destroyed Sir Richard's flagship Hyperion before Trafalgar.' He nodded irritably. 'Continue.'
Tyacke looked at him with dislike. 'We beat as close as we could but they were on to us, and gave us a good peppering before we could show them a clean pair of heels. Eventually we found the convoy and I closed to report to the rearadmiral in charge.'
One of the captains asked, 'Had the frigate already left the convoy?'
'Aye, sir.' He paused, expecting something further, then he said, 'I told RearAdmiral Herrick what I had seen.'
'How did he receive you?'
'I spoke through a speaking-trumpet, sir.' He added with barely concealed sarcasm, 'The enemy were too close for comfort, and there seemed some urgency in the air!'
The Judge Advocate smiled. 'That was well said, Commander Tyacke.' The mood changed back again. 'Now it is very important that you recall exactly what the rearadmiral's reply was. I imagine it would have been written in Larne's signal book?'
'Probably.' Tyacke ignored his frown. 'As I recall, RearAdmiral Herrick ordered me to find Sir Richard Bolitho's North Sea squadron. Then he changed his mind and told me to report directly to Admiral Gambier's flagship Prince of Wales off Copenhagen.'
Cotgrave said quietly, 'Even after seven months, during which time you must have had much to occupy your attention, the fact that RearAdmiral Herrick changed his mind still seems to surprise you? Pray tell the court why.'
Tyacke was caught off guard. He replied, 'Sir Richard Bolitho was his friend, sir, and in any case…'
'In any case, Commander Tyacke, it would have been sensible, would it not, to find Sir Richard's squadron first, as it was only in a supporting role against the Danes at that time?'
The President snapped, 'You will answer, sir!'
Tyacke said evenly, 'That must have been what I was thinking.'
Cotgrave turned to Herrick. 'You have a question or two perhaps?'
Herrick regarded him calmly. 'None. This officer speaks the truth, as well as being a most gallant fighter.'
One of the captains said, 'There is a question from the back, sir.'
'I am sorry to interrupt the proceedings, even delay refreshment, but the President did offer to have matters explained to a mere landsman.'
Bolitho turned round, remembering the voice but unable to identify the speaker. Someone with a great deal of authority to make a joke at Hamett-Parker's expense without fear of attack. Dressed all in black, it was Sir Paul Sillitoe, once the Prime Minister's personal adviser, whom Bolitho had first met at a reception at Godschale's grand house near Blackwall Reach. That had been before the attack on Copenhagen.
Sillitoe was thin-faced and dark, with deep hooded eyes, very self-contained; and a man one would never know, really know. But he had been charming to Catherine on that occasion when the Duke of Portland, the prime minister at the time, had attempted to snub her. Standing amidst so many now, he was still quite alone.
Sillitoe continued, 'I would be grateful if you would clarify the difference 'twixt two seafaring terms which have been mentioned several times already.' He looked directly at Bolitho and gave the briefest of smiles. Bolitho could imagine him doing the very same while peering along the barrel of a duelling pistol.
Sillitoe went on silkily, 'One witness will describe the convoy's possible tactics as being 'scattered,' and another will term it 'dispersed. ' I am all confusion.'
Bolitho thought his tone suggested otherwise, and could not help wondering if Sillitoe had interrupted the Judge Advocate for a different purpose.
The latter said patiently, 'If it pleases, Sir Paul. To scatter a convoy means that each ship's master can go his own way, that is to say, move out from the centre like the spokes of a wheel. To disperse would mean to leave each master to sail as he pleases, but all to the original destination. Is that clear, Sir Paul?'
'One further question, if you will bear with me, sir. The ships' masters who have claimed they could have outsailed the enemy ships-were they all requesting the order to disperse?'
Cotgrave glanced questioningly at the President and then replied, 'They did, Sir Paul.'
Sillitoe bowed elegantly. 'Thank you.'
Hamett-Parker snapped, 'Then if that is all, gentlemen, this hearing is adjourned for refreshments.' He stalked out, followed by the other members of his court.
'You may dismiss, Commander Tyacke.'
Tyacke waited until most of those in the cabin had bustled away and Herrick had left with his escort. Then he shook Bolitho's hand and said quietly, 'I hoped we would meet soon, Sir Richard.' He glanced at the deserted table where the sword was still shining in the April sunlight. 'But not like this.'
Together they made their way out to the broad quarterdeck, where many of the visitors had broken into small groups to discuss the trial so far, all to the obvious irritation of watchkeepers and working seamen alike.
'Is everything well with you?' Bolitho stood beside him to stare at a graceful schooner tacking past; he guessed Tyacke was comparing her with his lost Miranda.
'I should have written to you, Sir Richard, after all that you did for me.' He gave a great sigh. 'I have been appointed to the new anti-slavery patrol. We sail for the African coast shortly. Most of my men are volunteers-more to escape from the fleet than out of any moral convictions!' His eyes crinkled in a grin. 'I never thought they'd get it through Parliament after all these years.'
Bolitho could agree with him. England had been at war with France almost continuously for fifteen years, and all the while the slave traffic had gone on without hindrance: a brutal trade in human beings which ended in death from the lash as often as from fever.
And yet, there were many who had voted against its abolition, describing the traders and plantation owners in the Caribbean as loyal servants of the Crown, men ready to defend their rights against the enemy. Supporters usually added the extra bait for their cause, that a plentiful supply of slaves would continue to mean cheaper sugar for the world's market, as well as releasing other men for active duty at sea or in the army.
This new patrol might suit Tyacke very well, he thought. The private man with a small company which he could educate to his own standards.
Tyacke said, 'I fear I did little good for RearAdmiral Herrick's cause just now, Sir Richard.'
Bolitho replied, 'It was the truth.'
'Will he win the day, do you think, sir?'
'We must.' He wondered afterwards if Tyacke had noticed that he had not said he.
Tyacke remarked, 'Ah, here comes your faithful cox'n.'
Allday moved effortlessly through the chattering groups and touched his hat.
'Begging your pardon, Sir Richard, but I thought you might want to take your meal in the Master's chartroom.' He gave a grim smile. 'Mr Julyan was most firm on the matter!'
Bolitho answered readily, 'That would suit very well. I have no stomach for this today.' He glanced around at the jostling, apparently carefree people who were waiting to be called to their refreshment, seeing instead this deck as it had been on that dismal September morning. The dead and the wounded, the first lieutenant cut cleanly in half by a massive French ball. 'I do not feel I belong here.'
Tyacke held out his hand. 'I have to leave, Sir Richard. Please offer my best wishes to Lady Somervell.' He glanced at Keen, who was waiting to see him over the side to his gig. 'And to you too, sir.'
Keen had known what it must have cost Tyacke to go all the way to Zennor to see him marry Zenoria, to experience again the shocked stares and brutal curiosity to which he would never become accustomed.
'I thank you, Commander Tyacke. I shall not forget.'
Tyacke raised his hat and the marines' muskets thumped in salute, a cloud of pipeclay floating from their crossbelts like smoke. The calls shrilled and Bolitho gazed after him until the gig was pulling strongly away from the ship's great shadow.
'Join me in the Master's quarters, will you, Val?'
Someone was ringing a bell, and the small tide of visitors began to flow towards the temptation of food, brought on board, it was said, from the George Inn itself.
Ozzard had prepared a meal which seemed to consist mostly of several kinds of cheese, fresh bread from Portsmouth, and some claret. He had learned very well what Bolitho could and could not take when he was under great strain.
