1633:The Danish Scheme (15 page)

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Authors: Eric Flint

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Alternate History, #Germany, #Canada, #1632, #Grantville, #Eric Flint, #alt history, #30 years war, #Ring of Fire

BOOK: 1633:The Danish Scheme
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“As to you, Fister Bundgaard, I don’t know how someone as wealthy as you are could be so stupid. Scamming foreign sailors with shoddy goods is one thing, but trying to scam an expedition sponsored by me defies comprehension. Even a bear knows well enough not to crap in his own cave. Selling damaged goods for the dike repairs puts the entire western coast of the country at risk. That could be construed as treason.” Bundgaard blanched and sagged down further under the weight of his chains. The King motioned for the guards, who had tried to blend into the woodwork during the tirade, to remove Bundgaard. “Take this villain away to the dungeon. Hold him there until we can learn the true extent of his treachery. As for you Asmund, don’t give me a reason to send you there too. Now get out of my sight before I change my mind.”

The Minister bowed and almost scampered after the departing guards. Prince Ulrik decided to wait until his father was in a better mood to find out just what he had been handed so unexpectedly.

Early the next morning the answer came to him in the form of a knock on his door. Standing there when he opened it was a bear masquerading as a man. “Good morning your Highness. Your father asked me to visit you this morning and introduce you to your new job. My name is Baldur Nordgaard and I have been working for the King on his new research facility.” His visitor noticed the nightgown he was wearing. “I see I wasn’t expected. Shall I come back later for your tour?”

Ulrik paused before answering. The visitor seemed to be more at home in a thieves’ den than doing research for a king. On the other hand, he did know about his father’s comment. Besides the prisoners and the guards, no one else knew, so he probably was legitimate. “Give me a moment to dress and I’ll be right with you. Come in and have a seat while I change into something more appropriate for 
touring
 .” He stepped into the next room and changed quickly. While he dressed, he quizzed his visitor to make sure he was what he said he was. “So when did my father tell you to see me?”

“Last evening after his session with the Minister and his cousin.”

Well, that confirmed the source of the message!
 “So what exactly is this ‘research facility’ I’m supposed to work with?”

“Your father sent for books from Grantville as soon as he heard about it. He spent a tremendous amount of money obtaining an ‘encyclopedia’. When he saw the weapons in it, he hired me to try and duplicate them. I have a workshop set up on the castle grounds and have been working there around the clock since then. In the past few weeks, I’ve finally started making headway. I’m just not sure what the King intends to do with some of them. You’ll have to see them in person. It’s hard to explain something that no one else has ever seen before in this time.”

Ulrik stepped back out clothed in some winter riding gear. “I don’t normally keep work clothes around. The staff tends to dispose of them before they get to that state. Will these do for the tour?”

Baldur gave him a quick review. “They’ll do just fine. If you’ll follow me please?” As they walked down the hall, Baldur started to list the projects that the King had him working on. They ranged from the plausible all the way to bizarre. Ulrik still wondered if he was following a madman that had wandered into the castle.

Chapter 15

Late February 1634, Northwest of the Orkneys

Svend spotted someone on the 
Hamburg
 's deck and stood up and waved back.

"Mr. McDermott, would you please sit down and quit rocking the boat? Captain Foxe would not take kindly to my reporting that you drowned while being rowed to the 
Hamburg
 ," First Mate Barrow said.

"Sorry, sir. I wasn't thinking." Svend tried to look contrite but the object of his attention waved again and his attention was distracted.

"The sea's a harsh mistress and inattention can be fatal."

Svend waved again and John realized he was fighting a losing battle. "Very well, if you must wave, at least stay seated!" The two sailors that were rowing nearly missed a stroke as they laughed at Svend's reaction.

Five minutes later, they boarded the 
Hamburg
. The trip had been brief and easy on the rowers. The
Köbenhavn
 had launched them from ahead of the 
Hamburg
's course and they rowed towards the boarding ropes on the 
Hamburg's
 side. They would repeat the maneuver when it was time to return.

Agnes met Svend at the entry port, along with their teacher, Jeremiah Redmond. Sir Thomas had arranged that she would join in the lessons, to further her mathematics education. Any concerns that Agnes might be a distraction had vanished after the first lesson. She was slightly ahead of Svend and a friendly rivalry had developed to see who could get the correct answer first. As a result, they both showed excellent progress. Once they settled into the empty day cabin Captain Rheinwald had set aside for the lessons, Jeremiah started going over what he had planned.

"Today, we will cover calculating the area inside an irregular rectangle. Do you have the answers and drawings to the questions I posed last time?" They both dutifully handed over the calculations. Jeremiah quickly reviewed their homework. "Very good, Master McDermott; however, your answer on the second question is in error. It appears you forgot the offset distance. Otherwise, your other calculations are correct and your draughtmanship is excellent. Mistress Roe, your answers are correct. I see that you still need help sharpening your quills. The technique on your drawings still reflects your problem there." Jeremiah pulled out his knife and showed her the proper technique. He handed the knife to Agnes and had her practice. After three tries, he was satisfied she could do it properly and returned to the math lesson.

* * *

Shortly before the lessons ended a commotion could be heard on deck. Karl Andersen and his sergeant, Wilhelm Engle had arrived from the 
Wilhelm
 and started drilling potential militia recruits. The deck space was too limited to attempt any marching drills so Karl had chosen to train the farmers and miners in groups of five on the basics of the arquebus. A barrel had been attached to a line and tossed over the taffrail for a target. When the math lesson ended, the third and last group was preparing to fire their first shot. So far, no one had hit the barrel, and Karl was showing his frustration.

"Now, if you 'gentlemen' would be so kind as to load your weapons as the sergeant showed you, without shooting each other, we'll see if you can at least hit the ocean."

Two of the group snickered.

"You think that's funny? It won't be so funny if the natives attack and you forget how to shoot!"

"But, Captain, Joachim and I already know how to shoot, and we brought our own rifles along. They're a lot better then this crap we're using here!"

The statement stopped Karl dead in his tracks. It had never occurred to him that there might actually be some worthwhile recruits among the passengers. If these two really had rifles, his shortage of qualified scouts might be alleviated. "Go get them and we'll see!" As the two headed below, Engle roared at the other three. "The captain didn't tell you to stop! Keep loading!"

By the time Kurt and Joachim returned, the others had finally finished loading and stood at the taffrail, aiming at the barrel. Their wives and children stood to the side, watching. Karl chivvied Kurt and Joachim to get in line and load. As he saw what they carried, his eyes went wide. He had seldom seen weapons like these, but being the experienced officer he was, he hid his surprise with a roar. "Well, get loaded. I want to see if anyone can hit the barrel. So far, the barrel is winning this war."

The first attempt was by a farmer with an arquebus. He closed his eyes before he shot. The uproll of the ship sent his shot into the unknown.

Karl raised his eyes in supplication. "Not even the ocean!" When he looked back at the farmer, the fury was evident. "Keep your damn eyes open and aim!" He walked over to the next one in line, who was trying to stifle a laugh. "Think you can do any better? Let's see."

He was one of the miners from Amberg. He raised the arquebus, kept his eyes open and fired after the ship reached the top of the wave. The shot was in line with the barrel, but a little low. Karl was pleased. "Not bad, not bad at all. It's better to be low than high. A ricochet might still hit something. If you can do that again next practice, you'll rate out as militia. Give your name to the sergeant." The third in line never even got his weapon up before the gun discharged. He just missed a sailor scrubbing the deck. Karl grabbed the gun and kicked him back toward the group of women who were watching. He pointed with the butt of the empty gun at the last two. Kurt stepped up and took aim. The crack of the rifle was decidedly different from the previous shots. So was the result. The bullet left a two inch hole in the barrel. "That good enough, Captain?" Karl just stood there with his mouth open.

Joachim stepped up, raised his rifle, paused until the ship reached the next trough and then fired. He hit one of barrel's bands and the barrel exploded in a shower of staves. He rested the rifle butt on the deck. "My two brothers and I joined a mercenary company after the sawmill we worked at was ransacked."

"Well, you're back as scouts! Give the sergeant your names. It'll mean an extra bonus each month."

Karl walked over to Captain Rheinwald. "Pardon my intrusion Captain, but do you know where Master McDermott is? Captain Foxe asked me to give him a shooting lesson when I finished with the militia trainees."

"Here's your student now." Rheinwald motioned to Svend, whose head was just coming into view.

Joachim was showing his rifle to the sergeant as Svend and Agnes walked past. The simple lines caught Svend's eye and he paused to admire it. Karl walked over and spoke to Svend. "An interesting weapon, yes? Did Captain Foxe mention that he wanted me to give you a shooting lesson today?"

"Yes, just before I left. I was coming to see you."

Joachim tapped Svend on the shoulder, the rifle extended in his other hand. "Here, try this one. It was my younger brother's and it's a lot better then one of the old arquebuses." He reached for his powderhorn. "Let me show you how it's loaded."

Svend's delight with the offer was evident. "Thank you. I'll be careful with it."

After a twenty minute lesson in the care and loading of a rifle, Svend was ready to try his first shot. Joachim explained how to shoot. "Snug the rifle up to your shoulder. If you don't, you'll get a nasty bruise. Then sight down the barrel and line up your target with the sight on the end. Take a breath and hold it. Make sure you keep your eye on the target. Slowly exhale and then squeeze the trigger. Don't jerk it or you'll miss. Remember to allow for the roll of the ship and the movement of the target. Now try it!" A new barrel was pitched over the railing.

Svend went through the instructions in his head. Just as he pulled the trigger the ship pitched to the side a little and the shot missed by a foot.

"Not bad for a beginner. Now try reloading faster and let's shoot again." By the fifth shot, Svend had the reloading down to just over thirty seconds and had hit the barrel twice.

Karl stepped over. "Very good Mr. Hasselman. Your pupil learns quickly!" Svend also thanked Joachim and returned the rifle.

"You're a good shot, sir. I'd welcome you on a hunt with me anytime." Pulling out a cleaning kit, Joachim showed Svend how to clean the gun.

Karl watched thoughtfully. 
I think I may have found my sergeant of scouts. I'll talk with him later
 .

After the lesson, Svend managed to get Agnes to a quiet spot on the main deck where they could talk without being overheard. John was already hauling the boat in for the return trip and time was short. "I'll be back on Saturday to pick up the weekly reports. Do you think you'll have a chance to talk to your uncle before then?"

"I've already dropped some hints and he didn't seem surprised. I should have a chance after supper tonight."

"Then Saturday it is!" Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, Svend leaned over to give Agnes a quick kiss. She drew it out longer than he'd hoped for. A yell from John Barrow that the boat was ready hurried him off, with dreams of future happiness, but some trepidation about his upcoming meeting with Sir Thomas.

* * *

"I'm glad this is the last ship, Mr. McDermott. These waves are making for a long pull today." Svend was finishing his weekly rounds, picking up the ships' log entries. An oilskin packet had been needed today to keep the pages dry. As they reached the 
Hamburg
 , the boatman reminded him, "Watch the battens. They're awfully slippery in this weather. Wouldn’t want you to get your clothes dirty." The old sailor gave him a knowing wink.

"I'll be careful, Mr. Dunn. I don't relish a swim in these waters." Timing his leap, Svend grabbed hold of the side ropes and carefully made his way up the side to the entry port. A seaman met him at the port and handed Svend the Captain's report. A second seaman dropped a rope over the side so the boat could be secured and towed until they reached a point ahead of the 
Köbenhavn
 . Svend excused himself to find Agnes and Sir Thomas. Time was short. He took off the boat cape he had worn to protect himself from the sea spray. He was dressed in his best outfit. He had rehearsed all week what he planned to say. He reached Sir Thomas' cabin and knocked on the door. After a few seconds wait, Agnes opened it.

"Is Sir Thomas in?"

From the connecting cabin, Sir Thomas called out, "Come in, Mr. McDermott, we've been expecting you."

Agnes stepped aside and primly folded her hands behind her back. Svend took a deep breath and stepped in. Agnes stayed behind as he entered Sir Thomas' day cabin. Svend stood there, suddenly unsure how to start.

"Well, don't just stand there, come in! Agnes said you needed to see me today." Sir Thomas had a frown on his face and hands on his hips. A few of the planned phrases came back to Svend.

"Sir, I'm here to speak to you about Agnes. I . . . " He paused, unable to go on.

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