The leadsman, unperturbed, yelled, 'By th' mark ten! '
Adam saw the sailing master peer at his notes. Sixty feet under the keel.
Bethune said, 'We must anchor if it shelves.' He turned, caught off guard as two more shots echoed across the water. 'We'll engage them after they try to break out! '
'An' deep sixteen! '
Eraser glanced at his master's mate and blew out his cheeks.
Adam pictured Athena's shadow as she moved slowly into deeper water. He stared along the starboard gangway and saw Lieutenant Barclay beside one of the crouching carronades. Doubtless listening to every sounding, ready to drop anchor at a few seconds' notice.
Another face fixed in his mind, when he had thought he would never become a part of this ship.
There was a chorus of groans and shouts. Audacity had been hit again; her whole foremast lay over the side. And there was smoke.
Adam climbed into the shrouds and tried to shade his eyes from the coppery glare. He saw the barque which had up-anchored, turning bat-like past some other moored craft. But he kept his eyes on the frigate, knowing she had been hit by heated shot, how badly he could not determine.
He heard Bethune call, 'Where's Tolan? I want him here! '
The leadsman's voice was unimpressed. 'No bottom, sir! '
'So there you are, man! ' Bethune's face shone with sweat as he began to unfasten his heavy coat. He stared at Tolan's telescope. 'What?'
Tolan looked past him at the nearest strip of land. There were tiny figures running along a beach, like spectators at some terrible contest.
He answered flatly, 'It's the schooner, Sir Graham. Jacob's boat.'
His eyes were cold as he watched the words strike home.
'Are you certain? It could be any vessel in this damned place! '
'I took your message, Sir Graham.' He raised the telescope again. Poised and steady, as if he had done it all his life.
Jago stood near him, his face grim. 'The errand you was on?'
Tolan nodded. 'I'll lay odds she's aboard that schooner right now! '
No name was mentioned. Adam stared at the admiral. There was no need. Not the ordered routine of English Harbour, or London. It was here, a place where few of his men had ever visited. Where a ship was dying, and her people with her.
Somebody had brought the crippled Audacity under command. Her remaining canvas was coming about, filling to a wind across her quarter. But there was smoke, pale like steam as Audacity's men fought to douse the smouldering fire from one of the shots.
Bethune exclaimed, 'Make a signal to Hostile…' His voice all but trailed away. 'It's no use, is it?'
Adam watched the smoke. Bethune had ordered Hostile to stand away to the north, ready to run down on any slaver who managed to escape Pointer's eventual attack on the moorings.
Catherine might or might not be aboard the little schooner. Jacob was apparently well known for his dealings with the navy and felons alike. But somehow he knew she was here at San Jose, because of Bethune, and the man who had always protected her. Sillitoe.
Adam forced himself to use the big signals telescope again, to take time with each thought and reaction, and all the while his body seemed to shake with anger, and with hatred.
Audacity had been hit yet again, and was drifting with the wind, smoke rising above her main course like a cloud.
He said, 'I intend to engage the shore battery, Sir Graham. Commander Pointer will soon be in position.' He did not look at Jago as he added, 'Remember Algiers. Boat action! '
He heard the snap of commands, Jago calling out names abruptly. Like that last time when Lord Exmouth's fleet had broken all the rules by choosing to fight against sited and entrenched guns. When every ship was a target.
He waited, knowing his last reserve would snap if Bethune overruled him. But Bethune was standing by the compass box, for another moment unaware of the helmsmen, and the gun crews on either side of the quarterdeck. Boatswain's mates, midshipmen, and the remaining section of Royal Marines. He could have been completely alone.
When he spoke, his voice was barely audible. 'Signal Hostile to close on Flag.' Then he did look directly at his flag captain. 'Lay a course to weather the headland. We will engage.'
Adam heard the order run through the waiting seamen and marines with the speed of light. He saw Bethune peel off his coat and toss it to his servant. Most of all, he remembered Bethune's eyes, his expression. Like a stranger. An enemy.
The heavy coat lay on the deck where it had fallen. Tolan had hurried after Jago, while men snatched up weapons from the open arms chests.
Jago asked harshly, 'You a volunteer?'
Tolan nodded, and said something he did not hear. But Jago looked past him and up to the rail by the poop ladder.
Adam saw him and lifted one hand in salute. Something only they had come to understand.
There was a dull explosion, the searing hiss of spark and flame in the bay. A ship had blown up. Twenty-eight years old, like her captain. Finished.
We will engage.
The leadsman called out from the chains, 'No bottom, sir! '
Adam loosened his collar and touched the silk stocking she had given him, which he had wound around his neck.
Stirling shouted, 'Ready, sir! ' His eyes were on Athena's captain, not the vice-admiral.
Adam tightened his grip and heard her voice. Walk with me. The rest had been a dream.
'Steady she goes, sir! West sou' west! ' The senior helmsman peered up as the canvas cracked when the wind fell away, and the land moved out to shield them.
Adam had climbed on to the nettings again, his eye smarting in the reflected glare. The water in the bay was like burnished metal, as if the seabed were on fire. There was smoke, too, from Audacity's burning hull or from the hidden guns ashore. He was conscious only of the ship's slow, unwavering advance; the people hurrying about her decks or working high aloft on the yards and rigging seemed merely incidental, as if Athena was her own mistress.
There was more activity amongst the moored ships. Patches of sail had appeared, but many of the slavers' seamen were probably ashore. Unless they had been expecting some form of action…
He tore his eyes away to watch Jago and two boats' crews running aft to haul their craft alongside.
He jumped down to the deck again and called, 'Bring her up a point! '
He strode to the rail and stared along the full length of the ship. Every gun loaded, its crew grouped around it, some peering at the nearest land as it glided past above the starboard gangway. All the tackles were fully manned, with extra hands from the opposite side for the first, perhaps vital show of force. If Pointer was unable to get his men into position the slavers might still escape, and their attack would be futile. Far worse, it might cost the life of every man who fell into the enemy's hands.
Enemy… They were the enemy. Flags no longer counted for anything.
Then he saw Audacity, or what remained of her. Almost on her beam, and surrounded by burned flotsam and a spreading carpet of ash. One boat was nearby, the oars moving very slowly as it pulled past and among the wreckage. A few figures were clinging to broken spars and a half-burned hatch cover, others drifted beyond all aid or hope. The end of a ship. Something against which he should be hardened.
He was not.
There was silence on Athena's upper deck. Men stood by their guns and at the braces and halliards, and gazed at the burned-out ship. One of their own. There were no words for it.
'Boats, starboard bow, sir! '
Adam wiped his face and stared beyond the bow. The small schooner had either hove to, or her steering had gone. She was beam on, some half mile beyond Audacity's remains. The boats were almost hidden by Athena's
