Birds of Prey (41 page)

‘I wish to sell fifteen of my slaves,’ he told her, ‘and I have prepared a list of them, setting out their personal details, their skills and training, their ages and the state
of their health. Five of the females are pregnant, so already the buyer will be assured of an increase on his, or her, investment.’

Katinka glanced at the document he handed her, then dropped it on the table top. ‘Tell me about Sukeena,’ she commanded. ‘Am I mistaken, or have I detected in her a drop of
northern blood? Was her father Dutch?’

Although Sukeena stood close by, Katinka spoke about the girl as though she were an inanimate object, without hearing or human sensitivity, a pretty piece of jewellery or a miniature painting,
perhaps.

‘You are observant, Mevrouw.’ Kleinhans inclined his head. ‘But no, her father was not Dutch. He was an English trader and her mother was a Balinese but, nonetheless, a woman
of high breeding. When I saw her she was in her middle age. However, I understand that in her youth she was a great beauty. Although she was merely his concubine, the English trader treated her
like a wife.’

All three studied Sukeena’s features openly. ‘Yes, you can see the European blood. It is the tone of her skin, and the set and shape of her eyes,’ said Katinka.

Sukeena kept her eyes lowered, and her expression did not change. Smoothly she continued with her duties.

‘What do you think of her appearance, Colonel?’ Katinka turned to Schreuder, and pressed her leg against his. ‘I am always interested in what a man finds attractive. Do you not
think her a delicious little creature?’

Schreuder flushed slightly, and moved his chair so that he was no longer looking directly at Sukeena.

‘Mevrouw, I have never had a penchant for native girls, even if they are half-castes.’ Sukeena’s face remained impassive even though, at six feet from him, she had heard the
derogatory description clearly. ‘My tastes incline very much towards our lovely Dutch girls. I would not trade the dross for the pure gold.’

‘Oh, Colonel, you are so gallant. I envy the pure golden Dutch girl who catches your fancy.’ She laughed, and he gave her a look more eloquent than the words that rose to his lips,
but perforce remained unspoken.

Katinka turned back to Kleinhans. ‘So if her father was English, does she speak that language? That would be a useful accomplishment, would it not?’

‘Indeed, she speaks it with great fluency, but that is not all. She has a way with guilders and runs the household with great economy and efficiency. The other slaves respect and obey her.
She has intimate knowledge of Oriental medicines and remedies for all illness—’

‘A paragon!’ Katinka interrupted his recital. ‘But what of her nature? Is she tractable, docile?’

‘She is as she appears,’ said Kleinhans, concealing the evasion with a ready reply and open face. ‘I assure you, Mevrouw, that I have owned her for five years and have always
found her completely compliant.’

Sukeena’s face remained as if carved in jade, lovely and remote, but her soul seethed with outrage at the lie. For five years she had withstood him, and only on the few occasions when he
had beaten her unconscious had he been able to invade her body. But that had been no victory for him, she knew, and took comfort from that knowledge. Twice she had recovered her senses while he was
still grunting and straining over her like an animal, forcing himself into her dry, reluctant flesh. She did not count this as defeat, she did not even admit to herself that he had conquered her,
for the moment that she regained consciousness she had begun to fight him again, with all the strength and determination of before.

‘You are not a woman,’ he had cried in despair, as she thrashed and kicked and wormed out from under him, ‘you are a devil,’ and, bleeding where she had bitten him and
covered with deep gouges and scratches, he had slunk away, leaving her battered but triumphant. In the end he had given up any attempt at forcing her into submission, and instead had tried every
other blandishment.

Once, weeping like an old woman, he had even offered her freedom and marriage, her deed of emancipation on the day that she married him. She spat like a cat at the thought.

Twice she had tried to kill him. Once with a dagger and once with poison. Now he made her taste every dish or bowl she served him, but the thought sustained her that one day she might succeed
and watch his death throes.

‘She does seem to have an angelic presence,’ Katinka agreed, knowing instinctively that the description would enrage its subject. ‘Come here, Sukeena,’ she ordered, and
the girl came to her moving like a reed in the wind.

‘Kneel down!’ said Katinka, and Sukeena knelt before her, her eyes modestly downcast. ‘Look at me!’ She raised her head.

Katinka studied her face, and spoke to Kleinhans without looking at him. ‘You say she is healthy?’

‘Young and healthy, never a day’s illness in her life.’

‘Is she pregnant?’ Katinka asked, and ran her hand lightly over the girl’s stomach. It was flat and hard.

‘No! No!’ Kleinhans exclaimed. ‘She is a virgin.’

‘There is never any guarantee of that state. The devil enters even the most heavily barred fortress.’ Katinka smiled. ‘But I will accept your word on it. I want to see her
teeth. Open your mouth.’ For a moment she thought Sukeena would refuse, but then her lips parted, and her small teeth sparkled in the sunlight, whiter than freshly carved ivory.

Katinka laid the tip of her finger on the girl’s lower lip. It felt soft as a rose petal, and Katinka let the moment hang, drawing out the pleasure, prolonging Sukeena’s humiliation.
Then, slowly and voluptuously, she ran her finger between the girl’s lips. The gesture was sexually fraught, a parody of the masculine penetration of the woman. As he watched,
Kleinhans’ hand began to tremble so violently that the sweet Constantia wine spilled over the rim of the glass he held. Cornelius Schreuder scowled and moved uneasily in his seat, crossing
one leg over the other.

The inside of Sukeena’s mouth was soft and moist. The two women stared at each other. Then Katinka began to move her finger slowly back and forth, exploring and probing while she asked
Kleinhans, ‘Her father, this Englishman, what happened to him? If he loved his concubine, as you say he did, why did he allow her children to be sold on the slave block?’

‘He was one of the English bandits that were executed while I was Governor of Batavia. I am sure you are acquainted with the incident, are you not, Mevrouw?’

‘Yes, I recall it well. The accused men were tortured by the Company executioner to ascertain the extent of their villainy,’ Katinka said softly, still gazing into Sukeena’s
eyes. The extremity of the suffering she saw in them amazed and intrigued her. ‘I did not know that you were the Governor at that time. The girl’s father was executed at your orders,
then?’ Katinka asked, and Sukeena’s lips quivered and closed softly around Katinka’s long white finger.

‘I have heard that they were crucified,’ Katinka breathed huskily, and Sukeena’s eyes filled with tears although her features remained serene. ‘I have heard that burning
sulphur flares were applied to their feet,’ Katinka said, and felt the girl’s tongue slide over her finger as she swallowed her grief. ‘And then the flares were held under their
hands.’ Sukeena’s sharp little teeth closed on her finger, not hard enough to be painful and certainly not hard enough to break or mark the white skin, but the threat was in her eyes,
which were filled with hatred.

‘I regret that it was necessary. The man’s obstinacy was extraordinary. It must be a national trait of the English.’ Kleinhans nodded. ‘To endorse the punishment I
ordered that the condemned man’s concubine, her name was Ashreth, be made to watch the execution, she and the two children. Of course, at the time I knew nothing of Sukeena and her brother.
It was not idle cruelty on my part but Company policy. These people do not respond to kindness, which they mistake for weakness.’ Kleinhans gave a sigh of regret at such intransigence.

The tears were sliding silently down Sukeena’s cheeks as Kleinhans went on, ‘Once they had fully confessed their guilt, the criminals were burned. The flares were thrown onto the
faggots of wood at their feet and the whole lot went up in the flames, which was a merciful release for all of us.’

With a small shudder Katinka withdrew her finger from between the girl’s trembling lips. With the tenderness of a satisfied lover she stroked the satiny cheek, her finger still wet with
the girl’s saliva leaving damp streaks on the amber skin.

‘What happened to the woman, the concubine? Was she also sold into slavery with the children?’ Katinka asked, not taking her gaze from those grief-wet eyes in front of her.

‘No,’ Kleinhans said. ‘That is the strange part of the story. Ashreth threw herself into the flames and perished on the same pyre as her English lover. There is no
understanding the native mind, is there?’

There was a long silence, and when a cloud passed over the sun the day seemed suddenly dark and chill.

‘I will take her,’ Katinka said, so softly that Kleinhans cupped a hand to his ear.

‘Please excuse me, Mevrouw, but I did not catch what you said.’

‘I will take her,’ Katinka repeated. ‘This girl, Sukeena, I will buy her from you.’

‘We have not yet agreed a price.’ Kleinhans looked startled: he had not expected it to be so easy.

‘I am certain your price will be reasonable – that is, if you also wish to sell me the other slaves in your span.’

‘You are a lady of great compassion.’ Kleinhans shook his head in admiration. ‘I see that Sukeena’s story has touched your heart and that you want to take her into your
care. Thank you. I know you will treat her kindly.’

H
al hung on the grating of the cell window and called his sighting to Aboli, who held him on his shoulders.

‘They have returned in the Governor’s carriage. The three of them, Kleinhans, Schreuder and Governor van de Velde’s wife. They are going back up the staircase—’ He
broke off and exclaimed, ‘Wait! There is someone else alighting from the carriage. Someone I do not know. A woman.’

Daniel, who was standing at the grille gate, relayed this message up the staircase to the solitary cells at the top.

‘Describe this strange woman,’ Sir Francis called.

At that moment the woman turned to say something to Fredricus the driver and, with a start, Hal recognized her as the slave girl who had stood in the crowd while they were being marched across
the parade.

‘She is small and young, almost a child. Balinese, perhaps, or Malaccan, something about the look of her.’ He hesitated. ‘She is probably of mixed blood, and almost certainly a
servant or a slave. Kleinhans and Schreuder walk ahead of her.’

Daniel passed this on, and suddenly Althuda’s voice came back to them down the stairwell. ‘Is she very pretty? Long dark hair twisted up on top of her head, with flowers in it. Does
she wear a green jade ornament at her throat?’

‘All those things,’ Hal shouted back. ‘Except that she is not pretty, she is lovely beyond the telling of it. Do you know her? Who is she?’

‘Her name is Sukeena. She is the one for whom I came back from the mountains. She is my little sister.’

Hal watched Sukeena mount the stairs, moving with the lightness and alacrity of an autumn leaf in a gust of wind. Somehow, while he watched this girl, his thoughts of Katinka were not so
all-consuming. When she disappeared from his sight, the light filtering into the dungeon seemed dimmer and the stone walls more damp and cold.

A
t first they had all been amazed by the treatment meted out to them in the castle dungeons. They were allowed to slop out the latrine bucket
every morning, drawing lots for the privilege. At the end of the first week, a load of fresh straw was delivered by one of the Company field slaves, driving an oxcart, and they were allowed to
throw out the verminous old straw that covered the floors. Through a copper pipe the water cistern was fed continuously from one of the streams that rushed down from the mountain, so they suffered
no hardship from thirst. Each evening a loaf of coarse-grained bread, the size of a wagon wheel, and a great iron pot were sent down from the kitchens. The pot was filled with the peelings and
offcuts of vegetables, boiled up with the meat of seals captured on Robben Island. This stew was more plentiful and tastier than much of the food they had eaten aboard ship.

Althuda laughed when he heard them discussing it. ‘They also feed their oxen well. Dumb animals work better when they are strong.’

‘We ain’t doing much work here and now,’ Daniel remarked comfortably, and patted his belly.

Althuda laughed again. ‘Look out of the window,’ he advised them. ‘There is a fort to build. You will not be sitting down here much longer. Believe me when I say it.’

‘Ahoy there, Althuda,’ Daniel shouted, ‘your sister isn’t English, so it makes sense that you aren’t an Englishman either. How is it that you speak like
one?’

‘My father was from Plymouth. I have never been there. Do you know the place?’

There was a roar of laughter and comment and clapping, and Hal spoke for them all. ‘By God, except for Aboli and these other African knaves, we are all Devon men and true. You are one of
us, then, Althuda!’

‘You have never seen me. I must warn you that I don’t look like you,’ Althuda warned them.

‘If you look half as good as your little sister, then you’ll do well enough,’ Hal replied, and the men hooted with laughter.

For the first week of their captivity, they saw the sergeant gaoler, named Manseer, only when the stew pot was brought in or when the bedding straw was changed. Then, suddenly, on the eighth
morning, the iron door at the head of the stairs was thrown open with a crash and Manseer bellowed down the well, ‘Two at a time, form up. We are taking you out to wash some of the stink off
you, or the judge will suffocate before he has a chance to send you to Stadige Jan. Come on now, shake yourselves.’

With a dozen guards keeping watch over them they were taken out in pairs, made to strip naked and wash themselves and their clothing under the hand pump behind the stables.