The Lion Triumphant (19 page)

Fear was back. We were trapped in a miniature floating castle; there was acute danger all about us and our protectors would be helpless against a band of desperate men.

I must face the fact that it was only a matter of waiting.

Morning came—the still and beautiful morning. The sun rose touching the sea with scarlet and began its climb into the sky.

Another day—of breathless calm and growing tension.

We stayed in the cabin. Every time there were footsteps outside the door we started.

The Captain had set the men tasks to perform. They could not swab the decks because there was a shortage of water, but they could carry trays of burning pitch through the mess decks to fumigate them. The odor which came from them was fetid and nauseating. He set them trying to catch fish—a useful occupation, for they could cook what they caught and share it with their comrades.

But even so the tension grew. While they fished they talked of the heretic witch who had set a spell on their ship and was bringing disaster to them all.

Jennet brought news to us.

“The men be getting together this afternoon,” she said. “’Tis a plan of action. They be working out what they’m going to do.”

Her eyes were wide and frightened. She was fond of me.

“Wear the Virgin, Mistress,” she said. “It’ll save ’ee.”

And I put it on, as I said, to please her, but in truth I was ready to clutch anything that could help me and it might do me some good.

They were meeting that afternoon. I was in the cabin and Honey was with me. I did not tell her what Jennet had told me. It would be bad for the baby if she were too frightened.

I imagined what would happen: the sound of feet on the companionway, the hammer of fists on the door.

I made an excuse to leave the cabin. Jennet was at the door, her eyes round with horror.

“What’s happening, Jennet?” I asked.

“They’re up there on the deck,” she said. “None will stop them, Mistress, not even the Captain. They say it’s black magic…”

“They’re coming for me … !”

“Oh, Mistress, it be terrible.”

I started up the companionway. She was pulling at my arm. “Don’t go. If they do see you they’d go mad. You’ve got the Virgin, Mistress. Pray to the Virgin. She protects women.”

I could hear the shouts of the men.

Jennet whispered: “They’m saying you’re a witch. They blame you for all that’s gone wrong. Oh, Mistress, they be building up the fagots on the deck … there. They’ve got the stake to tie you to. It’s what they do to witches.”

“Oh, God, Jennet,” I said. “This is the end … the terrible end.”

“Nay, Mistress, it must not be. I know somewhere we could hide. Alfonso showed me. He puts me in it sometimes … when he won’t be there to look after me. Come quick.”

I followed her, not noticing where we went. In my imagination I could hear the crackle of flames, I could feel my scorched and burning flesh.

I was near to death—horrible death—and the realization was terrifying.

Jennet opened a hatch and we were in a dark hole. The smell was nauseating, but the dark brought comfort.

But for how long could we remain hidden?

Jennet was praying to the Virgin, the protectress of women; and never was a woman more in need of protection.

I prayed with her … prayed for a miracle.

I don’t know how long we stayed in the dark hole. I only know that the miracle happened. After we had been there for what seemed a very long time, the realization came to us that something was happening. The ship was moving.

Jennet cried: “It’s over. The calm’s over.”

She lifted the hatch and stepped out, but she would not let me follow her.

“You stay there where you’m safe. I’ll come back.”

In a short time she returned.

Her face was shining with joy.

“It’s over,” she cried. “There’s a fine breeze. They’re all excited. Nobody’s thinking of you now. You’re safe.”

Yes, the miracle had happened.

What a glorious sight was a ship with its sails bellowing out in the wind, seeming to dip with joy into the ocean as she forged ahead. The wonderful wind was carrying us onward. The sea had become alive again. The calm was over.

Tension eased. There was too much to be done to give the men opportunities to plan mutiny. Orders were shouted and cheerfully obeyed; there was extra food and drink for all to celebrate; there was a thanksgiving service which we did not attend.

A week after the calm we sighted land. We first saw a snow-topped mountain far off, a landmark in the ocean.

The Captain said: “You should prepare to go ashore now. This is the end of your journey.”

We took our few belongings—they were not much, only the clothes we had made for ourselves—and we climbed down into the boat and were rowed ashore. We looked back at the galleon—majestic in the waters—and we knew that we had said good-bye to the old way of life and were embarking on the unknown.

O
N THE SHORE A
party of men with mules were awaiting us. We were clearly expected. I suppose our ship would have been sighted a day before it arrived. We had seen the conical snow-topped mountain jutting out from the ocean; very soon after they must have seen the galleon from the land.

The Captain, Richard Rackell and John Gregory were among the small party which accompanied us; and as I looked back at the galleon and thought of those days when we had lain becalmed and the terrible fear which had come to me then I could not suppress a feeling of relief and an immense curiosity and excitement. I believed that soon we would discover what our abduction was all about.

As usual I scanned the horizon for the sight of a sail, but there was nothing but an expanse of blue ocean.

The sun was warm, though it was only February. I looked at the others; Honey was within two months of her confinement; she had, in spite of everything, retained a certain serenity. Jennet had that bewildered look on her face; I supposed she was wondering whether her sailor would come ashore. He was not with the party but had remained on board ship. It was no doubt due to this that she felt this anxiety.

The Captain asked us to mount the mules. “We have some short distance to go,” he said.

We obeyed and we set out from the shore.

The animal’s progress was slow and it took us some two hours to cover what could not have been more than six or seven miles. The Captain called a halt at the top of an incline and from there we were able to look down on the town. On the edge of this he pointed out a large white building which appeared to be surrounded by parkland.

He said: “This is the residence of the Governor of this island, Don Felipe Gonzáles. The house is known as the Hacienda and it is there we are going.”

“For what purpose?” I asked.

“You will discover,” he answered.

Our mules carried on down the slope toward the town and the white house and at length we came to iron gates. These were opened by a man who bowed to us and we went through them into a drive on either side of which grew tall flowering shrubs, pink, white and red. Their heavy perfume hung in the air.

We came at length to the portico; three white steps led to a door, which was opened by a servant in yellow and black livery. We went into a hall which was dark after the brilliance of the sun outside.

We were taken to a small room and there we were left—the three of us—almost in the dark, for the tinted windows and heavy drapes shut out the sun.

We did not speak; our tension was too great. I had gathered this much: that I had been the object of the abducting. Jennet had become the mistress of one of the sailors and because he was a strong man and carried a knife she had had but one master; Honey would have been ravished but for the Agnus Dei at her neck and perhaps that aura of divinity or maybe her own witchcraft; but I had been guarded; the man who had dared touch me had suffered violent lashing because of it. So it was clear that the purpose of this mission concerned me.

The Captain returned. He spoke to Honey: “Have no fear. You will be looked after until such time as the child is born.” His voice was tender; there was a sadness about him. They smiled at each other. I knew there was a bond of love between them, a love that would never be fulfilled but which had touched their lives briefly and had meant something to them.

“Jennet shall be your maid while you need her,” he said. “Remain here.” Then to me: “Come.”

I followed him up a staircase. There was a strange brooding silence about this house. It was dark everywhere; it was full of shadows. I knew that something strange and dramatic was about to happen to me.

I followed the Captain along a corridor. The tinted windows threw a faint yellowish color into the gloom and I had the impression that the owner of this house wanted to shut out the light because he could not bear it to show what went on within these walls.

I had a desire then to turn and run. Where could I run to? How could I leave Honey and Jennet behind? But it was because of me that we had been brought here.

The Captain had paused before a door. He rapped lightly on it, someone spoke from within and we entered.

At first I could see little in that darkened room and then I was aware of the man. This was my first glimpse of Don Felipe Gonzáles. I felt the cold shiver run through my body. Perhaps it was a premonition, perhaps it was that there was something so forbidding, almost awe-inspiring about the man. He was not tall, compared with Jake Pennlyon, for instance, nor was he small for a Spaniard. He was dressed in a black doublet which was trimmed with fine white lace, his breeches were of padded satin, at his side was a short sword in a velvet scabbard, and never had I been aware of dignity such as he possessed, never had I seen eyes so cold. He would terrify by a look, this Don Felipe Gonzáles. His skin was of olive color; his nose large aquiline, lips thin, a straight line, cruel, ruthless lips.

He said: “So this is the woman, Captain.”

I knew enough Spanish to understand that.

The Captain answered in the affirmative.

He came forward and bowed to me, coldly, yet politely. I acknowledged his greeting.

“Welcome to Tenerife,” he said in English.

Because I was afraid I must answer boldly. “Not well come,” I said, “since I am brought here against my will.”

“I rejoice in your safe arrival,” he replied.

He clapped his hands and a woman came in. She was young—about my own age—considerably smaller, with dark skin and big dark eyes.

He nodded to her and she came toward me.

“Maria will attend you,” he said. “Go with her. We shall meet later.”

It was bewildering. The girl took me along the silent corridor. We came to a big room, dark as the others in spite of the big window. The heavy embroidered hangings shut out the light although they were not fully drawn. In the room was a large four-poster bed, about which hung embroidered curtains; the posts and canopy were finely carved; the coverlet of silk. The chairs were finely carved too, and there was a massive oak chest on one side of the room. On the wooden floor were two large mats of unusual designs. I had never seen such beautiful rugs.

I quickly discovered that Maria knew no English and that I could learn little from her. She drew me through a door which led from the bedroom and there was a toilet room such as I had never seen before. A sunken bath was in the floor and there were Venetian mirrors on the wall.

Maria pointed to the bath and to me; she pulled at my clothes and I could see that she was suggesting I should take a bath.

I was nothing loath. I felt I needed it; and I had a great desire to be cleansed of the all-pervading odors of the ship.

She disappeared and I unbound my hair and let it fall about me. She came back shortly with cans of water, with which she filled the bath. She pointed to me and I indicated that I wished her to leave me. She did. I locked the door, threw off my clothes and got into the sunken bath. It was a delicious sensation. I lay full length and let my hair fall into the water. Then I washed it and my body too and as I stepped up onto the tiled floor Maria was there holding out towels for me. I could not understand how she had come in, for I had locked the door; she saw my surprise and pointed to the curtains behind her. I realized there was another door behind them which led into the toilet room.

I dried my body and she brought scented oils, with which she massaged me. The scent was pungent, overpoweringly sweet like the flowers I had noticed in the drive.

She wrapped a toweled robe about me and spread my hair around me. She giggled and drew back and, throwing back the curtains, opened the door through which she had come.

The bedroom window opened onto a balcony and she beckoned me. I went out; it was small and there was just room for two or three people. I looked over the wrought-iron balustrade onto a patio in which grew highly colored flowers. There was a seat on the balcony. Maria turned it so that my back was to the sun; I could see the purpose was to dry my hair.

She hunched her shoulders as though amused and disappeared. I sat still shaking out my damp hair, in spite of everything enjoying the luxury of being clean again. It gave me courage. I had ceased to speculate as to my fate, for I was aware that I would know very soon why I had been brought here. I wondered what was happening to Honey and Jennet and whether the Captain had returned to his ship.

The warm sun was pleasant; I felt my spirits rising a little because I could not associate violence with the dignified man whom I had seen so briefly and who I knew was the master of everything here.

Maria came out; she felt my hair; she brought a comb and combed it, holding the strands of hair up to the sun’s warmth. I tried to ask what she knew, but it was impossible.

I was on the balcony for what must have been more than an hour. The sun was lower in the sky. It would be almost sunset. I calculated that it would be about six of the clock.

Maria beckoned me into the bedroom. There was a polished metal mirror and a chair before it. I sat down and she dressed my hair. She piled it high on my head and placed in it a comb very similar to the one I had bought from the peddler; and I felt it was symbolic in a way. That had been at the very beginning. Now we were at the climax.