Caribee Page 6

  'Oh, we've teeth,' Hilton said. 'Five pieces to a broad side, and a couple of sakers aft, with a falconer on the poop to discourage boarders. Well not fall tamely to any Spaniard, you may be sure of that. But where we really have our strength is up there. Speed, lad. That's our secret.'

  They stood at the foot of the mainmast, and Edward gazed aloft into the forest of rigging and furled sails.

  'Think you'd make the main top?' Hilton asked.

  ‘It looks hardly higher than a stout oak,' Edward said.

  'And stout oaks mean nothing to your worship,' Hilton observed. 'Except that should you have to climb that one at sea, she'll be hanging sideways over the waves, and you'll be food for the sharks.'

  'Have you ever fallen overboard?' Edward asked.

  Hilton glanced at him, and flushed. ‘I'm to show you the ship,' he said, and opened a door in the after bulkhead. Here was a large cabin, although so low that Hilton had to stoop and Edward's head all but brushed the deck beams. There was a table, bolted to the floor, and berths along each bulkhead. 'The lads sleep here,' Hilton said. 'Gentlemen, you'll understand. We'd be ship's officers, in a normal crew. But we're colonists first.'

  ‘I thought you were the mate,' Edward said.

  Another quick glance. 'Colonists first.' Hilton went farther aft and down a short ladder. 'Now here's the tiller.'

  But the huge piece of timber leading to the rudder interested Edward less than the even bigger saker, protruding through the open port. And then the nearness of the water. Down here it was not six feet awav. 'Do the waves ever come in?"

  'Often enough. 'Tis like a dark hole at sea, with the ports shut. You'll smell the tar? ‘It is pleasant enough.'

  'We're alongside. She'll take on a different aroma when we're at sea. We've a driving admiral, Master Warner. What thought you of him?'

  'He looks a sound man,' Edward said.

  'God's blood," Hition remarked. 'How old did you say you were?'

  ‘I am all but twelve years old,' Edward said. 'And I have seen a deal of life. I knew Sir Walter Raleigh.'

  'Did you now.' Hilton led him forward from the tiller, bending low to avoid the deck beams, and down another ladder into the bowels of the ship. Here there was a single lantern, and the smell of tar, added to the stench from a coal fire, welled around them, while they could hear the lapping of the water above their heads. "The orlop deck,' Hilton said. Where we store our food. You'll see those barrels? Salted beef, to last us the voyage. And biscuits. Tis bad enough now, but it will be far worse ere we have been a week at sea, when the weevils come crawling out of every mouthful.'

  'You'll not disgust me, Mr Hilton,' Edward said. ‘I have seen a man taken apart at Tyburn.'

  'Have you now.' Hilton descended the ladder into the hold. 'Yet I would say there is some difference between watching an event and participating in it. I doubt you'd do so well at sea, Master Warner.'

  ‘I'd do as well as you, sir,' Edward insisted, following him down the ladder. Now as he stood on an open grating, beneath which black water slurped to and fro in the bilges, while the stored casks of food and water rose around him on every side; but at least they could stand upright.

  'You think so?' Hilton inquired. 'Well, 'tis easily decided, if you have the nerve.'

  'You'll not find me lacking, sir,' Edward declared, keeping a guard on his temper with difficulty.'

  'We'll see,' Hilton decided. 'Holloa, Ben. Dicky. Come and see our new mate.'

  They emerged from behind the barrels, where, Edward had to suppose, they had been lurking all the while. Thus Hilton had known they were there, both when guiding him in this direction and when beginning this conversation. Edward cast a glance towards the ladder, but Dick had already taken up his position there. And this pair he liked even less than Hilton; they were no older, but scarcely had so prepossessing features.

  'He don'‘I look the type to me, Mr Hilton,' Ben observed. 'A regular mother's boy, he looks to me.'

  Edward licked his lips. Suddenly he was afraid. But his very fear gave him a desperate courage. 'Tell me what I must do,' he said.

  'Oh, we shall do that,' Hilton said, leaning against a barrel and folding his arms. 'The secret of success at sea is comradeship, and determination, and silent courage. Tis a hard, uncomfortable life, but if you'd be a mate of ours you'd have to prove to us you can stand up to anything.'

  ‘I can,' Edward declared.

  'Well see,' Hilton said again. 'You've that pot of tar handy, Ben?'

  'Right here, Mr Hilton.' Benjamin produced the large pot out of the darkness. The liquid in it looked more like treacle, and was black and sinister, giving off a strong smell; it still smoked from the heat which had melted it.

  'Now we'll have your breeches down,' Hilton said.

  'What for?' Edward demanded, his voice trembling.

  'Because, if you'd be a seaman. Master Warner, you have to learn to live with tar. We'll give you a coat, from your navel to your knee, and all the inbetweens, Master Warner, and we'll see how you react to that for an hour or two.'

  ‘It burns,' Benjamin whispered in Edward's ear. 'Oh, mighty unpleasant it is, Master Warner. But if you can stand it without crying for your Mum, well, then, you'll be one of us.'

  The tears were already there, lurking at the back of his eyes, threatening to make the horrible day worse. 'How'11 I get it off, after?'

  'Now there's a problem,' Hilton agreed. 'You'll not be riding again this day, I hope? That'll be uncomfortable, for certain.'

  Edward stared at his grinning face, and turned to look at Benjamin, stirring the pot of tar, and Dick, leaning against the ladder. Now he could no longer control the tears which rolled down his cheeks. But they were tears of anger and indignation, more than fear. He had so wanted to enjoy this journey. He had been enjoying this journey, so much, until now. And he was Edward Warner, Son of Captain Thomas Warner, Why, Hilton had been glad enough to bow and scrape before Father.

  'You'll not touch me,' he said. 'Stand aside, please. I wish to rejoin my father.

  'There,' Hilton said. 'What did I tell you, lads? He's not really cut out to be a sailor, after all.'

  'You let me pass,' Edward demanded.

  Benjamin looked at Hilton.

  'But as he's here,' Hilton said. 'We may as well have a little sport with him. Tell you what, Master Warner, well just put a little tar on, in one or two places, so's you get the feel.'

  'You'll not,' Edward shouted. 'You'll not'

  'Hold his arms, Benjamin,' Hilton commanded. 'Dicky, come grab his legs while I get those breeches offl He'll be a sight for sore eyes, I'll wager.'

  'You'll not,' Edward screamed, and kicked Benjamin on the ankle.

  'Ow,' Benjamin roared, and dropped the tar pot. 'Ow, me God.'

  'You'll not,' Edward screamed again, and kicked him again, this time in the stomach as he bent over. Suddenly all of the vicious anger he had known at Tyburn welled into his stomach, but this time he did not feel sick; he wanted to hurt them, all of them, wanted to kill them, in his hate.

  Benjamin howled and rolled against the barrels.

  'By Christ, you little beast,' Hilton shouted, reaching for him. But Edward ducked under his arms, scooped up the tar pot—it lay on its side and the evil liquid was already running across the grating and dripping through into the bilges—and swung it around before letting it go. Hilton received the full contents on the chest. He tumbled backwards, and Edward made for the ladder, but checked as he saw Dick waiting for him.

  'By Christ,' Hilton said again, getting to his feet. 'You gutter rat. By Christ, I'll have the skin off your arse, before I stuff tar up it, by Christ. Benjamin, fetch that rope's end.'

  Benjamin was struggling to his knees, still muttering and cursing.

  Edward looked right and left, and saw the rope lying across a barrel. It was about five feet long, and ended in a series of nasty looking knots, tight and hard to break the skin where they bruised. He sucked air into his lungs, leapt across the hold, a
nd seized it.

  'Get him,' Hilton bawled, attempting to claw tar from his clothes.

  Benjamin came towards Edward, and Edward took hold of the rope in both hands, and swung it as hard as he could. The knots took Benjamin across the face and he gave a howl of real pain and fell back, while blood spurted from a cut on his cheek.

  'Don'‘I just stand there, Dicky,' Hilton bellowed. 'Go get him.'

  Dick chuckled, and came forward. Edward swung the rope, to and fro again, and Dick hesitated, beginning to crouch.

  ‘I'll kill you,' Edward said, in a low voice. 'You come a step nearer and I'll kill you, by God.'

  Dick glanced at Hilton, who removed another lump of hardening tar and threw it on the deck, before raising his head in a frown.

  'And you,' Edward said.

  'By Christ,' Hilton said, half to himself. ‘I believe you would, if you could. His name is Warner, lads, remember that. His father is a famous soldier. Seems the cub has all that spirit, too.'

  'You'll help me, Mr Hilton,' Dick said, weaving to and fro, and watching the rope's end. Behind him Benjamin sat against the barrels and moaned.

  ‘I'll not, Dicky,' Hilton said. 'Who'd have thought it, a lad of twelve taking on three strapping louts like us. So you won'‘I have tar on your tool, Mr Warner. That's a fair decision, and a bold one. So let's call it a halt. Put down your rope, and here's my hand on it.'

  Edward hesitated. Of course if the three boys really wanted to capture him they could do so without the slightest trouble. Slowly he lowered the rope.

  'You're an honest fellow, Master Warner.' Hilton came across the hold, hand outstretched, and Edward dropped the rope and extended his own.

  'Got you,' Dick shouted, and threw both arms around Edward's waist.

  'Dishonest wretch,' Edward exclaimed.

  'He is that,' Hilton agreed, and fetched Dick such a buffet across the ear he cannoned into the barrels and joined Benjamin on the deck. ‘I gave my word, and Tony Hilton's word sticks.' He squeezed Edward's hand. 'Master Warner, I'll tell you straight, when I clapped eyes on you I put you down for a right dandy with ideas above his age. Now, sir, I'd be proud to have you along. Let's go on deck and leave these two rascals to themselves.'

  'Willingly, sir,' Edward agreed. 'And I am happy to have made your acquaintance.'

  That night Edward and his father were given a berth in one of the tiny cabins opening off the wardroom, for there was scarce a bed to be had in the town. This was after dinner in the great cabin, at which Master Hilton attended, together with Mr North's officers, while a variety of wines and toasts were indulged, and the deck beams rang with song and laughter. Edward was overwhelmed, and now he had a friend. Hilton kept winking at him, and making faces behind his glass as he mimicked his betters.

  But even Father seemed to be impressed with the preparations, and the spirit of the crews. 'Tell me, boy,' he asked, as they climbed into their bunks. 'What do you make of the ship?"

  ‘It is magnificent, Father,' Edward cried, hopping up and down in his nightshirt. ‘It is so much larger than I imagined, and so . . . so . . . so magnificent'

  "You'll not have forgotten that we are still moored alongside a dock, I hope. But I like the adventure in the air. And I like this North. The venture will do well. Almost I wish I had accepted my lord of Warwick's invitation to sail with them.'

  'And I, Father,' Edward said. 'You promised you'd take me on your next campaign.'

  Then I'd be daft indeed.' Tom Warner pulled the blanket to his neck. 'Ah, well, well tarry tomorrow, and then begin our journey home.'

  A moment later he snored, and Edward had to blow out the candle. He had little chance of sleep himself, he imagined. But then, he had no wish to sleep. He did not wish to miss a single moment on board the ship. He lay in his narrow bunk, and felt the vessel move, for a slight breeze had sprung up; now the warps creaked, and the timbers too, and he could hear the whisper of water past the sides, and there were twanging noises from the rigging, and scurrying noises from within the hull, sounds which would at home have had him sitting up in bed with fear, but which seemed the most natural in the world. While from above there was the steady tap tap of the boots of the night watchmen patrolling the deck.

  He wondered if Tony Hilton slept. He had made a friend, of a man who was going out into the world to seek his fortune, and he could hardly be older than eighteen. Perhaps less. But he had proved himself. He sweated with excitement when he thought of it.

  He slept before he realized how tired he was, and dreamed he was standing on the poop deck of a tall ship, conning her through a narrow passage between jagged rocks and raging seas, with Walter Raleigh on one side of him, and Tony Hilton on the other; he wore a sword, and there were loaded brass cannon on the deck, for at any moment a great Spaniard might appear out of the night, ports open and blazing flame.

  He woke to the crashing of feet, and sat up so suddenly he banged his head on the deck beams.

  'What in God's name....' Father was also awake, and pulling on his breeches. Edward hurried behind him into the main cabin where Mr North and his sailing master faced a messenger whose cloak and boots scattered mud on to the clean deck.

  'What a devil of a noise,' Tom said. ts daybreak always like this at sea?'

  'Would that we were at sea,' said the master, a little bluff man named Henry Ashton, with short hair and short features, too, the whole made pleasant by his ready smile. 'But the admiral has received ill news.'

  North had finished reading the paper. "The Spaniards have got word of our expedition, and Gondomar is to protest to His Majesty.'

  'But the grant is given,' Ashton protested.

  'Grants can be revoked, Hal.'

  ‘I'd trust my lord of Warwick to fight for his property, Mr North,' Tom said. 'And he has the King's ear.'

  'He would fight, Captain Warner, had he that precious possession. But this message is from him. He has quarrelled with Villiers, and is confined.'

  'My God,' Tom said. 'The Tower?'

  'His house, for the moment. Who can say about later?'

  'And what would he have us do, sir?' Ashton asked.

  North scratched his chin. 'As we think best,' he said slowly. 'His words. Words he seldom uses. I wonder what...' he raised his head, gazed at Tom. But Tom was also frowning.

  'Warwick confined,' he said, half to himself. 'This affair touches us all, Mr North.'

  'Aye,' North agreed. His forehead slowly cleared, and his mouth set in a firm line. ‘I have a copy of the grant here on board this ship. It says that we are to proceed whenever we are provisioned.'

  "Which will take not less than another month to accomplish, sir,' Ashton protested.

  'To accomplish to our satisfaction, Mr Ashton. Life is ever an unsatisfactory affair. It will take only a few hours to fill our water casks. When is tide full?"

  Ashton's turn to frown. 'At dusk, sir.'

  'Then pass the word, quietly, to my other captains to make ready for sea. We shall leave this night.' 'But, sir . ..'

  'Or we shall be forced to seek fresh employment, Mr Ashton. And I for one, have invested too much in this venture for it not to succeed. But let us put to sea, and Gondomar will waste his words on the empty ocean. Now see to it, man.' He clapped Ashton on the shoulder, pushed him towards the companion ladder, and turned back to Tom. 'Captain Warner, it truly grieves me that our acquaintance has had to be of such short order. But you'll understand the circumstances.'

  "Warwick imprisoned,' Tom muttered. This is a serious blow, Mr North. I am in none too good an odour at court myself, save through the intercession of the earl.'

  'Then you had best look to yourself, sir. I have observed that heavy weights, in falling, invariably bring down with them any and all to which they may be attached.'

  Tom was pulling his nose. 'While you sail away to freedom. I tell you, man... you'll know it was the earl's wish that I accompany your"

  tndeed I do, sir. And were you to decide on that, I would be the happi
est of men.'

  'With no money contributed to the venture?'

  ‘I'll accept your experience of warfare in lieu of money, Captain Warner. We may seek peace, but 'tis likely some sort of defence will be forced upon us. You'll have command of my military.'

  ‘I will have to make arrangements for the boy; Berwicke will certainly accompany me.'

  'Youll wish him returned to Framlingham,' North said thoughtfully. 'Now there will be a problem. But we shall certainly find him a room here in Plymouth until a suitable companion can be found to take him home. I'll speak with my factor.'

  'Father,' Edward cried.

  'Boy, there are times when a man must act. This is destiny.'

  ‘I do not quarrel with that, sir,' Edward said desperately. 'But why send me back? There are boys on this ship not greatly my elders. And Mama is well cared for by Uncle Edward. Be sine that I shall only be a nuisance to her. And will you not be sending for her within the year?'

  'Take an eleven-year-old, to Guyana?' Tom asked at large.

  'You would leave me in Plymouth, sir, a prey to Heaven knows what temptations.'

  North was grinning. 'He seems a likely lad, to be sure, Mr Warner. And if we are to found a nation, there will have to be other eleven-year-olds, and less.'

  'And you promised, Father,' Edward begged. 'Be sure that if left behind I shall dwindle into a skeleton, and a vagabond besides.'

  'And would Mrs Warner ever forgive me?'

  'She gave you her blessing, Father,' Edward pointed out. "Please, Father. I'll not disgrace you. This I swear.'

  Tom chewed his lip and pulled his nose, and then smiled. ‘It goes against my nature to send you back. You've the spirit of Wat Raleigh tucked away in there, Edward. You'll find me paper, Mr North, if you will. I've a letter I must write. Edward, locate Berwicke, and tell him there's been a change of plan. We'll go and see if we can find this El Dorado.'

  3

  The Enchanted Isle

  'Handed over to the Inquisition, they was.' Niles the boatswain settled himself in front of his scanty meal with a sigh of pleasure. 'Careless, see, lads. They was making down this river by pinnace to regain the ship they'd left snug at anchor, and they killed birds for food, and dropped the feathers over the side, so the Dons figured which way they'd gone. Burned, they was, Oxenham and all his men. Oh, savage, the Dons.'