more days should suffice.'
For a moment longer Adam thought he had gone too far, that the meeting was over before it was begun.
Commodore Carrick had turned toward the screen, his voice expressionless.
'I shall want you to patrol that same coastline again. To be ready to act against interference or intimidation, as you see fit.
You have proved your skill better than most. I have sent word to CapitaineЦ 'He snapped his fingers. 'Marchand. I think he owes us something, eh?'
Adam thought he saw the flag lieutenant raise his brows.
And Troubridge was already on his way to that same hostile rendezvous.
Carrick stared at the papers on his table.
'When diplomacy fails, the cannon usually speaks. That must not happen. You will receive your orders with all despatch. 'He thrust out his hand. 'Be ready.'
They walked from the great cabin, this time together.
There was no sign of the brig Merlin; the north-easterly breeze was steady, and holding. Troubridge was on his way.
He had been warned: the rest was up to him.
The iron-hard eyes were watching him, perhaps reading his thoughts.
'The next time we meet, Bolitho…' He did not finish it, saying instead, 'I envy him. So be it! 'Then he turned and walked away.
Adam made his own way to the entry port, where Jago and his crew would be waiting. Once back aboard Onward he would go around the messes, informally, like those other times, asking Vincent to accompany him.
He thought of his uncle, how it must have been.
The people come first.
14. Storm Warning
The carrier's cart wheeled sharply into the inn yard and jerked to a halt.
John Allday climbed down on to the cobbles and took a few moments to recover. It was no distance from the village of Fallowfield and back here to the Old Hyperion Inn. He usually walked it. But maybe not for a while.
Dick the carter waved to him. 'Got some fruit, JohnЦ tes all today. I'll trot un round to the kitchen. 'He was off without waiting for a response. He was no stranger here.
Allday leaned back carefully, allowing his muscles to unclench. The lane was in poor shape: too many heavy wagons using it, carrying ballast for the new road. It brought more business to the inn; Unis deserved that; but it would be better when things became quieter again.
He looked up at the sign, depicting the old Hyperion as he had known her. He was proud of it, and he smiled. Keep sailing, my girl! He felt the heat of the sun across his shoulders, but there was thunder about, a storm blowing in from Falmouth Bay. Rain would stop the farmers complaining. He straightened his back.
The stiffness was almost gone.
He looked across the yard toward the open stables. Two or three horses: so there were still some customers, wearing out their welcome. He checked himself. Where would we be without them? Where would I be? A light carriage too, shafts empty, a tarpaulin draped over the box. Some one else thought there was rain on the way.
Jack, their latest recruit since Tom Ozzard had shoved off one night, was rolling an empty cask carefully toward the cellar door. A good lad… He saw Allday and gave him a furtive 'thumbs down'. He had learned a lot since coming to work for them.
So Harry Flinders was here. Allday sighed. He would have to make an effort, for Unis's sake.
She came to meet him, wiping her hands on her apron as he stooped to hug her. So small, but so strong in his arms, as any customer would be quick to discover if he tried to take liberties with her.
She was about to tell him, but he said, 'I knows, my love,' and crossed his heart with a grin. 'I'll stand upwind of him!'
He moved to the door, careful to disguise any fatigue or discomfort from her.
She said, 'That fellow Grimes is here again, 'and waited for some comment. 'The builder working on the Roxby house.'
Allday glanced around the kitchen, taking quiet pleasure in the gleam of copper and the ranks of shining pewter. His unfinished model of Frobisher stood on one of the shelves, and he was strangely reluctant to complete it. Maybe a slight alteration to the foremast rigging was needed, or the rake of the bowsprit? Something. It had to be right.
Unis knew what he was thinking, although she said nothing.
John had intended it as a gift for Captain Adam, but the model of Frobisher might never be finished. To him it was not just any ship. It was their ship. John's last, and Sir Richard's, where he had fallen to an enemy marksman. But she knew the truth. Like the sea, in his heart he had never left it.
She considered Harry Flinders. John couldn't stand him, nor could most folk, unless they wanted a favour, but if you turned every one away you disliked for some reason, the Old Hyperion would soon be bankrupt.
She said gently, 'Show your face, John. I've got a pie to finish.'
He pushed open the door of the Long Room and summed up the few remaining customers. The tradesmen were at the market, or on their way to Falmouth, but there were still a couple of smartly dressed lawyers he recognized from previous visits. Kept to themselves; probably glad to get away from Truro. Some poor devil would be hanged for their efforts.
'Here he isЦ ask him about it!'
Unis's brother, also named John, gave him a wink as he clumped toward the parlour, clearly making his escape. Only when he walked was it apparent that he had lost a leg, long since, fighting in the line with the 31st Foot. But it had taken years, and all the care and encouragement of his sister, before he had talked about it.
Flinders was sitting in the corner, in what he grandly called 'my usual chair', smiling like a snake as always. Gilt buttons on his waistcoat, almost military. How he loved to be admired, or so he thought.
Allday steeled himself. He had nothing against Henry Grimes, the builder. A fairly regular visitor to the inn since the road had begun, tearing down dwellings which had stood in its path and replacing them when the offers of compensation were made. Always busy, and giving employment to men thrown on the beach when the fighting had ended. He was also working at the Roxby house. No wonder Flinders was being so cosy.
He said, 'How can I help?'
Flinders leaned back, one arm hanging down casually.
'I was telling my friend here that you were with the fleet for a good many years. You'd be the one to ask. 'He gestured to Grimes, but his eyes remained on Allday. 'The Great Mutiny, twenty or so years ago, wasn't it. Had the whole country squitterin 'with fear that Boney would invade, with no ships to stop him! You must have been in the thick of it?'
Allday was surprised, but said cautiously, 'I seen some of it, but I was at sea most of the time in the old Euryalus. In '97, it was. A bad time. 'He was silent for a moment, reflecting. 'But a lot of us seen it comin'.'
Grimes said, 'I was building ships in them days. Not tearing ‘em apart like today, 'cause the country's running out of seasoned timber! 'He chuckled. 'But I do remember the mutiny. Some of us were doing repairs aboard one of the ships.
An emergency, we were told. 'He touched his half-empty wine glass, his needle-sharp eyes suddenly distant, focusing on the past. 'A seventy-four, she was. Nothing unusual. 'He slapped the table, so that the two lawyers looked across at them. 'And then it suddenly flared up all around us. We couldn't believe it was happening. Officers being driven from their posts, or treated like they was invisible. The captainЦ I can see him nowЦ yelling orders, cursing like he was goin 'to explode.'
He dropped his voice, as if still shocked by the memory. 'Only the marines stood fast, a line of ‘em across the deck, when the captain ordered ‘em to fire on the mutineers. The officer in charge was about to give the command to shoot. 'He hesitated.
'I can remember… it was so quiet… the men just standing and staring into the muskets. Then, one shot, an'
