Artemis - Kydd 02 by Julian Stockwin Read Free Book Online Page B

looked out on a scene that he knew would stay with him all his life.
    A gun went off below him. It startled him: they had no reason to salute. Then a seaman pointed out the colourful standard hoisted on the dockyard signal tower. "Is Nibs,' he said laconically.
    The salute banged on - the full twenty-one for the King of England. They were now passing through the close entrance. They glided past the rickety old buildings of Portsmouth Point close in to starboard, every window full of cheering figures. On the opposite side of the entrance was the darkened brick solidity of Fort Blockhouse, and beyond it Haslar naval hospital. As many wounded and sick sailors that were able to had hobbled down to the water's edge, and a military band thumped out 'Hearts of Oak'.
    On they sailed, past the low white medieval turrets of the gun wharf, then where the harbour inside widened again, to Portsmouth Hard with its taverns and hostelries alive with crowds. Two men-o'-war moored mid-stream had manned ship. Hundreds of men lined along bare masts and yards gave full-throated cheers to the now famous frigate.
    Abru ptly they were upon the long dockyard buildings. There was a flurry of activity as Artemis swung about into the wind and slowed. Her sails were brailed up and lines were relayed ashore by waiting boats and they were warped in alongside the dock.
    Aware of the official welcoming party on the quay, Kydd felt uneasy and self-conscious, on the one hand wishing that the assembly of pomp and finery could be somewhere else, and on the other seized with a thrill of expectation.
    With her sails in a harbour stow and the running rigging secured and flemished down, a special gangway was positioned from the quarterdeck to the dock. It had white canvas-covered rope hand-lines, and on each supporting post there was a small royal crest.
    'Into line, Kydd!' The harsh whisper from the Master-at-Arms caught him by surprise. 'Sideboy!' the man snapped, seeing that Kydd did not react immediately. He was pushed into a double line of men at the head of the gangway after the boatswain's mates. At the inner end of the line the Captain and officers waited, their tension evident. On the wharf a similar line of redcoats formed facing each other with muskets rigidly at the present.
    'Stand by!' snapped Rowley, the officer-of-the-watch. The boatswain's mates whipped up their silver calls to the ready. There was silence throughout the ship. The noises of celebration outside the dockyard gates sounded even rowdier.
    'Pipe!' Rowley rapped. The calls blasted out together and Kydd's eyes slid to the small group who slowly mounted the gangway. In the lead was King George and behind him, the Queen.
    When the monarch reached the deck the piping ceased. No one moved a muscle. Genially, King George looked about him, not more than a few feet from Kydd. He paced forward a step or two, glancing around with interest, then turned to his aide-de-camp. 'Soon took the gloss off the sides of the Frenchy, showed him the way into Portsmouth Harbour, hey - hey?' His large rubicund face lit up.
    'Indeed so, sire.'
    The kindly eyes turned to Kydd.
    A voice from behind murmured, 'Thomas Kydd, foretop-man, sir.'
    The King nodded. 'Where are ye from?'
    Kydd's heart stopped. 'Guildford town — er, Y'r Majesty,' he said, touching his forehead automatically in a naval salute. Too late he realised that kings would probably expect something more in the way of a bow.
    The broad wh ite eyebrows rose. 'Fine place fo r turnips, very fine! An' sheep too - prime shee p, y'r Surrey cross’ He looked at Kydd somewhat bemused, as if finding it hard to reconcile farming talk with the strong young sailor before him.
    Before Kydd's frozen brain could think of a reply, his sovereign had moved on to address others, but Kydd was content simply to stare ahead, suffused with happiness. Nobody at all in his acquaintance, high and low, had ever claimed an introduction to the King himself!
    There was a murmuring