The Butcher's Daughter, page 5
We reached Medusa’s Head just as the sun began melting into sacred Ireland’s soft, green hills, just as a blanket of cool air settled on the water. The chill, or perhaps it was a twinge of dread, gave me goose bumps.
I willed my legs up the rungs of a rope ladder hanging off Medusa’s side. I was the first to step aboard; I was first to enter the lair of the beast. I clenched my teeth and slowed my breathing down. I summoned up my courage. A crowd of men, unwholesome and unclean with smiles all around, quickly surrounded me. And there, standing fast at the fore rail of his grand aftercastle and looking down on us all like some lord or demi-god, I saw Dowlin grinning from ear to ear.
“Welcome to Medusa!” Dowlin bellowed in a deep voice after the last of my men had climbed aboard. He kept his gaze fixed on me while stroking his long, black beard. “Search ‘em boys. Search ‘em all and be sure to liberate any weapons. Then bring the good Lady Mary up to me.”
We knew better than to bring any weapons with us. Two sailors escorted me up to the aftercastle while my men, including Hunter and Efendi, were forced to remain behind, huddled together on the main deck, surrounded by Dowlin’s crew. But there weren’t many of Dowlin’s men on deck I noted and I thought that odd. And then I understood. Dowlin had brought only a meager company with him to our little parley, not a full crew. Providence so far was with us.
Dowlin crudely looked me up and down as I stood before him and curtseyed. I could feel his eyes undressing me.
He extended his arms out with a grin oozing contempt. “What, no warm embrace, Mary? No tender kiss between old friends?”
“I didn’t know you fancied me,” I replied to put him off. But he took a step towards me and embraced me just the same. I forced myself to kiss him on the cheek. I felt woozy when my lips brushed against his skin. Had I anything in my stomach, I would have had to lean over the rail to heave.
“Ah, that’s better, much better,” Dowlin said loudly for all to hear. “Come, Mary, let us retire to my great cabin before our supper turns cold. But first, my men seem rather lax today, or perhaps they’re just shy. It’s your stunning beauty Mary that has confounded them and made them bashful I suspect, that has turned them into pudding. I noticed they didn’t search you very well. I’ll need to find my lash and reprimand the careless bastards later.”
He put his large, beefy hands on my shoulders and moved them down over my sleeves, over my hips and then slowly up again until he reached my breasts; he started caressing them while all his men stood gawking. “Good, good. No weapons here, no weapons there. Can never be too careful, eh? Now you’ll kindly lift your skirt for me so I can take a peek.”
I always wear men’s coarse clothing at sea. But that night I had chosen to wear a fine woolen skirt, blood red in color, embroidered with ribbons of scarlet silk. My leather bodice fit snug against my waist and I wore an open, white blouse to good advantage, to accentuate my bosom. The skirt was the only one I owned and I was prepared for Dowlin’s crudeness. In fact, I was counting on it. I lifted my skirt high above my waist and spun around in a circle for him several times. Dowlin’s eyes lit up and his jaw went slack. I didn’t have a stitch of clothing on underneath my skirt. I wore no undergarments of any kind. I could see his men down on the main deck gasp at my nakedness and ogle me with lust.
“You see, my dear Captain,” I said demurely as Dowlin tried to regain his composure. “I can’t hide a thing from you.”
“Mary, Mary, Mary, unlike your poor, sweet Gretchen, I’ll wager you know how to please a man in bed! And then again, I’ve heard some say you prefer the soft curves of a woman to the hard edges of a man. What a pity if true.”
“Some rumors are true and some are not,” I offered teasingly. “And I’ll wager you know how to make a girl coo in or out of bed. You cut a fine figure. Look there, you’ve gone and made me blush. Let us to business then shall we, before we lose all sense of propriety?”
Dowlin invited two of his officers to dine with us in his great cabin and allowed Hunter to accompany me. It was difficult to suppress my absolute repulsion for the man throughout the whole, nauseating ordeal. I barely ate a morsel of food or touched a drop of wine.
“Well, now, Mary,” Dowlin said as pushed his plate away, finished with his meal. “Your letter intrigued me. Indeed it did. You asked for this parley. You promised to make amends. And you rowed over to my ship with a second boat in tow I saw. What does that second boat carry I wonder? What’s inside all those pretty crates and barrels you hauled across the water?”
Dowlin’s lips curled into a crooked smile. He studied me carefully as he waited for my answer, wishing no doubt to savor my wretched humiliation.
“I brought gifts with me to heal the wounds between us, to redress old wrongs,” I answered as sincerely as I could. “And I pray in earnest that you find my gifts to your liking. But first, one gift deserves another. There should be a quid pro quo between friends. Gifts are best when exchanged, is that not our custom?”
Dowlin opened his mouth and burped. “I’m not particularly fond of customs. But, by all means, speak your mind.”
“In exchange for my gifts, I want to reach an accord with you, with the Síol Faolcháin.”
“Oh, and what accord might that be?”
I bowed my head in supplication. “I’m here to ask you for your pardon for my careless remarks. You are a lord of the sea. You have the right to fair tribute and I must yield to your authority. I was wrong to question this. But I’ve never cheated you. Your men seized one of my ships, claimed I was light on payment and this is untrue - this is what roused my feminine ire.”
“Even the best of friends sometimes disagree and quibble, Mary,” Dowlin offered. He grunted and looked over at one of his officers. “Thompson, the Lady Mary claims a mistake has been made, that her account with us is balanced. She says we seized one of her ships unjustly. What say you?”
“She lies, Capt’n,” the man named Thompson scoffed. He quickly craned his head around and gave me an evil look.
“My lady,” Hunter said indignantly, jumping to his feet, “never lies!” But Hunter’s bluster, like my own lack of undergarments, was nothing more than an act, a distraction.
“Easy there, young pup.” Dowlin said and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Or I’ll split you open between your legs and return you back to your ship missing a pair of balls. Now, Mary, Thompson here is a good man but mistakes, shall we say misunderstandings, can and do happen from time-to-time. Thompson, might there be a mistake or misunderstanding afoot here? Speak freely, I’ll lay no blame.”
Thompson sheepishly looked down at his plate. He knew his place and nodded to his master. “If you say so, Capt’n.”
“Well now, there you have it! Let’s put an end to this sordid business. Tell me Mary, what is this accord you wish to reach with me?”
“My lord,” I said, trying to sound contrite and bowing my head again. “Keep the vessel you seized from me and accept the gifts I bring you this day but, in return, I want to sail the Irish Sea with all my ships free of any taxes for one, full year.”
Dowlin erupted in a fit of laughter and slapped the table with his hand. He laughed so hard his belly shook. “Pay no taxes - for one, full year! Bless me, Mary you’re a hard one! But you do have a sense of humor I must say, an exquisite sense of humor to match your exquisite beauty!”
I looked up at Dowlin sweetly, batting my eyes for him. “My lord, I’m quite serious. But you need not answer me here and now, not until after you have seen my gifts, not until after you are satisfied that you are getting the better end of the bargain by far. I want no more trouble with the Síol Faolcháin.”
Dowlin lewdly licked his lips. “I saw some of your gifts earlier up on the quarter deck this evening. I should like to sample more.”
“Oh my. You are such an incorrigible flirt, my dear Captain.”
“And you, my lady, are a wicked tease.”
“Well, let us see how it goes,” I said as I offered my hand across the table. “The hour is late and I must return to my ship now for I have an unruly crew to contend with. But if you summon me to Youghal later - in friendship - I will come and we can become much better acquainted with one another. Do we have an agreement?”
Dowlin took my hand in his and started caressing my skin with his thumb. “Perhaps,” he said with a hint of a smile. “All things are possible between friends. I will send you my answer after I see my gifts.”
A sharp pang shot through my heart when I heard those words. I understood Dowlin’s meaning full well. He would send me the body of someone I cared for if he was at all displeased with my offer.
He could see in my eyes that I understood. The hint of a smile on his lips blossomed into a wide grin.
It took all the strength I had to return Dowlin’s soft caresses with my own, to look into his eyes with lust. “Very well. I pray you send me your answer quickly,” I said and licked my lips for him. “You’ll find I am not all that hard. There are parts of me that are soft and supple.”
With a peck on the cheek, I said my farewells to Dowlin, collected my men and we hurried down the rope ladder to pile back into our longboat. We pushed off quickly, dipped our oars in the water and pulled with slow but even strokes, leaving our second boat with all of our gifts behind.
The sea was black and flat. The air was still. The great hunter Orion hovered directly overhead with his bow in hand. I welcomed the heavenly archer’s company. I took his appearance as a good sign.
And then we heard the faintest splash, an almost imperceptible sound, near the second boat. But we thought nothing of it and continued rowing slowly. We rowed slowly until a head popped above the surface next to me. My men grabbed MacGyver by the arms and quickly hauled him in.
“Are we good, Michael?” Hunter asked in a low voice.
MacGyver was blue in the face and his teeth were clattering. “We’re good,” he mumbled.
“Pick up the stroke, lads,” I whispered. “Row hard!” I commanded as I turned to look at Dowlin’s ship. I could see three of Dowlin’s men dangling on the rope ladder, struggling to pull our gifts in. But MacGyver, while Dowlin and I ate our supper, had chained the second boat to Medusa’s rudder just below Dowlin’s great cabin. The boat wouldn’t budge.
“How long, James?” I asked.
“Very soon. A few minutes, more or less.”
Before setting out, we had stuffed the barrels and crates on the second boat at the top of the pile with things of value, with things that would have interested Dowlin had he troubled himself to inspect our gifts after our arrival. But the bottom barrels - Hunter had packed those with gunpowder. MacGyver was our saboteur, our cunning Odysseus. He had been on the second boat, hidden underneath a tarp. After pushing-off in our longboat to row back to our ship, MacGyver took the squeaky lantern, the one hanging from the staff, to light the powder fuse. Once he was satisfied the fuse was burning straight and true, he quietly slipped over the side and swam over to us.
“Are we far enough away?” I asked.
“Don’t know, Mary,” Hunter answered, anxiously looking behind us. “Playing with explosives is always a tricky business. The powder can have a mind of its own. If the fuse didn’t burn out the blast shouldn’t be too,” but before Hunter could finish his thought, BA-BOOM!
The blast’s shock wave blew me off my thwart as if someone had punched me in the stomach. My heart bounced up into my throat. And as I struggled to sit up, as I spun around to catch a glimpse of Dowlin’s ship, a wall of heat smacked me in the face. But I didn’t mind. The sight of a great fireball rising in the air from Hunter’s explosion was especially thrilling.
“Row! Row lads, row!” I cried out. We had to reach the Phantom quickly.
Smoke engulfed Medusa’s stern. Debris went flying everywhere. Medusa’s men scrambled in all directions, grabbing water buckets and axes, frantically trying to put out the small fires burning all around Medusa’s aftercastle. Flames started licking their way up from the base of her bonaventure mizzen mast and I wondered whether the whole ship might go up in fire. I frowned. I wanted Dowlin’s ship intact. I wanted Dowlin alive.
“Did we do it Hunter?” I asked anxiously.
Hunter kept his gaze fixed on the smoke and fire ravaging Medusa’s stern and didn’t answer me at first. And then he cracked a thin smile. “Aye! Her rudder’s been blown clean off, Mary! Medusa’s crippled, dead in the water!”
We didn’t have long to gloat. A moment later we saw several tongues of flame reaching out across the water for us, followed a split second later by the report of heavy guns.
BOOM! BA-BA-BOOM!
The deadly iron from Medusa’s guns flew uncomfortable close over our heads. The cannon balls made an unsettling noise, a bloodcurdling, whistling sound like zoozoozoozoozoo as they whizzed by us. Even my steadfast Hunter ducked.
“Thank God,” Hunter said, “they didn’t load their barrels with grapeshot or we’d all be dead.”
Phantom answered Medusa’s bluster in kind. Her guns erupted with smoke and fire too.
BOOM! BOOM! BA-BA-BA-BOOM!
More shots - friendly fire - flew by us. Gilley was covering our retreat. Our small longboat though was caught on the open water in-between two great warships trading deadly broadsides at close range. Not a pleasant place to be. My lads pulled harder at their oars.
Once we reached the Phantom, we rowed past her bow and around to her starboard side to shield ourselves from Dowlin’s rage. I quickly scrambled back on board with my small squad of partisans following close behind. And once we were all safely back on board, my topmen dropped our sails and Phantom slowly started lurching forward. We abandoned our longboat to the sea.
When I saw Gilley standing on the main deck barking out orders, I raced over to him and embraced him warmly. “Thank you, Tom!”
“‘Twas my pleasure, Mum,” he replied. When Hunter joined us, Gilley clasped him by the shoulder and shook him. “By all the Saints you did it, James! You really did it! Bravo my good man, bravo!”
Hunter smiled sheepishly. “Aye, but we’re not home-free, not yet, Tom.”
“No, but we will be soon enough!” Gilley proclaimed with a cocky tone. “This’ll be child’s play now, Mary.”
And that had been the plan. We didn’t have enough gunpowder to blow Medusa up and even if we had, we had no way to deliver so much powder over to Dowlin’s ship. But we had enough black powder for one ship’s rudder and without her rudder Medusa’s Head wasn’t sailing anywhere. She was a fish without its tail. We could sail circles around her for hours; we could pummel her into dust.
At first Dowlin and his crew were stubborn and refused to yield. Stupid men often seem incapable of understanding when they’ve been beaten. Dowlin was no exception.
We sailed past Medusa’s scorched and battered stern and circled around to cross her lightly defended bow, guarded only by a pair of measly three-pounders - and that ghastly witch’s head. A dozen times we crossed her bow, pouring a raking broadside into her on each pass. Phantom’s guns inflicted a goodly amount of damage. I was elated when one shot split that damn witch’s head in two.
We stayed clear of coming up alongside Medusa, denying her crew the pleasure of training their big guns on us. We suffered only a few random hits here and there from her three-pounders and Phantom shook those light blows off with ease. But tip-toeing around Medusa had cost us precious time.
Pig-headed to the end, hoping he could wait us out, hoping that daylight might yet save him, Dowlin ignored the hard thumping we were giving him and refused to yield. So we went in close for one final pass before we lost the night and swept his decks with grapeshot. A great number of his men fell dead. And then we threw out grappling hooks, snagged Medusa at the bow and reeled her in.
I drew my sword and led the first wave over the rails myself. My men and I took the forecastle first and then we charged across the main deck, slick with blood and gore, and made our way towards the stern where we encountered a handful of Dowlin’s crew struggling to lower a boat in the water. But in their haste to flee, they got themselves entangled in Medusa’s rigging as they desperately tried raising the boat over the rail. The sight was rather entertaining and I couldn’t help but laugh. They abandoned their foolishness quick enough once we started closing in around them. They fled like dogs back to the quarter deck where the rest of their mates stood huddled. We tore after them, chased them up the aftercastle’s twin ladders and fanned out across the quarter deck.
And then I saw him. Dowlin was still alive. He was standing next to Medusa’s burned-out helm along with the remnants of his defeated crew.
With his face begrimed in sweat and soot, with his clothes in blackened tatters, the terror of the Irish Sea looked far less menacing, far less lordly now. And just as the stars began to fade, and as the sun began to rise, my men and I closed ranks for one last charge to slaughter the last of our hated foe. But Dowlin knew the fight was over. He knew there was no escape. He glared at me with a mix of arrogance, loathing and disgust. He took his sword and tossed it at my feet, surrendering his grand ship to me while no doubt plotting how best to kill me later.
My plan, beyond my imagining, had worked. Medusa’s Head was mine. Dowlin’s head was next...
Chapter Four
