Golden Lion (21 page)

Tromp smiled and it was reflected in his blue eyes. ‘I would owe you my life. Twice over, since you could have fed me to the sharks that dawn after we met. Moreover, I am nothing if not an ambitious man.’ His blue eyes fixed on Hal. ‘I truly believe that sailing with you is my best hope of advancement.’

Hal considered everything he had heard. In truth even if Tromp broke his word it would be an almost impossible task for the Dutchmen to subdue the
Bough
’s crew and take the ship. On the other hand, the
Bough
was indeed a little short of men these days, and experienced hands would be very welcome.

‘What do you think, Mr Pett? Should I let Mr Tromp and his fellows join my crew?’

Pett looked taken aback. ‘It is none of my concern, Captain,’ he said, a line creasing his brow. ‘But you sailors being a superstitious lot, it cannot be a bad thing having a lucky man aboard.’

‘Lucky, Mr Pett? How so?’ Hal asked.

‘Lucky indeed,’ Pett assured him. ‘Firstly, he hit me from twenty paces, the two of us standing on a rolling deck. Secondly, my own shot merely grazed him, and I am not accustomed to missing that at which I aim.’

‘Those are surprising words, Mr Pett … for a man of business,’ Hal observed.

‘I believe I mentioned that my father gave me instruction in the use of firearms. He was a stern taskmaster and he taught me well. He would not have been pleased to see me fail him.’

‘I see.’ Hal looked at Pett. There was something about the man that disturbed him, something that wasn’t quite right. He knew he was not alone in his unease. He’d heard his crewmen talking about Pett’s eerie calm during the duel; the way he had barely flinched when he took Tromp’s shot; the cold assurance with which he had aimed at his adversary. On the other hand Tromp had gained huge kudos for the courage with which he had faced Pett, knowing that there was nothing whatever he could do to defend himself. Pett’s willingness to take his time and his evident annoyance that he had missed, however, disturbed the men, more than impressed them. Hal did not want the man on his ship for one second longer than was absolutely essential. Tromp, however, was another matter altogether.

‘Very well, then, Mr Tromp, my answer to your question is, “Yes”,’ he said. ‘I will take you on as second mate and I would be grateful if you could list the names of all your men and any particular skills that they possess.’

Tromp’s face burst into a beaming smile. ‘You will not regret your decision, Captain Courtney,’ he said.

Hal too smiled, but his words were no joke. ‘You’d better hope that I do not. I’ve placed my faith in you. But be sure that if you ever betray that faith, by God I’ll make you regret it.’

‘I’ll be watching you, Dutchman,’ Aboli growled.

‘Good, then you may learn a thing or two,’ Tromp quipped, leaving Aboli wide-eyed and almost speechless at such outrageous impudence.

‘Mind your tongue, Mr Tromp,’ Hal warned. ‘One duel is quite enough to be going on with. I wouldn’t want you provoking another.’

‘Aye-aye, Captain,’ replied Tromp.

To Hal’s relief, Mr Tromp proved himself very useful, the two of them poring over charts together, the Dutchman sharing his knowledge of the coast so that between them their combined experience would prove invaluable in the future.

It was, of course, far too soon to tell Tromp about Elephant Lagoon and the treasures there. But he did not have to be told that they were heading south, for a simple glance at the sun told him that and he did know of several safe anchorages between Zanzibar and the Cape where an English frigate might stop to take on fresh water without risk of attack from either Omani Arab warlords or the flotillas of Madagascan pirates which were known to prey on even well-armed vessels.

As for the other men of the
Delft
, they worked hard, if not harder, than anyone and were clearly experienced seamen or ‘seasoned Jack Tars’ as Ned Tyler had observed with grudging respect one morning when he and Hal had put them through their paces: making them run up the mainmast shrouds, out across to the ends of the yard and down again, only to repeat the activity until they were greasy with sweat and bent double catching their breath.

‘They’ll do, Mr Tyler,’ Hal said, keeping his satisfaction to himself. ‘Have our lads accepted them though? That’s the thing.’

‘Aye, there’s the usual banter of course, what with them being cheese-heads, but that’s a good sign as you well know, Captain.’

The words were said cheerfully enough, but Hal could sense that there was something else that Tyler wasn’t telling him. ‘Something’s troubling you, Ned, I can see it in you. Care to tell me what it is?’

‘Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing, Captain …’

‘I’ll be the judge of that. Tell me.’

Tyler gave a long sigh, tamped down the tobacco in the clay pipe he liked to smoke, then puffed away to get it all burning nicely again. Hal let him take his time, knowing that it would be entirely counter-productive to rush the grizzled, weatherbeaten helmsman. Finally Tyler said, ‘It’s Mr Pett. Now I don’t mean no disrespect to the gentleman, but I’m afraid that the crew haven’t taken to him, like. Haven’t taken to him at all.’

Hal had been raised by his father to take good care of his men. ‘You’re asking them to climb out on the topgallants shrouds when there’s a gale blowing, and board an enemy ship when the grapeshot’s flying,’ Francis Courtney used to say. ‘They’ll do that grudgingly if they’re frightened to disobey you. But if you treat them right, and see to their needs, they’ll do it willingly because they want to obey you.’

So now he took Tyler’s words seriously. ‘Is there anything in particular they don’t like?’

‘Well, for a start, they don’t think he’s right in the head. He’s polite enough at dinner and can even spin a decent yarn, I’ll grant him that. But a lot of the lads say he talks to himself when he doesn’t think anyone’s listening, like he’s having a conversation with someone only he can see. And he talks about God and the angels and suchlike.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with having a good, Christian faith.’

‘Aye, Captain, that’s true. But Mr Pett’s not like that. There’s something …’ Tyler cast around for the right word. ‘I don’t know,’ he said finally. ‘But it’s just not right, the way he is. Peculiar, you might say.’

Hal was just opening his mouth to speak but Ned cut him off. ‘And then there’s that whole duel business, too. The way he stood there and just let Mr Tromp shoot him, like he didn’t feel it or nothing. And then, there was a look on his face when he aimed at Mr Tromp, all cold, like he wasn’t bothered at all about shooting another man, like he might have been shooting a rat, or something … vermin, anyway. And when he didn’t kill him …’

‘He was disappointed, yes, I saw that too,’ Hal said. ‘And I know what you mean about the crew not liking him. I’d seen signs of something brewing in the men, but until now I hadn’t realized what it was.’ Hal sighed. ‘I’d really been hoping to avoid it …’

‘What’s that, then, Captain?’

‘Zanzibar. The whole place is run by Omani Arabs, the very same people whose ships we sunk so cheerfully up and down the Red Sea. I can’t see them looking very kindly on the
Golden Bough
if she turns up in their harbour. But then again …’

Hal thought for a second and said, ‘Ned, be so kind as to tell Mr Aboli, Mr Tromp and Master Fisher that I wish to see them, and you too, of course, in the captain’s quarters at midday.’

When the men assembled, with Judith also in attendance, Hal told them, ‘It has been brought to my attention that Mr Pett is, quite unintentionally, I’m sure, disturbing the morale of the crew. I will therefore go ashore in Zanzibar with Mr Pett and escort him to His Majesty’s Consul there, so that between them they can find the fastest possible means of getting him back to England. This will also be to Mr Pett’s advantage, and that of the East India Company, for if he sails north to Suez and then makes an overland trip to Alexandria, whence he can sail back to London, his journey will be far faster than it would be were he to sail around the Cape aboard the
Golden Bough
. As you will gather from his absence here, this is not a proposal over which I plan to give Mr Pett any say. His removal will also put to an end any lingering unpleasantness between himself and Mr Tromp.’

‘There is none on my part, I assure you, Captain,’ Tromp said.

‘And I believe you. Nevertheless, we have done our duty by Mr Pett in rescuing him and providing him with good quarters and regular meals. Now we shall conclude our obligations by helping him back home. I also have various items of mail to send back to Britain. Viscount Winterton, for one, has a right to know what has happened to his ship, and to his poor son, for I fear he may not know of his passing.’

‘Are we sailing the
Bough
into Zanzibar?’ Aboli asked. ‘Surely there will be many there who know of her exploits in the Red Sea, indeed some who have witnessed them and who will recognize a ship that did them great harm.’

‘I agree. That is why we will moor the
Bough
at least a full day’s sail from Zanzibar City and proceed there aboard the
Delft
. You may have your own command back for the purpose, Mr Tromp. And before you point out that you, too, do not want your ship to be recognized I will say that there is little chance that anyone now in Zanzibar also saw the
Delft
in the waters of the East Indies. We shall change her name. I thought the “Christina” would do nicely. I know it’s a name that you regard fondly, after all.’

The men all laughed, knowing that this was the name of the admiral’s daughter Tromp had seduced and liking the Dutchman all the better for the fact that he willingly joined in the laughter. ‘Damn the woman!’ he said. ‘I thought I’d left her for good in Batavia!’

‘The crew, however, will all be good
Bough
men,’ Hal added, ‘both because they can keep an eye on you while I am ashore, and because I may have need of them if I am not welcomed with open arms. I shall, of course, go ashore under an assumed name. But Consul Grey will know me at once and he may still harbour a grudge against me.’

‘You did betray him, Gundwane,’ Aboli observed. ‘If any man did that to me, I would not soon forgive him.’

‘I did not betray him directly,’ Hal countered. ‘I bought a Letter of Marque commissioning me to fight with the Arab fleet, and I paid him handsomely for it, too, I might add. Of course, I would never have taken up arms for Mussulmen against a Christian foe. I cannot believe he did not know that, and I am sure that he has not been held responsible for my actions. And even if he has, Consul Grey will always be a man who places money ahead of any other allegiance. If necessary I will soothe his troubles with gold.’

Aboli still looked sceptical, but he remained silent for he never wanted to be seen to question Hal’s authority in front of any members of the crew, no matter how senior or well-trusted. The plan was accepted, and the ship’s officers left the room, leaving Hal alone with Judith.

‘I must ask you something,’ she said.

‘Of course, my love,’ replied Hal. He looked at Judith with a concerned frown across his brow and asked. ‘Are you not well?’

She smiled and touched his forearm, reassuringly. ‘I am very well. But I am also with child, which means that I now feel sick or exhausted from time to time, and in due course, when the time comes, I will feel great pain.’

‘No! I won’t allow it!’ Hal said.

Judith laughed gently. ‘There are some things that are beyond your command, even on your ship,’ she said. ‘Childbirth is hard, painful. That is why they call it labour. I wish there were another woman on board to help me with it. Perhaps when the time comes we can put ashore somewhere and find a midwife.’

‘That may be hard to find in Africa, my darling.’

‘Not if I were at home. I would have all the women of my family and servants too. But we shall manage as best we can and there are certain herbs and medicinal preparations that will help me, both removing feelings of sickness and helping to lessen the pain. I’m sure that there will be apothecaries in Zanzibar who will be able to provide them.’

‘Of course, I quite understand,’ Hal nodded. ‘Just let me know what you need and I will find it for you.’

‘No, Henry, my love, you will not,’ said Judith, though she spoke with such a loving voice that Hal barely noticed that she had flatly contradicted him. ‘You have other, more important things to do and besides, you are a man, so you would not know what to get, or understand even if I told you. And you are English, so you cannot discuss this matter with an apothecary whose sole languages are Arabic or Swahili.’

‘Perhaps so, but you are the wicked General Nazet, who defeated not one but two great Mussulman armies. Every devout Zanzibari will hate you.’

‘They hate the general, that’s true,’ Judith replied. ‘They think she is a monster, a gorgon, the bride of Shaitan, who has come to earth in the form of a human. What they will see when I walk through the market, or step into a cool, dark shop seeking treatment from an apothecary for various female problems is a respectable, polite, modest young woman, with her hair beneath a veil, going about her daily business. Why should anyone look at her and think: “There goes General Nazet”?’

Hal gave her a wry smile. ‘Very well. I know when I’m beaten. I don’t have any more chance against you than those Arab generals did. We shall go together, you and I, to Zanzibar. And let us just hope that we leave together also.’

he
Delft
, now bearing the name ‘Christina’ crudely painted across her stern, entered the harbour of Zanzibar City at dawn. A longboat took Hal, Judith and Aboli ashore – Mr Pett having indicated that he would prefer to remain aboard ship until his meeting with Consul Grey had been arranged. To Judith’s delight it transpired that there was an apothecary’s shop in one of the old whitewashed buildings that lined the harbour front outside the fortress walls. ‘That makes sense,’ Hal said. ‘He must do a roaring trade with nervous travellers seeking a cure for their seasickness and sailors who just need a cure for the pox.’