Sea of Treason: Thomas Kydd 26 by Stockwin Julian

Author:Stockwin, Julian
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton
Published: 2023-10-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 47

Thunderer, at sea

The beat across the Atlantic was unremarkable under the steady urging of the south-westerlies and a greying of the seas as the spiteful autumn weather of the British Isles set in. Kydd was robbed of Persephone’s company by the immediate nature of his recall. Required to stay to see to the finalising of the lease of Monte Rosa, and disposal of domestic effects, she would follow later.

Over on the beam, plunging and rising, was Weazel. Kydd had given Bowden the opportunity to be escort over the nondescript five-ship convoy to England. He’d be shepherding them into Falmouth while Kydd went on to Portsmouth to discover why he’d been so abruptly ordered back.

The Lizard hove into view, after a long overseas voyage its welcome sight half hidden behind rain-squalls, a smother of white at its foot where Atlantic rollers found land at last.

After Bermuda the cold bluster was a shock and Kydd shuddered at the chill of the winds across the quarterdeck, but many of the ship’s company had found duties that required them to be up on deck within sight of their native land.

There were scores of sail, a token of the unbreakable river of trade that was the source of England’s strength.

On the other side of the peninsula a frigate of the Channel Squadron had the effrontery to throw out the challenge to Thunderer, quickly answered with the correct response.

Weazel parted company, taking her convoy into Fal-mouth, and the same brisk south-westerly saw Thunderer making good time to their final destination and anchorage, Portsmouth.

Until he’d made his number with the port admiral and claimed his orders, anything was possible, including a stern instruction to proceed immediately to strengthen the blockade squadrons off the French coast. This would imply no liberty ashore and also the hard work to victual and water first and would be unpopular.

Thunderer took in sail, the anchor plunged into the muddy grey waters and the big ship found her rest.

‘Hands to priddy decks, no liberty for now,’ Kydd told Roscoe, and without delay took his barge into the Signal Station landing, hurrying up the weed-slimed steps.

The port admiral, an officer Kydd did not know, was nevertheless effusive in his greeting and he wondered why.

‘Your orders, Sir Thomas,’ he said warmly, handing over a thin pack. ‘Do you desire the privacy of my office to acquaint yourself of their contents?’

Even more unusual. ‘Thank you, sir. That would be kind in you.’ Was this so that the man would learn what they contained?

The orders were in the usual sealed packet, the Admiralty cipher in plain view. He broke the seal.

Behind the time-honoured verbiage was a simple direction. As of this date he was to assume the responsibility and dignity of the rank of commodore of the second class, to hold himself ready for a particular service that would be advised in due course.

Commodore! He’d been in the rank before, in the Adriatic, but that had been more or less an artifice to allow him to command a flotilla of frigates.

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