In the King’s Name by Alexander Kent

Author:Alexander Kent [Kent, Alexander]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Novela, Bélico, Histórico
Publisher: ePubLibre
Published: 2011-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Adam Bolitho shifted slightly on the hot thwart to gaze at the full expanse of the anchorage as the gig pulled past the headland. Plenty of eyes must have observed Onward‘s slow and cautious approach; he had seen sunlight blinking from telescopes ashore and afloat most of the way.

A longboat had come out to meet them, perhaps surprised that Onward did not anchor closer to the shore, with its scattering of buildings and long, ungainly pier. The boat had signalled for them to follow, a uniformed figure standing to wave aside any dugout that hovered too closely.

The main fortification was timber-built, with a stockade and a battery of small cannon. In stark contrast, the flag that flew above them, making a brilliant splash of colour, was the same as the one hoisted at Onward‘s own jackstaff when her anchor had been secured. Maybe Freetown had begun like this, and other footholds in wilderness that Rear-Admiral Langley would dismiss as the encroachment of empire.

Jago said, “ ‘E’s turnin’, Cap’n.”

The other boat was losing way, its oars in confusion. The man in uniform was on his feet again, bowing and baring his teeth in a grin. At one end of the pier were more uniforms, and bare-backed figures who were apparently repairing the lower structure close to the water.

Adam said, “You must stay in the boat this time, I’m afraid.” He glanced along the slow-moving looms, at the faces he knew so well. “I’ll send word if I’m delayed.”

He felt the body beside him stir suddenly; he had almost forgotten that Monteith was aboard. Tense, his sword gripped between his knees, still going over the events at the mission. Doubts, fears, it was not possible to tell. Yet.

Jago called, “Oars!” He may have glanced at Monteith, but he did not wait. Monteith was, after all, in charge of the gig for this formal visit. When he had been piped over the side, one of the duty watch had slipped and allowed a coil of rope to fall across the gangway. At any other time Monteith would have yelled at him, and for far less.

Whatever it was, it must have happened ashore. Squire had said nothing, and Jago would keep it to himself as usual. Unless …

The oars were inboard, the bowmen hooked onto the pier. Another uniformed figure was peering down at them, head and shoulders silhouetted against the sky.

Adam stood up and reached for the thick envelope, the reason for this visit.

He looked at Jago. “Remember what we talked about, eh?” and Jago’s tanned face broke into a grin.

“Ol’ John Allday would never forgive me, Cap’n!”

Some of the bare-backed men on the lower pier had stopped work to look down at the gig and the newcomers. There was a shout, and the sharp crack of a whip. The onlookers vanished.

Adam glanced at Monteith, who had not moved. “Ready?” He did not wait for an answer. Monteith was probably recalling their talk. Leadership by example. He stared up at the pier, angry with himself.

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