The Cloud Leopard's Daughter

by Deborah Challinor

  It was fortunate the breakfast was held in a private room, as several crew members drank far too much and would have been thrown into the street had they been drinking in a public bar. Friday and, to a considerably lesser extent, Aria found their antics entertaining and came in periodically for a look and to check whether anything more was needed.

  ‘God, would you look at that,’ Friday said in wonder as she watched Pierre doing his special rendition of a sailor’s hornpipe. ‘The things you see when you haven’t got a gun.’

  ‘That one over there looks like he is about to vomit,’ Aria grumbled.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘That one, with the torn trousers.’

  ‘Mick bloody Doyle. Never mind. It’ll wash out.’ Friday shook her head. ‘And I thought I made a fool of myself on the jar.’

  ‘You did.’

  ‘But not like this.’

  ‘That is what you say.’

  ‘Come on, let’s leave them to it.’

  Kitty watched them go, slightly embarrassed by the crew’s dreadful behaviour but not really caring. They were enjoying themselves and there wouldn’t be time, or the opportunity, for relaxing once they were on their way to Hong Kong. In any case it wasn’t all of them. Hawk didn’t drink much and neither did Gideon, and Simon only needed three ales or two glasses of wine before he fell asleep. She closed her eyes painfully as Pierre launched into the first verse of ‘Hanging Johnny’, then opened them to a roar of laughter.

  Israel was doing his drunken best to climb up onto a chair.

  ‘I’d like to ma—. Christ!’ Over backwards he went, taking the chair with him.

  Cheers and vigorous banging on the table.

  He reappeared, grinning, righted the chair, grabbed Simon’s tankard of ale and laboriously clambered up again. ‘I’d like to make a speesh to my bes’ mate Tahi here, who jus’ got married. Yes. Tahi an’ Amber.’ He raised the tankard to the ceiling, slopping beer down his arm and all over Simon, and said it again together with everyone else. ‘Tahi’s my bes’ mate. An’ so’s Amber. May the bes’ man win an’ he has. You b’long together. What a han’some couple. Um, what else? May your life be full of luck an’ happiness.’

  Another cheer went up.

  Kitty glanced at Haunui: he wasn’t smiling.

  ‘Tahi’s my bes’ mate,’ Israel said again. ‘An’ Amber. The mos’ beau’ful girl in the whole wide worl’.’ He looked down, wobbling dangerously. ‘Shoulda been me, eh Tahi? But you deserve her ’cos we’re mates. May the bes’ man win. Tahi an’ Amber!’

  ‘Tahi and Amber!’

  ‘Get down before you fall down,’ Hawk said.

  Israel tipped his head back and poured the ale down his throat, then flung the empty tankard at the wall. Being pewter, it bounced.

  ‘I said sit down!’ Hawk ordered.

  Simon gripped Israel’s hand and helped him slide into his seat.

  ‘Shoulda been me,’ Israel muttered again as he subsided face first into a half-eaten plate of jelly.

  ‘He’ll have a sore head in the morning,’ Rian said to Kitty.

  ‘And so will you if you don’t stop drinking.’

  ‘It’s not every day our daughter gets married.’

  ‘I damn well hope not.’

  After the breakfast, Mr and Mrs Atuahaere retired – with unseemly haste, Kitty and Rian thought – to Enya’s home for a ‘rest’, while everyone else stayed on at the Siren’s Arms for a few hours more. At the end of the afternoon Friday and Aria presented Rian with an invoice for six guineas, for food and alcohol, venue hire and services rendered.

  Kitty whipped the invoice out of Rian’s hand and examined it. ‘This is a ridiculously low amount. It’s less than Amber’s ring cost, and Mrs Green gave us a huge discount.’

  Friday shrugged. ‘It’s what we agreed. We’re happy with it.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No buts, Mrs Farrell,’ Aria said. ‘Your daughter and new son-in-law are charming and we were pleased to be of assistance, but this specific figure pertains to a debt thirty years old. Once settled it will be cleared. We always pay our debts.’

  Rian withdrew his purse from his coat pocket, counted out six sovereigns, and set them on the table. ‘I take it we’re square now?’

  ‘We are,’ Friday replied, and offered her hand.

  Rian shook it. ‘Lovely doing business with you.’

  Friday squeezed his fingers as vigorously as possible. ‘And you, Captain.’

  Kitty said quickly, ‘Thank you for all your help, ladies. We appreciate it. Amber and Tahi had a lovely day.’

  ‘Let’s just hope they’re not making a baby as we speak, eh?’ Friday said. ‘Not a lot of room on a ship for a baby.’

  Kitty could only agree.

  *

  While Kitty, Rian and Enya went back to Enya’s, the rest of the crew walked – or staggered – the short distance from Harrington Street down to Semi-Circular Quay to the Katipo, the sun just beginning to dip below the ridge behind them. The waterfront was still busy with lumpers, stevedores and provedores bustling backwards and forwards servicing the many ships tied up along the wharves before the light went.

  Dodging a horse and dray piled precariously high with recently unloaded bales of cotton, Hawk led the way towards Queen’s Wharf, casting an occasional glance over his shoulder to make sure his drunken charges were still all present and correct. Yes, and there was Gideon, wearing his usual patient expression and stolidly bringing up the rear.

  On Queen’s Wharf itself Hawk slowed as something caught his eye, a slim shadow dropping off the side of the Katipo’s gangway. The shadow melded with several others skulking against the ship’s hull, then resolved into the shape of three Chinese men emerging into the light of the fading sun and walking along the wharf.

  Hawk grabbed the arm of the closest as they approached. ‘What were you doing on my ship?’

  The man stared at him then shook him off, saying something in Cantonese.

  ‘I saw you, one of you was on my ship,’ Hawk insisted. ‘What were you doing?’

  The man looked at his companions in apparent confusion, then back at Hawk, and shrugged.

  ‘Do not act like you do not understand!’ Hawk felt himself losing his temper. ‘I saw one of you on the gangway!’

  The man spoke again in Cantonese, and gave another exaggerated shrug.

  ‘Perhaps he really does not understand,’ Gideon suggested.

  Mick said, ‘Let’s beat the shite out of him. That’ll loosen his tongue.’

  ‘Shut up,’ Hawk snapped. ‘Gideon did you see someone on the gangway?’

  Gideon, ever honest, replied, ‘No, but I was not looking.’

  Hawk glared at all three Chinese then forced himself to step aside. They’d been up to no good, he damn well knew they had. They stared back at him for a second then moved off, and disappeared into the crowd.

  *

  The crew were above deck preparing to set sail as the high tide turned. It was early morning and most were suffering from the horrors. They grizzled and grumbled their way around the ship barely speaking.

  Not Haunui, however.

  ‘E hoa!’ he called, despite his thumping head, as Ropata jumped the last few feet down from the base of the main mast.

  His friend approached, looking seedy. ‘I am never drinking wine again. It does not suit me.’

  In heartfelt agreement Haunui blew out his tattooed cheeks, turning them into small balloons. ‘You remember what I said to you about that one?’ he asked in Maori, nodding towards Israel, who was sweating away farther along the deck coiling a massive length of rope.

  Ropata nodded. ‘Did you see him yesterday?’

  ‘I did. Staring at Amber the whole time. And you would have thought Tahi was his own son getting married, he was that happy for him.’

  ‘Too happy?’

  ‘Far too happy. He drank too much and in his cups he let his true feelings show. ’

  ‘Just a li
ttle. He is not stupid,’ Ropata said.

  ‘He is not that clever, either, but he is cunning. I am worried. I do not trust him. He is planning something.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘How should I know? But I feel it.’ Israel glanced towards them. Haunui waved cheerfully and switched back to English. ‘Leena seems well, eh? It was good to see her at the wedding.’

  ‘She is well. And so are the kids.’

  ‘If she was my woman I wouldn’t be at sea all the bloody time.’

  Ropata made a face. ‘You know what it’s like. Once the sea gets hold of you . . .’

  Haunui nodded, because he did, sort of. He sniffed. ‘You know, boy,’ he said, even though Ropata was in his forties, ‘you stink like a brewery.’

  ‘So do you.’

  They grinned at each other.

  *

  Two men, standing in the shadows of a warehouse, watched keenly as the slack in the rope between the tug and the Katipo tightened and the big schooner began slowly to move away from Queen’s Wharf.

  ‘How far ahead of you will you allow him to sail?’ Wong Kai asked his companion.

  ‘Not far,’ Lo Fang Yi replied. ‘His ship is fast. It would not do to let him out of sight.’

  Kai eyed Lo Fang. He was tall for a Chinese, and favoured the queue and traditional loose trousers and tunic of a professional sailor. He had worked for Kai on and off for some years, owned a fast European-style schooner himself, and Kai knew he was utterly ruthless and loyal only to whoever was paying him.

  ‘And if he sees you?’

  ‘What if he does? Many vessels sail the route north-west up through the Pacific. He is committed to sailing to Hong Kong, yes?’

  ‘To China. He is not aware that my niece is in Hong Kong. I do not know at which port he intends to land.’

  ‘Then he will have to tolerate being followed.’ Lo Fang Yi paused, then added, ‘Until the time comes for us to no longer follow him.’

  *

  Lo Fang Yi was right: ocean-going traffic was fairly busy following the route between Australia’s eastern seaboard and around New Guinea and the Philippines, mostly shipping engaged in trade with China’s eastern ports, Japan and, less frequently, Russia. But by the time the Katipo had entered the Coral Sea and was approaching the Solomon Islands, the crew had noticed that one vessel in particular was tailing them somewhat persistently.

  On a warm, windy morning Mick shouted down from the crow’s nest, ‘She’s there again. Have a look.’

  Rian shut one eye, raised his spyglass to the other and had a good long stare at the ship rocking smoothly along some distance behind them, then handed the glass to Hawk.

  As Hawk lowered it Rian asked, ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Did you see the flag?’

  Rian had; a yellow rectangle with a bright red disc in the centre. A sun? ‘Looks vaguely Chinese to me, but China doesn’t have a national flag.’

  ‘Pirates?’

  ‘This far from the motherland? Wouldn’t think so. Chinese privateers usually stay pretty near their own coast. And it’s a schooner, not a junk.’

  ‘That does not mean they are not pirates.’

  Rian said, ‘Christ, do you want them to be?’

  Hawk said nothing, ignoring his little outburst.

  Squinting at the ship, reduced to a dot now without the benefit of the spyglass, Rian muttered, ‘I wonder if they’re working for Wong Kai, if it’s a Chinese vessel.’

  ‘Why would he send someone after us?’ Hawk snorted. ‘Does he think he can stop us?’

  Rian took the glass off Hawk and had another look. ‘It’s not a gun ship. At least, I can’t see any gun ports without a view of the side.’

  ‘It is too small for a gun ship. Unless there are cannon on deck, but I did not see any. Did you?’

  ‘No. Did you notice it anchored in Sydney Harbour?’ It was the sort of thing to which Hawk usually did pay attention; if the ship were armed it wouldn’t have been permitted to moor in the cove.

  Hawk shook his head.

  ‘God.’ Rian rubbed his hand across his face. ‘Well, we’ll just have to keep a bloody good eye on her then, won’t we?’

  *

  Amber wrinkled her nose. ‘Do cats make a noise when they fart?’

  ‘What? I wouldn’t think so. Their bums are built wrong,’ Tahi replied, then gagged slightly. ‘God, they make a stink, though.’

  Laughing, Amber clambered over him and opened the porthole, then shooed Samson and Delilah off the bed towards the cabin door, which she flapped vigorously behind them.

  ‘What’s Pierre been feeding them, I wonder?’

  ‘I doubt it’s their dinner making them smell like that,’ Tahi said. ‘It’ll be all those rats from the hold.’

  ‘I don’t think they actually eat many of those. You’ve seen the bits all over the deck. Would you, if you could have Pierre’s cooking?’

  ‘I’m not a cat.’

  To be honest Tahi wasn’t all that keen on Samson and Delilah, even if they did earn their keep regulating the ship’s rat population, but Amber absolutely adored them and he was more than willing to tolerate whatever made her happy. He now had the two things he loved most in life – Amber and the sea – not counting his koro, of course. He loved Haunui very much as well. And to think he was married to Amber because Rian caught them in bed together. What was that saying Pakeha people had? Every cloud has silver inside it? Surely this cloud had so much shiny silver it must fall right out of the sky.

  Amber jumped on the narrow bed, landing astride him and nearly making him do a patero of his own. That would be extremely embarrassing. They hadn’t been married nearly long enough for him to be doing that in front of her.

  ‘So!’ she said, leaning down and kissing his forehead, the ends of her hair tickling his face.

  ‘So what, Missus?’

  ‘So where’s my treat?’

  Tahi wriggled his hips. ‘Same place it always is, waiting for you.’

  Amber grinned.

  Tahi did too, but perhaps not quite so enthusiastically, and hoped she didn’t notice. They’d been having sex morning and night since the wedding and his ure was actually getting quite sore, and though most of him might not need a rest from love-making, he suspected that bit of him did. He’d asked his koro and then Mick about it, and they’d both laughed at him. But he couldn’t help himself – Amber need only smile at him and he was ready. Even just the scent of her hair was enough to set him off. It was . . . feral. He felt like some sort of animal on heat. It was fantastic.

  And he knew Amber was just as delighted with him as he was with her, even if it was boastful of him to think that. But he did know it, in his heart and in his belly. And she’d told him on their wedding night she didn’t want to share him, not even with a child, which is why every day first thing she took extra care with her women’s paraphernalia that would stop a baby from taking hold. He never looked while she did it because it was anything but his business, so he never knew quite what she was doing, but she said between her mother and Aunt Enya she had things pretty well organised. He hoped so. One day they’d have a family, but not yet. For now he was happy just to practise.

  ‘I want to ask you something first.’

  ‘What?’ Amber looked excited.

  ‘How do you think Israel’s been?’ Tahi was worried. His friend seemed a bit . . . moody lately. Perhaps even jealous.

  ‘Israel? What do you mean? I don’t want to talk about Israel. Not now.’

  ‘I just wondered if you’d noticed anything, I don’t know, different about him.’

  Amber sat back on Tahi’s thighs and crossed her arms. ‘Not really. He’s been a bit quiet. I just thought he was . . .’ she thought for a moment ‘. . . giving us room to be man and wife, I suppose. Why?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Tahi thought, Israel couldn’t be jealous, surely? He’d always known about his love for Amber. He’d never hidden it. Perhaps he needed to talk to his friend.
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  But not now. Amber was right; behind closed doors was for him and her.

  *

  Tahi was dreaming. He and Amber were walking, though he didn’t know where. Not in a city, and he didn’t recognise the landscape. She was telling him all about Bao, which was silly, because he already knew Bao. He told her so, and she turned her beautiful face to him and said, ‘Oh, that’s right. I forgot.’

  And that hurt his feelings because he never forgot anything about her, and he had to remind himself that this was only a dream, and you couldn’t control what happened in dreams.

  And then she said, ‘You know, Tahi, I hate to ruin such a lovely day . . .’ which was odd, because it had been daytime a moment ago, but now it was night ‘. . . but I think something bad’s coming.’

  He glanced around, and even though it was dark he could still see, and nothing looked wrong. ‘What do you mean, bad?’

  She shrugged in that way she had that mostly he thought was adorable – what was that word? Whimsical? – but was sometimes a little bit annoying. ‘I don’t know, do I? Just bad.’

  They walked on. After a while they came across Pierre, Simon, Mick and Ropata, sitting around a little table eating beef and piccalilli sandwiches and playing poker.

  ‘Hey,’ Tahi said. ‘Something bad’s coming.’

  But they couldn’t seem to hear him, or see him for that matter, and kept on playing.

  Amber took his arm. ‘Never mind. Come on, we’ll be late.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Hong Kong.’

  ‘But aren’t we all going?’

  ‘Bao hasn’t got time to wait for them to finish playing cards. She needs to be rescued,’ Amber said, and ran off.

  ‘No! No, wait!’ Tahi ran after her, but the faster he ran the slower he seemed to go, but that was all right because Amber didn’t appear to be getting much farther ahead, either.

  The sun came up then, and when he shielded his eyes he saw it wasn’t the sun but a great, gleaming, bronze and gold dragon rising up over the horizon, like a taniwha snorting monstrous jets of fire and smoke. He called over his shoulder for help but there was no one there; Pierre and the others had vanished.