He saw the spray burst up beneath the larboard cathead, heard Varlo calling out somebody's name.
Then he saw the land, swinging slowly past the bows, the beautiful figurehead's naked shoulders suddenly etched against the hills which were still in deep, purple shadow.
'All fast, sir!'
Adam saw Napier speaking with the other youth, Ede, gesturing as if to explain something which was happening by the capstan. One with a mother who no longer wrote to inquire after her son's well-being, the other, so deft and gentle with his hands, who had tried to murder his employer.
So he was being over cautious this time. It was his decision.
He smiled briefly. And they were ready.
Daniel Yovell stood below one of the quarterdeck ladders, his hat pulled down to shade his eyes from the first fierce glare of sunlight. He disliked the heat, but made no allowance for it in his dress. His father had been much the same, as far as he could remember. What keeps out the cold, keeps out the heat had been a rule with him. He knew it was a source of amusement to Unrivalled's ship's company, but he was used to that too.
He took a deep breath as he watched the golden glow spreading across the choppy water, giving life to the shoreline with its hills and the darker green of forest further inland. It was a time of day he tried never to miss. He had no responsibilities, no duties; he could merely observe and enjoy it. He had grown used to avoiding the normal rush and urgency of a man of war, without being a part of it.
Like now, he thought. One of the boats had been pulling a long rope from aft and had hauled it beyond the bows to lash it to the anchor cable. He had heard that it was to swing the ship if need be, to train the guns when there was no other way.
He heard partridge the boatswain bawling at some men on the capstan bars.
''Ard work, did you say, Robbins? If the wind gets any, livelier it'll he a bloody sight 'arder!'
Without turning or looking up, Yovell could hear Captain Bolitho speaking with one of his officers. Calm, unruffled. But in the great cabin Yovell had seen the other side of him. Not the captain, but the man, who cared, and was often hurt because of it.
Like the time he had returned on board after his visit to the headquarters at Freetown, after he'd met RearAdmiral Herrick. Yovell knew a good deal about Herrick, and had served with him when he was Sir Richard Bolitho's secretary. Stubborn, pigheaded, with a fine edge between right and wrong. He had known of Herrick's refusal to accept Lady Somervell… Catherine… to see her true strength and value as more than merely Bolitho's lover.
He felt privileged to have shared it. He had seen Catherine's courage in the open boat after the loss of Golden Plover. Unable to conceal her discomfort, her borrowed sailor's garb barely hiding her body from a boat full of men, she had still managed to inspire and encourage them all. Most of them had given up any hope of survival. Yovell had taken comfort from his Bible, but even he had had moments of doubt.
He had heard Adam Bolitho refer to the navy as a family. Richard Bolitho had done so as well. It was no mere coincidence that the other frigate anchored at Freetown when they had arrived had been under James Tyacke's command. Tyacke in his brig Larne had found that open boat and saved them from certain death.
And now there was Thomas Herrick. To Yovell it seemed only yesterday since he had accompanied Catherine to Herrick's house in Kent, where they had found his wife in the grip of typhus. Sir Richard's wife Belinda had been there but had left immediately when she had realized the nature of the illness.
He had heard that Herrick had asked for forgiveness for his behaviour after that. Yovell was ashamed that he found it hard to believe.
Galbraith strode aft and paused to say, 'Nothing to see, I'm afraid.' He glanced at the partly-manned capstan. 'But there's still time, I suppose.'
He half-turned. 'You going up, Sullivan?'
The seaman nodded. 'Cap'n asked me, sir.' He sounded troubled. 'I hate this place. I was here before, once. Long time ago.' His clear eyes were distant, reminiscent. 'We was ashore on a waterin' party, and them devils took one of our lads. The cap'n sent th' marines ashore, but they was too late. They'd cut off his eyelids so that he couldn't close them against the sun, then they pegged him out on an anthill an' watched him die. It must have taken a long time, sir.'
They watched him leap into the shrouds, like a young boy, before he began to climb up towards the maintop.
Yovell removed his spectacles and mopped his face with a large handkerchief.
'I often marvel that such men return to sea again and again, even after what they have seen!'
Galbraith grinned. 'He's no different from the rest of us!' fle touched Yovell's plump arm. 'Or you, for that matter!'
'Deck there! Sail to the nor'-cast!'
Galbraith almost ran up the ladder and saw Bolitho already opening a telescope. Sullivan might resent the other lookout calling a sighting before him.
Galbraith nodded to Midshipman Cousens as he offered his own glass. Ile heard Bolitho say, 'She's Paradox. Makes a fine sight!'
Galbraith adjusted the telescope with care. It was strange at first: with Unrivalled lying at anchor the other vessel appeared to be much further out. It was an illusion; Paradox was standing towards the larger of the two inlets, tacking well enough, although the offshore wind had her almost aback at one point. She had all her boats in the water, towing or alongside. Galbraith hit his lip. That would do nothing to help steerage-way. The dawn haze was clearing slowly. Ile moved the glass again and saw another fan of sails, the hull still hidden in mist or smoke, as if she had fired a silent broadside. That would be Seven Sisters. He looked at Paradox again. Clearer and sharper now. The broadpendant seemed far too large for so sleek a vessel, he thought. She had shortened sail, and he could see one of the boats, then another, being hauled alongside, the occasional glint of weapons as men clambered down into them.
Adam Bolitho said, 'Too soon! The oarsmen will he exhausted before they can work into position!'
Galbraith handed the big signals telescope to Cousens. 'Watch the commodore.' Ile looked forward. All work had ceased, and most of the hands were either standing on the guns or clinging to the shrouds, spectators, as if they had no part in it.
'Deck there!' This time it was Sullivan. 'Sail in sight, sir!'
Adam raised his glass again even as he heard Cristie exclaim, 'There's another of 'em, fine across the inlet!'
Paradox was on the move again, her sails changing shape as she shifted to the opposite tack.
Cousens called huskily,'From Commodore, sir! Enemy in sight.'
Adam flinched as a gun banged out over the cruising wavelets. Small and dull, without menace.
Paradox would close with the other vessels and fire a few shots into them. There would be no point in their trying to resist, especially with Seven Sisters already making more sail.
Adam walked quickly to the rail, barely seeing the marines standing by or against the packed hammock nettings. He felt helpless, anchored and unable to offer support.
He turned abruptly and asked, 'How long shall we hold this lie to the cable?'
Cristie answered instantly, ''Bout an hour, sir. Then we shall begin to swing.'
Adam stared at the green mass of land. Between Unrivalled and the first sandbars there was a channel. It was badly charted, but doubtless well enough known to the slavers and those who hunted for them. Hastilow must know this coastline better than most. Creeks and beaches, inlets and places where even the biggest craft could lie undisturbed.
Paradox fired again. Aiming for the sails. If the vessel was packed with slaves it would be sheer murder to fire into the hull.
'Deck there! Third sail leavin' the inlet, sir!'
Adam heard Galbraith say, 'They've left it too late! They can never come about in time!'
Adam turned as Cristie said, 'I may be speaking out of turn, sir, but…'
Afterwards, Adam recalled the sailing master's surprise when he had gripped his arm as if to shake him.
'Tell me, man! What's wrong?'
'Paradox is on the wrong bearing.' Then, more firmly, 'No, I'm damn sure of it.'
Adam said, 'Mr Galbraith, heat to quarters, if you please, and have the starboard battery loaded.' He held up
