Tenacious by Julian Stockwin Read Free Book Online

touched the chart to the east. “If, on the other hand, General Buonaparte is considering an adventure to Constantinople he will find he is trapped. The waters are shoal and there is but the one entrance, the Dardanelles. There he will find us waiting, and he will see that it will bring the Turks into close alliance. And

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    if they are further east, to the Levant perhaps, the Red Sea, we shall fall on their lines of supply.”
    He straightened painfully, his face grim and set. “But all is vaporous posturing until we have met their fleet and disposed of it. While it exists, the Mediterranean is a French lake. All our striving must be to entice it to sea and bring it to battle. That, gentlemen, is our entire strategy. Questions?”
    The heightened feeling was almost palpable. Bryant asked boldly, “What will be our force, sir?”
    “ Vanguard, yourselves, Orion and Alexander, with three frigates. Too big to discourage from looking where we please, too small to think we engage. Big enough to lure ’em out,” Nelson snapped, and waited for another question.
    “Signals, sir. We haven’t yet the new instructions,” Kydd found himself saying. The others frowned, but he was concerned that he did not yet have a signal book ready for any major fleet action in prospect.
    “Neither will you,” Nelson said briefly. “You are in a detached squadron of Sir John’s fleet off Cadíz. His signals therefore will still apply.” He then turned to Kydd and smiled grimly. “And if any ship of the enemy lie ahead, why, our duty is plain and no signal required.”
    There was a stirring among the officers. These were not the highly planned, intricate tactics of a fleet in line-of-battle: service under this admiral promised to be a time each would remember.
    After the men had finished their grog and noon meal the officers sat down to dinner. The wardroom was alive with only one topic.
    “A proud man, but conceited,” Bampton said firmly. “Vanity does not a leader make, in my opinion.”
    “Oh, so you have personal knowledge of our famed commander?” There was an edge to Adams’s voice.

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    “Not directly. But I have heard—”
    “Let the man’s actions speak for ’emselves, I say!” boomed Bryant.
    Bampton came in instantly: “They have.”
    “Oh?”
    “Orders. Do you call them orders? ‘If you see an enemy ship, damn the signals and close with him.’ What kind of orders are those? In a fleet action there has to be detail—every circumstance foreseen, all manoeuvres planned in such a manner that every captain will know what is expected of him. As for signals—is this an example to our junior officers? Are you satisfied, Mr Kydd?”
    Kydd had no experience in a fleet action as an officer. As a master’s mate on the lower deck during the battle of Camperdown he had never been privy to the wider tactical picture on the quarterdeck. Now, as a signal lieutenant, he was expected to act as a crucial link in the chain of command.
    “He’s a fighting seaman, that I like,” Kydd said firmly. “A rear admiral, but goes out in th’ boats himself at Cadíz, takes the fight t’ the enemy.”
    “Seeking a reputation at the cannon’s mouth.”
    Bryant snorted impatiently. “A plain-sailing admiral— I ’m satisfied, an’ I surely know what will answer with him.”
    Kydd finished his meal in silence, and went up on deck. A lone figure stood by the hances. It was Bowden, staring out, unseeing.
    Kydd approached, but before he could say anything the lad had moved away.
    “Tysoe!”
    Kydd’s servant appeared quickly: the Princess Royal was giving a grand reception that evening in honour of Admiral Nelson, and all Gibraltar would be there.
    “Full fig ’n’ sword.”

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    “Certainly, sir.” Kydd held back a smile—Tysoe was never more contented than when he was arrayed in his finery. “The silver buckles, sir?”
    “Of course.” Kydd knew that this was Tysoe’s way of