Prologue

29th November 1817

 

The preventive officer, his ear to the freezing ground, listened intently for the first sound of approaching horses. The night was black with veils of misty rain further reducing visibility. When he lifted his head he sensed the wind was rising. The mist would soon clear.

The soft thud of bound hooves told him the smugglers were near. He was numb with cold, his gloved hand holding the pistol devoid of feeling. A faint blink of light out at sea flashed, then was extinguished.

He lowered his head as the ponies passed close by. It was a large team which meant a big cargo of contraband.

On the cold ground he lay, shivering, waiting until all was silent. Only then did he risk a look towards the shore where shadowy figures moved about on the beach below.

Stealthily, he rose to his feet; he must give the warning now so they could be caught red-handed. He crept back up the hill, unaware of the large man watching and waiting for him behind a tree. As he breasted the tree, there was a break in the clouds and a glimmer of moonlight outlined the preventive officer perfectly.

The large man lifted his arm. The blade of a knife glinted briefly.

There was a cry. A thud. The cassock of the night hid them.

 

Shadows in the Night. The violent world of smuggling is seen through the eyes of Julia, a spirited young woman who leaves the court of George III to live with her great-uncle in the country town of Winchelsea. How many people are hiding secrets? Can she risk losing her heart to the dashing Mr Hamilton who she suspects of leading a double life? In dangerous encounters she learns the truth about those she trusted.

 

 

 

 

The Spanish Woman

Suddenly from the lookout came the call of ‘Sail ahead,’ and all eyes focused on the horizon. It took some time before Luisa could glimpse a distant sail, and it was shortly after that, she became aware of a change in the ship’s crew, as busy as they were, desperately trying to get the ship moving in the sluggish sea. Their faces were now distinctly worried and there was no more singing as they worked. Her brother was taken aside by one of the officers, and Jaime’s face resumed its ghastly pallor when he rejoined her.

‘What is it, Jaime?’ The words were blurted out before she could stop herself.

‘Do not be alarmed, Luisa.’ His words were meant to reassure but her brother’s face told a different story.

‘They say that the ship coming toward us is a Turkish galley. However, we need not fear as we have the King of Spain’s protection.’

Luisa’s heart began to beat fast with fear. A Turkish galley! With sickening clarity, all the horror stories came back to her as to what happened to prisoners of the Turkish infidel.

Gripping her brother’s arm, Luisa turned and looked with stark terror at the fast approaching ship, the oars kicking up spumes of spray as the galley’s slaves, urged on by the lash, rowed with all their abused strength. Flying from the mast was the feared crescent of the Ottoman Empire.

There was an eerie silence on the ‘Santa Carmelita’ as the Turkish galley drew closer and closer. Its crew was now clearly visible. Armed with scimitars, they swarmed up the rigging and crowded the decks. The galley’s row of cannons with their gun crews in place gave added menace. Jaime turned to Luisa, his face grave.‘Take your maid and go below.’

 

 

The Spanish Woman is based on a true 17th century story of a young Spanish noblewoman, Luisa de Coyes Francheros, captured by Turkish pirates. She is ruined, and if she returned home would be forced to live in a convent for the rest of her life. In Turkey she befriends the Sultan's mother, and is plunged into an alien world of Court intrigues set against an extraordinary love story.

 

 

You can follow Evan Andrew on his writing group’s blog. www.arrestingprose.blogspot.co.nz

 

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