The Falcons of Fire and Ice - By Karen Maitland Page 0,62
accommodate a ship have been leased by the German merchants, mostly from Hamburg, and what remain are in Danish hands. I can assure you I have investigated the matter very thoroughly, for if trade were possible, I myself would be taking my business to that island.’
The master gave a twisted smile, displaying a mouthful of crooked, yellow teeth. ‘And who says we’re going to land any goods? There’s no law against landing people, and if a few barrels should happen to fall over the side whilst we’re helping the passengers off …’ He winked. ‘My lads are sharp enough at sea, but put them anywhere near land and they’re as clumsy as ducks on ice.’
The merchant’s wife positively trembled with outrage, her double chin wobbling like a chicken’s wattle. ‘The agent gave us to understand this was a lawful voyage. My husband is a respectable merchant. He has a reputation to uphold and I will not have his name linked to any nefarious dealings. I have no intention of sailing aboard a … a … pirate ship.’
‘Pirates seize goods, Senhora, they don’t land them, as you’ll soon find out if we have the misfortune to encounter any. Besides, you’re bound for England, what do you care where we go after that?’ The master glared around at the rest of us.
‘Now mark me well. You’ll get two hot meals a day. When you hear the trumpet sound, make haste to the table and eat. When it sounds again, finished or not, you’ve to rise and make way for the captain and his officers. So you’d best eat quick, for the captain doesn’t like to be kept waiting. If you want more food or drink, you’ll have to use your own provisions, so I suggest you stock up well at any inhabited port we call at, for it is getting late in the season now, and we will more than likely run into the first of the autumn gales as we sail. And if we’re forced to spend more weeks at sea than we reckoned on, then be sure of one thing, the captain will not allow his men’s rations of food or water to be shared with passengers, for if the sailors become too weak to work, then we’ll all perish.’
At these words the matron swayed alarmingly as if she was about to swoon, and some of the other passengers looked equally frightened. I also felt an icy shiver. It was not fear of running out of food but of time that frightened me. I could not afford to be delayed at sea, for with every day that passed the shadow of my father’s death crept closer.
With final instructions not to distract the sailors when they were working, not to touch any rope, chain, pulley or windlass, in fact not to do anything at all except eat, sleep and stay out of the seamen’s way, the master grunted that we’d best get what luggage we had brought with us safely stored aboard, for we would be sailing with the next tide.
As soon as he had climbed the steps and disappeared back up through the hatch to the deck, the merchant’s wife immediately claimed a strip in the far back corner, which she deemed to be the most sheltered from draughts, and ordered her husband to stow the towering stack of her bundles and boxes into what seemed by comparison to be a pathetically inadequate ship’s chest.
One of the male passengers bent towards me and whispered, ‘She won’t find that spot so cosy when all of the passengers are vomiting and gasping for air. Take my advice and sleep near one of the anchor holes. It’ll be cold, but the air will be fresher.’
I was about to do as he suggested when the merchant’s wife seized me by the arm. ‘No, no, my dear, you must sleep next to me.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Sailors are little better than savages. The sight of a woman after weeks at sea drives them mad with lust. We must place ourselves as far as possible from the hatchway in case one of them should try to creep down in the night. I tell you, I’ll not be able to shut my eyes all night for fear that they might try to molest me. I begged my husband to allow me to bring my tiring maid, but he refused to pay her passage. Says it will be cheaper to hire new servants when we arrive. But