Sackett's Land (1974) (8 page)

"Where then?" Jublain asked.

"There is a place," Corvino said, "kept by a sailor's wife. It is clean, well-kept. I have stayed there."

"And there's the ship," I said, "we can go aboard her."

Yet we had left some few things at the Tabard, and went back for them. Coveney Hasling was in the common room when we entered.

"Ah? You have returned," he greeted me. "I have some things." I said.

Taking our ale with us, we climbed to our room on the floor above. There I opened the packet and showed him, explaining the find.

"Excellent!" He pinched his nose with two fingers as he studied them one by one. "Truly excellent. This packet, as is, will bring a pretty price. As for the coins--"

"Do take them then," I said, "and do the best you can. Pay the money, when you get it, to my account with Captain Tempany, and I'll be obliged."

Pushing the packet to Hasling, I said, "Jublain, you and Corvino take our goods to the Tempany ship. It is theTiger ... a three-master of two hundred tons, no forecastle. Take our goods aboard and await me there. I must go to Saint Paul's Walk."

"Do you be careful, then," Jublain said. "It is a place where anything might happen."

"Genester will not yet have the news of what happened, I think. Those who fail are not swift to report their failure. I shall go, then come on board with the remainder of our goods."

"Our goods?" Jublain stared at me. "Yours, rather."

"Ours," I said, "one-half for me, one-quarter each for you. If either of you decides to leave, you leave your goods as well."

Corvino smiled. "It is more than I ever had, this lot," he said. "And I shall stay with you, Master Sackett."

"I, also," Jublain said. "One way or the other I am like to get a cracked skull. It is better in company that I like."

Saint Paul's Walk was crowded as ever, yet I found my way to Peter Tallis's stall. He smiled up at me, and thrust a packet of manuscript to me. "There it is," he said, "ready and waiting."

I ran through the lot, scanning a page here and there. It was, indeed, what I wanted. I paid the sum.

Tallis smiled at me as he took it. "If you've further need for such things," he said, "I can put a hand upon them. I like your business. It is different."

"We will talk, then." I sat down on a bench. "You may be able to help me more."

He indicated the sheaf of manuscript. "Most of what I do is dull stuff. This I enjoyed. I read it. Now I know more of England than else I should ever have known."

"It is said," I began, "there are charts to be had of the New World. Charts even the Admirals know nothing of."

"Charts?" His eyes wrinkled at the corners. "Yes, yes, of course. It is a quiet pleasure of mine, this matter of charts. Richard Hakluyt has come to me from time to time, but he wants the accounts more than the charts, and also--"

"Also?"

"He has too many friends who are men of power. I sometimes come upon things it would be difficult to explain. But to you ...?"

"To me? I would say nothing of the source. Talk to me of charts."

He stood up to gather his gear together. "I will close the booth. There is a tavern close by. I think we will talk better there."

Peter Tallis was no common man but a scholar in his way, a shrewd man with not too many scruples but more than enough interest in my trade. Over ale in the shadows of a small place nearby we talked. Finally, it was agreed. For a fitting sum, he removed from his bundle and gave me a dozen charts.

We talked of many things, and the hour grew late. Finally, my roll of charts beneath my arm, I returned to the Tabard. All was quiet. Only one man loafed about, a dark, sullen-looking fellow with a wet look to his eyes I did not like. He lurked near a cart, and I asked him if it was his, and for hire. To both questions he agreed.

With his help I loaded the rest of my goods into the cart, including in one of the bags the charts I had obtained.

"I want to go to theTiger. Do you know the ship?"

"Tempany's vessel? I know it."

It took us several trips. A soft rain was falling by the time we last were loaded. Hunched in my heavy cloak, I walked behind the cart, whose wheels rumbled over the cobbles.

I saw the spars of theTiger looming ahead. Beside it the La Rochelle pinnace that was Nick Bardle's ship, theJolly Jack.

Tired as I was, and sleepy, I thought only of the warm bunk awaiting me aboard theTiger. I glanced at Bardle's ship, all dark and still, yawned, then heard a rush of feet behind me.

Turning swiftly, my hand went to my sword hilt, but my heavy cloak got in the way, and the carter suddenly jostled me off-balance. They closed in on me from all sides. I struggled, but my arms were pinned to my side, a cloak thrown over my head and jerked tight around me, my cries muffled. A blow on the head caused me to fall. I started to rise, saw the futility of it. For if I tried again, they might kill me there. If I lay quiet, they might think me worse off than I was.

A voice said, "Well done!" I heard a clink of coins from hand to hand. "Remember, Bardle, I never want to see or hear of him again!"

"No need to fret. There's a sight of deep water betwixt here and America!"

Chapter
7

Rough hands took me up and I was carried aboard and dropped through a hatch to the cargo. My goods were dumped in after me, and the hatch was battened down. It was close and hot in the hold.

When the hatch was closed I tried to sit up but my head spun and pain throbbed dizzily in my skull. I managed to free my body from the cloak. I lay back, breathing heavily in the close, hot air. I had been hit harder than I realized, a mild concussion. After a bit my consciousness slipped away and there was a long time when I was unaware of anything.

It was the movement that brought me alive, movement of a ship on the water. We must have come down the river during the night for there was more than river in the movement I felt. I sat up groggily, choking with thirst.

It was totally black in the hold, and when I tried to stand my head bumped the edge of the hatch.

There was a pounding of feet on the deck, shouting, and the creak of timbers. The ship began to move faster. I could feel it, I thought. I sat down, holding my head in my hands. They had me then, Nick Bardle, at Rupert Genester's orders.

Well, they wouldn't keep me. What was it he had said: there's a lot of deep water? We'd see about that.

I shook my head, and pain shot through me. No matter. I would have to be ready. I had no wish to die, to let such a scoundrel win.

What had they said of Bardle? That if he was shorthanded he would grab some country lad? Well, he had me. I doubted he would kill me when there was work to be had from me. And I was strong. In the quarries they had said I was strong as any two men. Yet I knew I was even stronger.

No matter what happened, I must get them to keep me alive and working. Then I could watch my chance. Nick Bardle would be no fool; he would know most of the dodges. Best not to fight unless they tried to kill me, not resist, not argue. Hold myself tight, and wait.

Again I slept, and when I opened my eyes it was to the deeper roll of the open sea. Scarcely had they opened when the hatch covers were lifted and a head thrust over the combing. "All right! Up with you! There's work to be done!"

I jumped up, caught the edge of the hatch and swung to the deck.

The mate drew back. He was a stocky, redheaded, red-faced man with a deep scar over his right eye. His small blue eyes were hard and mean. He was expecting trouble, and he had two stalwart men behind him ... tough men by the looks of them.

"A ship!" I said. "Well, cursed I am if I am not on a ship! This is what I'd hoped for, to find a ship and get to sea!"

They were surprised. They stared. They had expected anger, protests, shouts, and trouble. Here I was, grinning at them.

"Will you show me how to be a sailor? All my life, I've wanted to go to sea!"

"We'll show you, all right!" The mate hadn't decided whether to be pleased or disappointed. "Get for'rd!"

Quickly, I obeyed, and when the hands turned to hoist the fores'l, I was in a hurry to help.

The hatch lay open, and I was scared. What if they examined my goods? But they did not. After awhile, the hatch was battened again.

It went against my grain to take the pushing I took, and no Sackett I ever heard of had stood for such action. Yet when I looked about me at the rest of the crew, I could see they were a bad lot, and no help would I get from them.

Anyway, that would be mutiny. Only it had to be mutiny, or something like it.

Now I made like I knew nothing about a ship, but I did. We in the fens often sailed out to sea. Wanting to make them feel they'd like to keep me alive, I buckled to and worked hard enough for two men.

By the third day I heard the mate, whose name was Berryman, tell Cap'n Bardle. "Don't you be hasty, Cap'n. That Sackett is worth two of any man aboard. He's got to be soft in the head, all he talks about is how he always wanted to be a sailorman. But he works like the devil and he's handy."

Bardle watched me then, whenever he was on deck. Several times he and Berryman talked, and one time Berryman asked, "You was a farmer ashore?"

"In the fens. We used boats a lot."

That seemed to satisfy them for awhile, but finally Berryman came to me again. "How'd a farmer like you get enemies?"

Now I had my chance, and I took it. I wanted them to have reason to keep me alive. "There's some that wanted me dead," I agreed, "but there's others who'd pay twice as much to keep me alive."

Nick Bardle had all he was likely to get from Rupert Genester, but here was another thought: there might be more to be made.

"That don't foller," Berryman commented, after a moment or two. "Who'd want you alive?"

"Now think." I said, "if a man will pay to have me dead, it's because he stands to profit by it. Just as he will profit if I die, there's others will lose, and those others want me alive.

"The man who wants me dead hasn't much. In fact, if I get back alive, he hasn't anything."

For two weeks then, all went well. I worked hard. They avoided me, but they made no effort to push me into dangerous jobs. Yet I trusted none of them. They were thieves and murderers, and I knew my time was short. They would mull it over, and they would decide if I had to die. There was too much chance of what I'd do to them if I somehow got back to England.

The weather held good. I kept an eye out for a distant sail, expecting Captain Tempany to be coming along soon, but I doubted he would want to overhaul theJolly Jack. She had twelve guns that were heavier than those I'd seen on theTiger. Moreover, theJack clearly had a crew of pirates, or the next thing to them.

Then we came upon a spell of bad weather, with the wind set contrary, and made a bad time of it, day after day. Tempers grew short, and as best I could, I kept from the gaze of Berryman or Bardle, knowing I was the likely scapegoat. We sighted a sail once, then, on the fifth day of bad weather. But it was some distance off and where it sailed there was wind, as we could see the sails filled and the wind ruffling the water.

There was a man aboard to whom I found some liking--a brawny young man, strong yet not tall, a man of dark skin, yet not a Negro. He was a Moor, he told me, but I knew aught of Moors. He said a Moor was a man of Arab blood born in Africa, in the north of Africa where there were few blacks except slaves ... and as many white slaves as black. His name was Sakim.

He was a good man at sea, and an able one. He had watched me from time to time but had said nothing until on this fifth day when we watched the far-off sail, he spoke softly, "No matter who she is, I'd prefer it to this."

"And I," I replied, with candor.

After a moment I said, "Are there others who feel so?"

"There's one," he said, "the Neapolitan, Rufisco."

He, too, had I seen: a small, agile man who reminded me of Corvino. It was something in their movements, their manner.

"Something might be done," I said, "if you've a mind to chance it."

"At sea?" he stared at me doubtfully.

"Near the shore." I said. "There's a coast off the mainland yonder."

"And savages?" he suggested.

"Better a risk of what we do not know than what we know. They do not intend me to return," I added. "I have nothing to lose. But you?"

"Nothing," he said. "I will speak to Rufisco."

There was hard work then, trimming sail with a squall coming up, and the wind ruffling the water in our direction. Our craft heeled far over under the blast, righted and put her bows down and went to it. She was a good sailer, thatJolly Jack, and belied her owners.

Nothing had come of my words with Sakim, but at least he seemed to keep them quiet.

We finally caught a decent wind and turned to the southwest with occasional squalls of rain but always some wind. And then, on the sixty-seventh day out, we sighted land again. It was far off, and not to be made out, but Bardle simply gave our craft a little more southing and ignored the land.