A Tradition of Victory by Alexander Kent

Author:Alexander Kent [Kent, Alexander]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: C429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 9780099497677
Publisher: Random House UK
Published: 2006-07-24T14:30:00+00:00

He said wearily, “Fetch the old sea-going one, Ozzard. I don’t feel like celebrating.”

Allday stared at Herrick in disbelief. “You’ve not told him, sir?”

“Told me what?” He needed to be alone. To sift his feelings, decide what to do, discover where he had gone wrong.

Herrick looked almost as astonished as Allday. “Damn my eyes, in all the excitement I forgot to explain!”

Bolitho listened without a word, as if by inserting a question, A TRADI T ION OF V ICTORY

161

or by trying to smooth out the ridges in Herrick’s tale, he might destroy it completely.

As Herrick lapsed into silence he said, “And she is in the convoy, Thomas? Right here, amongst us?”

Herrick stammered, “Aye, sir. I was that worried, you see—”

Bolitho stood up and took Herrick’s hard hands in his “Bless you, old friend. This morning I believed I had taken enough, more than I could safely hold. But now . . .” He shook his head slowly.

“You have told me something which is stronger than any balm.”

He turned away, as if he expected to see the other ships through the stern windows. Belinda had taken passage to Gibraltar.

Danger and discomfort had meant nothing, his likely fate had not shaken her confidence for an instant. And now she was here in the Bay.

Herrick moved towards the door, content and troubled at the same time.

“I’ll leave you. It will be a while before we exchange signals.”

He hesitated, unwilling to cast a shadow on the moment. “About Captain Neale . . .”

“We’ll bury him at dusk. His friends and family in England will have their memories of him. As he once was. But I think he’d wish to stay with his men.”

The door closed silently, and Bolitho lay back again and allowed the sun to warm him through the thick glass.

Neale had known from the beginning he was going to die.

Only his occasional bouts of delirium had deceived the rest of them. One thought, one force had kept him going, and that had been freedom. To gain it in company of his friends so that he could die in peace had been paramount. It was all I wanted, he had said. His last words on earth.

Bolitho found he was on his feet without noticing he had moved. He did not even see Browne enter the cabin, or Allday’s sudden concern.

162

A TRADI T ION OF V ICTORY

John Neale was gone. He would not die unavenged.

Barely making a ripple above her own black and buff reflection, Benbow moved slowly past other anchored vessels, all of which were dwarfed by the towering natural fortress of Gibraltar.

It was morning, with the Rock and surrounding landscape partly hidden in mist, a foretaste of the heat to come.

Bolitho stood apart from the other officers and left Herrick free to manœuvre his command the last cable or so to the anchorage. With all canvas but topsails and jib clewed up, Benbow would make a fine sight as she altered course very slightly away from her convoy, the largest vessel of which was already making signals to the shore.

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