The Admirals' Game by David Donachie Page A

wishes to bring an action for perjury against you.’
    Dying to ask if there had been any news of casualties in that day’s action, the word perjury passed Barclay by, until he realised that probably, if there had, Hotham would not yet know, which made stupid his previous euphoria at the thought of Pearce dead, so his reply was absent-minded.
    â€˜I think that certain person would be better to attend to his duty, sir.’
    â€˜I shall ensure that he does so, Captain Barclay, and I can assure you it will be warm, but now I wish you to put your mind to other matters. Given that what Admiral Gell attempted this morning has so spectacularly failed, what would you suggest we do about that damned battery?’
    The thoughts he had been harbouring on deck floated into his mind, but given what had gone before he decided they should remain there. Needing to please this man, what followed was no more than a good, if educated, guess.
    â€˜You have already alluded to it, sir. There is only one thing to do. It must be attacked and destroyed, but not by cannon fire.’ Hotham was nodding, creating a relievedRalph Barclay, who knew he had guessed right, though the game had to be played out. ‘An assault with troops, in other words.’
    â€˜Precisely. I take it, Captain Barclay, that in suggesting such a course you would give due consideration to the fact that in terms of losses it could be costly.’
    â€˜I would, sir, but I would also give consideration to the cost of doing nothing. Fort Malbousquet is already suffering from bombardment, Mulgrave likewise. If this Buonaparte fellow you mentioned can advance another battery into a more forward position, and then be able to employ his 24-pounders on Malbousquet, matters could become critical. I know he risks losses of his own, and serious ones, but I have already alluded to his lack of concern for human life.’
    â€˜I made the very point to Lord Hood when we discussed matters. He was reluctant to sanction such an assault.’
    â€˜He may well reconsider now, sir.’
    Another half a minute passed in silence before Hotham said, ‘Boats and marines, yes?’
    â€˜At dawn, sir, with the sun coming from the east behind them, but supported by a land assault as well, perhaps from Fort Mulgrave.’
    â€˜A night attack is a possibility. Whatever, it would require bold leadership, would it not, Barclay, and officers willing to risk all?’
    A third glass of wine on the way to his mouth, Ralph Barclay again stopped, for it was obvious, though againno name was used, what Hotham was driving at. The image of John Pearce leading a charge across a cloying sandy beach was a pleasing one, but not as agreeable as the next vision he conjured up, of that same fellow drowning in a pool of his own blood.
    â€˜An officer could decline the duty, sir.’
    â€˜Oh I think not, Barclay, when we are dealing with a fellow much attached to certain people. I would suggest that as well as marines, the assault would require a body of tars to spike the guns. Some, for instance, may come from your present command, others from the seamen presently serving on HMS
Faron
.’
    â€˜An excellent notion, sir, very wise, if I may say so.’
    One of the virtues of dealing with Sir William Hotham was the fact that, given as he was to long silences, it was possible to think ahead of him, yet the notion Ralph Barclay was cogitating on now was not entirely cheerful. He was asking himself why Hotham was favouring
him
with HMS
Leander
, when he had other captains attached to his flag with as good a claim to his favour, in fact in at least three cases he knew of, a much better one.
    It occurred to him that Pearce might be the reason. Lord Hood had not confirmed the decision of his court; was that a worry to the man who had set it up? It was Hotham who had sent away Pearce and his Pelicans as part of the escort for those revolutionary sailors, his secretaries who had