The Gathering Storm (18 page)

'Starboard broadside, point blank. Very good, sir.'

'You must aim your guns at such an angle on the sprung
breeching ropes that we concentrate our fire on her gunports
and shatter them, knock her great guns off their carriages, and
kill men. You will then reload with grape.'

'Grape, sir?'

'Aye, you heard me right. By now the frigate will be bearing
down, and, will seek to smash us in turn. But I will not
permit her commander to do it. I will now tack nor'-east,
straight at him.
We will go head to head, and we, Mr Abey,
will have the wind.'

'Aye, sir.' Nodding, beginning to understand the sheer
audacity of the plan.

'If I am not mistook, he will break first. He will tack east
or west, it don't matter which. As soon as he does we will
have him, because the manoeuvre will cost him speed. We
will go straight at him as he tacks, and again fire our starboard
battery at a severe angle, rake his deck with grape,
smash his rigging, and kill men. We will then cross his stern,
Mr Abey, and riddle his backside with our larboard battery,
double-shotted. That will smash his rudder, and render him
helpless. And by God we will have no fucking mercy, come
that moment! D'y'hear me?'

'Yes, sir.' Lifting his head.

'Very well. Return to your duty, Mr Abey.'

'Very good, sir.' His hat obediently off and on, and he ran
down the ladder.

Rennie peered about him. 'Mr Tangible!'

The boatswain appeared, limping along the larboard
gangway from the fo'c's'le. He too had been wounded the
first fire, had been taken into the orlop by the surgeon Dr
Wing, and been sufficiently patched and restored to come
on deck and supervise repair. His face now showed both
extreme fatigue, after the rigours of the night, and pain.

'I am here, sir.'

'You are hurt, Roman Tangible.' Concern in his voice. 'I
had not realised you was injured so severe ...'

'Splinters, sir, damn' flying splinters.'

'Your leg?'

'Both of my legs, in truth. Howsomever, I regard myself
as lucky.'

'Lucky!'

'Aye, sir, when so many others was wounded very horrible,
and the doctor unable to attend to them before they perished,
in the heat of battle. I am a lucky man, that can still walk
and talk, and do my duty.'

'Well said, well said. Here, take a pull.' Rennie handed
him his flask, and the boatswain took a long, grateful draught.

'Thankee, sir, most welcome.' Handing it back. Rennie
took a pull himself, and thrust the flask away in his coat.

'And now we must make sail, Mr Tangible. We have hot
work to do this day.'

The first burning gleams of the sun showed over the rocky
coastline in the east, and the two French ships began to make
their converging run at
Expedient
in the lifting wind, as the
calls piped echoing across her deck.

In the event Rennie's plan did not go according to his
wishes. In fact it did not proceed beyond its formulation
in his head, and its explication to his acting third, Mr Abey.
'Anything may happen at sea' is an axiom well known to
seamen, from the lowliest idler to the Admiral of the Fleet.
It was well known to Captain Rennie, and one he was fond
of iterating at dinner, or upon his quarterdeck, or indeed
anywhere and at any time it occurred to him. It occurred
to him now, as the corvette, far from chasing him as he
had hoped, instead swung north and made herself the
frigate's close companion on the sea. And then both French
ships began to come directly at Rennie, even as he came
about to give himself the wind gage.

'God damn and blast those bloody duplicitous Frenchie
villains!'

'Sir?' Mr Loftus.

'You see what they are about, the fucking wretches!'

'Yes, sir, I do.' Holding his glass. 'But there is—'

'They mean to flank me, one on either side, and blow
me to kingdom bloody come!'

'There is another ship, sir.' Pointing.

'What!'

'Coming up from the south, sir. I think she—'

'From the south?' Raising his own glass. 'Am I to be
dogged by every damned ship in the French navy, for
Christ's sake!'

'I think she ain't of the same French navy, sir.'

'Eh?' Peering.

'You will see her colours are white, entire. On the corvette
and the frigate closing upon us, their colours are white with
a red, white and blue canton on the hoist. The colours
adopted by the French navy a year since. That means that
the attacking ships are loyal to the revolution, don't it, sir,
and the—'

'And the ship to the south ain't, by God! You are right,
Mr Loftus. I believe she comes to aid us. Hey?'

'That is my opinion, sir.'

'How d'y'make her out? A frigate, would y'say?'

'A corvette, I should say.' Lowering his glass, then raising
it and focusing it again. 'Yes, a corvette.'

'Then we are evenly matched against the others – if she
does in fact join us, and ain't just shamming.'

'There is a simple way to discover that, sir.'

'Aye, Mr Loftus, there is.'

And presently
Expedient
swung to the south, to meet the
oncoming corvette. Who hailed her as
Expedient
came within
pistol shot, one glass after, close-hauled on the larboard
tack.

'
La frégate anglaise!
' An officer in the bow, with a speaking
trumpet. '
Mettrez en panne!
'

Glancing to the north, Rennie ordered his ship
hove to. The yards were braced, foresails aback, and she
rapidly lost way as she came abreast of the French ship,
which had already hove to. This was a risk for both
ships, given the pursuit of the two ships from the north,
but in Rennie's view a risk worth taking if he had found
a true ally.

Richard Abey, as the only quarterdeck speaker of French,
was summoned to act as interpreter, as the two ships spoke.
He listened, and then translated:

'They are the corvette
La Fidélité
. They ask, have we the
king aboard, sir?'

'We have not, say to them.' Rennie. 'We have had to
fight the two ships now bearing down on us, through the
night, and have had no time for anything else.'

Presently: 'They ask: do we wish them to assist us?'

'In what sense?'

The question put, and answered, and Richard Abey:

'In action, sir. They oppose the revolution, and wish to
aid the king's escape.'

'Ask them, right quick, how they know of the king's
attempt to escape.'

Again the question asked, and the reply made.

'They say they have been sent to aid us by the king's
loyal friends, and they ask where the king is located at
present.'

Rennie, quietly: 'That answer puzzles me, Mr Abey. If
they have been sent by the king's friends, why do not they
know where he is? Say that we don't know anything, that
we await instruction.' And as Richard Abey raised the
speaking trumpet to make the response, Rennie turned and:

'Mr Loftus?'

'Sir?' By Rennie's side.

'Pass the word, very quiet and discreet, fore and aft, that
we will get under way in two minutes. The signal shall be
when I take off my hat.'

'Very good, sir.' And he beckoned a boy.

As Mr Abey finished translating Rennie's reply to the
French ship, Rennie spoke to him very low and earnest.

'Now then, Mr Abey. When I tap you on the shoulder
y'will slip down the ladder to the gundeck and instruct your
larboard divisions by quiet word of mouth to point their
guns at the corvette's mainmast. The moment you see me
lift my hat at the breast-rail you are to open fire.'

'Fire at the corvette, sir?
This
corvette?'

'Aye, Richard, this one. They ain't our friends, I fear, nor
King Louis's neither. I want to snap her mainmast our first
fire, and then we will break off the engagement at once, go
about, and straight at the advancing ships. Straight at 'em,
and pass between them, firing both batteries simultaneous.
You have me? You see what I am about?'

'Aye, sir.' A quick nod.

'Very well. Thank
La Fidélité
very polite, bow to them
and so forth. And then go down the ladder and wait for
my signal.'

'Your signal – your hat. Very good, sir.'

He raised the speaking trumpet, made the reply, and felt
Rennie tap him on the shoulder. He ran down the ladder
into the waist. As he did so, the master was again at Rennie's
shoulder:

'Sir, the two ships approaching from the north are getting
dangerous near.'

Rennie glanced at the advancing frigate and corvette.
'Aye, but they will not fire on us so long as we are alongside
La Fidélité
. That would risk damage to her. They will
attack only when I fire on her, and break clear. It is essential
that we go at them head on, Mr Loftus, to give them
only the narrowest possible target. And remember, we still
have the wind. We will have the weather-gage.'

A tense few moments. The corvette's officer asked more
questions through his speaking trumpet, and received no
reply. He repeated his questions, seemed puzzled, then
alarmed. He ran aft along the gangway, and at that moment
Rennie took off his hat. At once Mr Loftus:

'Make sail! Stand by to go about!' Followed by a flurry
of activity, and Richard Abey's cry:

'Larboard battery –
fire, fire, fire
!'

B-BOOM B-BOOM B-BOOM B-BOOM-BANG-BANG

Blasts of flame and great balloons of gritty smoke from
Expedient
's side, and she shook and shuddered with the thudding
shocks of her guns through her timbers. Rennie's ears
rang as he saw the corvette's mainmast shiver, teeter, and
go by the board, dragging down shrouds, yards, sails,
halyards in a creaking, slumping tangle of destruction. The
whole little ship lurched and heeled to starboard as the mast
crashed down over the hammock cranes and into the sea.
Terrible damage had been done to other parts of her upperworks,
and men could be heard screaming.

And even as the smoke drifted across the shadowy water
between the two ships,
Expedient
began to swing away from
the stricken ship, and turn to meet her other opponents.

From the gundeck:

'Re-lo-o-o-o-oad!'

As
Expedient
came on to her new heading, her sails
bellying full on the starboard tack, the French frigate fired
her two bow chasers – nine-pounder guns. Twin orange
flashes, and roundshot droned past
Expedient
to larboard,
and kicked up shocks of spray aft.

'Hard at them, Mr Loftus! Let us meet the buggers
head on!'

'The corvette is bearing west, sir! She is breaking away
to attack us to larboard!' The master.

'Thankee, Mr Loftus. I see her. We will go straight at
the frigate.'

The song now of the rising wind in the rigging.
Expedient
pitching a little in the following sea, and rolling. Spray flew
across the bow, and sluiced the fo'c's'le. The timeless, pulsing
cry of a seabird away to starboard, like a mockery of
humankind.

Rennie brought up his glass to look at the second corvette,
and saw the flashes along her larboard port strake as she
opened fire. A series of spray strikes a cable short of
Expedient
as the corvette's six-pound roundshot fell harmless. At the
same moment came the wind-muffled sound of her guns.

THUMP
-
thud THUMP
-
thud THUMP
-
thud

And now a disturbing sight greeted Captain Rennie at
the starboard waist ladder. Lieutenant Makepeace, his face
ghastly pale, one arm in a sling and his breast bandaged
white, came slowly up the ladder, pulling himself up by his
free arm on the rigged hand-rope. His undress coat was
draped about his shoulders, and his breeches were spattered
with blood.

'Good God, Tom ... you should not be on deck.' Rennie,
in dismay.

'As Dr Wing told me, sir. But I know my duty, and it
don't lie below.'

'You cannot aid me, nor the ship, by struggling about
the deck in your condition, Tom.'

Lieutenant Makepeace did not heed his commander, and
came up on the quarterdeck. 'When
Expedient
is attacked
we are all attacked, sir. Ain't that so?'

'Aye, but I cannot allow you to risk further injury to your
person when you are so badly hurt. Your place is below.'

'Sir, I beg you to allow me the opportunity to defend—'

'Mr Makepeace!' Over him, forced reluctantly to be
severe. 'You will kindly go below!'

'Sir, if you will only allow me to—'

'No, sir, I will not. You are in my way, you are an impediment
to my fighting the ship efficient.'

'Sir, I—'

'Christ's blood, will you do as you are told, sir!' Very
angry with his first lieutenant for obliging him to be severe,
when all he wished for him was kind attention and a speedy
recovery.

'I am very sorry to have offended you by my honest wish
to serve you, sir ...' The lieutenant had tears in his eyes
as he turned away slowly, gripped the breast-rail and took
a step toward the ladder.

Rennie moved to assist him, and thought better of it.
Probably such assistance would only add to his distress.

'God damn the stupid fellow!' Rennie, in his head. 'He
has made me out the overbearing villain, when all I meant
to do was save him from himself!'

'Frigate bearing away west, sir!'

As the French frigate heeled on the starboard tack,
exposing her larboard ports, which instantly came to life
in a flickering of flashes and rushing puffs of smoke.

Grapeshot smacked, fizzed and cut into
Expedient
's upperworks
in a stuttering hail. One of these small lethal spheres
struck Lieutenant Makepeace at the top of the waist ladder,
spun him round with half of his head chopped away, and
flung him across the gangway.

'Tom!' Rennie, in anguish.

The body sprawled on the gangway, then tumbled slack
into the waist, the smashed skull pouring blood.

'Christ Jesu ...' Staring down a moment longer, then
turning – only half aware of the destruction all around him
– and:

'You bloody wretches!' Bellowing at the still-turning
frigate as smoke hung in a long cloud over the sea. 'I will
destroy you! I will kill every man of you, and damn your
souls to hell!'

From the gundeck, Richard Abey's cry:

'Larboard battery, on the lift ...
fire, fire, fire
!'

B-BOOM B-BOOM B-BOOM B-BOOM B-BOOM

Flame, and flaming wad, shuddering timbers, boiling
smoke. Rennie, who had quite unconsciously drawn his
sword, and now held it pointed at the French frigate, saw
with a surge of pure malevolent joy the effect of that double-shotted
broadside. The whole of the frigate's larboard side
took terrible damage, and the mizzenmast was shot away
in a great collapsing crumple of canvas and yards. The
quarterlights at her stern were punched in with an explosion
of glass, and the small boat in the stern davits was torn
loose and smashed, the remnants hanging down and trailing
in the sea. And clearly across the water, high and thin, as
Richard Abey yelled:

'Re-lo-o-o-o-o-oad!'
came a single terrible shriek, repeated over and over, of a
man in transports of agony.

'Aye,
suffer
, you blackguard.' Rennie, savagely. 'All of ye
will suffer, presently.'

As the frigate swung away crippled, the corvette
now came at
Expedient
, and Rennie had to admire her
commander's sheer, crazy courage. She came directly across
Expedient
's bow out of the smoke, her starboard side
absolutely exposed, to give herself the maximum broadside
opportunity. Flashes, and near instantaneous thuds, as
her six-pounders were fired point-blank. Her guns were
well aimed. Rennie stood rooted to the deck as he saw
a roundshot rocket toward him the length of the ship, a
black increasing ball that seemed to come direct at his
head. He could not duck down, he could not even jerk
his head to one side, so swift did it fly at him. He felt a
terrible blow, and it was as if the skin of his face was sucked
from his jaws and plucked up from round his eyes and
ears, and then he felt nothing more.

Bernard Loftus saw his captain fall to the deck, and feared
the worst.

'Captain!' Running forrard.

A spar fell in his path, and he was entangled in torn
canvas. He wrenched and thrust, and fought his way clear,
and ran to Rennie's side.

'Captain, sir!'

From the gundeck, as the corvette heeled far across to
starboard of
Expedient
, and began to turn north:

'Starboard battery – point your guns! On the lift ...
fire,
fire, fire
!'

And as he knelt by Rennie, Bernard Loftus felt the thudding,
quivering shocks of
Expedient
's great guns. Rennie did
not move, he did not blink, but lay on his side staring at
nothing, his hat gone and his sparse hair standing up in
wisps on his head.