Inferno

Chapter 68

Krieger kept his assured expression until he was back in his casemate, then sat at his desk and held his head in his hands.

‘Why, Johannes, so low?’

Jerking up, he saw Bille. ‘Oh, naught to speak on. Just tired, is all.’

‘I came to see how you’re progressing.’

‘Fine. You must have seen the matroserne working like heroes. We’ll be ready.’

‘Then we’d better talk tactics. What do you say to-’ He stopped and cocked his head, listening.

‘What did you hear?’

‘Nothing.’

Krieger frowned, confused. ‘That’s just it – no sound. They’ve all stopped working for some reason.’

‘I’ll get those slove kanaljer bastards going!’ he swore, and got to his feet but paused at the sight of a breathless lieutenant in the doorway.

‘Sir, I think you’d like to come top-side,’ he said, his face grim.

The British fleet was on the move. Sails were being loosed and sheeted home all along the broad front of the armada. They were headed directly towards the harbour entrance.

‘Be damned to it!’ Krieger burst out. ‘They’ve got our refusal and are giving answer to it!’

They were coming on in numbers. Very shortly there would be a climactic battle for possession or destruction of the Danish fleet.

‘We throw in everything we’ve got,’ Krieger said hotly.

‘I think not, Johannes.’

‘What?’

Bille smiled thinly. ‘We’re being paid a handsome compliment, can’t you see? Their main fleet is closing to stopper up our own, thinking it in shape to hazard theirs.’ Seeing disbelief, he added, ‘You’ll see I’m right – they’ll moor in the last of the four-fathom water.’

As though in obedience to his words the ships rounded to at just that point, only a few miles north of the harbour.

A detached group continued as if in insolent challenge, spreading out as they came. ‘And those?’ Krieger said drily.

‘If I was the English admiral I’d have some sort of shallow-draught inshore squadron to protect their transports, wouldn’t you?’

‘As we’ll have to fight through to get at them.’ His face tightened in determination.

Bille called for a telescope, and as the ships took their positions he counted them off. ‘Gun-brigs, a small frigate or is that a ship-sloop? There’s a quantity of bomb-ketches and what looks like a cloud of their light morterchalups, a bit of a mixed bag, I’d think.’

Krieger lifted an eyebrow. ‘So, most with deeper draught – they won’t be able to get close in to stop us. And their mortars will never stand against our long twenty-fours. If we move fast we’ll have a chance.’

‘It’s my bet that …’

‘The redcoats will have artillery on their flank as they’ll turn on us,’ Krieger finished. ‘I’ve thought of that. To clear the way to the transports I’m going to entertain ’em with some fireworks. They’ll be behind earthworks so I’ll have the morterchalups throw a storm of hundred-pound shells over the top, the kanonchalups slamming in some round shot to keep their heads down.’

‘And you’ll-’

‘And there’ll be kanonbads lying to seaward taking on that inshore squadron, helped by other kanonchalups as will keep ’em at a respectful distance.’

‘There’s something else we can do, Johannes.’

‘Oh?’

‘I’m going to get our stout General Bielefeldt to make a sally of sorts first, let us get into position. Who knows? They might drive in their lines handsomely,’ he finished doubtfully.