К Сэнсом - Heartstone

A wave of relief ran through me. I tried to move, despite the pain that flashed through my body, terrified he would leave. I managed to scrape my bound heels across the floor. ‘Matthew?’ he called again. He had heard. I scraped my heels again. There was a moment’s silence, then a crash as Leacon put his shoulder to the door. Someone outside called ‘Hey!’

‘There’s someone shut up in here!’ A moment later, with a tremendous crash, the flimsy door splintered open and light spilled through, searing my eyes.

The voice outside called again, ‘What in God’s name’s going on, man?’

Leacon was staring through the open doorway, unbelievingly. ‘There’s a civilian in here!’ he called back. He smashed his shoulder against the door again, making a gap wide enough to enter. The officer who had called out to him came across and stared in at me, wide-eyed.

‘What the hell – do you know him?’

‘Yes, he is a friend.’

‘God’s holy wounds! Who the fuck tied him up in there? Sort it out,’ the officer snapped. ‘Get him off the gundeck!’

Leacon stepped into the cabin. He took out his knife, cut my bonds and removed the gag. I lay on my back and groaned, sucking in air, unable for the moment to move.

‘God’s death, who did this to you?’ Leacon’s face was tired, dirty, streaked with perspiration. He wore his helmet, a padded jack and his officer’s sword.

‘Philip West.’ My voice came out as a croak. ‘I found out – something – that he once did.’

‘You came on board to confront him?’ Leacon asked unbelievingly.

‘Yes. What time is it?’

‘Past three o’clock.’

‘Jesu. I’ve been here since last night. What’s happening? I heard gunfire –’

‘The French have brought five of their galleys forward again, but our guns are keeping them at a distance. We hit one. It trailed back to the main fleet, listing. There’s no wind, neither our warships nor theirs can move. The French have used some galleys to land on the Isle of Wight. We can see fires. Just as well, if they’d sent them all against us we’d be in worse trouble. If there’s a wind when the tide is right we’re going to sail out against them.’

‘What’s happening outside? I heard the cannon being moved, but no firing.’

‘They’re making the guncrews pass the time with practice. This waiting is hard.’

‘Someone shouted something about a pump. I thought we’d been hit –’

‘Some men went below to see, but they don’t think it’s anything serious.’

I sighed with relief. ‘How did you find me?’

‘I overheard two sailors saying a lawyer boarded last night and went below with West, and the boat left without him. They said you were still on the ship, you never came back up. They said –’ he hesitated.

‘I can guess. Hunchbacks bring bad luck. Well, this time their superstition saved me.’

‘I questioned them and they were definite. So I came down to look. I started by going along the gundeck, found that closed door and found you.’

‘Where is West?’

‘Somewhere on board. He went ashore last night to fetch supplies, but half the beer he brought back is bad. My men are parched with thirst. He’s probably up in the forecastle with the purser. I told Sir Franklin I was going to try and find out what was happening with the beer.’

‘Thank you. Thank you. You have saved my life. How are the men?’

‘Tired and hungry. More than half are up on the aftercastle, including the section you know. I’m with them. Others have gone to the forecastle decks. But they’re resolute, they’ll fight and die if it comes.’ Pride and pain mingled in his voice. ‘I have to get back to them. Can you stand if I help you?’

I forced myself to my feet, biting my lip against the pain. ‘God’s death,’ Leacon burst out. ‘West must be mad, leaving you in here.’

‘He meant to deal with me last night, but by the time he’d finished getting the stores some men had been stationed on guard. He and Richard Rich planned this yesterday. I thought I had made a bargain with Rich. Dear God, I was a fool.’

He shook his head sadly. ‘West is known as a fair, hard-working officer.’ He looked at me accusingly. ‘You should have told me he was dangerous.’

‘I did not understand how dangerous until yesterday. But Barak said I was using you and he was right. I am sorry.’

‘Where is Jack?’

‘Well on his way to London.’ I took a deep breath. ‘George, there is something else you will find hard to believe. Something Rich used to get me on the ship – and it’s why your company was put on the Mary Rose . Yesterday you took on a new recruit. Hugh Curteys.’

‘Yes,’ he answered, sounding defensive. ‘He came in the afternoon, he wanted to enlist and I let him. I remembered seeing him that time before, and recalled what a good archer he was. He said his guardian had agreed.’

I smiled wryly. ‘Did you believe that?’

‘All the companies are under-strength. If I had refused he would only have got himself into another.’

‘George, Hugh Curteys is not who he says. He is not even a boy. “He” is a girl, Hugh’s sister. She has been impersonating him for years.’

He looked at me blankly. ‘What?’

‘That wretched man Hobbey forced the impersonation on her, for gain. He has admitted it. George, please, take me up to the aftercastle with you. Let me show you.’

He looked at me dubiously. ‘Can you make it up there?’

‘Yes. If you help me. Please.’

He looked me in the eye. ‘You realize you should try and get off this ship, now. There are a few rowboats going between the ships and shore with messages.’

‘I must take Emma Curteys with me. I’ve got this far, against all my enemies could throw at me.’

Leacon looked round the little cabin, shook his head again, then said, ‘Come.’

‘Thank you again, George.’

As I moved away, my robe caught on a splinter in the planking of the wall. I threw off the filthy, dusty thing, then tore off my coif too. In my shirt, I followed Leacon from the little cabin. As I went out I heard cannonfire. It sounded close.

OUTSIDE, guncrews of half a dozen men stood round the cannon in positions of readiness, in their shirts or bare-chested. The gun ports were open. The air was stifling, thick with the stench of unwashed bodies. Each member of the guncrews stood in a fixed place: one holding a long ladle; another with a wooden linstock and smouldering taper, ready to light the powder; a third with an iron gunball at his feet, ready to load. The master gunners stood behind the guns, watching an officer in doublet and hose, sword at his waist and a whistle round his neck, pacing up and down between the double row of guns. The men lifted tired, strained faces to stare at us. The officer stepped forward, glaring at me. ‘Who the hell are you? Who put you in there?’

‘Assistant-Purser West. He –’

A whistle sounded loudly from the top of the ladder. The officer thrust out his arm to stop us moving. ‘Stay back! Wait here!’

The whistle had been a signal. The officer blew his own whistle and I watched as another practice followed, the crews swinging smoothly into motion, moving with speed and grace. The iron cannon were loaded with shot from the back, the bronze ones, which had been hauled back for the purpose, from chambers at the front. Vents on top of the guns were filled with powder and the bronze guns were rolled forward, the ropes binding them to the walls slackening. The movement made the deck tremble again. Each master gunner placed the taper next to a hole at the back of each gun, into which another man had already mimed pouring in a dob of powder from a flask. Then everyone stopped and waited, still as a tableau for half a minute, until another whistle sounded. The guns were hauled inboard again, and the gunballs removed. Everyone took up their former positions. The officer said, ‘Good enough. We’ll give them a hot cannonade!’ He inclined his head at us. ‘Get out, quick!’