by Richard Dee
“Only that we should be safe now we are on-board. If we have the Captain’s blessing, nobody would try to argue. Our followers will know we are aboard, but they cannot get to us, even if they bribe the customs men at the gate.”
“Unless they do as we did and get a passenger’s pass from an agent.”
“They still have to get aboard, past the crewman with the stick.”
“That’s a good point; everyone quotes it but is it a myth? I’m going to ask the sailor at the gangway what the official position is.”
Jackson went down to the vessel’s gangway; there was a different crewman on duty. “Good day,” he said, the man answered with a grunt. “Tell me,” he asked, “do you let anyone on board who asks?”
The man looked at him. “Only those I know, like the agent, nobody else. If the agent vouches for them I will permit them, otherwise Captain’s orders and they stay on land. Meriwether tells me you and your lady are on passage to Ventis.”
Jackson did not know how much trust to place in this man. “We are, and if men came looking for me, for example, would you allow them on board.”
“No,” the man said definitely. “You are now part of the ship’s company and without the Captain’s permission you are inviolate.”
Just then Jessamine called to him from inside the deckhouse. “Dinner is served,” she said.
“That your lady?” asked the sailor.
“Yes, she is,” Jackson proudly replied.
“Worth everything, a good woman,” said the man wistfully. “I haven’t seen my Ginny for near a year now. I do miss her, and the boys. You look after her, nobody will get you here.”
After dinner, which was a jolly affair with wine and ale, and food enough for twice the number sat around the table, Bludmonger introduced them to the other officers. The Mate and his Second were quiet, or perhaps just not as boisterous as the Captain. The engineers reminded them both of Oswald, men used to the dark recesses suddenly caught in the light and unprepared. They all made a good bunch and by the time Jackson and Jessamine got to their cabin they were more the worse for wear. They bolted the door and collapsed onto the bed.
Jackson was more used to sharing a bed with Jessamine now and took little notice of her. They had perfected an arrangement, to keep themselves separate she slept under the sheet, while he was on top of it; with both of them under the counterpane.
“We should stay out of sight until we leave,” Jessamine suggested when they woke. “Send my apologies and say that I am unwell.”
Jackson ventured down for fast-break, the salon was deserted save for a steward, who sympathised with Jessamine’s plight and sent Char and food to the cabin for her.
They spent the next day in the cabin, listening to the noises of the cargo gear. They talked of what they had seen and its possible meaning.
“If Aldithley can send a signal from this box of his to a device in a man’s head, then whatever else might he do?” wondered Jessamine. “How I wish that Oswald was here to shed some light on things.”
“We will see him very soon,” said Jackson. “I daresay he can explain it all to us, certainly disrupting the aerialway would not be difficult after what we have witnessed. Sir Mortimer says there have been more events, it may be that what we know is already old news.”
Cargo finished in the afternoon, the derricks were stowed, hatches shut. Jessamine deemed it safe to leave for dinner. “Bludmonger will be suspicious if he does not see us,” she decided. “Besides, the wharf is deserted, none can watch unnoticed.”
“Beware of his attention,” said Jackson, “he seems to be the worst sort where pretty women are concerned.”
To his surprise Jessamine hugged him. “Do you think me pretty?” she said, striking a pose. “I’ve dealt with worse than him; they all have the same weakness.”
Jackson said no more. She was pretty; it was silly to deny it. It was yet another thing about women that he didn’t understand.
In the evening, they dined with the officers. “We have missed you today,” said Bludmonger as they ate, “I was hoping to talk to you about your lives and purpose.”
“Apologies, Captain,” said Jessamine. “I think I ate a rogue bivalve yesterday. I have been indisposed.”
“And your dutiful husband at your side,” the Captain said, “only leaving to fetch Char. Well, we will depart in the morn, I hope you have recovered, the weather is set fair, we shall test your sea legs.”
Jessamine ate sparingly and drank no wine. They excused themselves and left, just one more night and they would be safe, from pursuers on land at least.
Next day, in the early half-light, the tide was full and it was time to depart. Jackson woke as the ship’s engine started and went to the deck behind the wheelhouse. His head ached, even though he had drunk little and only with the meal. Perhaps the strain of avoiding capture was playing on his mind.
As he watched, Bludmonger shouted orders at the crew, seemingly unaffected by the amount of wine he had consumed. Under his control, the mooring lines were let go and the Esperance departed its berth. As Jackson saw the wharf disappear behind them, the three men they had been fearing had got through the barrier, only to find that they had departed. Shouting and waving arms, they stood at the dockside and cursed the vessel. “We’ll get you!” one shouted. “You’ll never evade us.”
Bludmonger had heard the exchange from his position on the bridge wing. He looked thoughtfully at Jackson. I fancy there’s a story to be told, he mused.
He looked again at the lad. He was tall and well-muscled. Bludmonger noticed something else. He had the Watchman’s truncheon pockets in his trousers. That was normal, a lot of boys wore facsimiles of them, they considered it a badge. However, this lad’s were the genuine article; he could see the tops of the weapons. And he wore a quip-belt as well.
A possible Watchman, with a lady in tow, chased by three dubious characters. He had intended to have a little fun with them on the voyage, as was his wont, perhaps he should instead get the story, before he found himself in more trouble than his rank could absolve.
He spoke to his Bosun, the man who ran the crew with a fist of iron. “These passengers we have, they are to be left alone.”
The man looked upset, he had seen the lady, a little fun was in order. But his Captain had spoken, he would obey. “Aye, Cap’n,” the man said, a disappointed look on his face.
“I think he’s more than he says he is,” explained the Captain. “I will find out the truth and decide what to do.”
At fast-break, Bludmonger spoke to Jackson, who was on his second cup of Cofé. “Is this your first sea voyage?”
“It is.” Jackson stuck to their story. “We are on our honeymoon and exploring the country. My wife is sleeping. I will take her a drink, with your permission.”
“Of course,” replied Bludmonger. “When she is awake and presentable, I need you to come to my cabin, both of you. There are papers to be signed and fees to be paid.”
Jackson nodded, he was unsure of the reaction he would get. The Captain had seen their pursuers, he seemed to have an inkling that they were running, what could he do?
After the meal, Jackson took a mug of Char to the cabin, Jessamine was awake and dressed. “Here is some Char,” he said. “The Captain wants to see us; he says that there are formalities.”
“We will have to see what transpires,” she said. “Perhaps he can aid us, but we must be cautious.”
They repaired to the Captain’s cabin and sat in comfortable chairs. “Now then,” said Bludmonger, “I can see from your appearance that you are not what you claim.” He held up his giant hand to silence their protests. “Oh, I don’t want to judge but I will not be lied to on my vessel. So, tell me true, or I might consider returning you to the care of your three friends in Port Lucas.”
Jackson looked him in the eye. “And what do you think we are about?”
“Well, I see that you are a Watchman, or at least an officer of the law, in plain clothes.
And as your lady appears not to be, I surmise that you are escorting her for some reason. Maybe to rescue her or protect her. Perhaps she is a witness to some awful deed?”
That was so wide of the mark, Jackson and Jessamine looked at each other. “We should tell him,” she said.
“Only if he promises that it goes no further.”
Bludmonger was not impressed. “I’ll not be told what to do on my own command.”
“Then do your worst. We have a mission of utmost importance; the security of the nation is in doubt. If you are not with us, then you will be added to the list of those against.”
“Very well, tell me and I will decide.”
They related an edited version of the tale, leaving out the name Nethersole and some of the more fantastical elements they had witnessed. The Captain’s eyes grew wider. “This man, you say that he is planning to overthrow the government. I distrust politicians from habit, but he sounds worse, keeping order with fear and violence, never. You shall have my aid and that of my crew. You say you plan to disembark at Ventis, well that is out of the question. He is sure to have men waiting for you at the port; you will be captured before you have passed the gates.”
“We mentioned Ventis as a ruse. We must get off before then, preferably at Queinton; we need a port with a rail to the city.”
“All ports will be watched if this man is as powerful as you say. But I have an idea. Now go and enjoy the day, you will be safe on my vessel.” They left and he called for his Bosun, the man would be annoyed to be deprived of his fun, but bigger things were at stake.
Jackson and Jessamine spent the rest of the day standing and watching the sea from the deck of the Esperance. They were more relaxed than they had been, it seemed any threat they had felt from the Captain or his crew had retreated. They crew they saw were civil and friendly, interrupting their labours to talk and joke.
Jessamine knew that her feelings for Jackson were deepening and she had been resisting them since that first evening back at the orphanage, when she had climbed the wall and seen him coming towards her. Somehow, even then, she had known that they were fated for each other. As he had trained alongside her and the rest, she had come to know him better; her feelings had grown, even though he seemed oblivious to her in any more than a brotherly way.
Capricia in his bed had been her idea, after being hurt so many times in the past, she wanted to see if Jackson would be swayed by availability. He had passed that test and his indifference to the other women he had met had reinforced her opinion of him.
Now they had been away from the orphanage for so long, forced to share life together, and sleep chaste side by side for many nights, she knew that the time was right for matters to progress. Many times since they had left the city, she had resisted the urge to ravish him, she had forced herself to remember the objectives of their mission. Now they appeared to be safe, with a dubious character who had become an ally, she felt safe for the first time. It would not last, as soon as they arrived in port the game would start again. There was only tonight. It would have been nice to let him make the first move. If he would not progress, then she would have to take the lead.
Distasteful as it was, her training at the hands of the woman she had been sent to would have to be employed. She had been taught to seduce, as part of her work for Langdon, she had done things that she was not proud of. They would become lovers, she had decided. And here, on the ocean, was the perfect place. All her preparations were in place, tonight was the night.
She had pled tiredness and gone to the cabin, leaving him drinking ale with the officers. Now as she tidied up and prepared for bed, she noticed a cloth in his jacket pocket. Investigating further, she found a white lace undergarment, similar to the ones she wore. He must be saving it for a special night, she thought, perhaps his mind was working in the same way as hers after all. Now she undressed completely, bathed and dried herself. She applied some of the perfume that she kept in her quip-belt, and thought about putting the scrap of lace on. She decided against it, that would be forward, it was up to him to give it, not hers to take. She got into the bed naked. ‘I hope he’s not long,’ she thought, as she turned the light out.
Jackson opened the cabin door as quietly as he could, he tried not to disturb her, the light was off, she must be sleeping. Poor Jessamine, he thought, having to deal with him and his mistakes on his first mission, as well as the dangers posed by Rodney and his henchmen. It was a wonder she wasn’t beset by headaches every day and night.
He could hear her regular breathing as he undressed and washed. He was about to climb into the bed when he found that she was on his side. He made his way around and gently lay down and turned away from her. As he went to pull the counterpane over, he realised that instead of being on top of the sheet, he was underneath it. About to move, he was stopped by a hand that came out of the darkness. “No,” said Jessamine. “I want you next to me, skin on skin.” There was a rustle of covers and then she was lying beside him, pressed into his back, as she had been at the inn. He could feel the heat from her. With a start he realised that she was naked. “Turn to face me,” she said in a voice so soft and compelling that Jackson did so without thinking.
Their lips met and they kissed, a long drawn out joining that took his breath away. He had never imagined that her lips could be so soft, her tongue so insistent.
When they broke apart, she spoke again. “Remove your clothes,” she said, “and love me, like nature intended.”
Without hesitation he divested himself of his clothes and then, as the Esperance chugged through the night, they became lovers.
When they finally broke apart, Jackson was not only exhausted, he was aware that he had found his love, for as long as this life lasted.
“I am yours forever,” he whispered.
“And I am yours till my heart beats its last,” she replied.
They both lay for a moment, at peace, then Jackson remembered a thing he had been told in the orphanage. Even though he knew that it was not the most romantic thing to say, he had to know. “Will you have a child?” he asked, placing a hand on her stomach, feeling the trembling muscle under the soft skin. At that moment, if she had said yes, he would not have been happier.
Instead she laughed, and pulled him even closer, her grip like iron. “You have a knack of saying the wrong thing, Jackson. The answer is no, thanks to Oswald. He invents other things than gloves and torches you know, things which have a much more enjoyable function. The act is safe from that result.”
“Then if it’s safe, can we do it again?” he asked.
Chapter 27
Next morning, Jackson woke to the ship’s slow, steady motion. Beside him, Jessamine lay sleeping. He looked across at her relaxed form and realised two things. He was more joyful than he had ever been, not only that, he could see now that Alyious had been right about attachment clouding his judgement. He would now do anything for Jessamine. If he had been tested by Clarry today, he would have failed miserably, telling all to try to spare her pain. And that meant the same would happen in reality.
He moved and realised that he ached all over, at least as much as he had from his first days training, which all seemed so long ago. He and Jessamine had done things he would never have dreamed of. In a moment’s respite he had held her and whispered that; she replied in a matter-of-fact voice, “I have been taught to do these things; it seems a shame not to use them for my own pleasure.”
Jackson had a sudden thought, had this been part of her job, to seduce him for some purpose yet to be revealed? No, surely not. She must have noticed that he was a novice, she had instructed him and he had done his best, even so, he could not believe that her pleasure was all feigned.
“I understand, Alyious has told me of the things you women have to do.” For a moment she looked sad.
“I don’t really want to talk about it, Jackson,” she said. “But I will say this. What we did last night was not the same as what I do for Langdon. That is mechanical, d
uring it I think of other things. With you, it was different, I don’t mean that we should wed immediately, or anything like that, but it was a pleasure, not a duty. Take the night’s pleasure, and the many others that I hope will follow, enjoy what is freely given, remember to never ask for more knowledge of what I have to do.”
There was a knock at the door. “Luncheon in twenty minutes,” was the call.
“Is that the time?” asked Jackson. “We have slept all night and half the day.”
She giggled, holding him close. “I would scarce call that sleeping.”
They washed and dressed, then went in search of food.
Captain Bludmonger watched them enter the dining saloon; there was a change about them, the way they reacted to each other. He smiled; ‘sea air,’ he thought, ‘now I can complete their happiness.’
“You slept well?” he asked.
“Thank you, yes,” Jessamine replied. “To be safe for even a day is a relief and for that we must thank you.”
“Well, I have been pondering your dilemma. After discussion with the Bosun we think we have a solution. Find him when you have eaten, he will explain.”
They enjoyed a fine meal and then repaired on the deck, where they found the Bosun waiting for them. Looking out to sea, the coast was close, tall cliffs and no sign of habitation.
“Where are we?” asked Jackson.
“On time,” was all the man said. He then explained that their passage had been timed so that they arrived in Queinton at daybreak the next day. There was a Ryde to the city at lunchtime, with luck they would be on it.
“Come with me, to the hold,” he said. “Captain and I have fixed a way for you to escape.”
He led them down a ladder into the hold, lit by the miners’ lamps they carried. The space was filled with a layer of crates and packages. “They are all secured to wooden pallets, for ease of handling,” said the Bosun. “Each stack is ready to lift. What we have done is simple.” He pointed to one stack, which had a hollow centre. “You will get in there,” he said, “it will be the first to be discharged. You will be lifted ashore by the cranes. The watchers will not be able to see you, as you sail over their heads.”
