In Dangerous Company: The Dorset Boy Book 4 Read online

  The combatants were called forward and Lord Candor chose his weapon first. He grinned at Clive as if he hadn’t a care in the world, which unnerved him. Does the man have no fear? he thought, sweating.

  They walked side by side to the designated area, Lord Candor humming a jolly tune. Then they were positioned back to back on the beach. Clive had chosen to walk North.

  The Master of Ceremonies counted the steps off. At the count of ten Clive turned with his pistol held barrel up. He stared down range at his opponent and saw that he was looking him directly in the eyes. He didn’t blink or move to aim his pistol as Clive brought his gun to bear.

  He could feel the sweat on his brow and the tremble of his hand as he tried to aim it. All Lord Candor did was raise his empty left hand at him like he held a gun and mimed shooting. Clive couldn’t believe he was letting him have first shot.

  “Bang” Candor said loud enough to be heard. Clive jumped, blinking rapidly, and his pistol fired unexpectedly as his finger tightened on the hair trigger. The bullet missed Lord Candor by a good foot.

  Clive was now stood facing a man known to be a killer, with a loaded pistol in his hand, and was no longer grinning at him. Who slowly brought his gun into firing position, his hand steady as a rock, he did not blink.

  Clive had never faced an armed enemy. His father had bought him his rank and he had only commanded parade soldiers up to then.

  How did I come to this he thought in despair!

  Candor had completed the transition from pistol at rest to it pointing straight at his face.

  Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

  His vision zoomed in on the gaping maw of the pistol.

  He could see straight down the barrel!

  He watched in horror as the trigger finger slowly tightened.

  The hammer dropped and the flint sparked on the frizzen. The priming powder ignited.

  He fainted.

  The bullet passed over his head as Marty pulled the barrel up at the last moment.

  He came too as someone put smelling salts under his nose. It was one of his seconds. There was no sign of Marty or his people.

  He knew he would be leaving India on the next available ship.

  Back at the villa Marty and his entourage were in good spirits.

  “Bang?” Wilson asked as he was told the story of the morning.

  “Yes, he made a mime of shooting him with his empty left hand and said ‘bang’.” Captain Cooper said. “Never seen anything like it.”

  “Then he fainted?” Wilson asked again.

  “Yes, out like a light.”

  Wilson laughed. “Typical of Martin. Dominate his opponent, get an edge and exploit it to the full.”

  Cooper was rapidly re-assessing the young man he would be following into battle with the pirates based out of Réunion.

  Chapter 2 Intelligence

  The Belle returned with Tom and John Smith bringing Marty’s team back up to its full strength of eight. It had grown by two when the two Basques, who had joined them during the mission to disrupt French efforts to ferment rebellion, had insisted on staying with him. More importantly they had a comprehensive report on the harbour at Réunion.

  “It’s a precious long way to Réunion from here, over two and an ‘alf thousand sea miles we logged. The port is on the Northern end of the island and is called La Possession. It’s flying the French flag an there be two French frigates there, one thirty-eight and t’other a forty,” Tom reported to the gathering that included, Marty, The Governor, Ranjit, General Lake, Captain Cooper, Captain Purvis of the Belle and Lieutenant Jarrow of the Cutter Jolly.

  “There were also two brigantines, a xebec and what looked like a corvette all under different colours,” John Smith added.

  “That is a lot of ships for us to take on,” observed Captain Cooper.

  “All at once, yes.” Marty replied. “Carry on Tom.”

  “Aye sir. The frigates looked settled, with yards crossed and harbour gaskets fitted. Not tidy like a British ship mind. The others were ready for sea.”

  “It would be good if we could remove those frigates before Napoleon sues for peace,” General Lake put in.

  “Easier said than done,” Cooper snorted. “They are both bigger than the Endeavour which is a thirty-six.”

  Marty sat back and grinned at the assembled men.

  “It’s not the size of the dog, it’s how hard it bites. Our rate of fire will more than make up for our lack of guns,” he reassured them. “Now I need to talk to our French guest.”

  The ‘French guest’ was a French agent that they had captured whilst foiling an attempted arms shipment to fuel a rebellion. Nobody from the French government had made any comment about his incarceration, or the operation in general, so they suspected that the whole thing had been run under a cloak of ‘plausible deniability.’

  “In other words, you have been hung out to dry my friend.” Marty said to Brieu. “That means you are mine to do with as I want.”

  Brieu said nothing just looked at the table top.

  “Do you know Federick La Plant? He was at the Rotterdam consulate.”

  There was just a flicker in Brieu’s eyes.

  “I killed him for torturing my friend, who I had to kill to put out of his pain. Then I tortured Arnoud St Pierre until he gave up all his secrets.”

  He took out his fighting knife and examined the edge.

  “I will peel your skin from your body inch by inch with a cat o’ nine tails and rub salt into what is left until you tell me everything you know.”

  He looked him square in the eyes. Then he smiled. Brieu thought it was the most chilling thing he had ever seen.

  “Now I want to know everything about the operation in Mahé and everything you know about Réunion.”

  Brieu looked down at the table top again.

  Marty sighed and called out.

  “Bring in the grating and salt!”

  The door opened and Christo and Matai entered carrying a ship’s grating. Antton followed with a bucket of salt.

  “My men are Basques you know. They have no love for the French who want to destroy their homeland.”

  “Strip him and lash him to the grating” he ordered.

  Brieu put up a fight but Garai joined them and together they got the struggling man secured.

  Marty took of his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He picked up his knife and tested the edge. Then took out a wet stone and honed it a little more, the noise grating on Brieu’s nerves. When he could shave the hairs off his arm he nodded in satisfaction.

  “I don’t want you to say anything right now as I’m going to give you a taste of what is to come if you stay silent,” he whispered in Brieu’s ear.

  He nodded to Garai who took a cat out of its baize bag and shook out the knotted thongs so that Brieu could get a good look at them. He then rubbed salt into the thongs from the bucket.

  “You have never seen a cat before?” Marty asked. “It will strip the skin from your back and cut your flesh to the bone.”

  He held up his hand with two fingers extended. Garai pulled back his arm and brought the cat down on Brieu’s back.

  Unlike all British sailors, who knew exactly what a cat could do and the pain it could inflict from either personal experience of from witnessing a punishment, Brieu had no idea of what to expect. As the cat struck his eyes popped open and he screamed.

  Garai delivered a second lash and this time put his shoulder behind it. Brieu screamed again.

  Marty pulled his head around by his hair and asked softly.

  “Tell me about Mahé.”

  Tears were running down Brieu’s face. The salt that Garai had rubbed into the lashes was burning his back.

  “Will you tell me what I want to know?”

  He shook his head.

  “It only gets worse. After ten lashes we will give the cat to a left-handed man. You know him. The big man who came with the soldiers. That will leave a lovely chec
kerboard pattern on your back.”

  He nodded to Garai.

  Eight more times the lash fell and then Marty picked up a handful of salt and gently rubbed it into the cuts on his back.

  Brieu arched his back in agony.

  Marty called for Wilson.

  The thought of Wilson wielding the lash was enough and Brieu said.

  “Stop! I will tell you everything!”

  “Good man,” Marty praised him. “I knew you would see it my way.”

  “There are three agents who are responsible for fermenting the rebellion,” Marty reported to the Governor, Ranjit Sihng and Captain Cooper.

  “Brieu was one. Each was given a leader to deal with. Brieu had Oomaithurai. The other two have Marutha Pandiyar and Kerala Simham. The plan was for Oomaithurai to raise an army, armed with the guns we intercepted and reinforced by men from the other two groups. The agents regularly return to Mahé to file reports so you may be able to intercept them en-route. The details are in our report.”

  “Your methods are very, aah, direct, Martin,” General Lake said with a disapproving look.

  “Not as direct as theirs,” he responded. “They tortured a friend of mine near to death. In comparison we were gentle.”

  The General nodded but was obviously uncomfortable with the idea. He completely missed the irony that his sergeants regularly beat his troops for ill-discipline and ten strokes was considered mild.

  Captain Cooper changed the subject.

  “What did you learn about Réunion?” he asked

  “It’s set up to disrupt the East India Company. The two Frigates are there to protect the island in case we decide to attack it. The other ships are supposed to be French privateers with letters of marque.

  The Tanya, as the Belle was named when she was captured, was the only non-French ship there. According to the crew we captured, the ones who got a pardon for helping with the infiltration of Mahé, Jerimiah Flann was the pirate king until the French showed up. He wasn’t allowed to join the club and Billy Smith reckoned that all the other ships weren’t privateers at all but country ships posing as them.”

  “Wouldn’t Brieu know that?” asked the Governor.

  “Not necessarily,” Marty replied thoughtfully. “French departments don’t really talk to each other that much. He said he got instructions to help them as required, but each of them is playing their own game. Billy thought the way the ships were run was more Navy like than privateer. The number of crew is lower than you would expect as well.”

  “I don’t understand that. Can you explain?” asked Ranjit.

  “Privateers carry up to double crew the normal crew so they can man as many prizes as possible. They also prefer to get in close and board, relying on superior numbers to carry the day.”

  “Does this make a difference to your thoughts on how to defeat them?” asked Armstrong.

  “Not really. I have no intention of boarding them unless we have to. I would rather rely on our superior gunnery and sail handling,” Marty responded.

  “What we need to do is lure them out and take them one or two at a time then” Cooper stated.

  Chapter 3 To Spring a Trap

  Marty visited the Company’s shipping office the next day and got the schedule of departures for the next two months. He was surprised it was so easily obtainable. Security was not something that came to the minds of the Company clerks before the prospect of making a profit.

  There were a couple of ships that were leaving at the right time for them to be used as bait. He went to talk to the captains.

  “Let me get this straight.” Captain Smedley of the Amethyst summarised. “You want me to make it known I will take the eastern passage between Madagascar and Reunion, but I don’t actually have to. Just go in that direction long enough to be seen to be doing it.”

  “Yes, that just about sums it up,” Marty replied with a smile.

  “This is just to tempt the pirates in Réunion out so you can give them a hiding. But won’t they just turn tail as soon as they see you with your warships?”

  “That is a risk,” Marty replied truthfully.

  “Well it would be better if I took that passage and we arrange to give them a nasty surprise when they take me on” Smedley continued

  “That is true, but I can’t ask a Company captain to risk his ship and cargo” Marty admitted.

  “Well that is surely my risk to take, but I will ask how you plan to give them a bloody nose.”

  “Well if you are offering, what I propose is that we beef up your crew with me and my men plus a few company marines. We upgrade your guns with some carronades on your fore and quarter deck. We let the French get in close and engage them, holding them up until the Marine ships can come to our assistance. They will be positioned hull down on the horizon ready to close in as soon as they hear gunfire. If they are positioned correctly, they will be just able to see us from their mast tops,” Marty extemporised.

  “We will need to keep them engaged for about two hours,” Smedley estimated.

  “Yes, probably less but no longer than that,” Marty replied.

  “I’d be happier if we had one ship in closer support,” Smedley stated.

  Marty considered that.

  “We could make the Belle look like a cargo ship. That would even things up against most of what they have got. You have twenty-four guns?”

  “Yes, six pounders.”

  “Humph, they are next to useless. We will upgrade you to nines plus thirty-two-pound carronades. Can you make an excuse to get your ship into dock for some kind of repair?”

  A week later and Marty was stood on the deck of the Amethyst in the Company repair dock. A team made a show of replacing the main mast stays which Captain Smedley had condemned as unsafe. Under cover of darkness the ship’s armament had been removed and would be replaced that night with long nines and carronades.

  A supplementary crew of Company gunners and marines were already onboard effectively doubling the manpower. All the scheduled passengers had been re-booked on other ships and their cabins were now utilised to accommodate the extra crew.

  The Belle had been given a makeover and now looked just like a merchant brig. The paintwork had been done in such a way as to disguise the gun ports rather than enhance them. She had also been given an armament upgrade and now sported:

  Eight long nines, four to a side amidships.

  Ten twenty-four-pound carronades, five to a side filling the fore and aft ports.

  Four thirty-two-pound carronades, two on the fore deck and two on the quarterdeck.

  The two ships together would give a pirate a very nasty surprise if he was in anything smaller than a frigate and even then, could probably hold their own.

  The rest of their ‘squadron’ was waiting in the harbour. The frigate Endeavour, and the cutter Jolly were fully provisioned and ready to go.

  The time came for them to set sail. The Amethyst and the Belle left first and dawdled south as merchant ships did. The Endeavour and the Jolly left three hours later. Captain Cooper brought the Endeavour up behind the two lead ships so his main mast lookout could just see them. With the height his mast gave them that put them around twelve miles behind and with all sail set they could catch up in less than an hour. It also reduced the chance that anyone would be able to spot them, but it would take careful sailing to stay out of sight.

  Captain Smedley steered a course Southeast that would take them between Madagascar and the island of Réunion. They expected to attract attention when they got level with the northern tip of Madagascar.

  Smedley surprised Marty by keeping sail on overnight thereby averaging around ten knots. When he asked him, he said he only reduced sail when he had passengers onboard, for their comfort. They made a good two hundred fifty to three hundred miles a day.

  Ten days of reasonable weather saw them in their hunting grounds, and they doubled the watch, changing them every hour. Marty was sure the ‘pirates’ had people watching the harbour
and fast ships to carry messages so expected company at some time.

  They were one hundred miles West-Northwest of Réunion when the hail came.

  “Sail off the larboard bow!”

  The maintained their course and thirty minutes later came,

  “Sail on the larboard bow has turned towards us. Second sail dead ahead.”

  “They had two ships positioned horizon to horizon looking for us,” Marty observed.

  “Looks like it,” replied Smedley.

  “I’m going up for a look,” Marty informed him.

  He slung a bring-em-near over his shoulder and ran up the mainmast ratlines, around the futtock shrouds to the topsail yard where the lookout was perched. He settled in and scanned the horizon with just his naked eye. He spotted the sail off the larboard bow easily and then after a moment of scanning saw the one dead ahead. Then he brought up the bring-em-near to his eye and scanned again.

  Now he could see that the first ship was a corvette. He scanned right and picked up the second. It was a xebec. To be sure he scanned further right and stopped. There was a third sail off the bow to starboard. Probably a brigantine from the fact she had a gaff sail on her main. All three were converging on them.

  Marty arrived on the quarter deck via a stay and went to talk with Smedley.

  “Three of them, you say!” Smedley exclaimed.

  “Yes, they had them strung out to cover as much sea area as possible but now they are converging on us. I think they will try and get here at the same time hoping to overwhelm us with numbers and avoid a fight if possible.”

  “We will have to disappoint them then.” Smedley said with a grin.

  “Just continue as if we haven’t seen them for another hour and then do what any good merchantman would do.” Marty replied.