Free Honour This Day by Alexander Kent

Imrie’s lanky shape by a poop ladder.
    â€œI would imagine that the Lady Belinda is displeased about your zest for duty so soon after your recent victory?” He smiled wryly, then walked to the entry port without another glance.
    Bolitho watched the smart launch being pulled away from Hyperion ’s shadow and pondered what they had discussed; more, what they had left unsaid.
    The reference to Belinda, for instance. What had Somervell expected to incite? Or was it merely something he could not restrain when neither of them had once mentioned Catherine?
    Bolitho looked at the nearest anchored brig, the Upholder. Very like Adam’s command, he thought.
    Haven moved nearer and touched his hat. “Any orders, Sir Richard?”
    Bolitho pulled out his watch and snapped open the guard. Exactly noon, yet it felt like no time since he had left to visit Thor.
    â€œThank you, Captain Haven.” Their eyes met, and Bolitho could feel the other man’s reserve, a wariness which was almost physical. “I shall require all our captains on board at the close of the afternoon watch. Bring them aft to my quarters.”
    Haven swallowed. “The rest of our vessels are still at sea, sir.”
    Bolitho glanced round, but the guard was dismissed, and only a few idlers and the master’s mate of the watch were nearby.
    He said, “I intend to up-anchor within the week, as soon as there is wind enough to fill our canvas. We shall sail southwest to the Main and stand off La Guaira.”
    Haven had ruddy, sunburned cheeks which matched his hair, but they seemed to pale. “That’s six hundred miles, sir! In this ship, without support, I’m not certain—”
    Bolitho lowered his face and said, “Have you no stomach for it, man? Or are you seeking an early retirement?” He hated himself, knowing that Haven could not hit back.
    He added simply, “I need you, and so does this ship. It has to be enough.” He turned away, despairing at what he saw in Haven’s eyes.
    He noticed Imrie and called, “Come with me, I wish to pick your brains.”
    Bolitho winced as a shaft of sunlight lanced down through the mizzen shrouds. For just those few seconds his eye was completely blind, and it was all he could do not to cry out.
    A death-wish, Somervell had said. Bolitho groped into the poop’s shadows and felt the bitterness coursing through him. Too many had died because of him, and even his friends were damaged by his touch.
    Imrie ducked his head beneath the poop and walked beside him into the gloom between decks.
    â€œI have been thinking, Sir Richard, and I’ve a few ideas—”
    He had not seen the dismay on his admiral’s face, nor could he guess how his simple remarks were like a lifeline for him.
    Bolitho said, “Then we shall quench our thirst while I listen.”
    Haven watched them leave the quarterdeck and called for the signals midshipman. He told the boy the nature and time of the signal for the other captains to repair on board, then turned as the first lieutenant hurried towards him.
    Before the lieutenant could speak Haven rasped, “Do I have to perform your duties too, damn you?” He strode away adding, “By God, if you cannot do better, I’ll see you cast ashore for good!”
    Parris stared after him, only his tightly bunched fists giving a hint of his anger and resentment.
    â€œAnd God damn you too!” He saw the midshipman staring owlishly at him and wondered if he had spoken aloud. He grinned wearily. “It’s a fine life, Mr Mirrielees, provided you hold your tongue!”
    At eight bells that afternoon, the signal was run up to the yard. It was begun.

4 S TORM WARNING
    B OLITHO stood in the centre of the deserted boatshed and allowed his eyes to grow accustomed to its shapes and shadows. It was a great, ramshackle building, lit by just a few guttering lanterns which swayed on long chains to reduce the risk