immediate view of the anchorage and the spread of land beyond. The quarter windows were partly open, and there was the suggestion of a breeze.
Carrick turned toward him unhurriedly, casually even, his hands folding a document of some kind, which he held out toward the flag lieutenant.
'You will see that I've struck a couple of names off the list.
I can't abide either of them. You would know that if you had been with me…' He broke off and smiled directly at Adam, almost as if this were an unexpected meeting.
A lean, bony face with a high forehead, hair cut quite short in the style affected by younger members of the wardroom. He waited for Adam to reach him. 'You are welcome here, Captain Bolitho. I saw you anchor. Does my heart good to see a fine new frigate joining the squadron. 'He did not offer his hand, but used it to pass the document to his aide. 'Stronger than anything faster, faster than anything stronger, isn't that what they say?'
A fellow Cornishman, the lieutenant had said. There was not much of it in his speech. More of a drawl, clipped only when he wanted to emphasize a point. But the face was Cornish, and Adam was reminded of his aunt's description of some one. Looks like a real pirate. Between forty and fifty, although he might have been any age.
He was saying, 'I shall read your report as soon as I'm able, Bolitho, but do you have any particular news for me?'
Adam realized that a chair had been placed beside him, and the lieutenant had disappeared.
Carrick sat by a table and rested his elbow on the edge.
'Hear quite a lot about you, Bolitho. Not one to waste words, I'm told. 'The quick smile again. 'I like that.'
'One of my ship's company died when we left Plymouth.
His body was found only two days ago. 'Carrick had shifted very slightly, his chin resting in his hand. His eyes were very steady. Still.
'Two days? The corpse had been well hidden, I take it? You'd have nosed him otherwise.'
'He had been murdered, sir. In my reportЦ'
'I'll read it later. A shore burial, then. That'll bring a few complaints. 'He had turned as if to listen to something, and Adam saw his eyes in the filtered sunlight, more grey than blue, and hard as iron. They rested on him once more. 'I may require more details. 'He paused as the servant placed a tray with glasses and a decanter on the table. Then he said, 'Rear Admiral Aylmer was required to haul down his flag, the sudden return of an 'old illness'. We're still not certain. 'He seemed to dismiss it. 'But you were Sir Graham Bethune's flag captain. You know all about the whims and fancies of senior officers, I have no doubt. We must be patient. 'He gestured brusquely to the servant. 'Not for meЦ I am seeing the governor shortly. But Captain Bolitho will require refreshment after his hectic morning.'
Adam said, 'I have to see the governor myself, sir.'
'I know. But this is far from being a duty. A social matter.'
The wine seemed sour, but he knew it was tainted by his own anger. Resentment.
Carrick spoke again.
'So many changes, Bolitho. New minds, fresh diplomacy.
Too many seem able to forget the wars and the sacrifices.
Some of us find it a hard lesson to learn. 'He tapped the table, and the smile was back. 'Onward is now part of the Strait Squadron. I know your reputation. Lord Exmouth spoke well of you after the Algiers campaign. Peace or war, loyalty means everything to me. 'He regarded him steadily. 'Your uncle, Sir Richard, had he been spared, would certainly recognize today's enemy. 'He stood abruptly and gestured toward the side. 'Treachery. It should be up there on the Rock, carved in stone where every one in his right mind can read it! 'He glared as some one tapped hesitantly on the door. 'Before it's written in blood!'
Adam was on his feet and saw Carrick's eyes drop to the sword at his side.
'You will receive more detailed orders tomorrow, after you have seen the governor. 'Then he called, 'Come in, man, if you must!'
He turned back with a shrug and a hint of the smile, and said, 'So… let's be about it, shall we?'
8. One Company
Lieutenant Mark Vincent closed the cabin door behind him and inhaled deeply. A few steps from the wardroom on Onward's lower deck, but it would turn any volunteer's head away from the sea for good. It was allocated to the captain's clerk, and in size was probably no smaller than his own, but whenever he came here he felt stifled, trapped. There was hardly a space left uncovered or unstacked with ledgers and log books, and no natural lighting but a glimmer through a small vent. How the clerk managed to prepare and study his written work, as well as sleep and enjoy any escape from shipboard life was impossible to imagine.
As first lieutenant it was sometimes necessary for Vincent to delve into these logs and muster books, or arrange an official report which, when beautifully penned in the clerk's stylish hand, was destined for some similar claustrophobic cave in flagship or headquarters ashore.
Henry Prior, the clerk, was sitting behind his table, left hand on an opened ledger, the right shading a candle, which he had just fitted to one of his several lamps. A small, neat person, bright-eyed and usually wearing a half smile, discreet to the point of secrecy, he was certainly no gossip. Vincent had heard the captain's coxswain remark of him, 'Like trying to open an oyster with a feather!'
And as far as he knew, Prior was the only man aboard who had served with the unfortunate Captain Richmond, who had arranged for his appointment while Onward had still been in the builder's yard.
Vincent turned his head to listen to the twittering call from boatswain's mate somewhere in the upper hull. My ship. The captain was still ashore with the commodore, or perhaps at the governor's residence again. Could I have taken command? Prior said, 'These are ready for signature, sir, 'moving some papers across the table.
'So that can carry the blame if they're not accurate.'
'I have checked them myself. 'Fussily, Prior shook the paper cuffs he wore to protect his spotless shirt, as if to dissociate himself from the contents. 'I believe the captain is returning aboard today, sir?'
Vincent tried to push all the other demands and duties to the back of his mind. Perhaps orders had arrived and Onward might be free to sail again. The uncertainty or indifference from on high was oppressing every one. And the captain? Sometimes he felt that a barrier was still there. As if Bolitho were waiting, watching for something overlooked.
'I had better do my rounds. 'He stretched, and felt his knuckles touch the deckhead. 'Send word if…' He realized that Prior was getting to his feet, glancing possessively at the desk as if to mark everything in its place.
He said, 'I'll leave you, sir. Mr. Monteith, you will recall.'
Vincent sighed.
'I'm never allowed to forget him!'
The door closed, leaving him entombed with the logs, but for a few seconds he heard the sounds of thudding feet and a voice calling somebody's name. A living ship. He repressed another sigh. A first lieutenant's lot…
Monteith came into the cabin, hat wedged beneath his arm, his eyes not leaving Vincent's face as he stood stiffly opposite the table.
Vincent said, 'This could have waited. Later, perhaps, in the wardroom.'
He saw Monteith's chin lifting slightly, his free hand pressed against his side. Scarcely moving even as the deck swayed uneasily beneath them.
Monteith said, 'I made an official complaint, sir. And as my first lieutenant, I expected you to support it.'
Vincent felt cool air coming from somewhere. 'Close the door, will you? 'So calm, but he could feel the anger growing.
Coming up the back stairs, as he had heard the gunner say on several occasions. He sensed the hostility and the confidence, too. Always ready to seize upon the smallest breach of discipline or effiency. He recalled the captain's comments after examining Onward1 s punishment book.
