as the majestic Lion Mountain.
Even the excitement of their return had dimmed. He shaded his eyes and looked across at the two anchored prizes, Intrepido and Albatroz, abandoned now but for a few red uniforms, under guard to await developments. Galbraith recalled the wild cheering from some of the ships when they had come to their anchorage, the slaves being ferried ashore, laughing, sobbing, and confused. They were free. But how they would manage to return to their villages or settlements was difficult to understand, and, far worse, some would doubtless be trapped and returned to one of the barracoons along that same hostile coast to await the next ship, and another buyer.
Unrivalled had been at anchor for two days, and only the purser's crew and two working parties had been allowed ashore. To await orders. He heard the bell chime from forward. And that was today.
The brig Kittiwake had taken on stores and had departed almost immediately. Commodore Turnbull was with the Crown Agent. Galbraith had sensed the disappointment and resentment amongst Unrivalled's people. Two slavers as prizes. There would have been none but for their action, anchored or not.
A courier brig had arrived, but no mail had been delivered to them. Galbraith was not expecting any, but hope was always contagious.
Adam Bolitho's friend, and his uncle's last flag captain, James Tyacke, was still at sea. In case the missing slaver attempted to return to the inlet, which seemed unlikely, or to continue with another endless patrol.
I hate this place. He wiped his face and tried to dismiss it. Better here than on half-pay in some place full of others rejected by the one life they knew. Needed. Slavery was evil. Weighed against that, their presence here was necessary, if colonies were to survive against peacetime conditions. It still did not make sense…
He had heard some of the older hands talking about it. A few had boasted of their liaisons with women like those they had freed only days ago. Campbell, it would he him, insisted there was nothing to touch them. Nice bit o' black velvet to get you goin'
Midshipman Cousens called, 'Boat shoving off from the jetty now, sir!'
Always alert, perhaps thinking of his hoped-for promotion.
'My respects to the captain. Would you tell him?' He beckoned to a boatswain's mate. 'Pipe for the guard, Creagh, then man the side.'
He relented; his voice had been sharper than he intended. It was affecting him more than he had believed. Maybe it was only the heat. And all for just another official visit, this time the Crown Agent.
He thought of the captain's expression, the last time they had been here. RearAdmiral Herrick had been his uncle's oldest friend; he had heard that several times, but when Bolitho had returned on hoard it was as if they had met as strangers.
The Royal Marines were already falling in by the entry port, Sergeant Everett checking the dressing, watching for any flaw in the pattern. There was none. Guard of honour or shooting down an enemy, it seemed to be one and the same to this elite corps. The seamen often joked about it; it made no difference. Captain Luxmore was also present, his face almost matching his tunic. Galbraith turned to watch for the boat. An ornate affair, almost a barge, it belonged to the governor, and was manned by seamen 'borrowed' for His Excellency's convenience.
He refrained from using a telescope; the rearadmiral would know. He half-smiled. They always seemed to know such things.
He heard the captain's step on the companion ladder and said, 'Clear all idlers off the upper deck, Mr Cousens.' He turned and touched his hat. 'Right on time, sir.'
Adam glanced along the main deck. Galbraith had done well. Everything was in its place. Ready for sea.
Herrick would miss nothing. He had once been Richard Bolitho's first lieutenant, a lifetime ago. He wondered if he still remembered.
Galbraith said, 'I spoke with the purser, sir. There is ginger beer in the cabin.' He did not think it was the time to mention Tregillis's list of complaints after he had returned with his crew from the stores.
'Drinking water, they call it? I'd not wash a horse in it! And the salt beef! Three years in the cask-that fellow Sullivan could carve a fleet of models from it. It's like iron!'
But a purser was rarely content.
Adam watched the approaching boat. Another senior officer. Think of it like that. He had noticed that Cousens's signals party had already bent on a flag for Herrick, and were ready to run it to the mizzen truck as he came aboard. Herrick would decline it; he was coming as an agent of the government, not in the capacity his rank implied. A matter of courtesy then.
He saw the bowman toss his oar and replace it with his boathook. The barge was still turning, and the man almost lost his balance.
Jago was looking on. It was not hard to guess what he was thinking.
He could see Herrick's cocked hat now; he was wearing his best uniform. Then he thought of Unrivalled, how she must appear to Herrick, not just another frigate, surely, but as a singular ship. Perhaps I misjudged him. Thought of my own pain rather than his.
The boatswain's mates moistened their silver calls on their tongues, and Captain Luxmore brought his sword to the carry.
'Pipe!' As the calls shrilled in salute and the marine guard brought their muskets to the present, Herrick's head and shoulders appeared in the entry port.
Adam removed his hat and stepped forward. He heard a gasp of alarm and saw Herrick lose his grip on the guide-rope. He knew Herrick never made any allowance for having only one hand, but this time he had misjudged it. The guard of honour, the hard glare from the harbour, an error of timing. Or was it emotion? Could it be that?
Jago was there in a second, before even the boatswain's mates could move, seizing Herrick by the wrist, yet still managing to remove his own hat, while even the disciplined marines gaped with astonishment.
Herrick stepped on to the planking and doffed his hat. Then he looked for Jago and said, 'That was nearly a very short visit. I thank you for your alertness.' Then he glanced up. In the sudden confusion Cousens's assistant, Midshipman Fielding, had misunderstood his instructions. Lazily, defiantly even, the rearadmiral's flag had broken from the mizzen.
Ilerrick nodded, as if he had heard someone speak, and looked directly at Unrivalled's captain.
The full uniform gave him a stature which had been lacking at their last meeting. There were lines about his mouth but his eyes were as blue and clear as that young lieutenant of years past.
Adam said, 'You are welcome here, sir.'
He saw Herrick wince as he shook his hand. The empty sleeve was a constant reminder.
They walked aft beneath the poop, and Adam was aware for the first time that the same eager and anxious aide had come aboard with him. The marine sentry, snapped to attention, the screen doors were open wide, and young Napier was waiting, wearing his best jacket. And shoes.
Herrick hesitated and looked closely at the Royal Marine. 'I know you! Lucas, isn't it?'
The man's eyes barely blinked beneath his leather hat.
'Yessir. Th' old Benbow, sir!'
'You were younger then. We all were.'
It would be all over the marines' messdeck, the barracks as they called it, within the hour. No, Herrick had not forgotten.
They walked into the great cabin, Adam sensing that Herrick was moving almost uncertainly, as if unprepared for this moment. So many ships, so many situations; he must have seen it all on his way up the ladder of promotion from his humble beginnings.
Napier said anxiously, 'This is the best chair, sir.'
The blue, clear eyes turned to him. 'And you look after the captain, do you?'
Napier considered it, frowning slightly. 'We take care of each other, sir, that is…'
'Well said.'
But he went to the wide bench seat beneath the stern windows, and gazed out at the anchored shipping and tangle of masts and rigging. His eyes were far away; he was somewhere else.
Adam said, 'We have some ginger beer, sir. From the army mess.
Herrick grimaced. 'It would be.' He looked past him towards the sleeping cabin. 'I would relish a drink, however.'
Adam nodded to Napier, and saw him frown once more as his shoes clicked noisily across the deck.
Herrick said, 'I have read your reports with great care. The seizure of the two slavers was commendable, and a
