Command

from a hundred watches scanning into nothing soon picked it up: a speck of paleness occasionally flashing brilliant white as the sun caught it.'Sailhoooo!' he roared to the deck below. 'Fine on th' weather bow.' His hail to the deck caused the lookout beside him to jerk with surprise. Kydd then saw, in place of the sharp angularity of the usual Mediterranean lateener, the more blocky indication of square sail. 'Square sail, an' studding athwart!'

This was not a trading felucca or any other of the myriad small craft native to this part of the great inland sea: it was of significant size and European built; perhaps a transport for Napoleon's lost army—or a hunting frigate . . .

Realising he had an urgent need to be back on deck, he reached out for a topmast backstay and swung into space. In seconds he had slid hand-over-hand down the backstay, arriving with a light jump on his own quarterdeck.

He was conscious of eyes on him: this was now the classic dilemma faced by every smaller ship, to sail towards a potential prize or retreat from what could be a more powerful enemy. To play safe would be to put up the helm and slink away, but that would be to throw away any chance of securing their first prize. Yet if he pressed on to investigate and it turned out to be one of the French admiral Ganteaume's fast frigates then Teazer stood little chance.

'Course t' intercept, Mr Bonnici,' he snapped. He had a bounden duty to stop and investigate every sail. If things turned out against them, it couldn't be helped.

'Clear for action, sir?' Awkwardly Dacres held out Kydd's cocked hat and coat, which Kydd accepted but did not put on, mindful of his ruined cotton stockings and tar streaks on his hands.

From the main deck, the top-hamper of the chase was not yet visible. 'No. We'll have time enough later. Report when he's topsails clear, I'll be below.'

It seemed an age before the report finally arrived, but Kydd had already guessed the chase must be a smaller vessel or a merchantman that had decided to make a run for it—and they were slowly overhauling it. There was always the chance that it was leading him on into a trap, and with a new ship and untried crew the consequences could be serious—but it was unlikely.

When he went up on deck he deliberately left his sword on its hook below as a sign that he did not expect to fight. 'Chase bears ahead nine miles, sir,' Dacres said importantly. Hull-up, the ship was clawing to windward in a losing battle with the brisk breeze; Teazer had bowlines in their bridles drawing out the leading edge of her courses and topsails and was slashing along in exhilarating fashion. The end could not be in doubt.

At long cannon-shot Kydd ordered a gun to windward. It took another before the vessel set topsails a-fly in surrender and came up into the wind. With the greatest satisfaction he set Teazer hove to a little to windward.

The ship resembled the Marseille traders that Kydd knew so well from blockade duty off Toulon, and if this was so it was almost certainly a French supply transport. A flutter of white and gold jerked up her mizzen halliards.

'Naples,' muttered Purchet. 'Won't save 'em,' he added happily. Kydd was not so sure: Naples had been occupied by the French, as had Sicily, but as far as he knew the Bourbon Kingdom of the Two Sicilies still existed in exile and was an ally. As well, of course, a vessel could hoist any colours it chose.

'Call away the cutter, an' I'll take a dozen men.'

'You'll—?'

'Yes, Mr Dacres. You're in command. I don't have t' tell you, any sign o' trouble you're to run out our guns, show 'em our force.' It was not at all usual for a captain to perform a boarding himself, but this was not a job for the inexperienced.

'Aye aye, sir.'

The cutter pulled strongly towards the merchant ship. Stirk, forward with bared cutlass, would be the first to board. Bowden sat set-faced next to him, other seamen ready close by.

The ship was larger than Teazer, four hundred tons at least and well laden, wallowing weightily in beam seas. There was something strange, almost menacing, about the drab, dark-stained timbered vessel. Kydd gave an involuntary shudder and was guiltily glad that Stirk was going over the bulwark first. They neared and prepared to hook on: now would be the most likely time for a line of vengeful French soldiers to stand up suddenly at the deckline with muskets trained, but only a row of bored, dark-featured Mediterranean sailors looked down on them.

Stirk seized the flimsy rope-ladder and with a snarl swarmed up and on to the vessel's deck. The others followed quickly and Kydd found himself confronting a short and red-faced individual. The master, he guessed.

'Le capitaine?' Kydd growled, pleased that his hours with Renzi at French lessons in the dog-watches were now paying off. But French was virtually unknown in the eastern Mediterranean and the master shook his head angrily. Kydd mimed the riffling of papers and waited patiently for him to return with them.

The man's hands trembled as he handed them over and his face showed as much anxiety as bluster. Kydd inspected the papers, looking for a bill of lading, but all the papers he held were in an impenetrable foreign language.

'Sbrigati, abbiamo una fretta del diavolo,' the man burst out angrily.

Kydd looked at him in surprise, then handed the papers to Bowden, who studied them in puzzlement. 'Er, sorry, sir, I've no idea—I think it's a form of Italian.'

'Where—you—go?' Kydd asked slowly. Suspicions were forming: the unusually wide cargo-hatch covers, the heavy stay tackles still triced in place along the yards . . . 'Stand to, you there,' he growled at his party, some of whom clearly shared his unease. He snapped, 'What—is—your—cargo?'

The man's eyes flickered once then he drew himself up and shouted venomously at Kydd, 'Una fregata da ghiaccio! Capisci? Ghi-acc-io!'

There was a definite air of anxiety now and Kydd's suspicions hardened. 'We're going t' take a look at his cargo,' he called to his men. The course of the vessel was fair for the deserts of north Africa—and Alexandria: the desperate French would seize on any means to deliver cannon to their beleaguered army.