The King

light company on your extreme left. Supported by one two-pounder. The other three two-pounders placed between line companies across our general front. Be ready, Captain Addams, to shift your pieces to repel any threat. Our front shall be between three and four hundred yards, so we shall have to form in two ranks only. With the rising sun at our backs, we should have good shooting and they should not. Caught between our ships and our attack, we ought to create a little confusion for them, and their only line of retreat will be to their boats on the beach, or across our front through the paddies, then south into the jungle. Major Gaunt, you shall decimate them should they retreat south. Captain Chiswick, you shall threaten their boats. Once in position, prepare torches so you may set fire to as many as you are able as you advance down the beach. Do not allow the bastards to put their bow guns into play. There is a low palisade about this village. I shall not wish us to actually enter the damned place and get cut up in their little lanes. Better we incline right and seize the beach, though it may be necessary to at least gain control of the eastern palisade. Questions, gentlemen?'

'Once we incline towards the beach, sir, do we let the enemy flee into the paddies and jungle?' Major Gaunt asked.

'If they seem to be in great disorder, sir. You may find it necessary to torch the southern palisade and houses, then form your half-battalion as a screen to prevent any counterattack from that quarter, facing south, once we've taken the beach and the east wall,' Sir Hugo stated after a moment's thought. 'The fire should guard your back well enough, and discourage anyone left in the village.'

There were no more questions. Sir Hugo dug his watch from his breeches pocket and held it up close to his nose, swiveling in the faint moonlight to try and read it. 'It lacks a quarter-hour to three, gentlemen. And the Navy tells me true dawn is at a quarter to six. False dawn, a quarter past five. I wish to be in position at least half an hour before that. Then let the Navy have first honors. Return to your companies. Good luck, God speed and let us be on our way.'

Chapter 12

Time to do what they pay us for, Cony,' Lewrie said decisively, shoving away what was left of his cold breakfast. 'Damme all Banyan Days.'

Gruel, cheese, hard biscuit and small beer, with a banana for something sweet in place of a duff. Several days of the week were meatless, according to the strictures of the Victualling Board, and Lewrie felt no desire to end up paying for anything he wasn't given permission to issue, even in foreign climes.

'Seems t' me, sir,' Cony said with a rueful expression, 'if'n they warnts us t' fight strong an' all, they'd make allowance fer a battle, they would.'

'Wish to God somebody would,' Alan grinned in return. He put on his coat, squared away his sword and donned his hat.

He stepped out onto the quarterdeck, just forward of the sweep of the tiller, and leaned one hip against the after capstan-head. The crew had stowed their hammocks away already, and stood swaying to the motion of their little ship. Evidently, they were not very hungry this morning, either. The cook was shoveling coals into the sea off the lee side, and his assistant was hauling up a bucket of seawater to put out his galley fire.

'Good morning, captain,' Hogue said from his station to leeward.

'Good morning to you, Mister Hogue. Any signal from Telesto?'

'Nothing yet, sir.'

But even as Hogue spoke, there was a tiny, shielded light that appeared on Teiesto's taffrail far ahead of them, a tiny spark from a single lantern to show them where she was, followed by another from Lady Charlotte.

'Mister Hogue, prepare to put the ship about onto the wind,' Lewrie ordered. 'We shall tack in succession.'

'Aye, sir!'

'Second light, sir,' Murray pointed out. 'Her helm's down.' And the two weak glims swung slowly into line as one, then ghosted to the right across their bows. A minute later, Lady Charlotte did the same. And when Lady Charlotte's faint glimmer was directly on their starboard beam, so, too, did Culverin.

'Shake out our night reefs, Mister Murray. Mister Hogue, beat to Quarters,' Lewrie ordained. 'And hoist the colors now.' Furniture, chests, provisions, livestock from the manger and any flimsy temporary partitions were struck below out of harm's way. The decks were sanded for better traction for the gunners and brace-tenders. Fire-buckets were filled, and slow-matches lit in case the flint-lock strikers of their carronades did not function properly in the damp of a tropic dawn. The guns were run in on their wooden recoil slides, the tampions were removed from the muzzles and stowed out of the way. Serge powder cartridges were rammed firm, then heavy twenty-four-pounder solid shot were trundled down the barrels and seated with a thump from the rammers. Charges were pierced with metal prickers to give vent for the ignitions to come, and the secure lashings on the gunports were uncleated. They would wait to prime their guns until they had the enemy in sight, since the humidity might spoil the powder in the pans. With the pans empty, they check-snapped the flints to see if they had a good edge that would spark well against their checker-scored metal frizzens, then covered them with leather flaps to keep them dry.

'Stand easy,' Hogue instructed from the gun deck. 'Mister Owen, I'll see to those swivel-guns now.'

The night was still dark as a boot, with the island and its harbor a faintly heavier darkness ahead of their starboard bows. A thin line of charcoal grey heralded the false dawn to come, against which the masts and sails of the leading ships could almost be seen now and again. For a lookout gazing to seaward, they would still be invisible, their wakes lost in the general roil of offshore waves, to leeward of the rising sun.

' 'Ope this last'un'll do fer all, sir,' Cony muttered, fetching Lewrie one last bracing mug of coffee.

'This coffee, or this battle, Cony?' Lewrie asked, amused in spite of the circumstances.

'Be nice t' see England agin, sir.' Cony smiled. 'Be damned nice to see tomorrow's sunrise.'

'The battery to our rear is silenced, Sir Hugo,' Chiswick told his commanding officer, breathless from a quick jog-trot. ' Mindanao pirates, mostly, with four Frenchmen to supervise. We lost four men.'

'Oh, I am most dreadfully sorry, sir,' Sir Hugo replied, but it was a perfunctory sort of sorrow. He dragged out his pocket watch and read the face with more ease. 'False dawn. Quarter past five.'

'Yes, sir.'

'No enemy to our rear? No scouts or sentinels along our front, to your determination, Captain?' Sir Hugo went on.

'No, sir.'

'Very well. Rejoin your company and stand by.'

Sir Hugo paced out in front of his command. He could barely see most of it. The grenadier company lined up two deep, spaced out wider than he'd like, instead of shoulder to shoulder, but they would have to suit. The bandsmen with their drums and fifes, and Ayscough's borrowed pipers, tricked out in cast-off red tunics. The six- pounder field guns, and behind them, the coehorn mortar crews. The color party nearest him. The other companies were too far away, too deep in the fringes of jungle.

He could see them in his mind's eye, though. Could imagine the formed ranks standing easy with their muskets, with their officers to the front. One word of command and they would be erect as ramrods, ready for what this bloody morning would bring.

It was hot and close, the air like a steaming barber's towel, and just as moist. There was no hint of rain, and the ground across which they would advance was dry and firm. It was simply the humidity of these climes making a slight mist that tried to hide the village from them. And hid his regiment from the foe.

Willoughby paced farther out in advance, with his subadar-major, the senior native officer, and his bearer, Chandra, by his side, until he was about twenty paces forward of his color party.

He consulted his watch again.

'Sah!' his bearer gasped with a quick, indrawn breath.

Willoughby looked up to see a woman and a boy child, not fifty paces off. They had arisen early, perhaps to fetch water or firewood for the morning cooking. They froze in place, almost froze in mid-step, as they might at the