He paused, and looked from John to Kit and back again.
‘I have a task in mind for both of you. It is a delicate matter, requiring skills that few people possess.’
‘What skills, sir?’ asked John, puzzled. ‘I have none, as far as I know, apart from a rudimentary knowledge of seamanship.’
Mr Erskine raised his eyebrows.
‘You are selling yourself short, my dear boy. I shall never forget my amazement at finding you masquerading as a footman, as bold as brass, at the Empress Josephine’s ball, or the extraordinary deftness with which you ruined my favourite waistcoat. And as for you, Mistress Catherine, the astonishing courage of your ride through opposing armies on the night of the battle of Corunna, your successful laying of false information, to which action the Fearless undoubtedly owed her very survival – these are skills possessed by no other mortals I have ever met.’
The blood was beginning to pulse through John’s veins. Looking at Kit, he could see excitement in her face too.
‘What is it you want us to do, sir?’ Kit said breathlessly.
Mr Erskine took a pull at his whisky.
‘You know, of course, that I have been given the command of the Jupiter. But what you cannot know is that I have also been assigned special duties by the government. Secret duties, with the secret service.’
‘You were already working for them when you were on the Fearless, were you not, sir?’ interrupted John. ‘When you went ashore to Bordeaux.’
Mr Erskine nodded.
‘Let me explain. Since the end of the war with France last year, His Majesty’s government has not had a great deal of time to rest on the laurels of victory. There are stirrings in the east. Russia, the great bear, is growling at the borders of the Turkish empire, and the sultan is faced with rebellion at home. No one in London has a clear idea of the sultan’s character, his strengths and weaknesses, his inner self. They don’t know how best to approach him. But approach him they must, for Britain’s interests in the east depend on us making an ally of Turkey. To find out more about the man, get to know him, understand him – this is the task I have been asked to perform.’
‘The Sultan of Turkey?’ said John. ‘But how could Kit or I . . . ?’
Mr Erskine held up his hand.
‘Very few people know that the Turkish sultan, who rules his vast empire from his capital at Constantinople, has an unusual background. His mother is French. She was captured by pirates as a girl and sold as a slave, ending up in the harem of the present sultan’s father. She quickly became his favourite wife, and it is her son, Mahmoud II, who now rules.’
‘But . . .’ began Kit.
Mr Erskine ignored her.
‘Perhaps you do not know that this lady, Aimée Dubucq, who is known in Turkish as Naksh, the Beautiful One, is the cousin of Josephine, the former wife of Napoleon and Empress of France, a lady who, if I recall, once used her influence on behalf of Mlle Catherine de Jalignac.’
Kit was staring at Mr Erskine with wide-open eyes. He smiled at her.
‘I believe you have guessed it already, my dear, with your usual quickness.’ He paused again, and took another sip of whisky. ‘I have been cudgelling my brains to think how I might achieve this impossible task, and I came to the conclusion that it can only be done with the help of two people, both loyal subjects of His Majesty, both resourceful, intelligent, unafraid of danger and good at playing different roles. It would not be impossible for you, my dear Kit, with your perfect French, and your past contact with the empress, to gain admittance to the harem and win the confidence of the Beautiful One, who is said to be very close to the sultan, her son. Who knows a man better than his own mother? And what mother does not love to talk about her son? With a little cleverness and patience, you would be able to find out more about the sultan than any number of envoys sitting with him in formal conversation.’
‘It’s Kit you want, then,’ said John gruffly, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice.
‘I want you both,’ Mr Erskine said crisply. ‘Catherine cannot possibly do this thing alone. I need hardly say that there are . . . risks. Strategies will be needed, schemes hatched, different roles played. You, John, will lay the groundwork, and organize the rescue if – which I am sure will not be the case – Catherine is suspected of being an agent of the British government.’
Silence fell.
‘I see, sir,’ said Patrick, staring mournfully into his whisky glass, ‘that you intend to snatch my children away from me once more, though we have been reunited for barely six months.’
‘I fear that I am, sir. I am sorry for it, for your sake.’
Patrick heaved a sigh.
‘But I am not sorry for theirs. If I am to be honest, I know that life at Luckstone is not for them. Not yet, in any case. One day, perhaps, when they are older, and the fidgets have all been knocked out of them, then the settled life, the call of the ancestral home, a clutch of children perhaps . . .’ His voice died away.
‘You would not mind, then, Father,’ said John, his eyes blazing, ‘if we were to leave you for a further spell?’
‘I would, my boy, I would. But this time you will have my blessing.’
‘So, John and Kit, what do you say?’ said Mr Erskine. ‘Will you undertake this mission for king and country? Because if you will, I must tell you that there is no time to be lost. The Jupiter is ready to sail for the Golden Horn. Her supplies are on board, her crew is mustered. I wish to sail in three days’ time, if the wind is in our favour. Can you be ready by then?’
John and Kit looked at each other, and exchanged the briefest of nods.
‘Aye aye, sir!’ they said together.
ELIZABETH LAIRD is the author of many highly acclaimed children’s books. She has won several awards, including the Children’s Book Award and the Smarties Young Judges Award, and has been shortlisted five times for the Carnegie Medal.
Elizabeth Laird was born in New Zealand, but she grew up in Surrey and went to university in Bristol and Edinburgh. She has lived and worked in many parts of the world and has written about many different countries, including Kurdistan, Kenya, Ethiopia and Palestine. But some of her best-known novels, including Red Sky in the Morning, Secret Friends and Jake’s Tower, are set in Britain.
She is married to the writer David McDowall and lives in west London. She has two sons.
Also by Elizabeth Laird
Crusade
Lost Riders
Oranges in No Man s Lane
Paradise End
A Little Piece of Ground
The Garbage King
Jake’s Tower
Red Sky in the Morning
Kiss the Dust
Secret Friends
Hiding Out
Jay
Forbidden Ground
When the World Began: Stories Collected in Ethiopia
The Wild Things series
Acknowledgements
Many people have helped me write this book. In particular, I would like to thank:
Kevin Connor, of the Corps of Guides on HMS Victory (for information on life in Nelson’s navy)
William McDowall (ships and sailing)
David McDowall (historical and military detail)
Angela Mouscadet (the Napoleonic period in France)
Bernard Mouscadet (details of French names)
The staff of the London Library, the National Maritime Museum, the City Museum of Edinburgh, the Musée National des Douanes in Bordeaux and the crew of HM Frigate Unicorn in Dundee.
And, most important as always, Jane Fior, for her constant advice, support and encouragement.
For Jenny and David
First published 2005 by Macmillan Children’s Books
This edition published 2006 by Macmillan Children’s Books
This electronic edition published 2010 by Macmillan Children’s Books
a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
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ISBN 978-0-330-52892-4 PDF
ISBN 978-0-330-52890-0 EPUB
Copyright © Elizabeth Laird 2005
The right of Elizabeth Laird to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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