Bolitho 19 - Beyond the Reef Read Free Page B

Richard. It will be a month or so yet, I’m told.”
    Bolitho watched the passing dockyard boats, and a yawl towing a new mast for some ship undergoing refit. If Napoleon did invade Spain, the naval blockade would have to be tighter than ever until they could put an army ashore to meet the French in open battle. He thought sadly of Herrick. Even his poor, battered Benbow might be sent back into the fray.
    He heard the distant crack of a musket, and saw figures running on to Black Prince’s forecastle; he guessed that a marine had just fired on a would-be deserter.
    Sedgemore said between his teeth, “I think they got him.”
    Bolitho looked at him calmly. “Would it not be more useful to put your pickets on the foreshore and catch them if they swim there? A corpse is little use for anything, I’d have thought.” It was mildly said, but Jenour saw the first lieutenant wince as if he had been hit in the face.
    The next few moments put all else from his mind. The climb up the slippery side, the trill of calls and the stamp and crash of the Royal Marines’ guard of honour. Then Keen, his handsome features full of welcome as he stepped forward to greet him.
    They shook hands, and Keen guided him aft to the great cabin.
    “Well, Val?” Bolitho sat down and looked at his friend. “You will not be hampered by me again just yet.”
    He watched Keen pouring claret, noting the lines around his mouth. Strain of command. The many, many difficulties of completing a refit and putting right the wounds of battle. Making up a depleted company, storing, taking on powder and shot, preparing new watch-bills to eke out the experienced hands among the volunteers and pressed men. Bolitho had known all these challenges even in his first command, a small sloop-of-war.
    “It is good to see you.” Keen offered him a goblet. “Your visit sounds something of a mystery.” He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.
    “And how is Zenoria? Missing you, no doubt?”
    Keen turned away and fumbled with his keys. “There was a despatch delivered on board this morning, sir. It came by post-horse from the Admiralty.” He opened a drawer and took it out. “I forgot, in the excitement of your arrival.”
    Bolitho took it and glanced at the seal. Something was wrong. Catherine had hinted as much.
    He said, “I am ordered to Cape Town, Val, to ensure there is no further complacency. We need more local patrols than ever now that the anti-slavery bill has been passed in Parliament. Slavers, pirates, privateers—they will all need seeking out.”
    Keen stared at him as if he had not heard properly.
    Bolitho added quietly, “They require an experienced post-captain to command there. He will have the broad-pendant of commodore for his pains. I will return to Black Prince eventually, but if you accept this appointment, you will not.”
    “I, sir?” Keen put down his goblet without seeing it. “Quit Black Prince?” He looked up, his eyes full of dismay. “And leave you, sir?”
    Bolitho smiled. “This war is coming to a crisis, Val. We must put an army into Europe. We shall need our best leaders when that time comes. You are an obvious choice—you’ve earned it ten times over, and the fleet will need flag officers like you now that Our Nel is dead.”
    He recalled the general he had met just before they had managed to retake Cape Town. Despite all the triumphs at sea, they will be as nought until the English foot-soldier plants his boots on the enemy’s own shores.
    Keen walked to the spray-streaked stern windows and stared down at the distorted waves beneath the counter.
    “When might this be, sir?” He sounded dazed by the sudden turn of events. Trapped.
    “Soon. Black Prince, I am assured, will be in dockyard hands for some while yet.”
    Keen turned. “Advise me, sir.”
    Bolitho took a knife and slit open the thick envelope. “I know what it means to be parted from a lover. But it is the lot of every sea officer. It is also his duty to