Mistress Below Deck

by Helen Dickson

  Rowena saw the way his jaw had clenched and his lips were clamped in a thin white line. His hands were clenched in fists by his sides and his eyes were hard, with an expression that was hard to define. The sun shone through the window full on to his face, giving his bronzed flesh a golden glow, and it seemed he could not speak.

  At last he did. ‘Did you see him again after that?’

  ‘No. He left Falmouth that same day. Tobias, nothing would please me more than to go with you after that beast, but I hope you understand that Jane must be my priority. If she reaches Meknes and is forced to convert to Muslim, she will become lost to her family for ever. That is what you said.’

  ‘I did. There can be no ransom—and nor can a convert expect to be set free by his owner, as many converts wrongly assume—especially when that owner happens to be Moulay Ismail.’

  ‘Will you promise me something?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘When we have freed Jane—because I am determined that we shall—will you go after Mason, find him and make him pay for what he did to you?’

  Grimly pressing his lips together, Tobias nodded and left the cabin, more determined that ever to find Mason. He would take care of that monster, not just for the men who had perished on his ship, but for Rowena also.

  * * *

  The Cymbeline ran within sight of the North African coast, sailing west. They passed Tangier, an abandoned English outpost, and continued unhindered through the straits, turning south to Sale, regardless of the hopes and fears the Cymbeline carried with her.

  Rowena could have been forgiven if she lost her nerve on her first sight of Sale, which occupied a commanding position on the north bank of the Bou Regreg river estuary. With its rocky shoreline, this was a dangerous, well-fortified nest of corsairs. Its massive forbidding walls, turreted battlements and towers and green-glazed minarets that sparkled beneath the North African sun were visible from far out to sea. Each side of the river estuary had been enclosed by stout battlements, and two castles bristled with cannon fronting the sea, hinting at the menacing threat within the walls of Sale.

  On account of little depth of water, vessels of large burden could not enter the harbour and were obliged to wait for high tide before they could nudge further in shore. The Cymbeline’s anchor was dropped outside the shifting sandbar that provided Sale with a defence from the sea.

  Tobias came to stand beside Rowena at the rail. ‘Were I not aware of what this place is like, I would say Sale looks quite enchanting,’ she murmured, without turning to look at him, brushing her hair from her face. It was so windy she had to hold her hat on to stop it blowing off.

  ‘I suppose it does, but the only difference to its counterparts in other North African cities is that the slave markets—which at one time were the largest and most profitable in North Africa—have undergone great changes since Moulay Ismail came to power. One of the first things he did was to close the slave market—not out of kindness, but because he wants to keep all the slaves for himself.’

  ‘When do you intend going ashore?’ she asked, gazing at the city beyond the great walls with a great deal of fear and apprehension.

  ‘Shortly.’

  ‘Where will you begin looking for Suleiman?’

  ‘Among the city’s merchants. They will tell me if he is still in Sale. If he has left, I shall find out when and follow.’

  ‘Is it a long journey to Meknes?’

  ‘About four days.’

  ‘About the ransom, Tobias. Do you have the kind of money Suleiman will demand?’

  He nodded. ‘Rest assured that I shall take enough with me to cover the ransom.’

  ‘I can’t thank you enough. I will pay you back, I promise.’

  He grinned and there was a devilish glint in his eyes. ‘I know you will. If not in money, then in kind. Be sure I shall insist on it. I am eager to do well in your service, Rowena, and receive my reward.’

  Rowena’s breath caught in her throat. The gleam in his eyes made her body turn warm and melting and her cheeks flushed, but she was determined to remain in control. It was too important for her to lose her wits now.

  Tobias smiled into her eyes. ‘You do remember?’ he said softly. ‘I want you to enjoy me as much as I will enjoy you.’

  The flush on her cheeks deepened. ‘Believe me when I say that if matters had stood otherwise, I would never have dreamed of making such a bargain.’

  ‘Twice,’ he reminded her smoothly.

  She looked at him askance. ‘It’s becoming something of a habit,’ she retorted drily.

  He grinned. ‘A habit I approve of. If we go on like this, my sweet,’ he murmured softly, ‘your prospective bridegroom is going to have to do without you in his bed indefinitely.’

  ‘He probably will anyway. I don’t expect him to marry me after what I’ve done.’

  Tobias’s eyes narrowed and a strange, almost secretive smile curved his lips. ‘You don’t know that for certain. He might surprise you.’

  Rowena sighed and gazed across the choppy water to the city beyond the high walls. ‘I don’t have your faith, Tobias. I fully expect him to have withdrawn his offer when I get back to Falmouth. Have you been to Sale before?’

  ‘Once—some years ago,’ he told her, the smile vanishing from his lips. ‘I exchanged a cargo of woollens and silver for silk and ivory and other commodities brought in by desert caravans from central Africa. I felt the menace of Sale then, and had no wish to return in a hurry.’ He pushed himself away from the rail. ‘I must speak to Mark before I go ashore. Whatever happens, I want the ship to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.’

  ‘I’ll go below and get my sandals.’ Rowena had taken to walking about the ship bare footed, but she would find it rough going without her sandals on land.

  ‘Why? Are you going somewhere?’

  ‘With you.’

  Undecided, he frowned. ‘I’d rather you didn’t.’

  Her expression was mutinous. ‘Don’t tell me what to do, Tobias Searle. Jane is my sister and I am coming with you. If you should find her, she’s going to need me.’

  ‘Very well, but have no illusions. It’s going to be difficult securing Jane’s release—if we find her. There are also corsair vessels all around us, and they have a fierce hatred of Christians. What is more to the point, when we have secured Jane’s release we have to leave this place without delay.’

  ‘Of course. I understand.’

  ‘And as for leaving me to pursue Mason and trying to acquire passage back to England on another vessel, forget it. Alone, you and your sister would be like lambs in the lion’s den. Jane would be recaptured, and you, and then neither I nor anyone else will be able to get you out of the sultan’s harem. What I am about to do will be dangerous. I want to know you are safe on the Cymbeline.’

  ‘But we can’t go into the city by ourselves.’

  ‘I don’t intend to. I’ll take two of the crew. Even so we may have trouble.’

  They were so intent on focusing their sights on the town that they failed to see the vessel appear out of the sun, bearing down on Sale under her full spread of canvas, a tall white billowing pyramid. The captain of the corsair ship, dressed in an immaculate white gown edged with crimson and gold braid, stood at the bow. He placed the spy glass to his eye, playing his sight over every part of the Cymbeline, before coming to rest on the pennant fluttering sprightly from its masthead—the bold bright gold S curled round the letter T against a crimson background. Then, with a smile that would have disturbed the Cymbeline’s master, he ordered the captives to be made ready to be taken ashore.

  Chapter Eight

  Since getting out of the boat, Rowena felt she needed another pair of eyes to take everything in. Sheep, donkeys, mules and a few nonchalant camels carrying all manner of things on their backs wandered about among the crowd. The streets and alleys were hot, dusty and chaotic. They were also filthy and full of rubbish and flies and scavenging dogs. She found it claustrophobic, th
e stench appalling.

  This, then, was Sale, hopefully the end of her crazy journey undertaken against all better judgement, but how was Tobias to find Suleiman in this intricate network of streets and alleys? Sensing a powerful need to stave off the discouragement that had followed hard on the heels of triumph on reaching Sale without mishap, Rowena closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer to God, fervently beseeching him to take pity on her sister and allow her to be returned to them.

  A hand gently touching her shoulder made her open her eyes. She saw Tobias looking at her intently.

  ‘Do not forget where you are,’ he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear. ‘It is reckless to pray out in the open. This is a country of infidels with not a church or a chapel in sight—nothing but mosques where these miscreants pray to Allah. If anyone were to see you, we would all be doomed.’

  ‘Forgive me. I had forgotten. Do you know where to go?’ she asked, finding his nearness reassuring.

  The two crew members, like Tobias armed with pistols and sword, stayed close together.

  ‘I know where the merchant lives that I dealt with when I was here last. It isn’t far from here.’

  Aware of a great commotion, of voices raised, hostile voices, some louder than others, they paused to look behind them. Rowena stared at a procession—a wretched band of Europeans herded together, coming towards them along the street that wound between white-washed houses. She was so appalled at the sight her eyes beheld that she gasped and flattened herself against the wall to let them pass by.

  They were being jeered at and cursed by the locals, and stones were thrown, some hitting their targets with accurate, painful precision. There were about fifty of these pitiful captives, bruised and barefoot, a large iron ring riveted to the ankle of each man. A long heavy chain was attached to the rings, which the slaves were obliged to drag behind them. Their heads were bowed, their expression all sad terror, bewilderment and apprehension.

  When they had shuffled by, Rowena stayed frozen to the spot. Even Tobias stood staring after them.

  ‘Poor things,’ Rowena whispered, her face beneath the floppy brim of her hat shadowed by a deep sorrow. ‘To be treated like that. God save them. Those men guarding them are savages—the devil’s own. Where are they being taken?’

  ‘To the matamores—a worse place you cannot imagine.’

  ‘What are they?’

  ‘Underground cells, subterranean hell holes, where they are kept before being taken to Meknes. But come. Try not to dwell on what you have seen. It will not change anything.’

  Tobias went on his way, but feeling a cold sensation on the back of her neck, Rowena turned and looked back. Her eyes beheld a tall man standing in the shadows watching her. He looked austere and stood so still he could have been a stone statue. Dressed in a white robe and black turban, the only part of him she could see was his inscrutable eyes.

  Her heart missed a beat and her lips grew dry. The moment was taut with tension. She felt she would suffocate for a moment and recalled a sudden flash of memory—a long-forgotten scene of being dragged off her horse—and a warning shiver seemed to run through the now quiet street like a cat’s paw.

  Suddenly the man moved and seemed to melt into the shadows, as if he were part of them, and she shivered, feeling a sinister, ill-omened cloud flit over her mind. Telling herself she was seeing and imagining things, she spun on her heel and hurried after Tobias.

  After traversing more streets, Tobias led them into one in which some of the wealthy merchants of the city lived. There were no dung heaps here and flowering creepers trailed over trellising. Tobias stopped in front of a solid door set in a high wall. It opened when he knocked to reveal a servant, a Moor in a white robe and black turban. Tobias spoke to him in Arabic, and the servant ushered them inside an inner courtyard and garden, with exotic blooms everywhere and roses and sweet-scented jasmine climbing the walls.

  ‘Wait here while I speak to the merchant,’ Tobias told them, following the servant into the house.

  * * *

  To Rowena the waiting was interminable. When he reappeared his face was drawn and his eyes troubled.

  ‘What is it, Tobias? What is wrong?’ she asked, unable to still her fears. ‘What did the merchant tell you?’

  ‘Suleiman left for Meknes two days ago.’

  Rowena stood motionless, as if turned to stone, her face pale and stricken. ‘But—that’s terrible,’ she gasped, anguish suddenly catching in her throat. ‘What should we do?’

  ‘Right now we must get back to the ship.’

  ‘But—you can’t mean that. You told me that if Jane had left Sale you would follow—and now you are talking about going back to the ship. This is not the time to give in. We have to do something.’

  The pain in her voice cut Tobias as sharply as a knife.

  Her words ran on, spilling from her as if only by giving them voice could she exorcise the terror that gripped her. He longed to take her in his arms and soothe her as he would a frightened child, but with two of his crew looking on, he could not.

  ‘We will find her—no matter how long it takes or how large the cost. You must believe that, but if we are to go to Meknes, the journey has to be prepared for. We must have transport—horses or mules—and food.’

  Rowena nodded, trying to still her terror and remain calm, though it was nigh impossible. ‘When will we be able to leave?’

  ‘If I can have everything arranged, in the morning at first light. I’ll take you back to the ship and then I will return. The merchant has offered to help in the way of horses—providing I promise to return to Sale in the future with a cargo of wool and other English goods he has a fancy for,’ he added drily. ‘So come. We are wasting time.’

  Rowena returned to the Cymbeline without being aware of anything around her. Her anguished mind quavered inside her and her heart turned over as the fear that she might never see her sister again, that Jane would be condemned to spending the rest of her life as an object of pleasure for a rich and powerful sultan, overtook her.

  * * *

  On reaching the ship and after speaking to Mark, Tobias was rowed back to shore. As Rowena watched him go, Mark came to stand beside her.

  ‘I hope he will be all right,’ she whispered. ‘He should have taken someone with him.’

  ‘Tobias can take care of himself. Try not to worry. He’ll be back before you know it.’

  Rowena looked at him, her concern for Tobias there in her eyes for Mark to see. ‘I hope so. I really don’t want anything to happen to him on my account. I could never forgive myself. He has told you that we are to travel to Meknes.’

  Mark nodded, his expression grim. ‘It is a journey that may well be fraught with every kind of danger. Tobias is concerned about you and doesn’t want to place you in unnecessary danger.’

  The absurdity of this was such that Rowena laughed. ‘How can that be? He cares nothing for me.’

  ‘Is that so? No man risks life and limb and those of his crew for a woman he cares nothing for,’ he murmured with absolute conviction. ‘Why not let Tobias go alone and stay with the ship? You will be safer here.’

  ‘No. My mind is made up. I will go with him. But will the ship be safe here in Sale—with all those corsairs and all those cannon breathing fire and shot down your neck? Is there not a strong possibility of you being attacked when attention is drawn to a European vessel in Sale’s waters?’

  ‘They know we’re here and, no, I doubt there will be trouble. To make sure of this, Tobias has gone to make contact with the ruling divan. Hopefully he will be greeted with courtesy. Merchantmen from all over Europe have suffered at the hands of the corsairs at one time or another and will continue to suffer until something is done to clear them from the seas. Some countries pay the corsairs an agreed amount to leave their ships alone, whilst the British and Dutch East India companies pay a levy and treat it the same as normal shipping insurance.’

  ‘Does Tobias?’

  H
e nodded. ‘In the long run it’s worth it.’

  Rowena’s curiosity about Mark Dexter got the better of her. ‘You said you have been to Sale before. I sense it was not of your own volition, Mr Dexter.’

  His expression hardened and something dark entered his eyes. ‘No. Far from it. I was sailing to Genoa when the ship I was on was attacked by corsairs. I was taken captive—along with twenty of my comrades and brought to Sale. It was hell,’ he added hoarsely.

  ‘What happened? Did you escape?’

  ‘There is no escape from Sale.’

  ‘The ship—was it one of Tobias’s?’

  ‘His father’s. I was but a youth at the time. He came and paid the ransom for me and those of his crew who were still alive. He was a fine man. I shall be for ever in his debt.’

  Rowena’s gaze riveted on the bright blue boat carrying Tobias to shore and, despite everything, an aching lump of tears swelled in her throat. It was disquieting to dwell on the knowledge that she could care for him. ‘In his debt,’ she whispered. ‘If Tobias helps me find my sister that is exactly how I shall feel.’

  As she closed the door behind her a gnawing disquiet crept over her. Of late she had begun to think of Tobias far too much and now those illusions were beginning to spill over and consume her. She sat on the bed in dismal meditations, and though she tried to banish him from her thoughts and think of Jane, her mind spun on aimlessly. Suddenly her fear for Jane had shifted to Tobias. Her concern for him was immense and she did not even dare think what she would do if he did not come back.

  * * *

  Later, anxious for his safety, she went into the main cabin and in a woman’s way tidied the table and whatever else her eyes lighted on. Tobias’s jerkin lay over the back of a chair. Picking it up, she trailed her fingers over the soft leather, savouring the manly smell that filled her head. The barest hint of a smile played across her lips, and her eyes glowed with a warmth she could not explain.