A Perilous Alliance

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A Perilous Alliance Page 21

by FIONA BUCKLEY


  There was one dissenting voice after that, from the fellow with the hairy wen. He tried to say they’d all been branded and it hadn’t killed them, but someone shouted: ‘You bawled like a babby, when it was your turn, Dick Mitchell!’ whereupon there was laughter and Mitchell subsided, growlingly.

  In the end, accompanied by two crewmen chosen by the others, we all went back to Garnett’s cabin where I repeated my earlier performance with my picklocks. Bones threw open the lid of the strongbox; Magnus lifted out a couple of bags and the ledger. They did it in a thoroughly histrionic manner, like showmen at a fair. Come one, come all, see the five-legged pony! See the most daring acrobats in the world; brought here from far Cathay! See Dr Wondrous show you marvels with a pack of cards!

  There is no need to recount in detail the reaction of the two new witnesses. Once they had glimpsed the coin and the jewellery and grasped both their probable value and their virtually certain source, they were so angry that if the captain had walked in at that moment, he would have died then and there.

  Eventually, they grew calmer and we took them back to the deck where the rest of the crew were impatiently waiting, and about to come in search of us. We left it to our two witnesses to explain what they had seen. Then there was an outcry so huge that Dale and I put our hands over our ears because we didn’t want to hear any more of the things that his crew were prepared to do to their captain once they got hold of him. Finally, Bones raised his voice to a bellow, ordered them to be quiet and once more called me forward.

  ‘Let Mistress Stannard tell you what she proposes. It has a certain – charm, shall we say? I recommend it,’ he told them.

  ‘As long as it works,’ muttered Brockley.

  ‘Amen to that,’ I muttered, and then did as I was asked.

  TWENTY-TWO

  A Matter of Timing

  Timing mattered. We wanted to arrive at Lundy as evening was approaching, and we must time it just right. Too soon and the transaction would be over too quickly: too late and he’d stay aboard the Lucille till morning. Either of those situations would make things more difficult. We needed the cover of darkness, to give us a head start.

  The four days we spent on rounding the toe of Cornwall were as taut as lute-strings. We kept out of sight and kept our door bolted inside except when mealtimes were near. We heard, from Bones, that arguments several times broke out among the crew, and that more than once, the whole plan hung by a thread. We all slept badly and I sometimes heard Sybil crying on her pallet at night, and heard Brockley whispering words of comfort when Dale did the same thing.

  But Kate did not weep. After her first outburst, Kate had to begin with been quiet, apparently stunned by her lover’s shocking betrayal. But our plans seemed to have made her hopeful and after we left the Isle of Wight, she found some source of courage within herself. She tried to be cheerful, sometimes even made jokes. I began to like her more and more.

  We rounded Land’s End at last and then acquired an inconveniently brisk, fair wind. Bones, bringing one of our meals, said glumly that at this rate, we’d be there by mid-afternoon, which would be most inconvenient. ‘We might have to get off-course, and risk Garnett’s losing his temper with the helmsman,’ he said.

  He withdrew, limping artistically. To make sure that Garnett didn’t take it into his head to have Bones in the shore party on this occasion, he had staged a fall down a companionway and declared that he had sprained an ankle. ‘No one with a sprained ankle could manage that cliff path,’ he told us.

  Presently, Brockley, who had all along spent a good deal of time clambering on to barrels and peering out of the awkward windows, called the rest of us to look, and by handing each other up on to barrels as well, we all had our first sight of Lundy, standing out of the sea in the distance like the back of a monster whale, as Sybil said. As a child, she told us, she had had a tutor who had shown her pictures of whales.

  ‘We’ll soon see it more clearly,’ said Brockley gloomily. ‘We’re getting there a lot too fast.’

  Fortunately, however, the wind eased just after that. Providence was with us and we reached Lundy at just the right time, nearly dusk, but still light enough to give us a real view of the island.

  ‘It doesn’t look like a whale now,’ said Sybil, slithering down from a barrel and shaking out her grubby skirts.

  ‘It’s more like a cake, with green marchpane on top,’ Kate agreed. ‘Except that marchpane isn’t usually green.’

  It was quite a good description. The island stood high, with dark, greyish cliffs rising sheer for at least four hundred feet, and on top, there was grass, vividly green, the kind of grass that is frequently and thoroughly watered. As the Lucille manoeuvred to her anchorage, we caught glimpses of the nearby sea, blue-green in colour and of an astounding crystal clarity. Seabirds bobbed in the water and wheeled round the cliffs, calling with cold, free voices that reminded me of the wild geese I had once been told I had an urge to follow. I was cured of that now, I thought, grimly.

  Brockley, who on our various journeys had taken an interest in such things, recognized some of the birds. ‘Those with the yellow necks are gannets and the squat ones with those coloured stripes on their beaks, that look like popinjays – they’re sea-parrots. Some people call them puffins,’ he said informatively, and Kate said gravely: ‘This is a most educational voyage,’ whereupon we all laughed, or tried to, recognizing one of her valiant jests.

  We had the pleasure of watching as Captain Garnett, accompanied by Myers and Leo, set out for the shore in the captain’s shoreboat. By now the light was fading rapidly, and according to Bones, who came to see us, along with Clay, it was a near certainty that they’d stay ashore till morning. Bones was thankful we had arrived safely and at the right time. ‘It’s been even more of a worry than I’ve let you know,’ he told us. ‘It’s been hard on the men, too, even the ones who like our scheme best, trying not to show what they think. I’ve caught some of them giving the captain and Myers and Leo too, dirty looks, and making gestures behind their backs. Lucky no one was caught at it! And the way some of them have said Aye aye, sir … I heard insult in the very tone! What’s saved us is that Captain Garnett is so sure of himself that he simply didn’t notice it! Now, Master Brockley’s plan about the letter, Mistress Stannard. I dare say you can write clearly. So while our captain climbs the cliff, maybe you could make a fair copy of this draft letter that Magnus and I have made. I thought I’d slip ashore and nail it to the chief’s boathouse.’

  He handed me a folded sheet of paper and Magnus, delving into a bag he was carrying, presented me with a writing set and some unused paper. I read the draft while my friends crowded round to read it too and Brockley laughed. ‘Very good,’ he said. ‘That should make the point.’

  To Abdul Hussein, commander of Lundy Island. We the undersigned herewith offer you three strong males, suitable for the galleys or the mines. They are Mr Garnett, captain of our ship, and his two close friends, known as Myers and Leo. Garnett has proved himself a faithless captain who has defrauded his men of pay to which they are entitled, and has shamefully misused men who have done no wrong. His companions have been his partners in these things. We seek no payment for their persons. The profit for selling them on is entirely yours.

  ‘That should do it,’ said Magnus. ‘These gentry, they really do have their own laws and customs. They really do hold by loyalty and sticking together. A captain what cheats his men and mistreats them won’t be invited to join them; no, he won’t, nor his best friends neither.’

  ‘We’ll get the signatures or marks from the crew,’ said Bones. ‘But not yours, Master Brockley, or yours, Mistress Stannard. This letter is from the men of the Lucille. Do you agree to that?’

  We all agreed. I wrote the fair copy and Bones took it away, saying that he would leave the cabin unbolted outside but it was best that we stayed there until he was back from taking the letter ashore and the ship was under way.

  We waited restlessly. From time to
time one or other of us would climb on to a barrel for whatever could be seen outside, but there wasn’t much. We were anchored some way out because one of the pirates’ own vessels was closer in and in our way. Before it was quite dark, we caught glimpses of it when the Lucille swung at her anchor. The pirates had two ships, Bones had told us, but the other was probably at sea, harassing respectable merchantmen or making uninvited calls on the coast of Cornwall.

  I also caught glimpses of the tiny cove which was the landing place, and the pirate captain’s boathouse that Bones had mentioned, a small stone building, well back from the sea and huddled against the cliff, but with what looked like a slipway leading down to the water.

  The light had completely gone and we had lit our lanterns before we at last heard a boat being lowered, presumably for Bones. ‘Our letter’s on its way,’ said Brockley. And then, causing us all to look at each other sharply, came the sound of approaching footsteps. A lot of them.

  The cabin door was thrust open. Bones stood there. His thin face looked unhappy. Magnus Clay was a few steps back, his pugnacious countenance also oddly sad. Behind him, filling up the passageway, was what seemed like most of the crew.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Bones. ‘Mighty sorry. But we can’t take the risk. I mean, we can’t risk freeing you. We can’t sail away with you and put you ashore on the mainland and trust you not to tell the world what the Lucille is and how to recognize her crew.’

  ‘What!’ Kate screamed.

  ‘Don’t be too scared.’ Magnus’ voice was almost pleading. ‘We won’t hurt anyone. Your lives might be quite happy, somewhere in the sunshine.’

  ‘But you have to see,’ said Bones in a voice of real regret, ‘that we can’t just let you go.’

  Brockley said grimly: ‘Are we to understand—?’ and was cut short by Sybil, who cried out: ‘But we would hold our tongues. We’d swear it! You know we would!’ and Dale echoed her with: ‘Yes, yes, of course we would!’ in a voice that was hardly intelligible because it shook so much.

  ‘You’d have to give some account of yourselves and where you’d been. You especially, Mistress Stannard, being who you are.’ Bones sounded almost reasonable. ‘You’d be questioned. It would all come out. This is the best we can do for you. Please, now, don’t make it worse for yourselves. We shan’t ask any money for you …’

  ‘You’re going to abandon us to slavery and you think that would make us feel better!’ I shrieked.

  ‘They’re going to do what?’ demanded Joseph. ‘We’re going to be handed over to these here slavers on the island?’

  ‘I think so,’ said Brockley in savage tones. Dale sank on to her pallet, her eyes bulging with terror.

  Bones said: ‘Let’s get it over.’

  He and Magnus stepped into the cabin and stood aside while the other crewmen poured in after them. They made straight for Joseph and Brockley and I saw that every man carried a bunch of ropes. Brockley was wearing his sword and tried to draw it, but he was overpowered and the sword was seized. He and Joseph swore and fought but they were overcome and their hands were bound behind them, it seemed, on the instant. No doubt, I thought bitterly, the crew had had plenty of practice at this sort of thing.

  ‘Now,’ said the unpleasing Dick Mitchell as he tightened the last knot, ‘let’s not have any trouble. We’ve got knives.’ He produced one and caressed Brockley’s left cheek with it, drawing a thin line of blood from the cheekbone to the jaw. ‘If you ladies don’t want your men friends hurt, you’ll do as you’re bid. Get your things together but hurry.’

  ‘Put on cloaks; it’s chilly on the sea,’ said Magnus. ‘And the beach ain’t much better. Then we’ll take you ashore.’

  There was nothing to be done. Joseph and Brockley cursed; Dale and Kate wept; Sybil was now silent but moved stiffly as though half paralysed and I kept my mouth tightly shut because otherwise I would have burst into uncontrolled screams of rage and imploring wails both at once. We jumbled our things into our saddlebags and I made sure that Brockley’s lanterns, tinderbox and candles were safely in his shoulder-bag.

  ‘Pile it all together,’ Bones said. ‘We’ll bring it. Now come with us.’

  We were taken to the boat we had heard being lowered. Brockley and Joseph were made to board first. Each was untied while he negotiated the rope ladder, and secured again once he was aboard. Neither resisted because, each time, the other had a knife at his throat.

  After that, we women were told to climb down. Joseph and Brockley were hostages for our good behaviour so we did as we were bidden, with difficulty because as well as cloaks we had skirts. Mine swung and struck the side of the ship, and the things in my hidden pouch made a muffled thud. I hoped to heaven that no one would notice and take them from me but Kate, who was just above me, was sobbing so loudly that probably no one could have heard it but me.

  Bones and Magnus came behind us, bringing our belongings. Six more men followed. The boat was big enough to need three pairs of rowers – and in this case, two extra men to keep watch on us.

  We were rowed towards the land, a slow and cautious business for there was no moon, although the sky was thick with stars, and it was just possible to make out the shore as we drew nearer.

  We were landed at a little jetty. There were mooring bollards, and the captain’s boat was tied to one of them. While the others were getting us ashore – they didn’t untie Joseph or Brockley this time – Bones strode up to the boathouse with the letter I had so painstakingly written for him. We heard the tap of a hammer, a very small sound against the murmur of the sea, and then Bones came back.

  ‘That’s done. I know you have lanterns so if you don’t fancy going up to the fort and presenting yourselves, you can see what you’re about while you collect driftwood for a fire. There’s driftwood in plenty. Though you might prefer to go up to the fort even if you have to carry all your belongings. Even with a fire, you’ll find it a cold, wearisome night here on the beach, and you’ll end up in the corsairs’ hands anyway. It’ll be quiet as well as cold. That Dick Mitchell had a notion that we might launch a cannonball or two at the pirates’ ship that’s anchored out there. He said it would annoy the pirates and make it doubly sure that they wouldn’t feel kindly towards Garnett and his friends, but the rest of us said it would make too much noise and tell them up at the fort that something’s wrong. As you well know, we want to be safely at sea before anyone realizes the Lucille has gone. So, though I’m sorry we can’t take you up to the fort and carry your things for you like the knightly gentlemen we’d like to be, we must be off as soon as we can.’

  I was speechless. Kate was still sobbing. There didn’t seem to be anything any of us could possibly say.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Bones said again. ‘Really, desperately sorry. But there it is. We have to look after ourselves.’ He studied our faces for a moment, then said: ‘You have a dagger with you, have you not, Mistress Stannard?’

  I nodded, wondering how he knew. I had thought of it but dared not touch it, for either Brockley or Joseph would probably be dead before I could make any use of it. ‘I saw it when you got your picklocks out,’ Bones said. ‘Such useful things, picklocks. You can use the dagger to release your menfolk. Goodnight. Goodbye.’

  ‘Good luck,’ said Magnus, I think with genuine sorrow for he of all men understood the fate that lay ahead of us. We watched them go back to the jetty. Two of them took the captain’s boat while the rest got into the larger craft. We heard the plash of oars as the two boats drew off to sea. The sound of Bones’ voice, talkative as ever, drifted back to us. We saw that far away, the Lucille was showing lights so that the boats could find their way back.

  ‘So now what do we do?’ asked Sybil, finding her tongue at last. ‘Shiver here all night and wait to be found in the morning, or go up to the fort and explain ourselves and hope we won’t have to share quarters with Garnett and those others?’

  ‘Neither, I think,’ said Brockley, as I cut his wrists free with my dagger and then tur
ned to release Joseph. ‘I fancy, Mistress Jester, that with a little luck, we’ll soon be on course for the mainland. Lucky that the wind has dropped. The sea should be fairly quiet.’

  ‘What do you mean, Roger? We haven’t any boats. They’ve taken the captain’s one as well as ours,’ Dale moaned.

  ‘Well, we might still be able to conjure a vessel for ourselves,’ said Brockley. ‘Am I right, do you think, madam? Was Bones reminding you that you had picklocks with you?’

  ‘I think so,’ I said.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ cried Dale.

  ‘Only Brockley and I heard this,’ I said, ‘but when Brockley and I were out of our cabin, getting at that strongbox, Bones told us that the pirate chief has a boathouse here. There – you can just make it out.’ I pointed. ‘Bones said it was kept locked but when he was hinting just now about picklocks, he sounded cheerful so I imagine that there’s nothing too special about the kind of lock that’s been used. Well, I do have my picklocks with me and I believe there’s a boat in the boathouse. Come with me, everyone!’

  TWENTY-THREE

  Eyes In Shadow

  Bones had tried to give us a chance. Despite the risk to himself and his fellow crew members, he had still tried to give us a chance. He must have struggled with his conscience over that. I could only be grateful that he had finally decided to offer us that glint of hope. Just a glint. He couldn’t be more open with the others there. He couldn’t rely on me remembering what he had said about the boathouse. He had, as it were, tossed a fateful coin for us, and left it at that.

  As it was, we got out a couple of lanterns and lit them, and then I led my companions to the boathouse. It was just about visible and anyway, Brockley immediately tripped over the slipway. Even in total darkness, we could have followed that. As far as I could tell, from kneeling down to feel it, it consisted of wooden rollers, fastened together as if they were the rungs of a ladder, but lying flat, over a stone-lined trench, so that there was space below the rollers, to let them revolve. It was only a few yards long, and then we were in front of the boathouse. My lantern beam at once caught the letter which Bones had nailed to its door. It looked different somehow from the letter I had written out, and then I saw that another paragraph, in a different hand, had been added before the crew had signed it.

 

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