Tenacious

They entered the tent: rich hangings, soft carpets, riotous colour, unknown tongues—it was all an exotic wonder to Kydd.

To one side a man sat cross-legged and others stood round him obsequiously. The man, whom Smith indicated was Djezzar, rose: well-built and mature, he wore the full burnous of the desert Arab and carried himself with dignity, a diamond-hilted dagger at his waist.

Smith bowed deeply and Kydd hastened to do likewise. Smith spoke in French to Djezzar, and the four then retired to the interior where they all sat cross-legged. Kydd refused a bubble-pipe but Hewitt accepted out of curiosity. Kydd looked furtively about for ladies of the harem but, disappointingly, saw none.

Smith conversed urbanely and at length with Djezzar, whose harsh, booming voice had a hard edge of authority. Kydd leaned over to Hewitt. 'What's the drift?' he whispered.

'Asking for men to build up the fortifications,' Hewitt replied, in a low voice, 'and about the Turkish cavalry promised to us.' There was a snarl and impassioned words from Djezzar. 'He says he told them to go out and attack the enemy and not to return until they had done something worthy of his notice.'

The audience had apparently been a success: on the way back to their headquarters Smith made light commentary on the sights, approving the purposeful hurry of gangs now setting about clearing detritus and rubble from the walls, labouring at the stonework, shoring up weak bastions.

In their campaign room Smith looked in satisfaction at the map as he made corrections and notes. 'So far, so good,' he said briskly. 'El Djezzar is proving most co-operative, and I'm sanguine that if we do our part we shall have a good chance of delaying the French long enough for the Turks to bring them to battle.

'There is much to do—I shall be returning aboard Tigre. I want those guns landed before sunset and placed in position without delay. Your orders are here.' He produced a slim sheaf of papers. 'In essence they require you to act for me ashore.

Djezzar Pasha has been notified that you may do so in my name. Therefore you will acquaint yourselves thoroughly with my orders so that nothing is overlooked.'

He considered for a moment, then said, 'We have no reliable knowledge of the French advance. It might be prudent to begin a regular reconnaissance south until their presence is detected. One of you will take a boat away at dusk for this purpose.'

'So, we have our orders, an' our task is tolerably clear. I only hope we can get away in time.'

'You are not confident of a favourable outcome?' Hewitt responded coolly.

'Are you?'

'I know my duty, I believe,' Hewitt said stiffly.

'F'r me ...' Kydd began, and thought better of it. 'Then let's be started. Where's Suleiman, the translator we've been promised?' He turned out to be the tall man at the seraglio.

'Er, Mr Suleiman, I want t' see the serang—whatever you'd call th' chief of the workers on the wall. There's not a moment t' lose.'

The first gun from Tigre was landed at the mole soon after midday: a heavy twenty-four-pounder, laid along the thwarts of a launch, and its two tons of cold iron swayed ashore by improvised sheer-legs. A gun-carriage followed, then boats with powder and shot, some with stores and rum casks.

Soon after, the grinning faces of Dobbie, his close friend Laffin and others arrived in Tenacious's cutter, volunteers all, ready to man the guns that would soon face the great Napoleon Buonaparte. Their twenty-four-pounder, which had come earlier in the launch, was man-hauled through the streets and into place.

'Dobbie, you're gun captain here. There'll be a Frenchy along presently as will tell ye where, er, you'll best direct y'r fire.' There would be no looming enemy ship to fire into: presumably it would be columns of men or random waves of attackers. He ignored the puzzled looks of the men at the word 'Frenchy.'

The Tenacious gun was mounted at the end of the wall where it met the sea to the south and commanded the open ground in front of the town, now being broken up to form a discouragement to attackers. Kydd let his gaze move across the littered landscape: wild fig trees and hovels had been levelled out to line-of-sight of the nearest high ground some quarter of a mile away. Beyond that was the anonymous dry, scrubby country that stretched inland to distant purple hills. It would be from this direction that the army of Napoleon Buonaparte would come.

Kydd watched Dobbie dispose his men in imitation of shipboard, handspike and crow to hand. He had ensured that there was a semblance of a magazine along the inside of the wall and gave orders for the safe handling of powder and shot. But he was becoming uneasy in this unfamiliar world and hoped their withdrawal would not be long delayed; it had been in a similar siege on land at Calvi that Nelson had lost the sight of one eye to the splintering stone of a ricocheting shot.

Hewitt had concluded his gun dispositions at the other end of the wall—they could now converge fire and, judging from the chattering fascination of gaping onlookers, they were giving heart by their presence.

They met later back at their musty headquarters for a snatched meal. 'We get marines t'morrow,' Kydd said, through the last of his lamb stew, 't' use as we please.'

'Orders are strict enough in the matter of sentries. I'd far rather trust a leatherneck on sentry-go than a Turk, if you take my point.'

'I do. An' I notice that we're on watch an' watch—days on an' split the nights?'

'Alternately?'

'Agreed.' Kydd lifted his cup in acknowledgement; the wine was dry and resinous but pleasant enough. Hewitt looked disapprovingly at the china cup but drank.

'And the dusk patrol?'

'That's f'r me,' Kydd said quickly—the chance for some sea-time was not to be missed. It was also an opportunity to show Smith what he could do.

'Then I'll take the first watch.'

'Aye.'