Passage to Mutiny (17 page)

“You get too soft in England! Out here it is a man's country. Ripe for the taking, like a good woman, eh?” He laughed at Raymond's prim stare. “You'll see!”

Two native girls padded softly across the rush mats and arranged glasses and jugs on a stout table.

Bolitho watched Hardacre ladling colourless liquid into the glasses. It was probably like fire-water, he thought, although Hard-acre seemed willing enough to drink it, too.

“Well, gentlemen, welcome to the Levu Islands.”

Bolitho gripped the arm of his chair and tried to stop his eyes from watering.

Hardacre's ladle swept over him and refilled his glass. “Damn good, eh?”

Bolitho waited for his throat to respond. “Strong.”

Raymond put down his glass. “My instructions are to take overall control of these and other surrounding islands not yet under common claim by another nation.” He was speaking quickly as if afraid Hardacre might fly into a rage. “I have full instructions for you also. From London.”

“From London.” Hardacre watched him, swilling the drink around his glass. “And what does
London
think you can do which I cannot, pray?”

Raymond hesitated. “Various aspects are unsatisfactory, and, besides, you do not have the forces at your disposal to support the King's peace.”

“Rubbish!” Hardacre turned towards a window. “I could raise an army if I so wanted. Every man a warrior. Each one ready to obey
me.
”

Bolitho watched him, seeing his anxiety which he was trying to hide, and his obvious pride in what he had achieved on his own.

Hardacre swung towards him violently. “Bolitho! Of course, I recall it now. Your brother. During the war.” He sighed. “That war made many a difference to a lot of folk, and that's true enough.”

Bolitho said nothing, watching Hardacre's eyes remembering, knowing that Raymond was listening, hoping for his discomfort.

The great bearded figure turned back to the window. “Yes, I was a farmer then. Lost everything because I was a King's man when we had to take sides. So I pulled up my roots and set to work out here.” He added bitterly, “Now it seems it is the King who wishes to rob me this time!”

“Nonsense.” Raymond swallowed his drink and gasped. “It will not be like that. You may still be needed. I must first—”

Hardacre interrupted, “You'll first listen to me.” He flung aside the plaited screen and pointed at the dark green trees. “I need trained men to help me, or those I can instruct before I get too old. I don't want officials like those in Sydney or London, nor, with all respect, Captain, do I need uniforms and naval discipline.”

Bolitho said calmly, “Your discipline appears somewhat harsher than ours.”

“Oh that.” Hardacre shrugged. “Justice has to be matched against the surroundings. It is the way of things here.”

“
Your
way.” Bolitho kept his voice level.

Hardacre looked at him steadily and then smiled. “Yes. If you'll have it so.”

He continued gruffly, “You've seen what can happen in the islands, Captain. The people are simple, untouched, laid open for every pox and disease which a ship can drop amongst them. If they are to prosper and survive they must protect themselves and not rely on others.”

“Impossible.” Raymond was getting angry. “The
Eurotas
was captured, and retaken by the
Tempest.
Every day we're hearing worse news about marauding pirates and murderers, and even the French are disturbed enough to have sent a frigate.”

“The
Narval.
” Hardacre shrugged. “Oh yes, Mister Raymond, I have my ways of learning news, too.”

“Indeed. Well, you'll not seek out and destroy these pirates with a trading schooner and a handful of painted savages!” Raymond glared at him hotly. “I intend to make it my first task. After that, we will talk about trade. My men will begin landing convicts tomorrow, and clear more land near the settlement where huts can be built for them.” He sounded triumphant. “So perhaps you can begin with
that,
Mr Hardacre?”

Hardacre eyed him flatly. “Very well. But your wife, I trust you'll not detain her here longer than necessary?”

“Your concern moves me.”

Hardacre said quietly, “Please do not use sarcasm on me. And let me tell you that white women, especially those of gentle birth, are no match for our islands.”

“Don't your people have wives?”

Hardacre looked away. “Local girls.”

Raymond looked at the two who were standing near the table. Very young, very demure. Bolitho could almost see his mind working.

Hardacre said bluntly, “Two girls of good family. Their father is a chief. A fine man.”

“Hmm.” Raymond pulled out his watch, the sweat running off his face like rain. “Have someone show me my quarters. I must have time to think.”

Later, when Bolitho was alone with him, Hardacre said, “Your Mr Raymond is a fool. He knows nothing of this place. Nor will he want to learn.”

Bolitho said, “What of the French frigate? Where did you see her?”

“So you had it in your mind to ask, eh? Like a teazel in the brain.” Hardacre smiled. “Traders bring me information. Barter and mutual trust is our best protection. Oh yes, I have heard about
Narval
and her mad captain, just as I know about the pirate, Mathias Tuke. He is often lying off these islands with his cursed schooners. So far he has thought twice about trying to plunder the settlement, damn his eyes!” He looked at Bolitho. “But your frigate will be outwitted, my friend. You need small craft and strong legs, and guides who can take you to this man's hiding places, and he has several.”

“Could you discover them for me?”

“I think not, Captain. We have survived this far without open war.”

Bolitho thought of the
Eurotas,
the superb planning which had gone into her capture. That and the ruthless cruelty to back it would be more than a match for Lieutenant Finney's militia.

Hardacre seemed to read his mind. “I brought stability to the islands. Before I came the chiefs had fought each other for generations. Stolen women, taken heads, adopted barbarous customs which even now make me breathe a little faster to think of them. You are a sailor. You know these things. But I made them look to
me,
forced them to trust me, and from that small beginning I founded the first peace they had enjoyed.
Ever.
So if someone breaks it, he or they must be punished. Instantly. Finally. It is the only way. And if I began to use their trust to cause havoc amongst them, by allowing you or the Frenchman's cannon to smash down their primitive world, these islands would revert to blood and hate.”

Bolitho thought of the laughing, supple girls, the sense of freedom and simplicity. Like the shadow of a reef, it was hiding what lay just below the surface.

Hardacre remarked absently, “You know of course that
Narval'
s captain is more concerned with recapturing a prisoner of France than he is in killing Tuke.” He nodded. “I see from your face you had already thought as much. You should grow a beard, Captain, to hide your feelings!”

“What you were saying earlier about white women.”

Hardacre chuckled. “That too you could not hide. The lady means something to you, eh?” He held up his hand. “Say nothing. I have severed myself from such problems. But if you want her to continue in health, I suggest you send her back to England.” He smiled. “Where she belongs.”

There was a commotion of voices and hurrying feet in the yard below the window, and moments later Herrick, with Lieutenant Finney panting in his wake, strode into the room.

Herrick said, “The guard boat found a small outrigger canoe, sir.” He ignored Hardacre and his officer. “There was a young native aboard. Bleeding badly. The surgeon says he is lucky to be alive.” He glanced at Hardacre for the first time. “It would appear, sir, that North Island in this group was attacked by Tuke and two schooners, and is now in their hands. This young lad managed to escape because he knew of the canoe. Tuke burned all the other boats when he attacked.”

Hardacre clasped his big hands together as if in prayer. “God, their boats are their living!” He turned to Herrick. “And
you
are?”

Herrick regarded him coldly. “First lieutenant, His Britannic Majesty's Ship
Tempest.
”

Bolitho said quietly, “So it seems you do need us after all.”

“North Island is the hardest to defend, its chief the least willing to learn from past mistakes.” Hardacre was thinking aloud. “But I know how to seek him out.” He looked at Finney. “Muster the men, and take them to the schooner. I will leave immediately.”

Bolitho said gently, “No, you will stay here.
I
will take the schooner in company with my command, and with your permission some of your men and a few reliable guides.” He added, “You will serve your islanders the better if you stay here.” He saw his words sink in.

Hardacre nodded his massive head. “Raymond, you mean.” He frowned. “No matter. I understand, even if you cannot say it.”

Bolitho said to Herrick, “Recall the shore parties, Thomas. News travels fast in the islands apparently. We must travel faster. The wind is still with us, so we shall clear the anchorage and reefs before dusk.”

Herrick nodded, absorbed in the only world he understood and respected. “Aye, sir, Lady Luck permitting.”

He hurried away, and Bolitho heard him shouting for his boat's crew.

“A resourceful lieutenant, Captain.” Hardacre watched him grimly. “I could use him here.”

“Use Thomas Herrick?” Bolitho picked up his sword. “I've not seen any man, including his captain, do that as yet!”

He strode from the room, leaving the bearded giant and the two silent girls to their thoughts.

Then he stopped dead as he heard her voice.
“Richard!”

He turned, holding her against him as she ran down the narrow wooden stairs. She felt hot and shaking through her gown, and her eyes were desperate as she asked, “Are you leaving? When will you return?”

He held her tenderly, putting aside the mounting demands and questions which only he could answer.

“There has been an attack. Tuke.” He felt her shoulders go rigid. “I may be able to run him to ground.” In the courtyard he heard Finney bawling orders, the clatter of boots and muskets. “The sooner I can do it, the quicker you will be free of this place.”

She studied him, stroking his face with her hand as if trying to mould it in her memory.

“Just be careful, Richard. All the time. For me. For us.”

He guided her back into the shade and walked into the harsh glare again.

Raymond was already in the courtyard, he must have run from his room to find what was happening for himself.

He snapped, “You
were
going to tell me, Captain?”

Bolitho looked at him gravely. “Yes.”

He touched his hat, the movement needing all his self-control. “Now, sir, if I may go to my ship?” He turned away, seeing the brief twist of her gown on a stairway above the yard as she watched him leave.

Allday already had the gig prepared, the crew ready.

Bolitho sat in the boat and tried to think clearly as the oars churned the water alive. Tuke, de Barras, Raymond, they all seemed to revolve and blend into one enemy. A last barrier between him and Viola.

Borlase met him at the entry port.

“I have reported back to duty, sir.”

“So I see.”

Bolitho looked past him at the mingled brown figures of the islanders, the familiar ones of his own seamen and marines.

“Clear the ship, Mr Borlase. Then let me know when the schooner is ready to make sail.” He saw the confusion in his eyes. “Come along! Let us not be all day!”

Herrick came hurrying towards him. “I am sorry I was not here to greet you, sir. You must have the wind under your gig!”

Bolitho nodded vaguely. “I'll want you to take command of the schooner, Thomas. Use the native crew and Hardacre's militia. But take Prideaux and twenty marines.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “
Action,
Thomas. What a way to begin the New Year, eh?”

Herrick stared at him as if he had gone mad. Then he nodded. “Of course, sir. Tomorrow is the first day of seventeen hundred and ninety. I have been checking the log on each and every day and had forgotten all about it.” He strode towards the quarterdeck ladder calling for the boatswain.

Aft by the taffrail Bolitho paused to collect his thoughts into some semblance of order. Another year. He had hoped it might be different. The beautiful surroundings and quiet shore made it harder still to accept that she was here also, and denied him. He sighed deeply. And tomorrow, because circumstances insisted, they might be fighting for their lives yet again.