Cross of St George Read Free

“But they hanged him for his loyalty, as if he were a common felon.”
    He looked at the faces across the table, without seeing them. His outward composure was a lie, and he knew he would break down if he persisted. “I sold the sword of honour to a collector who values such things.” He heard the murmurs of surprise behind his back. “As for the money, I gave it to George Starr’s widow. It is all she will receive, I imagine.”
    He bowed stiffly and turned away from the table, walking between the ranks of chairs with his hand to his side as if he expected to feel the old torment. He did not even see the expressions, sympathy, understanding, and perhaps shame: he saw only the door, which was already being opened by a white-gloved marine. His own marines and seamen had died that day, a debt no sword of honour could ever repay.
    There were a few people in the outer lobby. Beyond them, he saw the falling snow, so clean after what he had attempted to describe.
    One, a civilian, stepped forward and held out his hand. His face seemed vaguely familiar, yet Adam knew they had never met.
    The man hesitated. “I am so sorry, Captain Bolitho. I should not detain you further after what you have just experienced.” He glanced across the room where a woman sat, gazing at them intently. “My wife, sir.”
    Adam wanted to leave. Very soon the others would be milling around him, congratulating him, praising him for what he had done, when earlier they would have watched him facing the point of the sword with equal interest. But something held him. As if someone had spoken aloud.
    â€œIf I can be of service, sir?”
    The man was well over sixty years old, but there was an erectness, a pride in his bearing as he explained, “My name is Hudson, Charles Hudson. You see …” He fell silent as Adam stared at him, his composure gone.
    He said, “Richard Hudson, my first lieutenant in Anemone .” He tried to clear his mind. Hudson, who had slashed down the ensign with his hanger while he himself lay wounded and unable to move. Again, it was like being an onlooker, hearing others speak . I ordered you to fight the ship! Each despairing gasp wrenching at his wound like a branding iron. And all the while Anemone was dying beneath them, even as the enemy surged alongside. And Hudson’s last words before Adam was lowered into a boat. If we ever meet again ...
    Adam could still hear his own answer. As God is my witness, I will kill you, damn your eyes!
    â€œWe had only one letter from him.” Hudson glanced again at his wife and Adam saw her nod, helping him. She looked frail, unwell. It had cost them dearly to come here.
    He said, “How is he?”
    Charles Hudson did not seem to hear. “My brother was a vice-admiral. He used his influence to have Richard appointed to your ship. When he wrote, he always spoke of you so warmly … he was so proud to be serving with you. When I heard about your court martial, as they dare to call it, we had to come. To see you, to thank you for what you did for Richard. He was our only son.”
    Adam tensed. Was. “What happened?”
    â€œIn his letter he said he wanted to find you. To explain … something.” He dropped his head. “He was shot, attempting to escape. He was killed.”
    Adam felt the room sway, like the deck of a ship. All that time, the pain and the despair, the hatred because of what had happened; and he had thought only of himself.
    He said, “I shall tell my uncle when I see him. He was known to your son.” Then he took the man’s arm and led him towards his wife. “There was nothing for Richard to explain. Now he is at peace, he will know that.”
    Hudson’s mother was on her feet, holding out her hand to him. Adam stooped, and kissed her cheek. It was like ice.
    â€œThank you.” He looked at each of them. “Your loss is my loss also.”
    He glanced round as