Chapter Nine

When the light of the day began to fade, Johnny Dupl’eau passed instructions for Sam to make sure that all the ’prentices and other crew members (sober and otherwise) were rounded up and returned to the Stormsong.

“Jake will stay behind with me: I may need his help talking to the Druid council.” By now everyone knew something about Jake’s instant success in communicating with Morgan ap Rhys, and even those crew members sober enough to think that this was a little odd were more concerned about finding their hammocks and sleeping off their excesses.

As full darkness fell, twelve silent figures dressed in their formal cowled robes gathered around one of the fires which had been used during the barbecue. A chair adorned with symbols which Jake failed to recognise stood on a slight rise and was flanked by two stools. The Druids were led into place by one who wore a light grey mantle rather than the simple white robes worn by the others. Jake guessed that this was probably the leader, Merthyr, a fact which was confirmed when he stopped in front of the chair and indicated by pointing with his oak staff that Jake and Captain Johnny should sit either side of him. The remaining Druids stood around the fire in an evenly spread circle and angled their staffs so that they could support themselves on them. There was no other seating provided: Jake wondered if this was a deliberate way of making sure that meetings did not last longer than absolutely necessary.

No obvious signal was given, but after a brief pause during which the Druids bent their heads in unison towards their leader, they all threw back their cowls simultaneously. Ten of them sported neatly trimmed beards and moustaches: the exception was a young lady, perhaps just into her teenage years, who wore a circlet of mistletoe in her auburn hair. She stood immediately opposite Merthyr: her eyes found Jake’s and locked in place. He was struck by the direct, unflinching intensity of her gaze, which in his own society would have bee thought rude, or even provocative ......... .

He caught himself wool-gathering, and wondered what had set his mind rambling into an irrelevant side track: and anyway, what was “his own society” anyway? Deep inside he knew that he hadn’t always been a pirate, but he hadn’t had any ‘flashback’ memories for some time now, and still had no clear recall of what he had done before joining the crew of the Stormsong.

He could sense that the as-yet unnamed female Druid continued to watch him, and determined to make as if he hadn’t noticed her close interest. He was still not troubled by a teenager’s hormone rush, and girls were for him still something to be endured rather than enjoyed (though he had the makings of a handsome youth already, and his attitude was guaranteed going to undergo a radical shift sooner rather than later).

It was also possible that there just might be some advantage to be gained from knowing that he was being watched, without the observer knowing that he was aware of the fact. For the moment there were more important things to attend to: but he made a note to himself that he needed to find out the girl’s name. He turned to face the Chief Druid, whom he sensed was waiting for his full attention before addressing everyone present.

“Croeso: welcome.” Merthyr greeted the invited guests in both languages, and gestured for Johnny Dupl’eau and Jake to sit either side of him. Tigertail settled in Jake’s lap and appeared to fall asleep immediately.

Morgan ap Rhys rose as Merthyr pointed his staff in the young acolyte’s direction. After listening carefully to a short address from the Chief Druid, he placed one hand on Tigertail’s back and spoke a few brief words to Jake.

“Merthyr says he welcomes us as friends, and wishes to hear more of the way in which Morgan ap Rhys and I have come to understand each other with the help of Tigertail.”

Johnny Dupl’eau stirred, and indicated that he wanted to speak. Jake paused, and waited.

“Did he really say all that? It seems he said it all with very few words!”

Jake caught Morgan’s eye, and hesitated a few moments before replying to his Captain.

“Begging the Captain’s pardon, but much of what I understand from both Morgan and through him from Merthyr seems to be as .... as thoughts and ideas, not just the spoken word. Does that make sense, sir?”

“About as much as two people with not so much as a word in common using a cat to understand each other, I suppose!” murmured Johnny, stroking the cat as he spoke. Tigertail’s purr increased noticeably: Johnny stiffened with a look of surprise on his face.

“Sir?”

“I’m alright, Jake: but just for a moment then, just for a moment .... ”

“Did you feel it, too?”

Johnny shook his head, nonplussed.

“I felt ... something: a feeling, perhaps, not exactly words, but .... ”

Merthyr spoke, and the image of an oak tree in full blossom appeared before Johnny’s eyes. He lifted his hand as if stung, and the image disappeared as contact was broken.

Any lingering doubts he might have had about Tigertail’s role in helping Jake to understand the reclusive, mysterious Druids were instantly banished. Jake risked a glance round the circle of standing Druids while making a pantomime of settling Tigertail more comfortably on his knee. He risked a sidelong peep through almost closed lashes in the general direction of the auburn-haired female Druid, straining his eye muscles to their limit in order to see without being spotted looking in her direction. Luck was with him: she seemed to be responding to a comment or question from the Druid on her right, and missed Jake’s swift glance entirely. Pleased with the success of his subterfuge (though he couldn’t see how it might be of any immediate use to him) he concentrated on the next words and gestures either Johnny Dupl’eau or Merthyr wished to have him translate.

The Captain had finished examining his hand and, finding no evidence of a sting or other injury, laid it gingerly back on Tigertail’s fur.

“Jake, I need you to explain for Merthyr why we brought Stormsong to these waters, and make sure he understands how grateful we are for his hospitality today ...... ”

It was almost midnight by the time the meeting ended. During all that time, the ring of standing Druids remained, leaning on their staffs, almost motionless. Jake caught thoughts, questions and suggested answers from all of them in turn, but only Morgan and Merthyr spoke aloud, relaying information through Tigertail and Jake. From time to time Johnny caught an idea or concept himself, but although he kept his hand constantly on Tigertail’s fur he followed very little himself and was dependent on Jake and Tigertail for a full understanding of what was being discussed.

It was almost midday by the time Cap'n Johnny and Merthyr had hammered out a formal trading agreement based on the vastly improved level of communication between the two parties. The leaders were making polite smalltalk, as far as their limited language skills would allow (most of it seemed to be in the form of mime and gestures). Of the remaining Druids, some stood silent and aloof, seemingly indifferent to or at least not encouraging social contact: exceptionally, one or two seemed to have unbent sufficiently to greet pirates whom they had (presumably) known from previous visits.

Identifying the slightly smaller figure of the young female he had wanted to speak with the previous night, Jake noticed that she appeared to be carrying something inside her robes. Without thinking, and without any plans for what he might say to her, Jake found himself drawn towards her as a steel tack to a magnet. He was barely conscious of Tigertail twining around his ankles, keeping pace with him as he approached the cowled figure without causing him to trip or stumble. He stopped at what he judged to be a 'polite' two or three paces distance, to allow her to acknowledge his presence or not, as she chose. He took a deep breath and held it as he consciously attempted to send out waves of positive, friendly, welcoming thoughts in her direction.

Two, three interminable seconds passed: perhaps as many as four ….

Suddenly, dramatically, the cowl was thrown back and her flame red, untamed mane of hair cascaded to her shoulders. What Jake had seen her holding was revealed to be a kitten, pure white save for a slightly flattened "M" across its forehead.

"Puisín" she said, in a low but distinct voice as she held the animal up for inspection. Jake noted that it was a male cat.

"Puisín" he agreed, glad that the …. name? description? … closely matched an English word he associated with cats in general. Instinctively he went to stroke it, but stayed his hand and gazed into the girl's eyes, willing her to understand how important he felt it was to have her express permission before allowing himself to touch her pet – companion – familiar. Belatedly it occurred to him that he was uncomfortable, not knowing how close the relationship between the Druid and her chosen companion might be.

"You could always ask the expert for advice, you know!"

Jake stiffened, then immediately relaxed as Tigertail's rasping sarcasm washed over him. He was still caught deep in the eyes of the young female Druid as Tigertail spoke, and knew somehow that she had 'heard' Tigertail's comment at the same time. Had she understood it, he wondered………..

She smiled at him, and – very slightly – presented her cat a little further towards his hesitant hand

"Tuig" she breathed, with a nod

"Tuig?"

"She says, she understands you – at least, that's what I think she means!"  came Tigertail's voice one more. Jake decided he had little choice but to trust his cat's instincts, and stretched his hand to lay it gently on Puisín's ruff. He felt something firm under the long, smooth fur. Puisín was wearing a collar of small but perfect, evenly sized white freshwater pearl which would have been worth a rich lady's ransom anywhere in Europe. Smoothing the cat's fur as gently as possible, Jake looked once more deeply into the hazel depths of the young girl's eyes and nodded at the animal between them.

" Puisín?" he breathed, hoping the rising inflection in his voice would be understood as a question.

"Puisín!" Her confirmation was immediate, and unmistakeable.

Back to the old, traditional way of learning languages …..

Hand on chest.

"Jake…….."

"Jake."

Hand on the front of her cowl.

"Meadh."

"Mee va"

"Meadh"

"Mae-ve"

After a few minutes (during which both Tigertail and Puisín made a number of useful contributions to assist with pronunciation) Jake and Meadh began to relax in each others' presence, and the learning situation developed at a pace which to anyone else would have seemed impossible.

By mid-afternoon they had reached a stage where conversation was beginning to flow freely. The roles played by their cats, while still imperfectly understood, had been recognised and attempts had been made to explain the fact – at least, as far as it could be explained to a sceptical pirate crew and an increasingly silent group of cowled Druids.

However, nobody was left in any doubt that an excellent level of communication had been established, which could only be to everyone's benefit.

They returned to the ship with an agreed barter list of goods which the Druids had asked them to acquire for them: things they were unable to supply for themselves, such as salt, and simple farming equipment. They had not mastered the forging of metal tools, nor even a smithy to make such items themselves, and apparently little interest in acquiring either the skills or the equipment to produce even a limited range of metal goods.

“I’ve always been able to rub along well with Merthyr”

Captain Johnny had invited Jake into his cabin for a private talk. Sam, taking the hint that his services were not needed, had slung a comradely arm across Quiggins’ shoulders and led him off for a nightcap.

“Don’t be too long, young Jake: you and I will be busy tomorrow morning!” Quiggins remarked. Abstemious by choice, he was far more sober than most of the crew.

Once they were on their own, Captain Johnny took a bottle from the cabinet above his bookcase and poured into two glasses.

“You’ve earned this, ‘young Jake’” he said, mimicking Quiggins’ mode of address but without rancour or teasing in his voice. “It’s a half-decent wine I keep for guests, not the rotgut alcohol your shipmates have been quaffing all night!”

Jake sipped cautiously, and was surprised at the fresh taste the wine left in his mouth. Captain Johnny was watching his face carefully, and laughed at Jake’s initial reaction.

“See? Told you it was worth it!” he chuckled “Right, to business: Quiggins will never let me hear the end of it if I keep you here too long!”

He indicated that Jake should sit in a comfortable chair, in front of the desk.

“Being able to communicate with our Druid friends more effectively has been a problem for some time, so I hope you can appreciate how important this breakthrough you’ve achieved is going to mean! And before you try to pooh-pooh the idea, don’t! Okay?”

He went on without giving Jake the chance to protest.

“I always have to try and guess what’s going to prove most useful for the Druids as far as trading or barter goods is concerned, so just being able to sail for Liverpool with a ...  a ‘shopping list’, I suppose we can call it! ... is a definite improvement! And I shan’t forget how important your contribution to that has been. As you’re a junior shipman I can’t be seen to favour you over other junior crew, and I can’t offer you a cash reward right now: apart from anything else, you’ve nowhere safe to stash it! Also, we’ve not had the opportunity to ‘liberate’ any funds from the tight restraints of anyone’s wallet these last few weeks – especially with our sea trials – so I’ll have to ask you to be patient, and once we get to Liverpool I can do something about that as well!”

Jake took a deep gulp at his wine glass to cover his confusion. Things seemed to be spiralling rapidly out of his control, and while the events of the day had been both exciting and fortunate from his point of view, he felt almost as if he had little or no say in what was happening around him.

Johnny Dupl'eau took another look at the youngster, who was showing unmistakeable signs of the long, hard day which was rapidly ebbing from the portion of sky framed by the porthole behind his head.

His gaze softened immediately.

"Jake, you're dead on your feet! Sup the last of your claret – it'll help you sleep well tonight, you've earned it: you and that cat o' yours! I'll tell the cook to give him something special from the galley tonight, and I'll see you both at the Officers' Mess Table for breakfast …. no, I'm NOT promoting you again, but I'll be making a number of announcements during and after the meal, and I'll want your input in a planning meeting immediately after breakfast! Go on, lad, drink up, drink up! From the looks of you, you're in dire need of a good night's sleep …….!"

Obediently, Jake raised is glass and toasted the Captain formally before finishing what was left. His head was spinning just a little, but he felt in full command of his faculties as he saluted smartly, turned carefully and marched in a reasonably straight line across the cabin. He spoilt the effect slightly by fumbling for the doorknob, which appeared for some unaccountable reason to be covered in melted butter: eventually he wrestled the door open and bowed for Tigertail to precede him out of the Captain's cabin. In the passage, Sam Barnacle's voice could be heard greeting Jake and becoming faint as two sets of boots clumped a little erratically along the wooden floor.

" I just hope you're sober for our meeting on the morrow, young Jake!" he murmured as he tidied up the chart table and prepared to retire for the night himself.