“Get our own men and form a single gun crew. I want the best cannon taken to the stern cabin. You will have to work fast to rig tackles for it, but it must be done. These craft will be within range in an hour. Maybe less.” He touched the lieutenant’s torn coat and added, “And run up the colours again, Mr Meheux.” He saw Witrand open his mouth as if to protest and then turn away to the rail. He added, “If we must fight, then it will be under our flag!”

Allday watched the flag jerking up the halliards and observed cheerfully, “I’ll lay a fine wager that those bloody pirates have never seen a King’s ship like this lady afore.”

Bolitho looked at Pareja. “And now, señor, come with me. Together we will try and make some naval history today, eh?”

But as he looked down at all the upturned faces, the women pulling their children against their dresses, the air of despondency and growing fear, it was all he could do to conceal his true feelings from them.

10

SURVIVAL

“NOT LONG now, sir.” Grindle tucked his thumbs into his belt and watched the oncoming craft without emotion.

In the last thirty minutes they had formed into line, the manoeuvre completed without hurry or effort, as if they had all the time in the world.

Now, curving steadily towards the Navarra’s larboard quarter, they looked like some historic procession or oared galleys, an impression increased by the dull booming of drums, the latter essential if the men toiling at the long oars were to keep perfect timing.

The leading chebeck was about a mile away, but already Bolitho could see the cluster of dark-skinned figures gathered above her long beak head, and guessed they were preparing the bow gun for the first attack. The sails, as on the other craft, had been furled, and he could see a blue forked burgee flapping from her foremast displaying the emblem of the crescent moon.

He tore his eyes from the slow, purposeful approach and said to Grindle, “I am going below for a moment. Keep an eye open here until I return.”

As he hurried beneath the poop he tried to concentrate his thoughts on what he had done so far, to find any loophole in his flimsy plan of defence. When Pareja had interpreted his orders he had watched the faces of crew and passengers alike. To them, any plan would seem better than standing like dumb beasts for the slaughter. But now, as they crouched throughout the hull and listened to those steady, confident drumbeats, that first hope might soon disperse in panic.

If only they had had more time. But Euryalus’s broadside had left the ship in too sad a state for quick repairs. She was down by the bows, and even if a wind got up she would sail badly without her mizzen. It had been necessary to rid the poop of its guns in order to lighten her aft where the damage had been worst. But the thought of the guns lying on the sea bed at a time when they were really needed did nothing to help ease his mind.