Cross of Fire (23 page)

Howard trapped Manvell’s eye this time. Manvell was unable to read the young man’s face but sure that the next question should be his.

‘Adapt in what way, Captain?’

Coxon carried on eating and waved his fork for the rest to follow.

‘A minor addendum that is all. My intelligence serves for us not to attend to captains Ogle and Herdman.’

‘
Not
to attend? On what intelligence, Captain?’ Manvell asked.

Coxon chewed, brushed his hair forward, separating the strands with a thumbnail. Habit now.

‘I know it has been difficult for you to approve, Mister Manvell, but Walter Kennedy has shown himself invaluable. I think the difference between our success and the
Swallow
’s
and
Weymouth
’s
failure will be their arrogance to not consider the value of base men.’

‘So what has your “pirate” told, Captain?’

Manvell felt Howard’s glare. Doctor Howe’s red face almost burst.

‘
Manvell
!’ The doctor poured himself some port to mellow his shock; neglecting in his horror to first fill Howard’s glass to his left. ‘
Respect, sir
!’

Coxon raised his arm across Howe.

‘No, no, Doctor. My First is correct. His concern is for the
Standard
. I would expect no less.’ He leant to Manvell’s side of the table.

‘My intelligence, Mister Manvell, is gained from my interrogation of the slave trader, Leadstone, at Leone. Thanks to the man’s trust of his old pirate bonds in Walter Kennedy he has informed us that the pirate Devlin is after the treasure taken in April from the Portuguese viceroy.’

Howard spoke for the first time. ‘The
Virgin of the Cape
? She was taken by pirates in April.’ He looked around the table to the blank faces. ‘The treasure on her was in
millions
.’

‘The very same,’ Coxon rapped the table. ‘Which is why I have delayed so long in telling. It would fly around the ship in moments. I want the men to be inspired but not before the chase is within reach.’

‘Within reach?’ Manvell asked.

‘Devlin and Roberts are coursing after the treasure. Possibly together. Which is why we shall adjust our orders as given, as is our duty when intelligence demands. Leadstone tells that one of the pirates that captured the bounty has run into the Amirantes with his lot. Over a million, as mister Howard states learnedly. What say you to that, Mister Manvell?’

Manvell took a slow drink of port.

‘My instinct would be to question intelligence gathered from sources distrustful by their criminal natures, Captain. I also do not see how this changes our alliance with the
Swallow
and the
Weymouth.
From your declaration I have gathered that we are going after
two
pirate vessels. Roberts and Devlin. Would not the extra ships be of use?’

Coxon took the port from Howe’s place and passed it left to Manvell.

‘It is time that unbalances us on that level, Mister Manvell. Kennedy says that the pirate Levasseur – along with dozens of others – operates out of Bourbon island, off Madagascar’s east coast. Part of the Mascarenes.’

Doctor Howe belched through the French pirate name.

‘
Leva
-what now?’

Coxon ignored the interruption. ‘That is where we’re heading. To Bourbon. To fish for where Devlin may have gone. Time taken to meet with the
Swallow
will be wasteful. I’m more conscious of our orders to apprehend, and with a treasure to boot I would not like to consider the talk of us in England if we let such opportunity pass. Would you not agree, Mister Howard?’

Coxon attempted to nail the young man to his flag, Howard his oldest ally. Howard’s face had still not revealed anything to Manvell except a disagreement with the suet.

‘I understand our orders are to hunt pirates. I don’t see how that’s changed, sir.’

Manvell remained calm. ‘But to hunt them with the assistance of
two
other men-of-war and report to Captain Ogle. Has that not changed?’

‘Manvell,’ Coxon shook his head. ‘The
Standard
is acting on information unknown to anyone else. Know you that every packet contains the scripture, “as the captain does see fit”. We are heading sooner to conflict. I should hope that it is not the prospect of assault that concerns you?’

Manvell felt the eyes of the table upon him, the eyes of the duke staring across the waves from his drawing room and judging his daughter’s choice of husband.

‘No, sir. And I’m sure the men will be uplifted by the word of true treasure as their goal. But this morning you bade me course for the Comoros and—’

‘And tomorrow we will shape for Bourbon using Cape Sebastian.’ Coxon raised his glass. ‘I can do it myself if you wish?’

Manvell removed his hands to below the table to hide their trembling. ‘I only voice concern, Captain, that as your First I should like to be better informed of my task and duty if I am to perform ably.’ This posturing was hard for Manvell. He had served three captains, most of whom had been happy with his manner and impressed with his ability despite his stock. He hoped that his unease was only born from his lack of experience of the boldness of men like Coxon and not of a want of clashing with pirates. ‘And I have never been in service when orders were changed.’

‘In war it is commonplace,’ Coxon said.

‘But we are not in war.’ Manvell regretted the words as they came, wished to pull them back in as they fell upon the table. It seemed almost his habit now.

Coxon eyed him over his glass as he drank and placed it back to the table slowly. ‘What would you call it, Lieutenant, if not war? What you must remember is that I have seen pirates up close. I have seen
his
ship. No match for the
Standard
and her guns. And when I announce to the men that there is treasure to be had they will grow wings to push us on. I am sorry to hear that your service has only been dull up to now, Mister Manvell. But you claim that your father taught you how to use a sword so I doubt that is your issue.’

‘I have no issue, sir,’ and he meant it. ‘But I would like to hear it confirmed that it is Devlin that is our target now. That Roberts is not of your concern – my apologies – of the
Standard
’s
concern.’

The bowls cooled and good humour vanished. Coxon seemed to puff at a pipe that was not there and scratched his hair forward again.

‘Yes,’ he said at last. ‘If that is how we shall have it. We are after Devlin and a million pounds of prize. I see no harm in admitting it. Why not? We have good men, a fine ship and, once at Bourbon, I’m sure we will have the key. Together – a crew such as this – we could pickpocket our hangman.’

Manvell saluted his glass. ‘So be it,’ he said. ‘I am convinced. Then tomorrow at
him
.’ And again he failed to read anything from Howard’s stoic face. ‘But we will need to supply.’

Howard spoke finally.

‘Bourbon is a trading island, Mister Manvell. No purser’s credits but we could give sailcloth and cordage for what we need.’ He smiled at Coxon, the first time Manvell had seen his face shift.

Coxon returned the smile briefly then ruminated on his glass tilting with the sea.

He had not told any of them of his meeting in the Boston colony in January. A square of paper sitting in his coat, burning into him. Hidden even from the Board that gave him his orders. Manvell was a good man but Coxon could see his faith wilting. Even Howard only indulged him. How far could he push before he would have to reveal his only true order? Two black-coated men had come to him in January to call him back. Paper kept in the safety of his command. Paper even he had been forbidden to read. The seal to be broken by those who would judge his success or failure.

Devlin their only order. For their shame and their folly in having trusted a pirate. No plays or ballads for Devlin. Not even a noose.

End him. Once and for all. Ignore all else.

Doctor Howe broke his sombre mood. ‘Forgive me, gentlemen. I heard something about “hangmen”? What are we about now?’

Chapter Seventeen

There exist islands that have no names, or at least no official names. That comes when a country decrees to colonise and lands a flagged possession stone, builds a fort, establishes a trade route, and claims it as their own. Until such time the island might have many titles, depending on the map the mariner uses.

Devlin used a new Mortier which gave no such names for the tiny outlines the priest had pointed to with his fingernail. But O’Neill repeated the titles for the cluster of islands that he had overheard The Buzzard use.

‘The last island of the Amirantes,’ O’Neill said proudly. ‘The largest one. Fifty to sixty miles all round.’

Devlin bent to the map. ‘It has no name?’

‘Does it matter? Levasseur scoffed at Taylor for going to Panama. His, he said, was devoid of man but as fruitful as Eden. That is the island where The Buzzard has gone. That is where he has taken the cross.’

‘The
treasure
,’ Devlin corrected.

Dandon joined them and looked down at the island.

‘Do you know this place, Patrick?’

Devlin dragged his fingernail over the string of islands.

‘These are the islands that the Portos called “The Three Brothers and The Seven Sisters”. Wild places. No-one wants them.’

‘A good place to hide,’ Dandon said.

Devlin concentrated on the chart. ‘From Cape St Sebastien,’ he covered the tip of Madagascar with the first fingers of his left hand where the rhumb-lines passed and twisted his wrist to match the line that stretched away and ended at
de Roque Pires
.

‘Sixty-five degrees north north-east.’ He walked the rhumb line with his first knuckle as a gauge. ‘Seven hundred miles. Six days if we’re lucky and sail all night.’

‘And no sign of Roberts,’ Dandon reminded. ‘He may have already found a guide and beaten us to it.’

Devlin slammed the book closed.

‘That’s the craic of it! The Buzzard took the ship at Bourbon. He’s taken his
Victory
and run five degrees south of the equator. West he hits Zanzibar, east, Sumatra. He could trade between them for a thousand years and Europe would never know.’

Dandon watched Devlin’s confidence shine yet could not help but break it.

‘It has been three months since Levasseur took the treasure. Would he not have perhaps melted this cross? Parted this island by now?’