The Lion Triumphant (45 page)

He had lost count of time, but always the determination stayed with him that one day he would escape. He impressed this on his men: One day they were going to return to England.

He told me how he had dreamed of the homecoming, never allowing himself to believe for one moment that it could fail. Such vivid accounts he gave of the stinking galleys, of the endless toil, of the beating of the drum to keep them in time, of the galley-master brandishing his whip for those who flagged.

“Oh, Jake,” I cried, “what has this done to you?”

But he was the same as ever. He had come back, had he not? All sailors knew when they left home that they faced fearful odds. He had been fortunate all his sea life until that ill-fated day when he had chased a Spaniard and ill luck had sent him ashore to look for native help in a place which was already occupied by the accursed enemy.

“All the time I was biding my time,” he said. “I planned every waking moment. There were times when we were released from our chains. They had to keep us alive. I have a good and faithful band and we made the most of those moments.”

He would tell me more later. There were many hideous details to come. But first I wanted to know how he had come home.

He, with some fifty slaves, had overpowered the captain of the Turkish craft. They had seized her and after many adventures at sea had brought her back to Plymouth.

I said he must not go away for a long time. I wanted to nurse him back to health.

He laughed at that. He was strong as ever. “Hardship never hurt a man,” he told me.

But he seemed content to stay. The
Rampant Lion
was lost and he would build a new ship. He would want to watch her grow. He was delighted to hear that the boys had sailed with Drake. They should have their own ships to command, he told them.

And I think I was happier than I had ever been before. I had come to terms with myself. Perhaps, though, during his absence I had glorified Jake. I had to relearn so much about him. I had forgotten how coarse he could be, how demanding, and he had not lost his love of a fight. Although in my heart I rejoiced at his return, at the same time we argued endlessly.

He still taunted me for not giving him a boy and I was angry with him because he was inclined to ignore Linnet, and a more attractive girl and one more like him there could not be. She had taken a dislike to him too. I think when I had talked of him I had built up a picture which she now thought to have been false. They were constantly at cross purposes.

To my great joy soon after Jake’s return I conceived. This time I must have a boy.

How I longed for this son who would be born of a new Catharine, a woman who had come to terms with life and knew how good fate had been to her. Jake had been brought back to me, and whatever we said to each other in our heated arguments, I was certain that I could find no true happiness without him.

It had been a wonderful realization. And now that he was back I desperately wanted him to have his son.

Jake was busily concerned with the building of the new ship. He enjoyed the company of Carlos and Jacko and Romilly’s Penn, now thirteen years old, adored him.

The months passed. Jake often talked of his adventures and more and more clearly the picture of those years was built up.

Once I said to him: “Now that you are home and safe perhaps you will never want to go to sea again.”

He looked at me in astonishment and burst into laughter. “Are you mad? When I am building my fine ship. How could a sailor give up the sea? I’m going out to kill many more Spaniards yet. I’ve a score to settle…”

He had changed little.

He talked often of the boy we would have. “Our boy,” he said. “He’ll be the best of the bunch. We’ll call him Jake after his father.”

I said I would not call him anything else.

He had a name for his new ship. A
Lion
of course. The
Triumphant Lion
because this young
Lion
was going to avenge the old one. This one would be mightier, his claws would be sharper, his teeth stronger. She was going to sweep the Spaniards off the sea.

Everything was ready for my confinement. The midwife had been in residence for a week before the child was born. We were taking no chances.

And so my child was born.

I lay in my bed experiencing that strange mingling of exhaustion and triumph which will be familiar to every mother. Then I knew the truth. My child was alive and perfect in every way—except that it was a girl.

Jake came in. I saw his face puckered and distorted.

“A girl!” he said. “Another girl!”

I felt the tears on my eyes; they were running down my cheeks. I felt so weak from my ordeal and the sight of him there angrily bitter was more than I could endure.

Linnet was at my bedside. “Mother, it is wonderful,” she cried. “I have a sister … a dear little sister. Get well soon, dearest Mother.”

She stooped and kissed me, and when Jake strode out of the room she went after him.

I heard her voice. “You wicked man! You cruel man! She has suffered and you do not care. All you care for is to have a boy. I hate you!”

I heard the sound of a resounding slap and I thought: He has struck her.

I tried to get up but I could not. The midwife was holding me.

She said: “I will bring the baby to you. A dear little girl.”

She was laid in my arms and I loved her.

I decided to call her Damask after my mother.

Jake was penitent afterward. He, a man who had never disguised his feelings, had been unable to control his bitter disappointment at my bedside.

He came to see the baby and could not hide his distaste as he looked at the crumpled pink face of my second daughter.

He said: “It seems you and I were not intended to have boys.”

“It would seem so,” I answered. “You made the mistake. You said that you had chosen me to be the mother of your sons. It is your fault. You should not have chosen me.”

He laughed suddenly.

“’Tis no use crying over what’s done.”

“Nay,” I agreed, “we make our mistakes and must needs suffer for them.”

“Ah, Cat, we are in agreement at last. So I have got another girl who doubtless will grow up like her sister.” He touched his cheek. “The young devil,” he went on. “She struck me. Upbraided me for my treatment of you and then quick as lightning she upped with her hand and hit me across the cheek. That young woman will have to be taught a lesson or two.”

“Take care that she does not teach you one.”

“Not only have I got me a wife who cannot give me sons, but I’ve begotten a virago of a daughter. By God, my household is turning against me.” He clenched his right fist suddenly and beat his left palm with it. “I wanted a boy,” he said. “More than anything on earth I wanted a boy.”

There was a boy in the house, Romilly’s Penn, and from the time of Damask’s birth Jake’s interest in him increased. Penn was a bright lad, fearless and showing a great interest in ships and the sea. Jake had a model of the
Rampant Lion
and the boy had been discovered taking it apart, a fact which might have earned him a severe punishment. But Jake took a lenient view of the offense and showed the boy how the ship was operated. I was amused to see them trying out this precious model on the pond in the garden.

Romilly was pink with pleasure. I came upon her standing by the pool, her hands clasped in a kind of ecstasy as she watched Jake and the adventurous Penn together. I was sure she hoped Jake would do for her son what he had done for Carlos and Jacko. I was certain that he would. Penn had the sea in his blood, for his grandfather had been, as Jake had said often, one of the best captains who had sailed with him.

As each month passed there was more and more talk of the growing strength of Spain. The captive Queen of Scots was a perpetual menace. There were constant rumors of plots to set her on the throne and bring the Catholic Faith back to England.

The Queen honored her sailors. The news of the great fleet of ships which Philip of Spain was building was constantly discussed. People cheered the English ships when they came into the Hoe as though they looked to them to save us from the terrors which the Spaniards would thrust upon us.

Old sailors on the Hoe chatted together about the Spaniards. One or two of them had been captured by them. There was one man who had been taken before the Inquisition, tortured and somehow escaped before they had been able to burn him at the stake. He had many a tale to tell. The people had to understand that the ships of the Spanish Armada would bring not only guns and fighting men but instruments of torture which would make the rack and thumbscrews and even the Scavenger’s Daughter look like children’s toys.

John Gregory, who was still with us, was clearly afraid. I wondered what would happen to him if he were taken by the Spaniards a second time.

It was almost open war between England and Spain at this time. Philip declared that he would seize all ships found in Spanish waters. Elizabeth replied that reprisals would be taken. She equipped twenty-five ships to avenge the wrongs done to her and her brave seamen. Who should be in charge of this venture but the great Sir Francis and he set forth in the
Elizabeth Bonaventure
with vengeance in his heart?

We heard stories of his exploits; how he had raided Spanish harbors and carried off treasure. Drake sailed on to Virginia, where he had a conference with the colonists who had been sent there by Sir Walter Raleigh.

Very soon after that two very interesting products were brought to England. The potato, which we found very good to eat and which we began to serve with meats to great advantage. The other was tobacco, a weed, the leaves of which were rolled and smoked, and from these, oddly enough, many people began to find a certain solace.

These were uneasy times. We could never be sure when we would look from our windows and see the Spanish Armada bearing down on us. Jake said this was nonsense. We should have warning of their coming. Sir Francis Drake and men like himself were ever watchful. We need have no fear. The Spaniards were not ready yet and when they did come, by God’s Death, we would be ready for them. He had decided that he would not go far away until the matter was resolved. He was putting his ships at the disposal of the Queen. He would make forays into Spanish harbors, but he was going to be at hand when the great confrontation took place.

Jake had changed a little. He seemed to enjoy being at home. He was becoming more domesticated. He took no notice of Damask, but he was very watchful of Linnet and the fact that she scorned him seemed to amuse him. He was Penn’s hero and the boy would follow him about at a discreet distance until Jake either roared at him to be off or had a few words with him.

Jake was mellowed, I believed; there seemed a certain contentment about him. He had accepted the fact that we were not going to have a son.

On my birthday he gave me a cross studded with rubies. It was a beautiful piece. I wondered whether he had taken it from some Spanish home, but I did not ask him because I did not wish to question a birthday gift.

He liked to see me wearing it so I did often.

A few weeks after he had given me the cross I began to suffer from an occasional headache and when this was so I used to take my food in my room. Jennet would bring it to me because in spite of our differences I had always wanted her to be my personal maid.

Jake had little sympathy for physical ailments. He never suffered from any himself and his lack of imagination made it impossible for him to understand other people’s feelings.

When I was not feeling entirely well I liked to be by myself and these were the occasions when I remained in my room. Linnet would come and talk to me. She was always tender toward me and had taken up a protective attitude, which amused me, because I had always been well able to look after myself.

On this occasion Jennet brought me a kind of soup dish which contained that novelty, the potato, and some kind of mushrooms and meat.

It was tasty and I enjoyed it, but in the night I began to feel ill. I was very sick and feverish and I wondered whether there had been something in the dish which had not agreed with me.

I went to see the cook who told me that others had had the dish and suffered no ill. They were fearful, I could see, lest I had contracted the sweat after all.

I said it contained mushrooms and there were toadstools which looked very like mushrooms. Could it be that one of these had been used?

The cook was indignant. Had she not been cooking for twenty years and if she didn’t know a toadstool from a mushroom she ought to be hung, drawn and quartered, that she did.

It took me some days to recover my health, but in a week or so I had forgotten the incident until it happened again.

I had eaten in my room half a chicken with a loaf which I had washed down with a tankard of ale, and as I was drinking the ale I was aware of a strange odor about it. I had drunk little of it but was determined to drink no more, for it was at precisely this time that a horrifying notion came to me.

I had eaten of the soup dish. So had others. I had been ill. Mine had been brought to me in my room. What had happened to it on the way up?

I smelled the ale. I was becoming more and more convinced that something was wrong with it.

Somebody had tampered with it on its way to my room. Who?

I found a bottle and poured some of the ale into it. I threw the rest out of the window.

I felt mildly ill and I was certain that the ale had been poisoned.

Could it possibly be that someone in this house was trying to poison me?

I took the bottle out of the drawer in which I had hidden it. I smelled it. There was a sediment.

Oh, God, I thought. Someone
is
trying to kill me. Someone in this house. Who would want to do this?

Jake!

Why should he immediately come to mind? Was it because when someone wished a woman out of the way it was usually her husband? Jake had chosen me. Yes, to be the mother of his sons. Could it be that he wanted sons so much that… I would not believe it.