The Pirates and the Nightmaker (15 page)

Still the captain did not appear.

The street soon became busy, noisy. There was the clop of horses and donkeys, the cries of the vendors, and loud toing and froing as people greeted each other or shared news. The news of course included much lively or horrified gossip about the conflagration, the loss of Jenny Blade’s dwelling and the mystery surrounding Sophie. I was thus able to learn, that at least as far as the street knew, neither Sophie nor her remains had been found.

And then, much later, the captain did appear at the doorway of the house.

He was alone, and judging by the hour of the morn, probably breakfasted.

He looked cautiously from right to left, and then turned in the direction of the quay and strode swiftly towards it.

Of course, I dropped down to the street and darted after him.

The captain reached the waterfront and then paused, looking about him. He looked over towards the bluff where yesterday Jenny Blade’s house had stood, but where now there was little to see at all.

The captain waited until he saw a passer-by who would not treat him with the bad temper and hostility he’d received yesterday, and asked a quiet question.

I did not hear this transaction, but the passer-by, an elderly sailor sucking at a pipe, took the pipe out of his mouth to gesture towards the wharf.

The captain nodded, thanked the sailor with a coin, and then proceeded along the wharf.

When he reached the gangplank of the
Medusa
, he stopped and once again looked about cautiously. And then, decision made, he stepped onto the gangplank and made his way on board the vessel.

I hurried behind Captain Lightower so that I now stood only a foot or two away.

He stepped on to the quarterdeck and nodded curtly at the sailor clearly on duty there, a man I recognised as Irish Peter.

‘I understand the captain is on board,’ Captain Lightower said brusquely. ‘I would speak with her.’

Ignoring this peremptory command, the sailor said, ‘Begging your pardon, sir, but the captain has given instructions she’s not to be disturbed. No doubt you’ve heard talk of the fire?’

It made sense that with her house in ruins, Jenny Blade would have retreated to her ship. I could also understand why she would have given instructions not to be disturbed. The previous night would have been one filled with horror, grief and loss and I could not imagine sleep or peace coming easily.

The captain’s insisting on an audience in the wake of such an accumulation of tragedies was at once insensitive and foolhardy.

Instead, however, of excusing himself and turning heel, he persisted in his foolhardiness.

‘I am sorry,’ he said to Irish Peter as if addressing a dolt, ‘but I fear you do not understand. My name is Captain Lightower and I am an officer in the service of the king. I have told you I wish to speak with Mistress Blade!’

Irish Peter straightened and stared the captain out, before replying, ‘I am afraid, sir, it is you who seems not to understand. The captain gave orders she would not be disturbed and she will not be disturbed.’

Lightower gave him a poisonous look and then dismissing him turned towards the companionway that led to the wardroom and made as if to march directly to the captain’s cabin beyond.

Seeing his intention, Irish Peter, though slight, seized him by the jacket and shouted with great urgency, ‘Billy! Caleb! Here at the double!’

Within seconds two sailors arrived; the smaller carrying a cutlass and the larger a huge man whose bare hands looked to be weapons enough for any skirmish. Seeing Irish Peter and Captain Lightower engaged in an angry, tugging struggle they shouted at the captain to desist. Caleb, the huge man, and Irish Peter continued to manhandle the captain while Billy with his cutlass rushed to defend the companionway.

There was much shouting and thumping of feet, so much so that within moments Jenny Blade herself had climbed the companionway and stood there looking furious. She was still in her calico gown but barefooted, and she looked diminished somehow. She had an expression of utter
wretchedness on her face which was drawn and paler than I’d known it.

Her voice, however, had lost none of its authority.

‘What means this commotion on my quarterdeck?’

Her voice rang clear and commanding, and the struggling men broke apart and backed away from each other.

Captain Lightower, red of face and puffing, stood before her with his shirt disarranged and his hat askew.

‘Madam,’ he said, trying to regain his dignity, ‘my apologies and my respects, but these men had the impudence to try to deny me your presence.’

He said this in such a way that assumed Jenny Blade would immediately send the men to the brig to await whipping.

Instead, Mistress Blade looked at the captain with extreme disfavour and said coldly, ‘Captain Lightower, these men in fact had the
impudence
to obey my strict orders that I was not to be disturbed!’

‘Madam …’

‘And now I am! What means this gross impertinence, sir?’

Remembering himself, Captain Lightower now swept off his hat and bowed. ‘Captain, I would talk with you, something pertaining to your daughter.’

The expression on Jenny Blade’s face changed from outrage to something more akin to grief.

‘My daughter, Captain Lightower?’ she asked in a low voice.

‘It is my understanding, Mistress Blade, that following last evening’s terrible fire your daughter is missing.’

Jenny Blade stared at him.

‘She is, sir.’

Captain Lightower looked about him awkwardly, and then turned back to Jenny Blade who was waiting tense, yet curious.

‘What I have to say, madam,’ said the captain, ‘is really for your ears alone …’

‘You are mysterious, sir,’ said Jenny Blade, now more suspicious, ‘and much as I would like to indulge you, as a woman I do insist on company. Billy,’ she added, turning to the sailor still clutching his cutlass, ‘would you summon Mr Griff and tell him that I would meet with him.’

Billy nodded, and left immediately.

Jenny Blade then said to Irish Peter, ‘Peter, when Mr Griff arrives, would you invite him and Captain Lightower to join me in my cabin and we shall hear what the gentleman has to say —
pertaining
to my daughter.’

These last few words she laid special emphasis on and treated Captain Lightower to such a look he at once seemed a little less sure of himself, a little less confident that he had embarked upon the correct course.

Shortly, Mr Griff arrived and greeted Captain Lightower courteously, although not without giving him a searching look. I suspected Billy may have described the captain’s manner and reception to date. Peter then entered the wardroom and came out shortly after to wave the men inside. I made sure I slipped in between them and seconds later I was inside Jenny Blade’s cabin as she directed her visitors to their seats.

As soon as they were seated, she wasted no time before coming directly to the point.

‘Mr Griff,’ she said, ‘our friend Captain Lightower has
just brought me the astonishing news he knows something pertaining to Sophia.’

‘Indeed?’ said Mr Griff in surprise, and then both he and Mistress Blade turned expectantly towards Captain Lightower who, finding it difficult to meet their demanding eyes, coughed, and turned away a little.

‘Madam,’ he said, ‘it must be unbearably painful for you to consider the possibility that your daughter perished in the terrible fire last evening. It is therefore imperative that I waste no time in bringing you my belief that your daughter did not perish at all, and that on the contrary she …’

Jenny Blade started forward, interrupting, ‘Your belief, sir? Not perished?’

‘Explain yourself man!’ demanded Mr Griff.

‘I have come upon the knowledge that your daughter, in fact, escaped the flames before they took hold, but in a state of shock and bewilderment wandered from the house and was rescued by a person unknown.’

‘Person unknown!’ cried Mr Griff. ‘What do you mean, sir?’

And at the same time Jenny Blade demanded, ‘Where is she? Where is Sophie?’

‘She is perfectly well,’ said Captain Lightower, ‘completely unscathed, in fact. However, it is thought best that she rest in the safekeeping of—’

‘Tell me where she is,’ said Jenny Blade, rising to her feet.

‘Perfectly safe, I assure you,’ said Captain Lightower, rubbing his hands together. ‘Quite unscathed, although shocked, of course, shocked. Your gratitude for these good
tidings, I trust,’ he added, ‘may prompt you to reconsider your decision to assist me in my passage to—’

‘Where is she?’ repeated Jenny Blade, an edge of steel in her voice.

Mr Griff now stood as well, and Captain Lightower, intimidated by their standing presence, clambered to his feet too.

‘I am not yet in a position to tell you where she is,’ he began, ‘except to—’

‘Captain Lightower,’ said Jenny Blade with a fury barely contained, ‘am I to understand that you know where my daughter is and yet you are denying me this information?’

‘Captain—’

‘Am I further to understand that this is a clumsy attempt to blackmail me?’

‘No, not at all—’

‘Using Sophie as some sort of gambling counter?’

‘You must understand, Mistress Blade,’ said Captain Lightower nervously, ‘that I genuinely do not know the whereabouts of your daughter. My sources are not first hand. If you give me your leave, I will endeavour to gain more information. My only motive was to let you know what I have heard in order to ease your mind …’

‘You have not eased my mind, sir,’ said Jenny Blade staring at him with hostility, ‘you have angered my mind.’

‘Let me add, sir,’ said Mr Griff, ‘that if you know the whereabouts of Miss Sophia and are playing silly games with us I will personally slice you from your chops to your stockings.’

‘I do understand your deep feelings, madam, sir,’ said
Captain Lightower hastily. ‘They will be a spur to my efforts to locate your—’

‘Go!’ said Jenny Blade, ‘before I regret myself. Find my daughter, and bring her to me, or believe me it’s not Kingston you’ll be bound for, but hell!’

That threat was the only word of farewell Jenny Blade allowed herself, for she pointed to the door and there could be no mistaking her meaning. Captain Lightower flushed and left immediately with only the faintest of bows. Mr Griff followed him grimly to the door, and then returned to confer with his captain.

This startling news filled me with joy. If the captain were to be believed — and what reason was there to doubt him? — Sophie was alive. There would be a time later to discover how this miracle had occurred, but right now I simply wanted to dance with delight. At the same time, I was torn. I wanted to follow the captain and yet I wanted to stay and hear what Jenny Blade and Mr Griff were making of the situation.

In the end there was no choice, really. I had to follow Captain Lightower. My mission was to find Sophie if at all possible.

I slipped out of the cabin and back onto the quarterdeck. Already the captain had hurried down the gangplank and was striding back towards the town. I ran along behind him. When I reached the esplanade end of the quay I glanced back towards the
Medusa
and was not surprised to see Big Caleb and Billy following the captain as well.

The captain, not long after we had reached the main
thoroughfare, turned back as well, and must have caught sight of his pursuers. Billy was lost in the crowd, but there was no hiding Caleb.

I had hoped the captain might have led me directly to wherever Sophie was being held. However, possibly because of Caleb and Billy, he merely returned to his lodging house.

I flew over the house to see if there was any back entrance that would allow him to give his watchers the slip, but there was none. For the meantime, the captain then was safely stowed. Once more, I stationed myself in the tree overlooking the door. Billy and Caleb thought likewise, although they placed themselves in the shade of the building opposite.

While in my tree, I began to consider the captain’s tale. It made little sense. The captain had only been in the Cove a few hours, far too short a time to have cultivated any accomplices. In any case, his being as he put it ‘an officer in the service of the king’ would have won him few friends in this community of pirates and freebooters. On the contrary, as I witnessed yesterday, he would be an object of suspicion.

What was true of people was also true of places. I had a good sense of the geography of the Cove, its harbour and hinterland, but I could fly, I could see the place spread below me like a map. There had been little opportunity for the captain to have discovered a secure place to hide Sophie.

The doctor … Of course, the doctor must be involved. I had not seen the doctor. He was the only acquaintance the captain had here. I suddenly realised that were I to find
the doctor, I would undoubtedly find Sophie.

But where?

They must have snatched or snared Sophie — it was looking more and more likely that this is what had happened — either just before or just after the fire began. It must have been after dark.

This meant that whoever did snatch Sophie would have needed to travel with her in the dark through unknown terrain and that must mean to a place not too far away. I could not imagine the doctor taking time to explore the area in the vicinity of the house on the bluff; he would have been too concerned with his next glass of rum. The captain would have been sober, but he would not have had a lot of time either.

I recalled my flying over the town earlier. The forest was all about except for isolated little clearings where there were tiny farms and vegetable patches. There must be such a clearing close to the site of Jenny Blade’s house.

I reckoned I could leave the captain safely guarded by Caleb and Billy and so flew back towards the smouldering ruin on the bluff. This time, instead of following the path, I flew low over the surrounding trees looking for any clearing.

It didn’t take long to find.

Less than half a league away from the house, about halfway between it and the Cove but well off the path, I discovered a cleared patch that may once have supported a garden but which was overgrown and abandoned. A ramshackle hut was all that was left but the wide eaves of its twiggy roof were still sufficient to offer shade to a
familiar figure lying, possibly asleep, against a wall.

It was Dr Hatch. He was not quite asleep; he was still conscious enough to flag away the occasional insect buzzing about his bare and perspiring torso. His white shirt lay beside him along with an empty bottle.

I dropped to the ground and ran to the hut. The door fell open as soon as I pushed at it.

Sophie sat in one corner on the dirt floor. Her hands were tied behind her back and a scarf tied about her mouth. Her eyes widened when she saw me, but she could not stand up. I immediately saw that the rope that bound her hands was also twisted and twisted and then knotted about a pole supporting the ceiling. It was gloomy inside the hut but even in the dim light I could see that Sophie did not look as if she had been injured.

I hurried to her and was able to pull the scarf away easily.

‘Sophie, are you all right?’

She nodded, but then said vehemently, ‘I am not all right, Loblolly Boy. I have been sorely treated and I am very angry!’

And thank you for rescuing me, I thought.

‘Somebody will pay for this outrage!’ cried Sophie, and I was reminded as never before that she was the daughter of Jenny Blade.

‘What happened?’ I asked, although to me now it was very apparent what had happened.

Sophie confirmed this. ‘Some marauding rogues seized me last night and dragged me here. I had just left the house to see whether the storm had eased, when I was grabbed and muffled and a bag or some such pulled over my head.’