1633:The Danish Scheme (13 page)

* * *

The next day, just after supper, Svend donned a shabby set of clothes and an old boat cape and wandered down by Bundgaard’s warehouse. He settled into a protected opening between two shops, a half block down from the warehouse; just like a street urchin trying to find a place to spend the night. His job was to watch the warehouse and warn the advance party if there were more than the usual two guards and play decoy for the raid.

Shortly after sunset, five sailors from the 
Henriette Marie
 came carousing down the darkened street past the warehouse. The two warehouse guards were stationed in front by the main doors, with a warming fire for heat and light. As they passed the fire, one sailor got boisterous. “We sail in the morning! I intend to spend this whole bonus tonight, drinking and wenching!” He shook a full money pouch and then a half empty bottle to emphasize the point. Fifty feet later, as they passed Svend, Svend signaled that no extra guards had been spotted. He waited a second and then darted out. He grabbed the sailor's pouch and ran back toward the guards. The victim yelled and then the five took off after Svend yelling, “Stop that thief!”

Svend appeared to trip on a cobblestone right in front of the warehouse guards and spilled the coins. The guards had only laughed when the sailor was robbed, but the sight of the coins spurred them to action. They pounced on Svend, just as the sailors caught up. They shoved Svend toward the sailors and scrambled for the few gold coins that glistened in the firelight. Two solid “thumps” and the warehouse was secured. The sailors picked Svend up, and congratulated him. “Nice piece of acting, sir. You nearly had us believing it.” They picked up the rest of the coins, gave Svend a warmer cape to wear, and sent him off to bring in the rest of the raiding party.

While Svend was gone, they proceeded to truss up the two guards and gag them. They relieved the guards of their door keys and dragged them inside, so they were out of sight. Two sailors stayed out front to assume the guard’s station in case someone wandered by. Ten minutes later, the rattle of four wagons could be heard approaching the warehouse. A silent group of men appeared at the rear of the building at just about the same time. Torches were lit and the loading of the supplies began.

* * *

At a tavern six blocks away a farewell celebration was in progress. All of the district watch that was on duty was there to bid Karl farewell. He had resigned from the watch and would sail in the morning.

“To Karl Andersen, the best sergeant in the whole watch!” Gunnar, the new watch sergeant raised the toast, “I just wish I could have seen the commander’s face when you told him you resigned.”

“Oh, he was happy. No more complaints from Fister Bundgaard. I’ll be glad to never have to deal with that bastard again. He’s your problem now, Gunnar!” Gunnar looked like he couldn't decide whether Bundgaard or the commander was the bastard. Karl laughed and downed the last of his drink. He thought, 
Captain Foxe, I just hope you ap
preciate the hangover I’ll have in the morning and that the seas aren’t too rough when we sail. Two hours of drinking to go yet!
 

* * *

At the warehouse, the supply loading went smoothly. John checked off the items as they were set in the wagons. When the last keg of flour was loaded, the two thugs were tossed in behind. John leaned over and whispered to them. “Cheer up. We have plans for you boys yet.” The trip to the docks took only minutes. After the wagons were emptied for the third time that night and the supplies stored on board, John called for any empty barrels and crates on the 
Köbenhavn
 to be loaded into the wagons and covered with tarps. He then reported to Luke, “All secure, Captain. We’re ready for the last phase. I’ll head to the tavern. The wagons can start in five minutes.” The sounds of the 
Henriette Marie
, the
Wilhelm
 and the 
Hamburg
 as they cast off in the darkness could be heard. “I hope your subterfuge with the ships works, sir.”

“I do too, John. I hope the two fishing boats and the 
Kristina
 get back in time to rejoin us before we sail. In the confusion of sailing, people should only see the four ships they expect to see. If this masquerade works, we may throw suspicion elsewhere. If anyone tries to search us for missing supplies in the morning, our departing ships will be in the clear. We'll all rendezvous at Stromness Harbor in the Orkneys."

John headed down the gangplank to the dock. The two guards were now seated in the last wagon with three sailors as guards. Knives were out, but hidden. “You boys thought it was funny when Bundgaard threw us out.” John had recognized the two from his visit to Bundgaard’s office. “You’re both in a lot of trouble for stealing Fister Bundgaard’s supplies.” The two started to protest, but a sharp prick with a knife silenced them. “We’ve left evidence and witnesses that you planned this theft. If you cooperate, you’ll live and even profit for the experience. Otherwise . . . ” John gestured with his knife, leaving the threat unsaid. “All you have to do is sit up here and drive a few blocks. When we reach a certain point, you will be met by some men with horses and money, who will escort you out of the city. And you’ll be far away by sunup, if you know what’s good for you.” John's appearance from a lifetime of bar fights in foreign ports accentuated his threat. As he strode away, he called back over his shoulder, “I told you we’d get even.”

Ten minutes later, John entered the tavern where Karl was partying. When he spotted John, Karl took his cue to start preparations to leave. When the group left the tavern and their eyes had adjusted to the dark, they had to wait for four canvas covered, loaded wagons to pass. Karl pointed to the last wagon, “Aren’t those Bundgaard’s toughs? I wonder what they’re doing moving stuff this late at night?”

“Maybe someone needed a delivery before sailing early in the morning?” Jens suggested.

Karl watched the last wagon disappear around the corner. “But they aren't heading toward the docks. Gunnar, you may need to watch them. Moving goods this late at night . . . maybe Bundgaard is up to something no good. Those two look like a couple of thieves”

“I’d chase them down now, Karl, but I don’t think my legs would be up to it.” Gunnar was only standing upright because of Jens’ support. “I’ll check around tomorrow, when we report for duty. Serve Bundgaard right if he got robbed, he’s done it enough himself!”

John came out behind the group after they left. Karl started to stagger so John gave him a supportive shoulder to lean on. Karl said, “You know, Magda is going to kill me for getting this drunk.” He staggered a little, but kept walking. John chuckled softly as they trekked back to the ship.

* * *

The next morning, an irate Bundgaard reported a major robbery to the watch commander, only to find out that the commander was already aware of the circumstances. An off-duty watch sergeant had seen two of the merchant's guards with a group of loaded wagons heading further into the city the previous night. The commander concluded that the guards stole the goods. The culprits were never found. Since he had already been paid twice for the goods, Bundgaard let the matter drop.

At the home of the former English ambassador, the officer tasked to escort Sir Thomas Roe to England arrived to an empty residence, with only some carters loading furniture for storage. No one knew where the ambassador had gone. The officer returned to his ship empty handed. When the ambassador protested to Chancellor Scheel that Sir Thomas had escaped, he was told icily, “If you’ve misplaced your man, that’s your problem. We don’t work for King Charles!”

Down at the harbor, four ships weighed anchor and set sail for the new world. Only a small group was at the docks to see them off. A mother and her children stood there until the ships were out of sight. She would see her new husband and son again soon.

Early February 1634 Orkney Islands
 

"Land ho!"

Svend's navigation lesson with Captain Foxe came to an abrupt end. Landfall had been expected and the captain was needed on deck. Luke grabbed his boat cape and left to answer the hail. The wind was still fresh off the starboard aft quarter and the intermittent spray from the North Sea waves kept the aftercastle deck soaked. When Luke reached the deck, the first mate was standing next to the helmsman. "What bearing?" asked Luke.

John gestured to the left. "From the port beam to three points off the port bow. Scotland's off to port and South Ronaldsay Island's dead ahead in the cloud bank. Right when and where you predicted, Captain."

"That new chronometer is going to be a boon to navigators, John. Whatever Sir Thomas had to pay for it was well worth it."

Svend raced on deck and tried to sight the land. John walked over and rested a hand on Svend's shoulder, "You'll not see anything out there for a while, lad. You need to be in the foretop with a 'bring'em-near' to see beyond the curve of the horizon."

"An excellent suggestion, Mr. Barrow." Luke joined them at the railing. "Svend, go fetch my telescope, some drafting paper, and pencils. This is an excellent opportunity to continue your navigation lesson. Climb to the foretop, tie yourself off, and sketch each of the islands as we pass. It will help develop your eye for recognizing land features."

"Aye aye, sir."

Five minutes later, Svend began to ascend the shrouds to the foretop. The telescope hung on his belt by a strap, with a pack on his back for the paper and pencils. The swaying of the masts as the ship rose and fell on the swells made the trip up the shrouds interesting. He talked to himself to help concentrate on the climb up and to keep his mind off the deck below. His foot slipped on spray-slickened footrope and he spun around the shroud. "I'm glad I tied off the telescope. If I dropped it, Father would be fit to be tied." He looked up to the lubber's hole. "Just a few more feet and I'm there." After what seemed like an eternity, he reached the crosstree. He seated himself, carefully uncoiled the loose end of the rope he'd wound around his waist, and lashed himself to the mast. "At least now I can't fall." He heaved a sigh of relief. Looking down, he could see the ship's bow crashing through the waves. The slow pendulum motion of the masts as the ship rode through the waves suspended him out over the water at the end of each arc. He realized his stomach was queasy. Suddenly, the idea of sitting at the top of a tall mast swaying in the wind wasn't so pleasant. "I will not embarrass the captain by getting sick all over the deck," he said through gritted teeth. "What was it Father used to say about seasickness?" As he looked out at the land, he remembered: 
Focus on the horizon
 . He brought the telescope around and focused ahead. After a few tense minutes, his stomach slowly settled down. With the pad perched on his knees, a sketch of South Ronaldsay Island started to take shape.

* * *

The sunlight started to fade as the 
Köbenhavn
 entered Scapa Flow. The sound of the ship's bell startled Svend. He realized he'd been sketching for almost three hours. If he wanted supper, he'd have to finish the sketch from memory. It took a few minutes of stretching to work the kinks out of his legs. 
I'll have to be careful going down. I don't want to drop anything, especially me.
 He held out the last sketch and compared it to the island they were passing. "I think Father will be pleased." He stowed his gear and carefully untied himself. All the way down, he made sure he kept a firm grip on the shrouds.

John met him at the railing. "The captain was beginning to wonder if you were stuck up there. How did the drawings go?"

Svend handed over the pad. "After I got settled and used to the sway it was wonderful. The warm sun and the views made me forget everything else."

John flipped the pages slowly. The use of shading made the island views stand out from the page. "These are excellent. I'm impressed. Have you had training? The captain never mentioned anything to me."

"Nothing, I just tried to draw what I saw."

"You have a natural talent. These are better than most of the ones I've seen from veteran mariners. Run along to supper and show the captain." He handed the pad back to Svend.

The drawings highlighted a pleasant evening meal. Luke echoed John's praise. "These drawings show excellent skill. I want you to keep practicing when you have an opportunity. This will come in handy when we reach our new home." The conversation turned to the upcoming stopover at Stromness Harbor and Luke's concerns with taking on additional supplies and settlers. Svend just dreamt about a young lady on the 
Hamburg
 . When they finished, Luke reminded Svend, "You'll need to be up early in the morning if you want to see the harbor as we enter. We should reach Stromness around dawn."

"I'll be sure to be up before then," Svend replied as he left for his small cabin.

* * *

Svend awoke an hour before daybreak and wheedled a quick breakfast of hot porridge from the cook. When he went on deck, Captain Foxe was already there. He directed Svend aloft with a telescope. "See if the rest of the ships have arrived. Hopefully their passage was faster than ours."

Svend scampered up the shrouds to the foretop, and surveyed the harbor. Two fishing luggers were leaving the harbor, their patched sails damp from the dew. They appeared to be almost flying over the waves. Svend focused back on the anchorage. Eventually, he was able to pick out some masts against the shadows and clutter of the village. He called down to the deck, "There are two . . . no . . . three . . . ships anchored and one's definitely the 
Hamburg
 ."

"Excellent. It appears everyone's made it safely so far." Luke turned and called to John, "Mr. Barrow, if you would please, steer for the 
Hamburg
 and anchor a hundred yards to seaward of her." He started to head for his cabin and a thought struck him. "Oh, and have the longboat ready. We'll need to get the extra men from the warehouse raid back to their wives as soon as possible."