Ill Wind and Dead Reckoning: Caribbean Pirate Adventure (Valkyrie) (8 page)

Everything stank of sweetness. Everything was sticky – the very air seemed to be composed of sugar. It had been three days since the accident, and most of the molasses had been shovelled up and put on to boil – the muck of the ground skimmed off as it rose to the surface. The road to Eckerstad was open – although lined with molasses. Six men had lost their lives.

Klara coughed as she brushed my hair; we were all coughing, but the men who’d been caught up in the flood were the worst afflicted.

‘How’s Jan?’ I asked her.

She shook her head. ‘Not good. He’s still struggling to breathe, and the coughing’s so violent, I keep thinking it will shake his little body apart.’

‘Remember what the doctor said – it’s just our lungs clearing the residue. We’ll all stop coughing soon.’

‘Mmm,’ she said. The doctor had only seen Jan, Erik and myself. I’d begged the van Eckens to allow the doctor to see everybody else, especially the children, but they’d refused to spend money on the health of slaves – there were plenty more available if need be. I was hoping the diagnosis he’d given us held true for the others, but I was concerned for little Jan.

‘The men are being buried this morning,’ Klara changed the subject. ‘At the cemetery on the other side of our village.’

I nodded. Jan and Erik hadn’t mentioned it to me and were unlikely to attend. Klara knew I’d want to pay my respects to the men who had died, despite my husband and father-in-law’s indifference.

*

After an awkward, silent breakfast, I slipped out of the house and took the northern path away from Eckerstad into the jungle. The sugarcane hadn’t reached this side of the estate yet – another thing Jan and Erik argued about: Jan wanted to keep the sugar plantation small and concentrate on shipping; Erik wanted to expand both.

I passed Rensink’s house – a modest two-storey building – and continued to the slave village. A collection of huts housed the women and families – I knew Klara shared one of them with Wilbert and Jan – and there was also a long, low building where the single men slept.

The village was empty and I paused. I walked up to the men’s hut, opened the door and peered inside. The room was lined with wooden platforms and, as my eyes got used to the dim light, I saw a manacle and chain at the foot of each ‘bed’. There was no privacy, no comfort, no nothing. I imagined the life these men led – breaking their backs in the fields or sugar mill by day, sleeping like this by night. My fear and dislike of the van Eckens hardened and I realized I’d started to despise them.

I left the men’s hut and continued to the cemetery. It was already far too large for such a community, and my tears dripped throughout the service. Rensink led the mourning – another insult – and in Dutch.

Nobody understood what was being said for their lost colleagues, friends, husbands. English-speaking slaves fetched a higher price than Dutch, and by keeping their language private, the van Eckens could talk freely without anybody knowing their business. This funeral meant nothing, and nobody participated bar standing as expected with bowed heads.

‘We’ll give them a proper send-off later,’ Klara told me, ‘in our own way.’ I nodded. ‘It would be better if you stayed away, though.’ I nodded again. I understood that as a van Ecken I wouldn’t be welcome.

I got ready for dinner quickly so that Klara could go to the funeral proper, then went downstairs. Captain Hornigold was sitting with the van Eckens in the drawing room, and I stopped in surprise on seeing him. His company was the last thing I needed, especially as he was on his own and hadn’t brought Mr Sharpe.

I said little at the table, still shocked after the accident. Hornigold was surprised at the extent of our coughing, and I could see he was uncomfortable until Erik explained and he realized the house hadn’t been struck down by fever.

The fact that we were all afflicted, however, didn’t stop my father-in-law berating Hans and Hendrik for their own difficulty in breathing. I smiled at them, aware they were missing the funeral for their fallen friends. Hendrik tried to return my smile, but broke down in a coughing fit worse than anything I’d heard so far.

‘For God’s sake, shut up!’ Jan shouted. Hendrik did his best, but clamping his mouth shut against the coughs made them worse, and I jumped to my feet as he collapsed. I pulled his hand away from his mouth and was horrified to see a black treacly substance covering his palm.

‘Right, that’s it, I’ve enough of this had!’ Jan exclaimed. ‘Cough, cough, cough! And now look, that rug ruined is!’ There was a small spot of coughed-up molasses on it.

‘Hornigold, your arrival proves propitious to be. The sugar is waiting to be transported to Cornelius’ rum distillery in Sint Eustatius, you can load up
Freyja
, and us as well take. We need to get away from this foul air – the sea air will do us all good and our lungs clear. By the time we return, the slaves will either recovered or died have.’

I looked at him in renewed shock at his callousness.

‘We can’t leave now, Vader, it’s our busiest time. We need to oversee the rest of the sugar manufacture and the clearing of more jungle for the next field. We
can’t
leave.’

‘Rensink can that handle, I want us to spend a month or two away from here. This stench and the constant hacking is driving me mad. It will good business be to Onkle Cornelius personally see. It’s been too long since we’ve him a visit paid, I’m sure he thinks he can advantage take. If we deliver the sugar personally, we can a harder bargain drive.’

‘But Captain Aalbers and
Adelheid
will be putting in soon to take the sugar,’ Erik protested.

‘That’s his bad luck. He can
Adelheid
refit for slaves and to Africa head. It will more profits bring, anyway. Gabriella, get that slave of yours to pack, we’re in the morning leaving.’

‘I want Klara and her son to join us,’ I said. I knew better than to use little Jan’s name.

‘No,’ Jan said. ‘They stay here.’

‘You told me she was mine to do with as I wished, when I first boarded
Freyja
,’ I said, my whole body tense with fear at standing up to him, but I knew it could be little Jan’s only chance. ‘I can’t manage without her now, not with the way Erik likes me to dress.’

I glanced at my husband, gambling that he’d take my side. He had shown small moments of tenderness towards the boy, and still enjoyed Klara’s company at times. Plus his relationship with his father was fraught at best. I held my breath.

‘I think it’s a good idea. My wife needs her slave, and the boy will be useful as well. Klara can’t look after the three of us by herself. If you insist on us making this trip, Klara and the boy will join us.’

Jan glared at his son, and I let out my held breath– very quietly.

Nothing was said for some time as father and son stared at each other.

‘Very well,’ said Jan, eventually. ‘Your whore and her bastard son with us come.’

I stared after him in shock as he strode out of the room. Erik continued eating and ignored us. I couldn’t bear to look at him and helped Hans bundle Hendrik out of the room.

‘Welcome aboard,’ Sharpe
said to me, taking my hand and kissing it. I smiled at him in greeting. He stood a little apart from Hornigold and Cheval, who were greeting my husband and his father. Klara and Jan boarded behind us, and Sharpe nodded to them in greeting. The other men ignored them.

Sharpe led us below, and I made for the cabin I’d used on my first passage.

‘No, Magdalena and I have that one. Hornigold has vacated the captain’s cabin for the use of you and your husband.’ He indicated some structures on the deck that hadn’t been there last time. ‘We’ve erected temporary cabins for him and Mr van Ecken Senior, although we’ll have to take them down again if we get into a fight.’ He laughed and opened the door to the captain’s cabin.

I smiled at him and entered, followed by Klara and Jan, then looked around. I smiled again. It was bigger than the other, and I was relieved. I’d been dreading sharing such a small space with Erik. Whilst the coming days would still not be pleasant, at least there was a little more space to help me endure the journey.

*

The meal had
been awkward and mainly silent; even our coughs had reduced. I hadn’t been able to chat with Sharpe or speak to Magdalena, and had no desire to talk to anyone else at the table. Erik was still angry about leaving Brisingamen, and Hornigold and Cheval appeared to be sulking – they must have had other plans than sailing to Sint Eustatius with the van Eckens and a hold full of sugar. The only one in any good humour was Jan, but even he had tired of the atmosphere and lapsed into silence by the time Klara put the main course before us – roasted goat.

The men left us to go on deck and Klara served both myself and Magdalena with wine, then took a tray of brandy and glasses to the men. Magdalena and I were alone.

I looked at her, suddenly nervous. She was a few years older than I, maybe twenty two or twenty three. Her hair curled down her back – way past her shoulders. Her skin was pale and freckle- and blemish-free, and I put my hand to my own freckled face in shame. Her green eyes glittered in the lantern-light over a long straight nose and full mouth. I had no idea how to ask her if she’d been kidnapped or needed help; I couldn’t imagine this woman needing anything I could offer. Then she smiled, and her whole demeanour changed. I smiled back and sipped my wine.

‘How are you enjoying married life?’ she asked in English.

I grimaced. ‘It’s not what I’d hoped,’ I answered truthfully.

She smiled, though looked sad. ‘No, I expect it rarely is,’ she said. We sat in silence for a while.

*

‘I should be married now too,’ she said, breaking the silence. She stood, walked to the windows and stared out into the night. ‘To my childhood friend.’

I looked at her in expectation, but she did not explain. ‘What happened?’ I asked at last.

Her shoulders tightened, but she didn’t turn back to me; she seemed to be talking to the empty sea. ‘I loved him, I really did; it’s just that . . . he was all I knew.’

‘What do you mean?’

She didn’t answer for a moment, then, ‘Porto Belo and Panama were all I knew, and I wanted to know more. My fiancé did – he sailed the world trading goods for my father – I hoped to join him on his voyages once we were married, but I knew he wouldn’t allow it. He was too traditional, too protective. I would have had a life alone, waiting for him to return, not knowing when or even if he would come back.’ Now she turned, looked at me, then approached and sat down.

‘I wanted adventure,’ she smiled, ‘but got a little more than I bargained for.’

I looked at her in confusion.

‘Leo was overdue from a voyage to Spain, and I was keeping an eye out for his sail. We were to be married once he’d arrived home, and I was both looking forward to seeing him and dreading it. At first, I thought the sail was his, but realized it wasn’t when it was joined by a second. I didn’t give them another thought until the first cannonball was fired – they were pirates!’

I drew my breath in sharply, even though I already knew who it had been. I was surprised she was opening up to me and wanted to encourage her. I guessed she was as lonely as I was.

‘The ships in the harbour sank as they were holed, then the buildings started to fall.’

‘Did you have no defences?’ I asked, genuinely horrified as I pictured the scene.

‘Not then – the treasure fleet calls at Porto Belo twice a year to load up silver from the mines inland and take it to Spain. Before their arrival, and during their stay, the town is heavily fortified, but once they’ve sailed, there’s nothing left to guard. The men either return inland or sail with the fleet, and the town’s reduced to an ordinary merchant town again. The forts are barely manned.’

I nodded, trying to imagine it: one day busy, rich and important; the next abandoned, ignored and under fire.

‘Once the buildings had been destroyed, the pirates came ashore to loot and take whatever they could find. Hornigold found me.’ She stared at me, but showed no expression.

‘Hornigold?’ I was surprised. ‘I thought Sharpe . . .’

She shook her head. ‘Sharpe was horrified. He’s a good man, you know.’ She looked at me again, eyebrows raised. I offered her a small smile. Admittedly, I thought him the best of a bad lot, but he was still a pirate – I couldn’t go as far as agreeing that he was a good man.

‘He’s Captain Tarr’s nephew,’ Magdalena continued. ‘And Hornigold is terrified of Tarr. Sharpe makes the most of it. He “confiscated” me.’ She laughed. ‘Hornigold was furious! But he gave me up.’

‘Had he— Did he . . .’ I didn’t know how to ask and stopped. She shook her head.

‘He didn’t hurt me – Sharpe didn’t give him the chance, thank the Lord.’ She looked up, crossed herself, and muttered a short prayer.

‘So now you’re with Sharpe.’ I said, surprised at the tone of my voice. I couldn’t decide whether it was disapproval or anger.

Magdalena stared at me, cool now. ‘Yes, now I am with Sharpe.’

‘Do you miss your fiancé?’

She gave no answer, but her face showed so much pain that she had no need to.

‘That’s why Hornigold is in such a bad mood,’ I finally said, embarrassed by the lull in the conversation.

‘Yes, he’s jealous.’

I raised my eyes and looked at her. We sat staring at each other a moment, then she continued, ‘That’s why we came to Sayba. We were hoping to rendezvous with Captain Tarr. His ship is bigger, and Henry wants to get me away from Hornigold – he does not trust him.’

Henry. I’d forgotten his first name. I nodded at her.

‘But now we have to endure another passage with Hornigold and his sycophantic crony, Cheval.’

I smiled at her description.

‘At least you seem to be comfortable,’ I said, nodding at the cabin next door.

‘Oh, yes.’ She smirked. ‘We’re definitely comfortable.’ She relaxed her smile. ‘And it’s certainly an adventure.’