“That is all for the present, gentlemen. Lieutenant Calvert will give each of you his written orders. We will proceed to Djafou without further delay and cross the bay tomorrow morning.”

Broughton stood up and studied all of them coldly. “You have heard my intentions, gentlemen. You know my methods. I will expect all signals to be kept to a minimum. The squadron will attack from east to west and take full advantage of the sun being in the enemy’s eyes. Bombardment from the sea and a combined land assault from both directions at once should suffice.” He paused and added quietly, “If not, we will attack again and again until we have succeeded. That is all.” He turned and walked from the cabin without another word.

As the other captains paid their respects and then hurried away to summon their barges, Bolitho saw Draffen peering down at the chart and frowning.

The door closed behind the last captain. Draffen said heavily, “I hope to God the wind drops. It might at least stop Sir Lucius from carrying out the attack.”

Bolitho stared at him. “I thought you were as keen as anyone to see Djafou fall, sir?”

Draffen grimaced. “Things have changed now. We need allies, Bolitho. In war we cannot be too choosy about our bedfellows.”

The door opened and Bolitho saw Keverne watching him. Waiting for orders, or with a fresh list of demands and needs for the ship and the squadron.

He asked slowly, “Are there such allies?”

Draffen folded his arms and met his gaze. “I am certain of it. I still hold some influence out here. But they respect only strength. To see this squadron beaten in its first battle with the Spanish garrison will do nothing to bolster our prestige.” He waved one hand across the chart. “These people live by the sword. Strength is their only unity, their one true god. Our need of Djafou is a temporary thing, something to sustain our cause until we have reentered the Mediterranean in real strength. When that happens it will be forgotten, a miserable, barren hole as it was before. But not to those who have to continue an existence there. To them Djafou is the past and the future. It is all they have.”

Then he smiled and walked towards the door. “I will see you tomorrow. But now I have work to do.”

Bolitho turned away. It was strange how different Djafou had been made to appear by two men. Broughton and Draffen. To the admiral it was an obstacle. One hindrance in his overall strategy of command. To Draffen it seemed to represent something else entirely. Part of his life perhaps. Or of himself.

Keverne said, “All captains have returned to their ships, sir.” If he was feeling any anxiety he was not showing it. One day perhaps he would be in a position to worry like Broughton. But now he had to do his duty and nothing more. Maybe it was better that way.