Authors: Alexander Kent
He had said, “There is a brig coming from England soon.” He had looked at her, the way she held her head, the rich hair shining beneath her large straw hat. If anything she was lovelier than ever. “If you insist on going in her to Sydney, her master cannot refuse. And neither can your husband. You obeyed his wishes. The gesture was made. Nothing can be gained by your staying, and I'll not let him stand by and watch you endanger your health.”
It was then that she had stopped and had taken his hands, pulling him round to face her.
“You don't understand at all, do you, Richard?” She had smiled up at him, her eyes shining. “What if I did as you suggest? Take the next available ship to England, pack my belongings and go to your house in Falmouth?” She had shaken her head before he could protest. “I love you dearly, and because of that I
want
to stay. I need to be here! To be hundreds and hundreds of miles away, wondering, fearing for you and waiting for your ship to anchor would only add to my torment. Here, at least, I can see you. Touch you. Be near to you. I know that if I allow us to be parted again, it will be forever. If you are ordered to New South Wales, to India, to the ends of the globe, then I will go to your Falmouth, and gladly.” She had shaken her head again. “But leave you at James's hands,
never!
”
Bolitho thought about it as he watched Raymond's fingers leafing through his official papers.
She had been right. He had not understood. All he had considered had been her safety, her freedom from Raymond. But love pushed caution aside and made a fool of prudence.
“And now, gentlemen.” Raymond looked up. “This is what I believe to be our next objective. For myself, the expansion and protection of this settlement and its trade routes is important.” He smiled at de Barras's finely chiselled features. “And you,
M'sieu le Comte,
will wish to recover your renegade and return to your homeland as originally intended.”
De Barras nodded slightly, his lips pursed, cautious, unwilling to show his hand too soon.
Raymond looked at Hardacre. “I know how
you
feel about what has happened, but I imagine it has been coming for months. Those who live in the midst of a problem are often the last to be aware it exists.” A gentle smile. “However, we are here, and whether they like it or not a few natives are going to have to put up with us. This is not one of John Company's concessions now, nor a private enterprise. These islands are claimed by the Crown and are entitled to its protection.”
Bolitho watched de Barras. That last part had made him glance quickly at his lieutenant. Raymond was making his own position very clear, just supposing that the French might also have their eyes on the Levu Islands.
Then he looked at Herrick. Arms folded, blue eyes on the opposite wall. He was feeling out of place, uncomfortable. He was probably thinking of the ship. Repairs done, and all that still awaited his attention.
For a moment he saw Herrick again on that terrible beach. Sword in hand, his face towards a pack of angry, blood-maddened natives. A minuteâno, seconds longer, and that chair would now be empty.
Raymond went on smoothly, “With the assistance of the
Narval
and her excellent crew, I trust that all our objectives can be gained. It is in our interest that the pirate Mathias Tuke and his men be excised and punished without further loss to us.”
Bolitho knew de Barras was looking across at him, to remind him no doubt of their other meeting. They were almost his exact words.
Raymond said, “In return we will do all we can to recapture the Comte's prisoner.” He looked directly at the French captain. “I am certain that when I send my despatches to London to announce our success they will be equally well received in Paris, eh,
M'sieu le Comte?
”
De Barras stretched his legs and smiled. “I understand.”
And so do I.
Bolitho would not have believed it, had he not been present. De Barras must have entertained Raymond very well, there was even a goodly supply of wine being carried into the settlement by some of his seamen as Bolitho had arrived. And yet, like all tyrants, de Barras was still open for compliments, ready to accept Raymond's hint of a word in high places which could eventually benefit him in France. If, as Bolitho suspected, de Barras had been given his lonely command to keep him out of his own country until some trouble had been forgotten, then Raymond's casual offer would mean even more.
The door opened slightly and one of Hardacre's servant girls peered inside, obviously overwhelmed by the presence of so much authority.
Raymond snapped, “See what she wants.”
The half-caste, Kimura, muttered something and then said, “The chief is here.” He gestured to the window. “He waits in the yard.”
“Let him wait.” Raymond seemed ruffled by the interruption.
Hardacre said, “Tinah is a great chief, Mr Raymond. A good friend. It would be wrong to treat him in this fashion.”
“Oh, very well. You go to him if you must.” Raymond eyed him coldly. “But none of your promises, d'you hear?”
Hardacre strode out, his big sandals flapping on the rush mats. “I
hear
.”
“Ah well.” Raymond realized the overseer was still present. “You can leave, too.” He smiled. “It is hard for them to appreciate progress.” The smile disappeared. “The youth who came from North Island with the news of the attack has not been found.”
Bolitho said, “He probably thought he would be seen as a traitor, sir. But it does prove that even on North Island there are some who trust Hardacre enough to come to him for aid.”
“Maybe. But the damage is done now. Tuke attacked your ship, but that was the deed of a felon and a murderer. Those
friendly
natives tried to kill your people and butchered most of Hardacre's militia. That, in view of what you were
trying
to do at the time, is unforgivable!”
“They did not understand any difference between Tuke's men and my own, and why should they?” Bolitho knew it was useless.
“Well, they will now, damn them!” Raymond swung round in his chair as Hardacre came in again. “What is it?”
Hardacre replied, “The chief says that his people are ashamed of what happened to my men.” He looked at Bolitho. “And yours. But the chief of North Island was killed at the first attack. Less stable heads are in charge there now. It has never been the most friendly of islands, and now because their boats are burned they will be in hard times. Our people here are afraid to visit them.”
Raymond sniffed. “I'm not surprised. And what did you promise them? A ship full of fat pigs and new boats?”
De Barras chuckled.
“I promised that you would give them help, sir, leave them unpunishedâ”
“You did what?”
Hardacre went on stubbornly, “In return they will bring news of Tuke. Do all they can to help in his capture. They have no cause to like him, and every reason to fear your reprisals.”
Raymond dabbed his mouth. “Help in his capture, you say?” He looked at de Barras. “Well now.”
He made up his mind. “Captain Bolitho. Go and speak with this, er, chief. Tell him you were a personal friend of Captain Cook, anything you like. But get him to talk with you.”
Hardacre followed Bolitho out of the room and stood outside the door breathing heavily, the planks creaking beneath his weight.
“He is a great chief! Not an idiot child!” He turned to Bolitho. “I could kill that man with less emotion than crushing a beetle.”
Bolitho went down the wooden stairway and towards the glaring sunlight. In the middle of the compound yard, on a small, ornate stool, the chief was sitting very erect and still, his dark eyes fixed on the empty gibbet. He was younger than Bolitho had expected, with thick, bushy hair and a small beard. His garment was of green cloth embroidered with coloured beads, and around his neck he wore a simple loop of gold wire.
His eyes shifted to Bolitho as Hardacre said, “Tinah, this is the English captain. From the ship.” He hesitated before adding, “A good man.”
Tinah's eyes had not flickered or moved from Bolitho's face during the introduction, but now he smiled, suddenly and disarmingly.
Bolitho asked, “What you have told Mr Hardacre about the pirates: is it possible you can find them for us?”
“Everything is possible.” His voice was deep, his accent halting, but Bolitho doubted if anyone could have looked more like a chief. “We have peace now. We wish to keep it, Captain. Your men were attacked. But what would your heart say if you saw your women being used and then killed, your home burned before your eyes? Would you stop to say, these men are good, those are bad?” He raised a thick, intricately carved rod and drove it hard into the ground. “No. You say, kill!”
Herrick came out of the building and looked at the seated chief and his small group of retainers who were waiting by the gates of the compound.
He said, “Pardon the interruption, sir, but Mr Hardacre is wanted upstairs.” He smiled. “I almost said,
on deck,
sir. It seems the gallant French captain wishes to enquire about water and provisions on the surrounding islands.”
Hardacre nodded grimly. “I'll go. It is vital that his ship enters each anchorage in a peaceful manner. I don't want these people to see him as an enemy.” He added, “No matter what
I
think.”
Herrick looked hard at the chief. “There was a man taken prisoner. His name was Finney.”
“I knew Finney.” Tinah glanced at the building. “I did not tell my friend how he died. Just that he did die.”
Herrick asked harshly, “Can you tell me?”
“If your captain wishes.” The chief sighed. “North Island is not like this one. Finney was tied to a stake and covered with clay taken from the stream. His breath was kept for him by a reed through the clay.” His eyes were fixed on Herrick's. “Then his body was held over a very slow fire.”
Herrick turned away, revolted. “Baked alive, for God's sake!”
Tinah shrugged. “My father told me of such things. But in North Island . . .”
Herrick nodded. “I know. They are different from your people.”
The chief watched Herrick as he returned to the building. “That must be the strong one. The man who stood alone.” He nodded. “Yes, I have heard of him.”
Hardacre came back and said, “It is done.” He looked at Bolitho. “If that's all, Captain?”
Bolitho touched his hat. “Yes.”
Hardacre and the chief obviously had things to discuss. A rift to heal before it could destroy both of them.
In Raymond's room again he found the others taking wine.
The other door opened, and a servant stood aside to allow Viola Raymond to enter.
Raymond introduced her to de Barras, who bowed from the waist and kissed her hand, saying, “My dear lady, I was so grieved that you did not come to my humble quarters with your husband, the Resident.”
She replied, “Thank you,
M'sieu le Comte,
perhaps another time.”
The French lieutenant bowed stiffly and mumbled something in very broken English.
Viola looked at Herrick and held out her hand. “Why, Lieutenant, it is so nice to see you again.”
Herrick's tan hid what must have been a blush. “Er, thank you, ma'am. It's good to see you, too. Indeed it is.”
She crossed to Bolitho and offered her hand. “Captain?”
Bolitho touched her fingers with his lips. “Mrs Raymond.”
Their eyes met, and he felt the gentle pressure of her fingers on his.
As she moved away to speak with the servant, de Barras walked to Bolitho's side and said softly, “Ah, now I think I know why she did not come to my ship,
oui?
”
He returned to his lieutenant, laughing quietly to himself.
Herrick whispered, “Did you hear that, sir? Impudent dog!” He turned his back to the others. “But you see how it goes, sir? You must take care!”
Bolitho looked past him, watching her hair lying across her shoulders.
Take care.
Herrick did not know what it was like to stand meekly by and watch the one you loved so dearly held at arm's length.
The only bright piece of news had been that brought by the young chief, Tinah. If they could run the pirates to earth, and destroy their power once and for all, there was the very real possibility that
Tempest
would be ordered home, to England. And then?
Herrick watched his captain sadly. It was hopeless. It was like telling a bull not to charge, a cat not to chase mice.
He saw a table being prepared in the adjoining room and counted the chairs.
Well, we might as well make the best of it while it lasts,
he decided.