he had reached his mess a small midshipman tugged his arm. 'Able Seaman Kydd?' he squeaked, breathless.
'Aye?'
'Lay aft and attend the Captain,' the reefer said importantly. Kydd stared at him. 'This instant, you dog!' the youngster shrilled.
Kydd padded aft, and made himself known to the sentry. Dare he hope?
Inside the Great Cabin the Captain sat at his desk, the first lieutenant standing near him with papers. 'Ah, Kydd?' It was the first time that Captain Bomford had addressed Kydd directly.
'Sir.'
'I understand you are one of the volunteers from Artemis.' Bomford had a pleasant, urbane manner. Kydd's heart leaped.
'Aye, sir.'
'You rounded the Horn, I believe.' 'Sir.'
'And you were quartermaster's mate at the time.'
'Acting quartermaster, sir.' He would never forget that exhilarating but terrifying time in the great Southern Ocean, the massive seas and sudden squalls slamming in from nowhere ...
'And Duke William before that?' The first lieutenant exchanged looks with Bomford.
'Yes, sir.' The big 98-gun ship-of-the-line and its memories were well behind him now. No need to add that he had been on her books as a lowly landman and then ordinary seaman.
'Then I am sure that you will do well in Trajan? Bomford said smoothly. 'It is in my mind to rate you petty officer — what do you think of that?'
Yes! He had been right to hope! A cooler voice intervened: Auberon would have primed Bomford about the presence aboard of a suitable replacement well before the events of the morning; Kydd had no illusions about his good fortune. Nevertheless ...
'I'd like it well, if ye please, sir.' There was no suppressing the smile. 'In what rate, sir?'
The captain's eyebrows rose as he studied a paper. 'Quartermaster's mate.' He met Kydd's eyes again. 'If you do your duty strictly and diligently I see no reason why you should not rely on further advancement, if the opportunity arises.'
'Thank ye, sir.' It was a priceless step.
'Then you are so rated. The first lieutenant will arrange your watch and station. Carry on, please.'
Kydd strode back down to the fo'c'sle with his news clutched to his heart, and stopped suddenly. He was now a petty officer: he did not belong with the others. His excitement fell away as he realised that all his messmates were now subordinate to him, every one — even Renzi, his particular friend.
He continued down to the gundeck, but kept his announcement until after the noon meal when he quietly made his goodbyes. He left Renzi to the end. His friend had taken the news with annoying equanimity, hanging back with a slight smile while the others slapped his back and showed gratifying envy. It was time. Awkwardly he held out his hand. Renzi took it with a firm handshake, but said nothing. Kydd mumbled something, and left.
Right aft on the larboard side of the gundeck were the petty officers' messes. Each was screened off with canvas, a little world within a world. Kydd scratched on the entrance of his new home; he was answered by Toby Stirk.
'Knoo you'd waste no time a-gettin' yerself a petty officer's berth!' The hard-featured seaman grinned — with his experience he had been quickly entered as a quarter gunner — and pulled him inside. It was snug and well appointed with pewter mess-traps, and the inside of the screens were splendidly decorated with colourful painted nautical scenes.
'This 'ere is Thomas Kydd — shipmates wi' me in Artemis, he was. Right taut hand o' the watch is Tom,' Stirk said smugly, his dark eyes glittering. There was no one Kydd would have preferred to serve the compliments: Stirk's courage in battle
