CHAPTER ONE

The sun was high overhead, but that August day felt cold to Kate O’Neal. She closed her eyes, and tears rolled down her face. Ma would be ashamed of her if she were alive. Fifteen years old, and she was behaving like a babe, afraid of her own shadow. How did she let mere strangers and their fears get to her? What did they know of this Botany Bay, this faraway place? They’d never been there before.

She licked her lips and inhaled sharply. The stink of mud and rotting flesh that hung over Portsmouth Harbour gave her empty belly a stir. She clasped her hand over her mouth. No! I will not puke. She needed a distraction. With a force of will, she looked around her, at the men and women, those bound in irons and chains, who shared her sorry plight.

Her heart started pounding. One of the men was staring at her. She shrank from his view. Pressing her hands against her chest, she struggled for calm.

Eejit! The man had simply looked her way. Did she think every man who looked at her planned to attack her? Of course not. No more. She would be brave.

Her resolve changed nothing. Her heart continued to beat very fast.

“Silence!” The word thundered above the squall of seagulls. It came from a man with a red kerchief covering his head, who had appeared from nowhere and now stood just some five paces from the crowd of prisoners. He had an arm wrapped around a musket that had a bayonet protruding from its end. “I’m Twiggs, and for now, you’re all in me charge.” He glared at them in turn, as if he’d like to swallow them up whole and be rid of his problem. Kate reminded herself to be careful, not to draw his special attention. She’d learned that any attention from a man could only bring her grief.

“And that be the Merry Mersey,” Twiggs said with a sweep of his arm. “‘Tis me job to get you all aboard.”

His tone alarmed Kate. She stared at the ship that looked too small for a long voyage, but come what may, she knew she’d be aboard that transport before the day grew much older.

She never had a say in anything, especially not since the day her mother died. Her father had sent her into service with the Rustands for the price of a handful of silver. The Rustands had her thrown into prison for daring to defend herself. And Newgate Prison had been her first bitter taste of her new future.

She recalled the stench of urine and unwashed bodies, and remembered the curious gleam in the women’s eyes as they stared at her when the guard first thrust her into the prison cell. Afraid these unfriendly women might tear into her, she’d been extra careful not to knock into any of them as she made her way to a less crowded corner. No one stopped her to ask questions; or remarked on the bruises on her shoulder and face. She almost wept as tension leached out of her.

Some time after supper, a supper she didn’t have for lack of means to pay for it, a guard sought her out.

“Been told ye’ll be leaving us tomorrow for Botany Bay,” he said in a booming voice.

The women around her gasped.

The guard sniggered. “Ye’ve got yerself some powerful enemies. Why else would ye be going to that heathen place ahead of everyone else here?”

From the looks of pity directed at her, Kate reckoned Botany Bay had to be worse than Newgate Prison. Here the women fought each other for every inch of advantage; there was no room for charity. Meals had to be paid for. Since she possessed nothing but the clothes on her back, she’d probably starve to death. How could it get any worse? Would she have to pay for water in Botany Bay? For the air she breathed?

The guard stared at her for some moments more, then laughed and left. As the women settled down to sleep, Kate couldn’t help overhearing snatches of their conversation. They were talking about her, and their tone suggested her future was dire indeed.

She was awake when the guard came to fetch her at dawn. He sounded kind, too. “Now, don’t you worry none about Botany Bay, you hear?” Then he smirked. “The sea might get you first.”

Kate dropped her face into her hands in despair. Her one act in mindless retaliation was costing her dearly. If only she’d ... but there was no turning time back.

Now she watched Twiggs order one prisoner at a time to board the rowing boat, making them sit at the exact spot he’d selected, shouting at any who missed it by even an inch.

The boat was beginning to fill when a male prisoner baulked. “I ain’t climbing into that. Can’t you see that boat be sinking already? I ain’t drownin’ with them all.”

Twiggs thrust the bayonet into the man’s arm. “Move!” he shouted.

Kate quickly averted her gaze from the widening blood stain on the man’s sleeve, only to end up staring into Twiggs’ face. The cold look in his eyes set her heartbeats galloping, and she feared he might lash out at her because she stood so handily close to him. But he only glared at her and the other prisoners, before he returned his gaze to the wounded man who was scrambling his way into the boat without another word. Twiggs gave a grunt of satisfaction, then waved another prisoner, a woman, into the boat, telling her firmly where she was to sit. Then it was Kate’s turn.

The boat dipped and rocked under Kate’s feet. She lost her balance and fell heavily onto her seat. A sharp pain from injuries barely two days old made her cry out before she could stop herself. She quickly settled herself between the woman and the side of the boat, determined not to attract any more attention.

Her gaze fell on the seawater, an arm’s length away. Her belly knotted. The sea was so close.

All too soon, the sailors pulled on their oars, and the boat surged forward. The movement almost threw her against the man behind her. She recovered her balance, then tried to catch a last look at the land she was leaving behind. Likely she’d see nothing but open sea till she reached Botany Bay. But she couldn’t see much over the heads of the people behind her. With a sigh, she turned to face forward.

An icy spray attacked her. She wiped away the moisture from her face, gasped when she noted that an arm of the sea had reached out to engulf the boat. She shrank back with everyone else. The boat rocked dangerously, and frightened cries filled the air.

Holy Mary, Mother of God! She didn’t know how to swim. Surely she would drown, but nothing dire happened. Then she spotted Twiggs in the bow. Eejit, she thought. Would he be in the boat too, if it was going to sink? She had to have faith. God would protect her.

Then a man shouted, “Look at that!”

Kate stared in horror at a rope ladder swaying against the side of the ship. The howl of protests around her became a roar.

“Silence,” Twiggs cried, pointing his bayonet at the protestors. “Unless you can sprout wings and fly, you’ll all climb that ladder, by God!”

The male convicts climbed first, grumbling loudly. The female convicts followed. Kate, who climbed last, scaled the ladder carefully. She couldn’t risk a slip. A watery grave waited her below.

She gasped in relief when she reached the top of the ladder, even smiled at the sailor who helped her onto the deck, then directed her to join the rest of the women by the starboard rail. She crossed the deck with arms and legs trembling from the strain of the climb. Timidly, she joined the group of twenty-five women. A far greater number of men stood in small groups close by. She had never seen them before.

The crowd suddenly opened a path for a runty-looking fellow. He stopped in front of the women. His lips parted in a broad grin showing rotting teeth. “Ladies, listen up. I’m Roger Blackton, and by Captain Mowat’s order, you’re in me charge till we reach Port Jackson. Now, before we do anything else, you’re gonna get a hair-cut. We must get rid of them vermins now, mustn’t we?”

“Hair-cut? Bloody hell!” a woman cried.

“I ain’t got no vermins. The bloody nerve, I say!” another shrieked.

Curses flew. The women argued. They cried. Many pleaded. Blackton appeared unmoved until someone bargained to keep her hair.

Seven women chose to take their chances with the sailor holding a pair of shears. Penniless, Kate had no choice but to submit to the haircut. In quick order, the sailor hacked off her long black hair, leaving behind a head of uneven stubble. She knew she must look as ghastly as those women who went before her, but she didn’t weep like they did. Looking pretty meant nothing to her.

Then Blackton ordered the chains removed from the women’s wrists. A few called for him to remove their leg irons too. He ignored them.

Two sailors handed out woollen caps and sets of new garments to the women. Kate gaped when a cap went sailing past her and fell overboard.

“That’s what I think of yer bribe!” someone yelled.

Kate hugged her new clothes and cap close as she watched two more caps follow the first into the sea. Well, she couldn’t afford to be so reckless. At least now she owned something more than what she had on her back.

At Blackton’s next instruction, she froze.

Blackton shouted again, “Ladies! ‘Tis time for your bath!”

“Bath? Did he say ‘bath’?” a woman asked. Alarm rippled through the crowd of women.

“Nobody’s giving me no bloody bath,” a voice yelled. “Ye want a bath, ye take it yerself, ye bastid!”

“Silence!” Blackton bellowed, then retreated a few hurried steps when above a dozen women rushed up to him.

“I don’t care about me hair, but I’ll pay not to take the bath. I’m too young to die,” one woman said.

Blackton held the women back with an outstretched arm. “Sorry, ladies. Can’t be done. I got me orders.”

Kate frowned. She’d taken regular baths all her life, and they hadn’t killed her yet. Did these women know something she didn’t? What did that matter? She should keep her mind on the sailors. The reason they were hanging around had become clear to her.

But wait. Maybe Blackton meant them to take their bath in their old clothes. Why else would he have his men hand out new garments?

Just then Blackton clapped his hands and settled the question. “Come on then, strip and take your bath, ladies, or me men will help you do it.”

One of the sailors yelled, “Aye, Roger, give us the word!”

“You hear that, ladies?” Blackton asked.

“You black-hearted sod!” a woman cried and began stripping. The rest slowly followed. The sailors cheered.

Kate undressed quickly. She could deal with the pain that came with her injuries by ignoring it. The bleeding from her torn innards presented a problem, but there was no help for it. After making sure the rag between her legs stayed as secure as she could have it, she stripped, then sidled her way into the centre of the group. She crossed her arms, clutched her shoulders then hunched low, making herself as small as she could behind a wall of naked bodies.

The women kept shifting about, and Kate moved with them so their bulk would continue to shield her. She caught glimpses of two bold women posturing and waving at the sailors.

“Aye, me laddies, are you drooling now?” one called out.

“Here, wouldn’t you like a taste of this?” hollered the other.

How shameless, Kate thought, just as cold water came splashing down on her. It seemed to come from every direction. Many women screamed and shrieked. They retreated, ran this way and that, trying to avoid a drenching. Kate stayed with them. Her ears burned from their loud curses. Her face flamed from the sailors’ even louder cheers.

She thought the bath would never end, when Blackton shouted, “Enough!” Her first thought was to cover herself. Dressed, she looked around and sighed. The sailors had begun to move away.

Two guards guided the women down a hatch into a dark world, a corridor lit only by the flicker from the occasional oil lamp. Kate listened to the women’s groans and curses as they bumped into piles of stores and chests stacked along the sides of the passageway. She soon spouted her own newly-learned swearwords as she stubbed her toes and banged her knees. She tried to be careful, but that didn’t stop the sharp edges of obstacles on her path ripping her skirts. The guards led them onward, seemingly oblivious to their charges’ plight or the stench that filled the passageway.

They wended their way down another hatch and along another corridor. Kate found no relief from the stale smell surrounding her. Blinking her eyes did not help her see any better in the darkness. Would she ever catch sight of the wide-open sky again?

The women slowed to a stop. A door creaked open, then one of the guards said, “Step inside your quarters, ladies.”

Pushed from behind, Kate quickly found herself inside the cabin. She immediately searched the walls for a window. Nothing. Dear God. How could twenty-six women survive the voyage in this small dark hole? Maybe that guard at Newgate Prison had good reasons to suppose she wouldn’t last the voyage.

And she was here only because of that devil, Lord Oliver. Sure, she’d done a bad thing, but didn’t Lord Oliver deserve it? She still ached and bled from his brutality. Where was justice? Would Lord Rustand consider punishing his son for beating and raping her? No. Only the maid who’d dared to fight back deserved punishment. And who but Lord Rustand would have her convicted of the theft of his wife’s silk handkerchief and sent off to Botany Bay to serve her seven-year-sentence at once? Did he plan to have her suffer untold hardship before dying on the voyage?

Kate clenched her hands into fists. Well, she wasn’t going to die to oblige Lord Rustand.

The door slammed shut, then the crush of bodies eased a little as the women spread themselves out. They sat on the deck in groups, and conversation soon filled the cabin. Someone laughed. Another followed.

Kate blinked. What did these women have to laugh about in these awful circumstances?

A while later, the door creaked open and crashed against the wall. Three sailors pushed their way inside. They dropped an assortment of goods on the deck and left.

“That’s me bag!” a woman cried, rushing forward to claim it. “Never thought I’d see it again when they took it off me.” In an instant, the others swarmed over the pile, screaming and jostling each other to get at the bundles.

Kate looked away, wishing she had something to claim. Then she saw the door opening again.

Roger Blackton stepped into the cabin. He clapped his hands, and shouted, “Ladies, your attention, please.”

Kate barely heard him over the din. Many of the women seemed unaware of his presence. Some were too busy quarrelling. Others were digging into the pile, or rummaging through their bundles, probably checking to see they’d not been robbed.

“Ladies!” Blackton roared. The noise abated.

“That’s better.” He smiled thinly. “You can look for your possessions later. Now, let’s get you organised. See yon raised platforms? Them be your beds—four of you to one berth.”

Kate stared at the bunks. Four women in a berth that wouldn’t take three? Some of them would have to use the floor. Indeed, she preferred the floor to being squashed in the bunks.

An irate voice objected, “We ain’t some bloody straw you can stuff into a pallet—”

Blackton held up a hand. “I’m sooo sorry, ladies. Captain Mowat didn’t know he’d have such fine guests as yourselves. But we’ll manage, won’t we?”

No one answered. He raised his voice. “Won’t we?”

A murmur of agreement from many of the women seemed to satisfy him. He smiled, then strode to the doorway. He poked his head outside and rapped out some orders. Five sailors trooped into the cabin. They dropped their load of packages, left, only to return with another. When the door finally closed behind them, Blackton started pulling one woman this way and pushing another that way. A large woman resisted.

“Move, I say.” He gave her a shove. She yelped as she fell against another woman. He grabbed her and dragged her several paces away. “I’ll have me four messes, and you, stay with this one.”

The woman whined, “You could have said so. Don’t have to push nobody around.”

When he had the women divided into four groups, he handed out bowls and spoons, blankets and sleeping pallets, braziers and cooking pots. Next he shared out the food parcels.

“Are we to get more food every day then?” a woman asked.

He chortled. “Lady, this lot has to last you a week.”

“A week!”

A shrill voice wailed, “We’ll starve!”

“Ladies, ladies! Calm yourselves. Nobody’s going to starve, I promise you. If you want more food, why, you only have to tell me. I’m an easy enough fella.”

“Aye, and what’s it gonna cost us?” an angry voice demanded.

He rubbed his hands. “Whatever I consider a fair price.”