intense expression of noble suffering. 'My friend, by their stubbornness, stupidity and malice they have forced me into the position where there is only the final sanction, the last move in the game. They insult us to think we would carry the fleet over to the enemy, for they've shown by their actions last night that this is their concern. Very well, this is barred to us. But this we can do. I have ten thousand men and a thousand guns at my command. At the expiry of our ultimatum, if the King is led by false advice to deny us our right, then we sail, up-river, to the capital. There we shall demand our due, and if not we shall with broadsides reduce the City to utter ruin.'
'Yer mad bastard, ye've lost y'r mind!' shouted the Lancaster delegate.
'Damn yer blood, c'n ye think of a better?' snarled Hulme.
Kydd put down his pen. In the violent discussions nothing was being decided. 'Mates, do we have t' fire on London t' get our way? Is this the only thing t' do?'
'Shut yer face, Kydd, you ain't a delegate,' snapped Blake.
Hulme added, 'An' yeah, if it saves our necks, cully.'
'I don' like this a-tall,' MacLaurin, delegate of Lancaster, said. 'Can't be right, firin' on our own, like that. There's kitlings 'n' all ashore, like t' stop a ball. I tell yer, we—'
Kydd was nauseous, his head ready to burst. He excused himself, went to the captain's sea-cabin and pulled out the victualling list. Some ships were running far short of proper rations.
'Director needs six tons o' water b' sundown, Mr Kydd.' It was the dour purser's steward of the ship; he had asked before, but Kydd had been caught up with the endless arguments in the Great Cabin.
'Ye can't have any now,' Kydd snapped.
'I asked ye yesterday forenoon, Mr Kydd.'
'Goddamn it t' hell! Listen, the water-hoy won't come 'cos the dockyard maties want t' slit our throats, Proserpine's waterin' party was all took b' the soldiers, an' Leopard thinks now a good time t' find her water foul 'n' wants more fr'm the fleet.'
'I said, Director needs 'er water,' the purser's steward repeated obstinately.
Blind rage surged up. 'You come here pratin' on y'r problems — y' fuckin' shaney prick, you — you— Get out! Out?
The man left soundlessly, leaving Kydd to hold his head in his hands.
How long could he hold on? Pulled apart by his loyalty to the navy and that to his shipmates, in a maelstrom of half-belief in the wickedness of the highest in the land, he had now to come to terms with the prospect, if the mutineers voted it, of doom and destruction to the heart of his country.
He threw himself out of the suffocating closeness of the cabin, needing the open sky and air. At the main shrouds he stopped, breathing heavily. He grabbed one of the great black ropes, wanting to feel in his hands its thickness, its seamanlike simplicity. He looked up at the towering maintop: its stark, uncompromising outline was urgent with warlike strength, yet in its form there was also grace and beauty for those who knew the sea.
Not long afterwards red flags descended on three of the smaller ships and were replaced by white. Fighting could be seen on the decks of one, and the red flag ascended once more, but the other two slipped away round the point to the dockyard, and safety.
Parker came on deck. 'They're deserting their shipmates!' he called loudly. 'Damn them to hell, don't we say, men?' There were weak cheers and cursing from those in earshot. But Kydd could see he was pale and shaking.
'There goes Leopard, the bloody dogs!' someone called excitedly.
Fearon, delegate to the Leopard, raised his fists. 'I know the gib-faced shab 'ut did that. When I get aboard . ..'
The bigger 50-gun ship slid away with the tide. Others in the fleet opened fire on her but she made her escape. Then it was the turn of Repulse — but her furtive setting of sails had been spotted by the alerted fleet and guns started to go off.
'Captain Davis, call away my barge,' shouted Parker. 'I'm going to send those beggars to the devil by my own hand, see if I don't!' The boat put off, and pulled madly for Director.
