He said, “As you have seen, gentlemen, the bay at Djafou is like a deep pocket. The eastern side is protected by this headland.” He tapped the chart with his dividers. “It is like a curved beak and affords good protection to ships at anchor inside the bay.” He watched their faces as they craned forward to see it better. Their expressions were as mixed as their characters.

Furneaux, looking down his nose disdainfully, as if he already knew all the answers. Falcon of the Tanais, his hooded eyes thoughtful but giving very little away, and Rattray, with his bulldog face set in a grim frown of fierce concentration. He most of all seemed to find it difficult to visualise a plan of battle when set down on paper. Once in action, he would trust to his unyielding stubbornness, facing what he could see with his own eyes until he was a victor or a corpse.

The two younger captains, Gillmor, and Poate of the sloop Restless, were less reserved, and Bolitho had seen them jotting down notes from the beginning of the conference. They alone would be unhampered by the line of battle, could patrol or dash in to attack whenever their sense of timing and initiative dictated. They had all the independence which Bolitho so dearly envied, and missed.

“In the centre of the approach is the castle.” He was already seeing it in his mind as he had constructed it from Draffen’s memory and newly acquired reports. “Built many years ago by the Moors, it is nevertheless very strong and well protected with artillery. It was constructed on a small rocky island, but has since been connected to the western side of the bay by a causeway.” Draffen had told him briefly that the work had been done by slaves. Then, as now, he wondered just how many had died in pain and misery before seeing its completion. “There is said to be a Spanish garrison of about two hundred, also a few native scouts. Not a great force, but one well able to withstand a normal frontal assault.”

Rattray cleared his throat noisily. “We could surely tack straight into the bay. There would be some damage from the fort’s battery, but with this prevailing nor’ westerly we’d be through and inside before the Dons could do more’n mark us.”

Bolitho looked at him impassively. “There is only one deep channel and it lies close to the fort. Well within a cable at one place. If a ship was put down by the battery in the first attack, the rest of us would be unable to enter. If it was the last in the line, none of us would get out again.”

Rattray scowled. “Seems a damn stupid way to build a fortified harbour, if you ask me, sir.”

Captain Falcon smiled gently. “I suspect there has not been much cause to welcome large vessels in the past, Rattray.”

Draffen spoke for the first time. “That is true. Before the Spaniards seized the port as their own it was constantly changing hands amongst local leaders. It was used by small coastal shipping.” He looked calmly at Bolitho. “And chebecks.”