The noise faded, and Bolitho exclaimed, “Thomas! You, of all people!”
Rear-Admiral Thomas Herrick replaced his hat and took the proffered hand. “Sir Richard.” Then he smiled, and for those few seconds Bolitho saw the face of his oldest friend.
Tyacke stood nearby, watching impassively; he knew most of the story, and the rest he could fathom for himself.
He waited to be presented. But he saw only an executioner.
Herrick hesitated inside the great cabin as if, for a moment, he was uncertain why he had come. He glanced around, acknowledging Ozzard with his tray, remembering him. As usual on such occasions, Ozzard revealed neither surprise nor curiosity, no matter what he might be thinking.
Bolitho said, “Here, Thomas. Try this chair.”
Herrick lowered himself with a grunt into the high-backed bergere and thrust out his legs. He said, “This is more like it.”
Bolitho said, “Did you find Wakeful a mite small?”
Herrick smiled slightly. “No, not at all. But her captain, Hyde-a bright young fellow with an even brighter future, I shouldn’t wonder-he wanted to entertain me. Humour me. I don’t need it. Never did.”
Bolitho studied him. Herrick was a year or so younger than himself, but he looked old, tired, and not only because of his grey hair and the deep lines of strain around his mouth. They would be the result of his amputated arm. It had been a close thing.
Ozzard padded nearer and waited.
Bolitho said, “A drink, perhaps.” There was a thud on deck. “Your gear is being brought aboard.”
Herrick looked at his legs, stained and wet from his climb up the ship’s tumblehome. “I can’t order you to take me to Halifax.”
“It is a pleasure, Thomas. There is so much I need to hear.”
Herrick looked across at Ozzard. “Some ginger beer, if you have any?”
Ozzard did not blink. “Of course, sir.”
Herrick sighed. “I saw that rascal Allday when I came aboard. He doesn’t change much.”
“He’s a proud father now, Thomas. A little girl. In truth, he shouldn’t be here.”
Herrick took the tall glass. “None of us should.” He examined Bolitho as he sat in another chair. “You look well. I’m glad.” Then, almost angrily, “You know why I’m here? The whole damned fleet seems to!”
“The mutiny. Reaper was retaken. It was all in my report.”
“I can’t discuss it. Not until I’ve carried out my own investigation.”
“And then?”
Herrick shrugged, and winced. His pain was very evident. The steep climb up Indomitable’s side would have done him no good.
“Court of inquiry. The rest you know. We’ve seen enough mutinies in our time, eh?”
“I know. Adam captured Reaper, by the way.”
“So I hear.” He nodded. “He’d need no urging.”
Calls shrilled overhead and feet thudded across the planking. Tyacke was under sail, changing tack now that the way was clear.
Bolitho said, “I must read my despatches. I’ll not be long.”
“I can tell you some of it. We heard just before we weighed anchor. Wellington has won a great victory over the French at Victoria, their last main stronghold in Spain, I understand. They are in retreat.” His face was closed, distant. “All these years we’ve prayed and waited for this, clung to it when all else seemed lost.” He held out the empty glass. “And now it’s happened, I can’t feel anything, anything at all.”
Bolitho watched him with an indefinable sadness. They had seen and done so much together: blazing sun and screaming gales, blockade and patrols off countless shores, ships lost, good men killed, and more still would die before the last trumpet sounded.
“And you, Thomas? What have you been doing?”
He nodded to Ozzard and took the refilled glass. “The scraps. Visiting dockyards, inspecting coastal defences, anything no one else wanted to do. I was even offered a two-year contract as governor of the new sailors’ hospital. Two years. It was all they could find.”
“And what of this investigation, Thomas?”
“Do you remember John Cotgrave? He was the Judge Advocate at my court martial. He sits at the top of the legal tree where the Admiralty’s concerned. It was his idea.”
Bolitho waited, only the taste of cognac on his tongue to remind him that he had taken a drink. There was no bitterness in Herrick’s tone, not even resignation. It was as if he had lost everything, and believed in nothing, least of all the life he had once loved so dearly.
“They want no long drawn-out drama, no fuss. All they want is a verdict to show that justice is upheld.” He gave the thin smile again. “Has a familiar tune, don’t you think?”
He looked towards the stern windows, and the sea beyond. “As for me, I sold the house in Kent. It was too big, anyway. It was so empty, so desolate without…” He hesitated. “Without Dulcie.”
“What will you do, Thomas?”
“After this? I shall quit the navy. I don’t want to be another relic, an old salt-horse who doesn’t want to hear when he is surplus to Their Lordships’ requirements!”
There was a tap at the door, and as the sentry had remained silent Bolitho knew that it was Tyacke.
He entered the cabin and said, “On our new course, Sir Richard. Taciturn and Doon will remain with the convoy as you ordered. The wind’s freshening, but it’ll suit me.”
Herrick said, “You sound pleased with her, Captain Tyacke.”
Tyacke stood beneath one of the lanterns.
“She’s the fastest sailer I’ve ever known, sir.” He turned the scarred side of his face towards him, perhaps deliberately. “I hope you will be comfortable on board, sir.”
Bolitho said, “Will you sup with us this evening, James?”
Tyacke looked at him, and his eyes spoke for him.
“I must ask your forgiveness, sir, but I have some extra duties to attend to. At some other time, I would be honoured.”
The door closed, and Herrick said, “When I’ve left the ship, he means.” Bolitho began to protest. “I do understand. A ship, a King’s ship no less, has mutinied against rightful authority. At any time in war it is a crime beyond comparison, and now when we face a new enemy, with the additional temptation of better pay and more humane treatment, it is all the more dangerous. I will doubtless hear that the uprising was caused by a captain’s brutality… sadism… I have seen it all before, in my early days as a lieutenant.”
He was speaking of Phalarope, without mentioning her name, although it was as if he had shouted it aloud.
“Some will say that the choice of captain was faulty, that it was favouritism, or the need to remove him from his previous appointment-that too is not uncommon. So what do we say? That because of these ‘mistakes’ it was a just solution to dip the colours to an enemy, to mutiny, and to cause the death of that captain, be he saint or damned sinner? There can be no excuse. There never was.” He leaned forward and glanced around the shadowed cabin, but Ozzard had vanished. They were alone. “I am your friend, although at times I have not shown it. But I know you of old, Richard, and could guess what you might do, even if you have not yet considered it. You would risk everything, throw it all away on a point of honour and, may I say it, decency. You would speak up for those mutineers, no matter what it cost. I tell you now, Richard, it would cost you everything. They would destroy you. They would not merely be victims of their own folly-they would be martyrs. Bloody saints, if some had their way!”
He paused: he seemed wearied suddenly. “But you do have many friends. What you have done and have tried to do will not be forgotten. Even that damned upstart Bethune confided that he feared for your reputation. So much envy, so much deceit.”
Bolitho walked past the big chair and laid his hand for a moment on the stooped shoulder.
“Thank you for telling me, Thomas. I want a victory, I crave it, and I know what this has cost you.” He saw his reflection in the salt-smeared glass as the ship fell off another point or so. “I know how you feel.” He sensed the wariness. “How I would feel if anything happened to separate me from Catherine. But duty is one thing, Thomas… it
