Broughton snapped, “I agree.”
Bolitho turned away. Without effort he could see the yelling figures swarming across the Navarra’s bloodied decks, the terror on the crew’s faces when the chebecks had been sighted. And now Broughton was about to take such people as allies, merely because he could not accept the prospect of returning empty-handed to Gibraltar.
He said, “I am against it.”
Broughton sat down heavily. “I have great respect for your past record, Bolitho. I know you to be a loyal officer, but I also realise you are often plagued by too much idealism. There is no officer in the squadron I would rather have as my flag captain.” His tone hardened. “But I will suffer no insubordination. And if necessary I will have you removed.”
Bolitho felt the sense of helplessness returning, the contest of desires pulling at him like claws. He wanted to throw the words back in Broughton’s face, yet could not endure the prospect of Furneaux in control of the squadron’s small resources.
He heard himself say tightly, “It is my duty to advise you, sir, as well as obey orders.”
Draffen beamed. “There you are, gentlemen! We are agreed at last!”
Bolitho looked at him bitterly. “What do you intend?”
“With Sir Lucius’s permission I will make use of the sloop again. I have no doubt my agent will be expecting some sort of news from me, so the rest should be made easier for us.” He looked shrewdly at Bolitho’s grave features. “As you have said yourself, the squadron is better fitted for fighting in open waters than exposing itself to unnecessary risk inshore. I will need no more than two days, and by that time we should be ready for a final and conclusive assault.” He smiled, and Bolitho saw a new light in his eyes. For a few seconds his expression was one of complete cruelty. “A flag of truce to the garrison, an explanation of what will assuredly happen if Messadi’s men take the fortress, to the defenders and their womenfolk . . .” He said no more.
Broughton muttered, “For God’s sake, Sir Hugo, it won’t come to that surely?”
“Of course not, Sir Lucius.” Draffen was openly cheerful again.
Broughton seemed suddenly eager to finish the conference. “Signal the Restless, Bolitho. Coquette can take over watch on the bay.”
As he left the cabin Draffen followed him, his voice almost gentle as he murmured, “Do not take it so seriously, Captain. I have never doubted your qualities as a sea officer. So you must trust my ability in these matters, eh?”
Bolitho paused and looked at him. “If you mean I am no match for your politics, Sir Hugo, then you are right I want no part of them, ever!”
Draffen’s face hardened. “Do not overreach yourself, my friend. You may attain high command in the Navy one day, provided . . .” The word hung in the air.
“Provided I hold my tongue?”
Draffen swung towards him angrily. “You, of all people, can hardly afford the re-telling of your past if you wish to better yourself! Do not forget, I knew your brother. There are some in high places who might reconsider any officer’s chances of advancement once they were reminded of some flaw in his family background, so watch your manners, Captain!”