He was met by General Pigot's aide. 'Good voyage, Captain?' he asked smoothly. 'His Excellency will see you shortly.' Was Pigot now taking the airs of a governor? Kydd wondered wryly.
He did not have to wait long but the man seemed preoccupied. 'An' good morning to you, Captain,' he said, rummaging on his desk. 'Blast it,' he muttered. 'Was here before, dammit.' He glanced up. 'An' what can I do for you, Mr Kydd?'
'Ah, here is my report on th' voyage just concluded, sir.'
'Oh? What kind o' passage was it, then?' he said politely, as he put it down in front of him and went back to his rummaging.
'Er, we found Admiral Warren, sir, but he already had word o' Ganteaume sailing.'
'Good. Our soldiers are very exposed at the landing, need 'em to be well protected. Anythin' else?'
Kydd gulped. 'We fell in with a merchantman being set upon by a pirate. I went in chase but—but he got away.'
'Tut tut—can't be helped. Did you see Ganteaume at all? Blasted man seems to be everywhere these days.'
'I didn't. No, sir.'
'Well, that's that. You'll be on your way, then?'
This was like no other naval operational discussion he knew of: what about the strategics of tasking his ship, an appraisal of intelligence, some kind of indication of future planning? What should he do now? 'Er, sir, I'm a little hazy about what m' duties are, an' those of m' ship. We have no senior officers until th' fleet is here—er, do y' have orders concerning me at all, sir?'
'Orders?' Pigot frowned. 'From me? Does seem you have an odd notion of what we're doin' here.' He pursed his lips. 'We—that is, the British—freed Malta from the Frenchies but this doesn't mean t' say that Malta is now ours.'
'Er, then whose—'
'In course, we have t' give it back. To your knights—the Knights of St John who've been here since afore King Henry's day. Meantimes we keep Malta in trust for 'em.'
'Are they returning to claim, sir?' Kydd asked.
'Ah—there we have a problem.'
'Sir?'
'The last Grand Master died in exile when he an' the other knights were driven out by the French and the others elected a new—then asked the Tsar of Russia for a home an' protection.
He gave it—and now the Grand Master who wants t' claim Malta is a Russian. So do you fancy a sovereign Russian territory astride the centre of the Mediterranean? Strongest fortress outside Gibraltar? Hostile t' England? Neither do I, sir!'
'And so—'
'And so we stay until we're told t' hand 'em over an' do nothing precipitate like.'
Kydd was beginning to see why there was such a lack of order in this place and no formal naval presence. Money would not be wasted on works that would have to be given up at any point. 'Then you have no instructions for me, sir?' he persisted.
Pigot said gruffly, 'Sir, I'm not one of your admirals as knows the sea. I recommend you find someone who does and take your orders from him.'
Kydd rose. 'Thank you for y'r time, sir.'
It was all most irregular, Kydd pondered in the boat on the way back to his ship. If Pigot did not want him, who did? If he reported to the distant commander-in- chief off Toulon for clarification that would take weeks. By the letter of his orders he should attach himself to the 'Malta Service'—if anyone could be termed senior officer of such an operational force he was obliged to accept that it was none other than himself.
No King's ship was at liberty to do as she pleased: if he took to the high seas on his own account it was piracy—even the act of going to sea required orders of some kind, if only to cover the routine expenditure of stores accountable against the object of the voyage. By rights he should remain at moorings until he received specific orders for the employment of his ship.
Could he endure swinging about a buoy for long weeks— months? Was it even morally right to do so while others fought? No, that was intolerable.
He could think of one solution: he would issue orders to himself. Orders for the prosecution of the war in these waters: chasing down pirates, spying out for the French, other warlike moves—and, where unavoidable, carrying dispatches. It would, of course, be prudent to have them counter-signed. He brightened at the thought of his own war without a senior to interfere. A satisfied smile spread as he ordered his coxswain to turn about and return. This time he would go to the Grand Palace and see the civil commissioner on quite a different matter.
Cameron seemed mildly curious to see him. 'Anything I can do, Cap'n?' he said cheerfully.
'Indeed, sir, there is,' began Kydd, importantly. 'I have been placed in command o' the Malta Naval Service, an' I beg you will acquaint me with your chief concerns that they might be taken into account in our planning.'
'Malta Naval Service?' Cameron murmured absently.
'Aye, sir. The man-o'-war
'Well, now, an' I do have my worries as well you c'n understand.' He leaned back and regarded Kydd curiously. 'An' the chief one, o' course, is trade protection, destroying th' pests that infest these seas. We're particularly vexed by privateers in the Sicily Channel—that's your passage between Sicily and the Barbary coast. Quite upset the trade from the west. And then there's always troubles around the Greek islands, Ligurians and similar.'
'A serious matter, sir.' That would be an aggressive war patrol to the west, then, showing the flag and
