The Gilded Fan Part 7

'Get away from me! I'll kill you ... swine ... bakajaro ...'

He wasn't listening and Midori felt the panic build up inside her as the anger subsided and fear took its place. Apart from her short time in prison, she had never felt so vulnerable before. She'd always been able to defend herself, but this man wasn't giving her a chance. He didn't fight fair and kept hold of her arms, his big hand a vice around her slim wrists. When she bit his shoulder in a futile attempt to escape his clutches, he threw her down on to the bunk where she landed with a thump. Her knee came up quickly and she managed to hurt him at last, but by now he seemed too far gone to care. It only made him more h.e.l.l-bent on taking her.

'Little b.i.t.c.h,' he muttered, and she had the distinct impression he was enjoying himself.

Midori screamed again, only to have the sound cut off by his calloused and filthy hand covering her mouth. She sank her teeth into it, but so hard was the skin she barely made a dent. 'Shut up, woman! This won't take long.'

She felt him fumbling with his breeches, but in the next instant he was lifted off her bodily and flung at the opposite wall. Midori looked up into the furious face of Captain Noordholt, who gave her only a cursory glance before bending down to haul the attacker up by the scruff of his neck. He gave the man a savage shaking as if he were nothing but a sack of grain.

Midori closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing slowly. The thought of Barker's hands on her made her feel violently sick, but somehow she managed to swallow the bile that rose in her throat.

'G.o.dverdamme!' In a torrent of words, the captain roared furiously at Barker in Dutch, before seemingly remembering the man was English. As she listened to a further tirade in her mother's language, Midori reflected that it was perhaps just as well she hadn't understood the first part, although the general meaning was certainly clear. Her attacker tried to defend himself, and even took a swing at the captain, but was swiftly knocked down again. Evidently, Captain Noordholt knew a thing or two about fighting.

He bellowed something out of the door and several other crew members came running. Barker was carted off and at last blissful silence descended on the cabin.

'Are you much hurt? Did he ...?' The captain looked at her with stormy blue eyes, the light of battle not yet faded away.

She shook her head. 'No. No, he didn't. Thank you, you came just in time.'

'Thank Jochem, not me. He came to fetch me, despite his wound.' She looked around, but Jochem was nowhere to be seen. 'He's having it seen to,' Captain Noordholt explained. 'You'll be without a servant for a while. He's got a large b.u.mp on his head.'

'I see. Well, please thank him for me until I see him again.'

The captain glared at her. 'Why did you let him in?'

'Because I thought it was only Jochem, of course. Barker made the boy pretend everything was as normal.'

'You should have checked. Didn't I tell you to be careful?'

'I did! How was I supposed to know he wasn't alone?' Midori snapped.

The captain clasped his hands behind his back as if trying to restrain himself from further violence. A muscle in his jaw twitched. 'I told you this would happen. Do you understand now the difficulties I was speaking of? Why I didn't want you on my s.h.i.+p?' He was almost shouting again, his eyes shooting sparks at her. Midori felt her own anger rekindle.

'I a.s.sumed you would be able to control your men during the day, at least, and therefore I wasn't on my guard. I'll not make the same mistake in future.'

'See that you don't. You'll have to arrange a pa.s.sword with Jochem or something.' He was silent for a while before adding, 'Barker will be punished. No one attacks my pa.s.sengers or harms another crew member aboard my s.h.i.+p. You shall watch. Perhaps it will show you the consequences of your actions.'

'My actions? I did nothing!'

He ignored her protest. 'Kindly bar your door again and don't let anyone else in except me. I will come for you when it's time.'

The lash whined through the air and descended on Barker's back for the tenth time. The man screamed, but still the lash continued its onslaught, relentlessly, rhythmically. His body jerked each time it found its target and blood, mingled with perspiration, ran down his naked back into the waistband of his breeches where it soaked the heavy material.

Nico glanced over to where Midori stood, her face an impa.s.sive mask. She stared straight at Barker without so much as a shred of pity or disgust and showed none of the expressions of horror mixed with excitement which were usually to be seen on the faces of a crowd watching someone being flogged. Nico was amazed.

The minute he had left her cabin, he'd regretted his hasty words. A flogging is no place for a woman. In a rational frame of mind he would never have insisted on her presence, whether she was the cause of it or not. The problem was that he didn't seem to be able to think rationally where she was concerned and the words had just come tumbling out. The thought of what might have happened to her had horrified him, and he'd taken his anger out on her, even though he knew she wasn't to blame.

He had expected her to retreat to her cabin, faint or even plead for mercy on Barker's behalf after only half-a-dozen lashes. When that happened, he would have been prepared to escort her himself and offer her an apology for subjecting her to such a gruesome spectacle. She hadn't done any of those things. Instead, she remained standing in full view of the rest of the crew, and he could see more than one of them glancing at her in awe and confusion. While some of them flinched in sympathy with their fellow crewmember, she didn't move so much as a muscle.

She looks almost regal. Nico was pleased to see she had exchanged her usual clothing for a more feminine garment. Although her kimono was of plain, dark blue silk, with no adornment other than a clan motif and a matching obi, nevertheless the material s.h.i.+mmered in the sunlight, indicating its fine quality. Besides, it's not what she wears, but her bearing which makes her stand out. No doubt she would have looked the same in homespun wool.

Perhaps I did the right thing after all?

Should any of the others harbour any thoughts along the lines of Barker's, they could now see for themselves what sort of a woman they would be up against. Here was no common tavern wench to be easily persuaded, but a woman of steely determination, as he had witnessed for himself. And he had no doubt from now on she would be vigilant, as would he.

He glanced over to where the English crew members were standing. Barker was usually at their centre, and without him they looked uneasy, yet defiant. Nico frowned. Most of them were troublemakers and he'd keep a closer eye on them from now on.

I should never have hired them. It had seemed expedient at the time to replace those sailors who had died on the outward journey with these willing Englishmen, but now he wondered if perhaps he should have searched harder for Dutchmen.

When the punishment was over at last and Barker had been removed from sight, Midori turned and walked calmly towards her quarters, her back ramrod straight. Nico tried to force himself to look elsewhere, but his eyes kept straying in her direction. Her long, straight hair shone with deep red highlights in the suns.h.i.+ne. It had been loosely tied into a tail as before, and hung down past her backside. And that backside ... Beneath the kimono, he could see the swinging of her hips as she walked, calling to him, making him want to run after her and ...

He turned away and stared out to sea, gritting his teeth. 'G.o.d's wounds,' he muttered. She's just a woman like any other and I have to go without, same as everyone else, during this journey.

'Captain?'

He swung around to find another of his English crew members standing behind him and frowned, even though it was one of the few decent ones. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone and opened his mouth to tell the man to go away and leave him alone. The sailor was looking slightly embarra.s.sed, however, and since he was enormous and normally unruffled by even the most unusual of happenings, this made Nico swallow the harsh words out of mere curiosity. In fact, he couldn't remember ever hearing the man speak before, except to say yes or no to an order.

'Yes? Harding, isn't it?' The man appeared to be gathering his thoughts and Nico swallowed a sigh of impatience.

'Yes, sir. I was thinkin', it seems to me you need someone to watch over that there lady for you, so I'm offerin' my services. I wouldn't let no harm come to her, I swear, and I'll kill anyone as comes within ten yards of her with my bare hands.'

Nico blinked. 'I beg your pardon?'

'I said ...' Harding shuffled his feet and stared at the deck.

'Yes, yes, I heard what you said, but why?'

'Well, we wouldn't want this to happen again.' Harding swept an arm out to indicate the scene of the recent flogging where the deck planks were still stained with blood. 'The men were mutterin' and all, and we can't have such a tiny lady bein' hurt again, neither.' He seemed to run out of steam and just stared at the captain while wiping his forehead with the sleeve of a grimy s.h.i.+rt.

Nico frowned. 'And why should I trust her with you?' He looked at the man's arms, which were as thick as small tree trunks, and his beefy neck on top of a ma.s.sive chest and body. 'Is this another one of Barker's ideas?'

'No, sir. I never bother talkin' to him. Man's a fool and I want nothin' to do with him. But the little lady, sir, I would never hurt her. I have a daughter just like her, all dainty and small, but with a backbone like you wouldn't believe,' Harding said, as if that explained everything. And perhaps to him it did, Nico thought. He weighed up his options, then made up his mind and nodded.

'Very well, Harding, you may guard her, but if you so much as touch one hair on her head, I'll have your guts.'

Harding put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. 'I won't, I swear. She'll be safe with me.'

Nico wasn't sure why, but he trusted this giant and relief flooded through him at the thought that Midori would be properly guarded. 'Come with me then, I'll introduce you.'

Midori hadn't expected to see the captain again so soon, and certainly not with a man-mountain in tow. Mr Harding reminded her of the sumo wrestlers she had seen in Edo when she'd last visited that city, although he was surely bigger than any of them because he was so tall as well.

'He is to guard me, you say?' she asked, wondering if Mr Harding would even be able to squeeze through the door to her cabin if he was needed.

'Yes, he volunteered,' Captain Noordholt said.

'In that case, I thank you, Mr Harding.' She bowed to the man, who bowed back as best he could in the confined s.p.a.ce.

'My pleasure, mistress.'

The captain gave Harding one last appraising look, then turned to Midori. She noticed the anger was gone from his gaze and, in the sunlight streaming in through the portholes, his eyes were as blue as a summer sky. The sight made her feel slightly breathless.

'You did well up there.' He nodded towards the deck where the flogging had taken place. 'Most people find such sights ... difficult. I'm sorry to have subjected you to it; that was wrong of me. I'm afraid I acted in the heat of the moment.'

'Don't worry, I've seen worse and it was no more than he deserved.'

'Indeed. I doubt there will be any more trouble now. What with Harding to guard you and the example I've made of Barker, you should be safe. Perhaps it would be better if you came up on deck occasionally, instead of hiding away down here? You'll be less of a mystery.'

'I should be glad of some fresh air and exercise. I was merely trying to stay out of the way.'

'I'm sure the odd excursion now and again won't do any harm if Harding is with you. Well, that's settled then.' Captain Noordholt bowed to her. 'And now I'd best return to my duties. Goodbye.'

Midori stared after him and said without thinking, 'He doesn't smile very often, does he?' She'd wanted to see that blue gaze twinkling again.

Harding guffawed. ''Course he don't. Bein' a cap'n is a big responsibility. He can't let anyone think he's soft, now, can he? That would be plain daft.'

'I don't think there's any risk of that,' Midori muttered. 'Now tell me, Mr Harding, why did you volunteer to guard me?'

'Just call me Harding, mistress, everyone else does. And as I told the cap'n, I have a daughter just like you. Wouldn't want no harm to come to her and since there's no one to look out for you here, I just thought ...'

'You're very kind. Please, sit down and tell me more about your family and your country. You are from England, I understand?' Harding nodded. 'Then perhaps you could be so kind as to describe it for me so that I know what to expect?'

A huge grin split Harding's face. 'Of course, it'll be my pleasure.'

Chapter Ten.

With Harding shadowing her every step, Midori could go up on deck if she wanted to, but most of the time she stayed in her cabin. Despite what the captain had said, she preferred to keep out of sight and not remind the sailors of her presence on board. The few times she did venture out, however, she forgot about everyone else as she found her eyes straying repeatedly to the captain. The man fascinated her and she studied him covertly, taking in the dark golden hair blowing in the breeze, the blue eyes half shut against the sun's rays and his a.s.sured stance as he gave orders.

He's half a head taller than most of the sailors, so I can't really miss him, she tried to justify this unseemly interest in the man to herself. And he is the captain after all, so he's bound to stand out. But she knew that wasn't the real reason.

He'd reverted to foreign clothing again woollen knee breeches, a long-sleeved white linen s.h.i.+rt with a collar, slightly open at the neck, and a leather waistcoat which she'd heard someone call a jerkin. Unlike the other crew members who went barefoot, he also wore hose and leather shoes.

'Is the captain a hard taskmaster?' she asked Harding when she saw him noticing her glance in Noordholt's direction.

'Yes, but he's not unjust,' the big Englishman replied. 'So far as I've seen, he'd never ask anyone to do somethin' he couldn't do hisself. And whenever the weather's been bad, he's helped out. I even saw him up in the riggin' once, though he could've sent someone else.'

Midori was glad to hear it. She also gathered he never raised his voice unnecessarily, despite his stern facade, and didn't need to. And he knew everyone's name and often stopped to speak with individual sailors. This seemed to ensure his commands were always obeyed with alacrity. Several times Midori saw him overlook minor misdemeanours, except to show the crew member in question with a look that such behaviour wouldn't be tolerated a second time. Everyone appeared to respect him, and no wonder, she thought, when he showed himself to be fair in his dealings with them.

One particular incident made Midori warm to him more than ever. The captain was walking along the deck when the youngest member of the crew, a twelve-year-old boy named Ben, hurried past with a bucket of dirty water. As he overtook the captain, he somehow managed to b.u.mp the bucket against his legs and half the disgusting contents sloshed out, drenching the captain's shoes.

'Oh, no!' the boy exclaimed, staring at the captain with horror in his eyes. Midori held her breath, expecting dire consequences for the boy. He was obviously too frightened to even utter an apology, but to both his and Midori's surprise, the captain burst out laughing and shook one foot with a rueful expression.

'Less haste, more speed, Ben,' he said and ruffled the boy's hair. 'Try to look where you're going, eh?'

'But, but ... your shoes, sir! I, I'm so sorry, I ...'

'They'll dry, don't worry. Now get on with your work, little one. You're doing well.'

Midori heard Harding chuckle behind her. 'Is he always so lenient?' she asked him.

'With the little 'uns, yes, but not anyone else, although accidents happen and the cap'n's not one to explode unnecessarily. He'd not punish someone for just being clumsy.'

Midori was impressed. The more she learned of the man, the more he went up in her estimation. If only he wasn't always angry with her, but then he hadn't wanted her as a pa.s.senger at all.

During a brief walk round the deck at dusk one day, Midori and Harding came across the s.h.i.+p's surgeon, Mijnheer de Jong, bandaging a sailor's leg. A nasty gash on the s.h.i.+n was oozing blood and as the sailor jumped and swore every time he was touched, the surgeon had his work cut out to help him.

'Good evening,' Midori said politely and the man replied in Dutch, somewhat distractedly.

'He can't speak to you, seein' as he's Dutch, but I can translate for you,' Harding offered.

'Thank you, that's very kind.'

She didn't really have anything to say to the man, however, but as she watched the surgeon struggle to apply the bandage in a rather clumsy fas.h.i.+on, a thought occurred to her. De Jong was long past his prime. His hands shook slightly and some of the fingers on his right hand were bent by arthritis and obviously painful. 'I don't suppose you need any help with tending the sick and injured? I have some experience of such things and would be pleased to offer my a.s.sistance,' she said.

She waited while Harding translated this, and saw the surgeon's eyes light up. De Jong nodded and a torrent of words came out.

'He says you'd be most welcome to help,' Harding replied on his behalf. 'You can make a start with this here bandage, if you have nimble fingers. The surgeon's havin' some trouble, as you can see.'

'I'd be glad to.'

As Midori set to work, Harding grabbed hold of the injured man as if he was afraid he'd lash out at her. Midori smiled and said, 'Please tell him I'll be as gentle as I can.'

Harding did as he was bid and the sailor relaxed slightly. It didn't take Midori long to tie the bandage neatly in place, earning a look of grat.i.tude from the victim as well as the surgeon.

'Dank u wel, mevrouw.'

'You're welcome. Is there anything else I can do? Prepare some ointment perhaps?'

Harding translated and de Jong beckoned her to come along to his cabin. 'He says it's best you come and see what he's got, then you can discuss what needs to be done. Shall we go?'

Life on board a s.h.i.+p the size of the Zwarte Zwaan was often dangerous, and Midori was both surprised and pleased to be called upon frequently to help de Jong during the weeks that followed. There were outbreaks of fever, stomach problems and various accidents, and Midori enjoyed having something to do. It helped fill the endless hours that stretched before her each day. With Harding accompanying her she wasn't afraid to tend sick men as they lay in their hammocks, and her skills in preparing ointments and tisanes of every description came in very useful. The men seemed to approve of her light touch and no one was disrespectful, at least not to her face.

De Jong was grateful to her. Via Harding he told her this was his last voyage. 'I hope to retire when we return to Amsterdam,' he said. 'I'm feeling my age and I'm not as able to keep up with this work as I did in my youth. Your a.s.sistance is most welcome.' The man smiled at her and added, 'I thank G.o.d for sending you to help me.'

Nico, meanwhile, was not having a very good voyage. He suffered from a restlessness he couldn't subdue, and he knew the cause of it only too well he couldn't get Midori out of his mind.

Wherever he went, he caught glimpses of her, or so it seemed. Her serene beauty and calm demeanour drew him like a magnet. Time and again he found his steps moving in her direction without conscious thought, until he realised what he was doing and turned away again. It annoyed him that she should have this hold over him, especially since he didn't seem to affect her one whit. Although scrupulously polite, she never sought him out.

'Well, perhaps I can change that?' he muttered. Women weren't usually indifferent to him and he'd had no trouble in the past when it came to enticing them into his bed. Why should this one be any different?

Not that I want to bed Midori! Well, he did, truth to tell, but had no intention of going that far. A little light flirtation wouldn't hurt though, would it? Just to pa.s.s the time. He grinned to himself. Yes, why not enjoy her company while he could? In a purely platonic way, of course.