‘Thank you. Yes, I’ll take your advice.’ A relaxing bath, some food, then a visit to his wife. He would overcome her reluctance, somehow. Yes, that was what he would do. The dream had unsettled him, that was all. No woman had the power to make him miserable. He wouldn’t allow it.
Chapter Nine
Plymouth, Devon, 29th June 1611
The Plymouth quayside was shrouded in a fog as thick as pease pottage, which blanketed the streets and muffled all sounds. Hannah thanked God for its protection, but shivered at the eeriness of it all the same.
There was something about fog which made her feel unreal, as if she was walking through a dream world. A nightmare even. She didn’t like it. The swirling mass came rolling in from the sea, drifting this way and that. The wisps of moisture seemed to be possessed by restless spirits, reaching out their insubstantial claws to grab at passers-by. She muttered a swift prayer to ward off any evil.
Hannah knew Edward’s clothes fitted her tolerably well, but it felt strange to be wearing boys’ garments. Added to this, the pair of old knee-length boots, which he had recently outgrown, were slightly too big. Compared to walking with a long skirt her legs were wonderfully unrestricted, although the breeches chafed in places she wouldn’t normally notice. She ignored the discomfort and lengthened her stride to what she hoped was a more manly one.
As Hannah rounded a corner and turned onto the main thoroughfare, a flesh and blood hand shot out of the darkness. It pulled her into the shadows before she had time to protest, and she cried out in fright. Her heart leapt into her throat and her stomach turned to ice.
‘Lookin’ for a good time, lad? It won’t cost you much, seein’ as how it’s prob’ly yer first time.’ The voice was silky, but the hand that held her was a hard vice clamped around her wrist, dragging her inexorably closer. ‘I like first-timers, I do …’ A cackle of laughter erupted near Hannah’s left ear and she was hauled towards a massive bosom. The overwhelming stench of some flowery scent, coupled with the woman’s own body odour and fetid breath, was almost too much for Hannah. She gagged and gasped for breath.
‘No, leave me be!’ Hannah panicked and fear gave her added strength so that she managed to free herself from the grasp. She took to her heels and ran without looking back, the cackling ringing in her ears. She had known being abroad at night wouldn’t be easy, but she thought that by dressing as a boy she would be spared unwanted attention. It had never occurred to her she’d be propositioned by the ladies of the night. Obviously, her disguise worked better than she had thought.
Hannah stayed as far away from the lights of the taverns as possible and kept to the shadows where she hoped no one else would notice her. None of the shops were open and the only people about were drunken sailors wending their way from one alehouse to the next, singing raucously. Hannah made sure to keep well away from them.
‘Oi, there!’ The shout coming from somewhere behind made her jump and scuttle into a doorway. Her heart lodged in her throat again, but she soon realised the man hadn’t meant her. His call was answered by another. She heaved a sigh of relief and continued on her way, hefting her bundle up on one shoulder.
‘I can’t turn back now,’ she muttered. ‘I’ve come this far.’ But it was only by sheer will-power that she managed to put one foot in front of the other. Her conscience screamed at her to end this madness and turn back. She clenched her jaw in determination and carried on towards her goal. The alternative – marriage to Mr Hesketh – didn’t bear thinking of.
During the day, the port was a bustling hive of activity and whenever Hannah ventured down there she was almost deafened by the noise. Traders cried their wares from stalls or shop doorways and sweating dockers loaded or unloaded cargo while calling to one another. Among the crowds, sailors of all nationalities could be heard shouting to each other in unintelligible languages. Porters carried baskets or scurried by pushing barrows, yelling for people to get out of their way. Merchants and their customers discussed deals in loud voices. Now, they were all gone and Hannah could hear her solitary footsteps echoing loudly on the cobbles. It was as if she was in a different place altogether.
She reached the far end of the harbour at last. Two ships, the Elizabetta and the Sea Sprite, lay anchored side by side here, barely visible through the clouds of fog that drifted silently over the water. Their shadowy bulks moved slowly up and down, cradled by the sea. Hannah could hear the creaking of ropes and the protesting squeak of the block and tackle. The smell of tar and caulking invaded her nostrils, as well as the salty tang of the sea. She had lived in Plymouth all her life, and there was nothing unfamiliar about these sights and sounds. Except for the fact that she had never encountered them in the dark of night before of course.
Both ships had been chartered by her father for this venture to the other side of the world. It was a journey of such magnitude that Hannah could barely imagine it. Two more ships, anchored at the other end of the harbour, would be joining them as well, she knew.
‘We’re going beyond the sunset,’ Jacob had joked when Hannah had dared to ask how far he was travelling. It seemed a very apt description to her.
Jacob was to captain one of the ships – although she wasn’t sure which one – and Hannah was determined to go with him. She would be safe with Jacob. Captain Rydon was in charge of the other ship and since Jacob was in command on this voyage, Hannah assumed he would have the larger vessel. Accordingly, she made her way cautiously towards the Sea Sprite and crouched behind some barrels on the quay. From this vantage point, she observed the ships in silence for some time.
‘You need to be ruthless if you wish to prosper.’ Her father’s words echoed through her mind now as Hannah peered out from her hiding place. She was certainly following his advice, but she doubted very much he would approve of her doings this night. It was one thing to urge a son to go out into the world, but daughters were meant to stay at home.
‘Well I won’t,’ she muttered rebelliously. ‘Not if it means I have to marry Mr Hesketh.’
The Sea Sprite lay in darkness except for a single lantern, which appeared to be moving around somewhere near the quarter deck. The man carrying the light walked around the perimeter of the ship, obviously checking that all was in order. Other than this, no one stirred either on deck or on land. She couldn’t believe her good fortune. Where was everyone?
When the man retraced his steps, Hannah took her chance. She grabbed her bundle and crept towards the gangplank. It wobbled slightly as she scurried up and onto the ship’s deck, but she made it across safely. The sound of footsteps echoed in the stillness of the night and she hid behind a thick mast, trying to make herself as thin as possible.
‘Who’s there?’
The gruff voice was terrifyingly close. For a heart-stopping moment Hannah waited for the man to discover her presence, but he didn’t. Instead she heard his footsteps retreating while he muttered imprecations under his breath. Hannah waited for what seemed an eternity, hardly daring to breathe. Finally she deemed the coast to be clear and headed for the main hatch down to the storage area at the bottom of the ship.
Hannah had been on enough of her father’s ships to know her way around perfectly. Without mishap, she made it down below deck and stood still for a while to listen once again. She couldn’t detect the sounds of any other human beings, only the faint slapping noise of the waves outside. The stale air below deck made her recoil slightly. The odours of unwashed bodies and foul substances assailed her, but she soon became used to it.
Her eyes accustomed themselves to the darkness and in a nearby corner she made out the shape of a bucket. Hannah helped herself to it, knowing it would come in useful during the next few days. I should have thought of that before. Then she continued further down into the hold, shuddering as the darkness enfolded her. The various shapes of the cargo loomed all around her – crates, kegs, sacks and barrels. It was unbelievable that such valuable goods were not being better guarded, she thought, but perhaps all the sailo
rs had wanted to take this opportunity to enjoy their last night in port. Or perhaps they just slept deeply and she’d been lucky not to wake them. Either way, she sent up a prayer of thanks.
Something brushed against her leg almost at knee-height, and Hannah stifled a scream.
‘Miaooow.’
She let out her breath in a harsh gasp. ‘Oh, shame on you, you scared the life out of me,’ she whispered. The ship’s cat circled her legs and she welcomed his presence, hoping he would keep the rats at bay. She bent to stroke the sleek animal and he purred to show his appreciation of such attention.
‘Now where do you suggest I hide? Found any good places, Kitty?’ she whispered.
‘Miaow.’
‘You’re not much help. I suppose I’ll have to search for myself then.’ It was a relief to have someone to talk to, even if it was just a cat, and Hannah relaxed as she began to look for a likely hiding place. Fortune had smiled on her this far, surely all would be well now. She just had to keep quiet.
At last she found a small space where she could crawl in behind a pile of barrels. Cramped and dark, the smell from the bilge water permeated the floor from underneath. Her hiding place was only just big enough for her to lie down if she curled herself into a little ball, but it was the best spot available.
Hannah resigned herself to patience. If she didn’t endure this, all her endeavours would have been for nothing. Surely she could stand it for just a few short days? She stowed her bundle next to her and settled down on the hard planking.
Sleep proved impossible, however. Soon after she’d found her hideaway, the crew began to return to the ship. Her guess that they’d been enjoying their last night on land proved accurate, as their loud voices and some raucous singing confirmed, but shouted commands soon silenced them. Hannah couldn’t hear what was being said, but she knew they would have to be up before dawn to catch the tide. She didn’t envy them their sore heads then.
Hannah wriggled around, trying to find a comfortable position on the thin blanket, but her thoughts wouldn’t give her any respite. She began to wonder if she had lost her mind entirely. What sensible girl would stow away on a ship going on a dangerous journey to the other side of the world? It was complete madness, and yet she couldn’t bear the thought of marrying Mr Hesketh, giving him the right to continue where he’d left off the other day. She shuddered violently at the memory.
Another thing occurred to her. By running away like this, she would be going where Captain Rydon went. If she had stayed behind, her chances of ever seeing him again would have been slim. Very slim indeed. ‘We’ll be gone for years,’ she’d heard Jacob say, and by then Hannah’s father would have found her a husband. Whether it was Mr Hesketh or someone else was immaterial.
Captain Rydon had admired her courage. ‘You have spirit,’ he’d told her. Well, she would show him further proof of it and perhaps, just perhaps, he would come to admire other things about her as well. What did she have to lose other than her life now?
Jacob had a soft spot for Hannah. Although she knew he would be very angry, she was sure she could persuade him to take her along once he had recovered from the shock of finding her on board. Besides, he wouldn’t have any choice. Hannah didn’t have any intention of being found immediately. She’d watched enough departures to know there were always smaller boats around who would be only too willing to take her back to shore in disgrace. No, she had to stay hidden until they were well out at sea.
Her eyelids began to close at last and she smiled in the darkness. Jacob would protect her. He might even be glad of her company.
If only she could get through the first few days undetected, she’d be fine.
Chapter Ten
Northern Japan, October 1611
Taro liked nothing better than to eat his evening meal alone in his private quarters, away from the constant bustle of the castle and free at last from the hordes of guards and retainers that followed him wherever he went. Here, he could relax and allow his thoughts to roam without interruption. His servants knew that once they had delivered the food to him, he preferred to serve himself and didn’t want to be disturbed by anyone unless it was an emergency. Even the guards outside his doors kept absolutely quiet so as not to annoy him.
He was therefore irritated to hear the floor boards in the corridor creaking, just after he had finished the last morsel of food. The planks had been laid unevenly on purpose and the noise they made warned him of a visitor or an intruder. Taro wanted neither. His ears were attuned to their every squeak and since whoever was approaching didn’t even try to walk softly, he assumed it wasn’t an enemy. He sighed and sat back on his cushion to wait for the knock, his features composed into a pleasant expression that didn’t reveal his true feelings.
‘My lord? May I come in?’
Taro blinked in surprise. He knew the voice and it wasn’t one he had been expecting. ‘Hasuko-sama? Of course you can. To what do I owe this pleasure?’
His wife opened the sliding door and came scuttling in, having left her slippers in the corridor. The silk of her gown made a shushing noise as she hauled it behind her on the tatami mats and arranged it to her satisfaction when she came to a halt, kneeling in front of her husband, and bowed low before him.
‘Konbanwa,’ she said rather too formally for his liking. Taro frowned, but managed to smooth his brow before she raised her head.
‘Good evening, Hasuko. Are you well?’ He glanced at her stomach, which as yet was showing no signs of the pregnancy she had told him about only the week before.
‘As well as can be expected, I thank you.’ She bowed again, obviously waiting for him to give her permission to state her errand. He decided to wait a little longer.
‘Then you have come to keep me company. That is very kind,’ he said, sending a fleeting look, as if without thinking, towards his sleeping chamber. The door to it was hidden behind a particularly opulent wall painting that showed a peacock sitting proudly on the branch of a huge pine tree. Taro knew Hasuko was only too well aware of what lay behind it. He had summoned her often enough.
‘No!’ she said a little too quickly, then averted her gaze, stammering, ‘I mean, of course I would be happy to keep you company, my lord, but now that I am … in a delicate condition, I have been thinking. That is to say, this matter has occupied my thoughts lately to the exclusion of all else.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Taro smiled and was secretly pleased to notice a blush stealing up the pale expanse of her neck.
‘What I mean, my lord, is that I may be unable to … to see to your every need now. But since I am concerned about your welfare, I have taken the liberty of bringing you a companion.’
‘Nani? What do you mean?’ Taro’s good humour evaporated in an instant and he glanced towards the door, which was now opening for a second time. For a moment, he was afraid he would see Reiko coming through it and he steeled himself not to swear out loud. Although she hadn’t made any overtures to him lately, he’d been sure she was just biding her time. Now that her sister was pregnant, she’d probably think he would be easier to persuade.
To his huge relief, it wasn’t Reiko who entered however. Instead, a tiny woman, more child than adult, came shuffling in and prostrated herself before him. ‘Who is this?’ he demanded.
‘This is Kimi, my lord,’ Hasuko replied. She smiled at the girl and indicated she should sit up. Taro could see that Kimi was as exquisite as a doll. Although her face had been powdered white and her eyes and mouth painted into perfection, it was clear this wasn’t really needed. She would have been just as beautiful without any paint. He frowned at her and saw alarm in her eyes, although it was quickly masked.
‘Why have you brought me this girl-child, Hasuko?’
‘She’s not a child, she is a woman grown and I have bought her for you so you won’t have to suffer while I am in this condition.’
It was a pretty speech, but it made Taro even more annoyed than he was already. As far as he was aware, preg
nant women were not ill. There was no reason why Hasuko shouldn’t continue to fulfill her role as his wife in every sense of the word until perhaps the very last month of her pregnancy. He had been prepared to be gentle with her, especially during this early stage when many women suffered from nausea, but he’d never thought to replace her in his bed with a concubine. At least not so soon after their wedding. It was Hasuko he wanted still, no one else.
He thought he’d made that clear.
He took a deep breath, once again mindful of the words of warning spoken to him by Yanagihara. ‘I’m honoured that you should be so concerned about my welfare, dear wife, but I’m afraid I cannot accept your gift.’
Hasuko’s eyes widened in shock before she managed to regain control of herself. ‘You … you don’t like Kimi? Would you prefer someone else? Someone a bit older, perhaps? I can easily find another girl. I only chose her because you seemed to admire beauty in a woman and she is so very –’
Taro held up his hand to stop the flow of words. ‘Kimi is too young, yes, but had she been older my answer would still be the same. The problem is not just her age, but the fact that she is not you.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘There is only one woman I want at present and that is you, Hasuko. I understand you may be feeling a little unwell just now and I’m prepared to be patient. It will pass, or so the midwives tell me.’
He’d made enquiries about the process of pregnancy and childbirth and knew as much as she did herself. She couldn’t fool him. Hasuko’s eyes narrowed, but with a smile he made it clear. ‘Once I had set eyes on you, my lovely wife, no other woman could compare. I simply don’t desire anyone else. Doesn’t that please you?’
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