Cat O'Nine Tales

by Julia Golding

  ‘Later!’ Pedro laughed, packing his violin away.

  We headed towards the waterfront, shouldering our way through the parties of seamen on shore leave. I stuck close to Joseph, not wishing to attract any unwelcome attention.

  ‘Any idea where the Courageous is tied up?’ Frank asked his cousin.

  Mr Dixon was clearly feeling no more at ease than I. He kept looking nervously over his shoulder. ‘I think it put in for repairs so it’ll be in the shipyard. Down here, if my memory serves me well.’ He pointed to a dark alley, a filthy gutter running down the middle of the cobbles. Not good.

  ‘Isn’t there another way?’ I asked, catching his sleeve.

  ‘Probably, but I don’t know it if there is.’ He took my hand and guided me around a black puddle. ‘Do not fear, Miss Royal, we will protect you.’

  I tried to put my faith in his chivalrous attention, but I knew something was wrong as soon as we left the main thoroughfare. My city-bred instincts were screaming that this was a bad idea.

  ‘Let’s go back.’ I made to pull away but my gallant defender had my arm linked through his. Joseph hovered at my shoulder, waiting for the command to retreat. Frank and Pedro hesitated behind him.

  ‘We’re almost there,’ Mr Dixon said, tugging me forward resolutely. ‘Courage, Miss Royal, courage!’

  As I stumbled on, a group of men appeared out of the shadows in front of us. Footsteps approached at speed from behind. Joseph cursed and took up a defensive stance at the rear; Frank moved to my unprotected side, Pedro beside him.

  ‘Run!’ I shouted. It was our best chance of escape.

  Mr Dixon started forward, throwing himself between me and the cudgel-wielding thug in front of us, but was knocked back into a doorway. I rushed to help him, but he slumped to the ground, clutching his stomach. Then he raised his hands to me – they were covered in blood. I screamed as someone wrenched me away, breaking Mr Dixon’s grip on my skirt. My upbringing took over. A kick to the shins – and to somewhere else – and my surprised assailant grunted, falling back against the brick wall. I glanced about me to find out what had happened to the rest of my party. Joseph was out cold, sprawled on the ground as two bullies grappled with Frank. Pedro was fighting like a tiger with a bow-legged Chinaman, using his violin case to hit the man over the head. I charged into the biggest of Frank’s attackers, only to bounce off the mountain of muscle.

  ‘Go, Cat!’ shouted Frank, head caught in an armlock. ‘Get help!’

  I picked myself up and made a dash for the end of the alleyway, dodging past two men, before running smack into the fist of a third.

  2 Shame on him who thinks evil.

  ACT II

  SCENE 1 – COURAGEOUS

  I came to with my head in someone’s lap. It was still dark – at least, wherever I lay was pitch black. The whole place seemed to be swaying, but that might only have been the after-effects of the blow. There was a strange smell in the air: tar mixed with stagnant water. I felt sick.

  ‘She’s coming round!’

  There was scuffling around me and someone put a cup to my lips.

  ‘Try and drink this.’ I recognized Pedro’s voice.

  ‘Where am I?’ I whispered.

  ‘On a ship,’ said Pedro tersely. ‘The press gang got us. We’re waiting to see someone so we can straighten this mess out.’

  ‘What they’re doing bringing a girl on board, I don’t know!’ That was Frank. ‘But don’t worry: Joseph or Will must’ve raised the alarm by now.’

  ‘How long have I been out?’ My memory was slowly returning.

  ‘Hours. You took a nasty blow to the head,’ explained Pedro.

  ‘Is it me, or are we at sea?’

  Pedro sighed. ‘They set sail immediately after we were thrown aboard. It’s common to keep press-ganged men below until there’s no hope of escape. We expect they’ll come and check on us soon and discover their mistake.’

  ‘Are you both all right?’ I asked. I felt my face gingerly in the dark: my left eye was closed by swelling. I must have one ugly blackeye.

  ‘A few bruises, that’s all,’ said Frank. He reached out and stroked my hair. ‘You had us worried there, Cat.’

  Suddenly, it all came back. ‘But Mr Dixon! He was covered in blood – stabbed in the stomach.’

  ‘What?’ Frank exclaimed in horror.

  ‘Yes, he collapsed in a doorway. I tried to reach him but they pulled me away.’

  Frank gave an agonized groan. ‘This is all my fault: I should never’ve let him come – nor you!’

  I tried to sit up, but I was feeling wretched. My head ached as if it had been split in two. ‘But they can’t keep us here: you’re a peer of the realm. And as for me, I’m obviously not fit material for the crew.’

  ‘You’re right. We’ve got to get back to Bristol at once and find Will. Dear God, I hope he’s not too badly injured!’ Frank beat his fist on the planks of the bulkhead in anger. ‘Someone’s going to pay for this!’

  I didn’t want to say any more to Frank, but from the amount of blood I’d seen, it looked to me like a serious wound. Few men recover from belly cuts, and death was usually slow and painful. Yes, we had to get back to him as soon as possible.

  But nobody came. Hours passed. I fell into a fitful doze, seasickness fighting to gain the upper hand of misery from my headache. Pedro and Frank looked after me as best they could, but they were suffering too. When I touched Pedro, I could feel him shaking. I was afraid that being locked up in this dark hold had brought back bad memories of his time aboard a slave ship. Frank could hardly contain his rage: he was not used to being treated like this. Duke’s sons don’t as a rule get press-ganged like common folk.

  As I lay there, listening to the creaking of the timbers and slosh of water not far below, I tried to piece together what had happened. I couldn’t understand why they had taken me, obviously no able-bodied landsman. And why leave Joseph if they were after men? Had he been badly injured too? And Frank, so clearly a gentleman, not press gang fodder. None of it made sense.

  A rattling at the door announced that we were about to get some answers. As it creaked open, we were dazzled by the light of a lantern. The door slammed shut again and a man stumped forward, holding the light up to each of us in turn.

  ‘Still alive then, eh?’ he grunted.

  Frank stood up, crackling with anger. ‘Now just what do you think you’re doing holding us down here? I’m the Earl of Arden, son of the Duke of Avon. You made a big mistake when you laid hands on me!’

  The man just chuckled. He had a cruel face marked by a shiny burn running down his cheek to his neck.

  ‘And as for taking this lady on board: you’ve got some explaining to do to your captain.’

  ‘I see no lady,’ growled the seaman. ‘I just see three new recruits for the Courageous. Welcome aboard, shipmates.’

  ‘Is this a joke?’ I asked, struggling to my feet and pointedly shaking out my skirts. ‘If so I find it in very poor taste.’

  ‘I demand to see the captain,’ declared Frank.

  ‘Nah, you don’t,’ said the man.

  ‘You can’t stop me!’

  ‘Can too.’ The sailor sat down on a barrel and threw a bundle on the planks in front of us. ‘You don’t get it, do you?’

  ‘Get what?’ Frank seethed.

  ‘Haven’t you heard? Your girl here is wanted for the attempted murder of a Mr William Dixon. She’s also thought to have done away with that Duke’s son you mentioned; at any rate, he’s feared lost, dumped in the river, most like.’

  ‘M-me? I’m supposed to have done this?’ I stammered.

  The sailor held up the lamp to my dress. ‘See? The evidence’s all over her.’

  I looked down. You could make out the bloody hand print where Mr Dixon had clasped my skirt.

  ‘But that’s preposterous!’ exclaimed Frank. ‘I’m the Duke of Avon’s son; Cat had nothing to do with the attack on Mr Dixon – that was the press gang.’


  ‘The press gang don’t go laying unlawful hands on young lords. No, that was her and her accomplices, or so the Bristol magistrate thinks. He’s moving heaven and earth to capture her. The papers will be full of it by now – how his lordship’s cousin used his last words to gasp her name before he passed out from his injuries.’

  I couldn’t believe it. How could anyone think I’d do such a thing to one of my best friends? With a horrid sinking feeling, I then realized that it was all too likely. How often had I been told by Billy that few people believed my friendship with the Avons to be genuine? Perhaps they were all waiting for something like this to happen?

  Pedro stepped forward to face our captor. ‘What do you want? Money? How much?’

  ‘Ah, at least one of you has your wits about you,’ nodded the sailor. ‘Quicker off the mark than these two, ain’t you, slave boy? But don’t you worry, I’m already well paid for my trouble. Get the young lord out of the country, that’s what I was told. Not a knife in the ribs then? Nah, he’s too squeamish for that. Get him away and keep him quiet, he says. People will all too easily think the worst of his low friends and blame them. Then let nature take its course. It’s a dangerous life at sea.’ Our tormentor sat back, clearly pleased with this last speech.

  ‘But I won’t keep quiet,’ snarled Frank. ‘Not after this treatment!’

  ‘Aye, you will. Or else I hand her over to Captain Barton.’ The man jerked his head at me.

  ‘So?’ Frank tilted his head back, in bearing every inch the lord.

  ‘Not heard of Captain Barton, lad? Barmy Barton, we call him, but not to his face. Not a kind man, our captain: rumour has it he’s pursued by demons from his past; they drive him fair mad. Makes him angry too. Finds a fugitive on board, wanted for murder, and what you think he’ll do? He’ll not bother to lose time and go back to a British port. No, it’ll be a summary judgement and execution; it’s his ship: he has the power and he likes using it. Ask the hands who saw him hang those men at Gibraltar. Best day of his life, he said.’

  I shuddered.

  ‘I’ll tell him who I am, prove she is innocent. You can’t expect to get away with this,’ said Frank, putting his arm protectively round my shoulders.

  ‘Aye, that I do. Look at the state of you – no one will believe you are a lord.’ It was true: Frank’s clothes were ripped and filthy from the fight. ‘They’ll think you’re in it with her, fleeing the scene of the crime. And you’d not risk letting them think otherwise – for if I see so much as one of you lads sniffing around the officers, bleating your story, then she’ll suffer. Just think how easy it’ll be for me to snuff out a little life like hers; there are knives and ropes aplenty. Or maybe she’ll just disappear one dark night. Splash over the side and goodbye.’

  I was beginning to feel panic-stricken. He wasn’t intending to keep me here awaiting my death, locked up in the dark throughout the long months of the voyage, was he? I’d go mad.

  ‘I beg you, sir, don’t leave me down here. Let me be with my friends,’ I choked out.

  ‘Aw, a sweet little thing, isn’t she?’ said the sailor, turning to Frank and Pedro, both of whom were looking sick with fear. ‘Worth protecting, don’t you think? Now don’t you fret, lass, that’s all thought of. You can’t stay here.’

  ‘Then let me go; put me ashore somewhere before I’m discovered!’

  ‘Nah, no need. I’ve been told you’re no lady, for all your fine clothes. “She’s a nobody,” he said. “Got way above her station.”’

  I was trembling with terror and rage.

  ‘Who’s this man you speak of?’ I spat. ‘It’s that sewer rat Shepherd, isn’t it? He paid you to do this?’

  Frank squeezed my shoulders in warning. ‘It might not be him,’ he murmured.

  The tirade died on my tongue. Frank was right. I was used to thinking of Shepherd as the enemy but why would he bother to keep us alive? Yet if it wasn’t him, then who? The person who stood most to gain from getting Frank out the way was Mr Dixon. But he was like a brother and, anyway, why plot an attack in which you get yourself murdered? It made no sense. That left jealous suitors and vengeful mothers. Frank had made himself a number of enemies of late – any one of them could be behind this outrage.

  The sailor leant forward conspiratorially, snagging a fistful of my straggling hair to pull me towards him. ‘Your well-wisher said he wants you taught a lesson and I have the very thing. Do you want to hear it?’

  I shook my head mutely.

  ‘You’re going to hear it, like it or not. I was told you like dressing up when the fancy takes you, think it rare sport. As it happens, I need a new cabin boy since the last one died of fever. So get changed. You too, lads.’ He kicked the bundle towards us. Pedro knelt down to open it: it had three sets of sailors’ clothes: loose trousers, short jackets and caps.

  I’d had more than my fill of pretending to be a boy at Frank’s school.

  ‘I can’t! I won’t!’ I protested.

  My answer was a blow from the back of his hand that sent me reeling. I fell to the floor, my lip bleeding. Frank started forward to strike back, but Pedro caught him by the jacket.

  ‘That’s right, son, keep him quiet,’ the sailor laughed softly. ‘I see you understand. Any more of that and it’ll be the worse for her. She’s the purser’s boy from now onwards, somewhat prone to wild imaginings but no one on board will take her tales seriously once I warn them of my lad’s fanciful nature. And you two will stay well away from her.’

  There seemed nothing else for it. If he was telling the truth, I was standing with Mr Dixon’s blood on my skirt, wanted for murder. If Frank tried to clear my name, our captor would kill me instantly. Any way you looked at it, the prospect was bleak. Our enemy had trapped us into taking on the roles he wanted in this little drama of betrayal and humiliation, and I couldn’t for the moment see an end to it. Yet it was also clear that we had no choice if we wanted to stay alive a little longer. I crawled to the bundle and picked out the smallest of the jackets.

  ‘At least have the decency to turn your back,’ I said, fighting back a sob. I wasn’t going to let the sailor report back to our enemy that I was broken so easily.

  The three of them looked away as I changed. I then stared at the bulkhead as Frank and Pedro followed my example.

  ‘Come here,’ the sailor said, beckoning me forward. ‘Turn around.’ He grasped my hair and yanked it back into a sailor’s pigtail. ‘Now you look the part.’ Then, sweeping up our clothes, he called over his shoulder: ‘Follow me, girl. You two, up on deck. Captain Barton wants to meet the new hands. And remember, not a word or you’ll never see your little sweetheart here again. See, if there’s no girl, there’s no proof any of this happened, so don’t even think of trying to outwit me.’ Resting a big hand on my neck, he gave them an evil grin and watched them climb out of sight.

  Alone for the first time, the sailor seemed less at ease. I guess his manner had been an act to convince Frank and Pedro he had everything under control, but he was obviously aware of the personal risk he was taking smuggling us aboard. In a hurry now, he led me up several steep ladders to the upper gun deck. The big open space that housed the cannon, as well as accommodating many of the men, was empty just now – everyone appeared to be outside.

  ‘We don’t have long,’ he said, showing me into a canvas-sided cabin in what I was to learn to call the bow, or front part of the ship. ‘You’re to sling your hammock and attend to any woman’s business in here.’ He pulled at the scarf tied round his neck, embarrassed to talk of such matters. ‘It’s in your own interests to keep yourself to yourself – safer for your friends and for you. If anyone asks, you say you’re my apprentice, Jimmy Brown, got that?’

  I nodded, too afraid to do anything else.

  ‘You’ll join the starboard watch; your friends’ll be in the larboard so you won’t be seeing any of them. In between other duties, you come back here, understand?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He rai
sed his hand threateningly. ‘You say, “Aye, aye, Mr Maclean.”’

  I swallowed. ‘Aye, aye, Mr Maclean.’

  ‘One of your main duties will be to help me with the stores. That means you’ll be spending a lot of time down in the hold out of sight. Got that?’

  ‘Aye, sir.’

  My new ‘master’ pushed me in the small of the back, firing off orders and information as we went. ‘You’ll join my mess. We eat with the carpenter, the bosun, the sawbones, the gunner and his wife.’

  ‘The gunner has a wife?’ That sounded hopeful; perhaps another woman would take pity on me?

  ‘Don’t get any ideas: you’re to keep away from the doxies.’ He pushed his way past the rolls of hammocks swinging from hooks on the bulkhead. ‘And you’ll find you’re not the only female on board – far from it. But you’re the only one who’ll appear on the roll as a boy, which’ll get you your ration. I’m not sharing mine.’ A bell rang. ‘We’d better hurry up and show our faces on deck.’

  Having reached the hatch, I climbed the first rung of the ladder before he grabbed me round the neck and pulled me back. He was very on edge.

  ‘I’ll be watching you,’ he growled, face thrust in mine, ‘every moment, every day, got it? If you give your true identity away by a careless look or gesture, then you’re dead.’ He was choking me. I tugged at his fingers. ‘Got it?’

  ‘Yes,’ I gasped. ‘Aye, aye, sir.’

  ‘Good.’

  With that, he stumped up the ladder. I scrambled after him, feeling light-headed. I could barely see out of my left eye, my lip was split, I felt sick and shaky, but if he believed he had broken me in already, he had another thing coming. He didn’t know Cat Royal. I was biding my time, trying to work out who our enemy was and what we could do about it. For lack of alternatives with a face or name known to me, my mind had already circled back to the obvious conclusion. It was surely no coincidence that it had been Billy Shepherd who sent us to the Honest Tar. As for being squeamish about bloodshed, pehaps Billy was just baulking at breaking his word to me that he was not plotting to harm Frank. Perhaps.