal Barracouta to convey Inch's report on board directly.'
He had expected Keen or certainly Tuson to protest; their silence brought home the reality more firmly than any words.
Doors opened and closed and then Bolitho asked, 'Are we alone?'
'Yes, sir.'
Bolitho reached out and touched her hair. He must speak with his captains. They needed leadership, not despair. Jobert would use every weakness like a weapon.
He felt her move and said softly, 'Don't cry, my girl, you have given too many tears already.' He continued to stroke her hair, soothing himself and unable to see the pity in her eyes.
Then he said, 'You must help me. Then when I meet my little band tomorrow they will find their vice-admiral, not some helpless cripple, eh?'
Later, when a boat brought Inch's report to the flagship and Keen carried it aft to the great cabin, he found Bolitho sitting as before, but with the girl asleep against his legs.
Keen said, 'I am glad she kept you company, sir.'
Bolitho touched her hair again but she did not stir. 'You understand, don't you, Val? I needed her presence, her voice. I have become too used to the ways of men, the demands of strategy.'
Keen let him talk and all the while Bolitho's hand stroked the girl's long hair as she lay curled up at his side.
Bolitho continued in the same empty voice, 'When your day comes to hoist your own flag, let nothing distract you. I was reluctant to let go of the personal contact when I became an admiral. I longed to be a part of whichever ship flew my flag, used to think of individual faces and names, the people, d'you see? Because I could not stay apart I now blame myself for those who died, with Supreme all but lost.'
'You must not think like that, sir.'
Bolitho said, 'So when your tune is piped, Val, forget the faces, the pain you may cause them!' He was shouting and the girl opened her eyes and stared up at him, then questioningly at Keen.
'But I cannot!' He lowered his head, the anger gone from him. 'And it is tearing me apart.'
Bolitho took the girl's hand. 'Go now. But please visit me again.'
He held her hand to his lips. 'Brave Zenoria.' The door closed and Bolitho heard Allday escort her to her cabin.
Keen waited, feeling useless because he could not help. Bolitho said, 'Open the report, Val. There's work to be done.' He touched the bandage and added briskly, 'So let's be about it.'
The following morning, while the ships lay hove-to in their various angles, the captains boarded Argonaute as ordered.
In his cabin Bolitho sat facing a mirror and tried to compose his thoughts, as he had throughout the night. He could not accept what had happened, but he had told himself a thousand times he would not submit to it.
He listened to the shrill of calls as the last captain was piped aboard.
Bolitho smiled bitterly. It was more like being an actor than a sea officer. Should he have done this? Bravado or necessity? He felt different in some way, and it was not solely because of a clean, new shirt and a careful wash under Allday's supervision.
'Ready, sir?' Tuson always seemed to be there.
Bolitho pressed his hands onto his knees and answered, 'Aye.'
The bandage was removed from his right eye, the now familiar pad with its sweet-smelling ointment did its work, and Tuson said, 'With respect, Sir Richard, you are a better patient than you were.'
Bolitho opened his eyes and stared at his cloudy reflection in the mirror. The small scars on his face were less noticeable because of his sunburned skin, but the eye glared back at him, angry and red-rimmed. It did not look like the one he could feel in his head.
He looked beyond the mirror, at Ozzard carefully brushing his uniform coat with its gleaming epaulettes. His best coat. It had to be a perfect performance. Allday craned forward to make certain he had not missed a single stray hair with his razor, and Yovell was busy with some papers at the table. The scene was almost set. He raised his eyes and saw the girl looking down over his shoulder.
She smiled gently, like a conspirator, which she was. She moved a comb over Bolitho's hair, loosening it across his forehead so that it partly covered the other bandage on his left eye. She had already arranged his queue and tied a ribbon which even Allday admitted was better than anything he could do.
Bolitho heard faint voices and the stamp of feet. The captains' meeting would be in the wardroom beneath his cabin. He had to leave his quarters free; for escape if things went wrong.
He said, 'Thank you, Zenoria, you have done your best with poor material.'
Their glances met in the mirror. She did not reply, but he saw the pleasure on her face. With her hair tied back again she had a look of determination in her brown eyes.
Bolitho tried to think of Inch's report, rambling as usual, for he loved to write lengthy descriptions of everything no matter how trivial. But each report contained something useful. This one had an item which was more than that. A key perhaps, or was it one more sly trap?
Tuson insisted, 'Don't overtax the eye, sir, and most certainly keep the other one covered. If you get proper treatment soon-'
Bolitho looked at him. The eye felt as if there was something in it. Tuson told him that would pass, given time.
Bolitho said, 'Your care has been excellent.'
Tuson would not be deterred. 'Unless you avoid the other demands of this squadron, I cannot answer for the consequences.'
The door opened and Keen stood watching him, his hat beneath his arm. Bolitho noticed that he too was wearing his best dress coat. The second principal player, he thought.
'They are assembled, sir.'
Bolitho glimpsed him in the mirror and saw the quick exchange of glances with the girl who dressed like a boy. He saw too how her hand moved to her breast, and the look of understanding on Keen's face.
Bolitho touched his bandage. He was glad for them, no matter what difficulties lay ahead. He was not jealous, only conscious of a sense of envy.
He stood up and adjusted to the roll of the deck. The ships lay-to in a hot southerly breeze from Africa. It would be good to get this done and be under way again.
He slipped his arms into the coat and held one up as Allday clipped on the old sword.
Allday muttered, 'You watch yourself, sir.'
Bolitho touched his thick arm and smiled, 'I have work to do. I believe I have the makings of a plan.' He added quietly, 'But thank you, old friend.' He glanced at their faces, trying not to blink as his eye pricked painfully. 'And all
