Ill Wind and Dead Reckoning: Caribbean Pirate Adventure (Valkyrie) (3 page)

Mr van Ecken summoned me, and I left Klara packing my chest and joined him and Captain Hornigold on the deck at the back of the ship above the cabin. I looked shoreward. There it was – Sayba. We’d entered a small bay, bathed in sunshine, around which a town huddled.

‘Eckerstad,’ Mr van Ecken said with pride. Klara had been tight-lipped about my fiancé, Erik, but she had told me about the town. Eckerstad had been founded by the man beside me – Jan van Ecken – and he was also Governor. It was the only town on the island, and Jan and Erik lived in the largest estate – my new family was the most important in Sayba.

Captain Hornigold shouted, ‘Let go anchor!’ and a man on the foredeck swung a large mallet. The anchor, which had been suspended on a wooden frame to the side of the bow, dropped with a tremendous splash. The ship slowed and swung round until the anchor warp jerked tight and we were held in place.

‘Ready the longboat!’

It was time to go and van Ecken led me to the side of the ship and that carrying seat suspended from the spars above. I didn’t protest this time but sat in silence, drenched with sweat in the heat, as I was lowered to the small boat already loaded with our chests. Van Ecken then Klara followed and we were rowed ashore.

A short, heavy, red-faced man with a basic open carriage was waiting for us.
My fiancé?

‘Rensink,’ van Ecken gruffly greeted. ‘Where’s my son?’

Not Erik then
. I sighed in relief.

‘He sends his apologies for not meeting you in person, there was an important matter that needed his attention.’

‘Hmpf!’ Mr van Ecken did not seem pleased. ‘May I present Mistress Berryngton? This is Rensink, Brisingamen’s overseer,’ he introduced. ‘Erik should be here his wife to greet,’ he continued.

I stayed silent – I’d already learned it was the best tactic where Jan van Ecken was concerned.

We climbed aboard the carriage; van Ecken sitting up front with Rensink, who took the reins of the single horse. Klara and I sat behind and the chests were lifted up into the bed of the cart. We left with no farewells to the sailors who’d brought us here.

*

We were soon
surrounded by jungle and I gazed about me at every shade of green imaginable and every description of bloom: red spikes, soft yellows, blues, pinks and more. The air was flooded with scent and filled with noise, and the heat made me feel faint – it could not have been more different from Massachusetts Bay.

After half an hour the trees thinned out and we drove through sugarcane fields. I noticed something to one side, and peered closer, then turned to Klara to ask about it. Her head was turned and she refused to look or answer. I turned back, fascinated, until the shape of it started to make sense. A cage – just large enough to hold a man – and suspended from one of the larger trees. We drew level and I gasped when I saw the base was littered with bones.

‘The slaves may have the strength of beasts, but they also have the minds of beasts.’ Van Ecken had turned in his seat to address me. ‘They need sometimes reminding who their masters are.’

I stared at him in shock, unable to find any words, and he turned to face forward again.

‘Here we are – Brisingamen,’ he said a few moments later and with obvious pride. I craned my neck to see past him and Rensink to catch my first glimpse of my new home.

It was very large: two storeys painted gold, with a steep roof and a short, squat tower at either end. A broad veranda ran the length of the front and overlooked a large lawn. It made Father’s cottage in Massachusetts Bay look like a shack. I smiled, although I couldn’t quite shake the image of that cage from my mind.

I followed Mr
van Ecken through the largest of the seven arches framing the veranda into a large entrance hall in the centre of the house. Dominated by a grand staircase straight ahead and with the walls painted white so as not to clash with the black-and-white tiled floor, it was an ostentatious display of the van Eckens’ wealth. I could see only two doors, one to the left, the other to my right, and I jumped when two men dressed in indigo livery with gold braiding appeared out of the shadows behind the staircase.

‘Hans, Hendrik, get the chests from the carriage,’ van Ecken ordered. They both nodded once and gave us a wide berth as they walked outside. I smiled as they passed me, but neither met my eyes.

I glanced at Klara, but she also kept her eyes to the floor.

‘In here,’ van Ecken said, marching to the left-hand door and opening it. I walked through into a large, airy drawing room. Decorated in gold-flock wallpaper, it had three large settees and a number of small carved tables.

A large oil painting of a formidable-looking woman dressed in black dominated the walls, and she looked across the room towards the veranda and outside. I crossed to the veranda doors and looked out at the large expanse of garden in front of the house, and wondered what there would be to do here.

Raised voices disturbed my thoughts, but I couldn’t understand what was being said. I watched two men leave the house; they looked quite similar in that they both had broad shoulders and bowed legs; just like the sailors on the ship. They also wore the same clothes – linen shirts and short, baggy breeches, but these two had added all sorts of finery to the basic outfit. Good quality leather boots on their feet, colourful sashes around their waists, and the brightest, most heavily decorated frockcoats I’d ever seen. One was in cochineal red with lace at the cuffs and collar, braiding around every hem and seam, embroidery in between, plus large brass buttons.

The other wore bright yellow over an emerald green sash with similar fripperies. They had clashing silk scarves over their heads, and large-brimmed hats on top. I’d never set eyes on such gaudy gentlemen in my life, and I giggled to myself, imagining the reactions if they walked into the puritan Massachusetts Bay Colony dressed like that.

Hans and Hendrik appeared leading a couple of horses for them, but I turned as the door to the room opened and didn’t see them leave.

Mr van Ecken entered ahead of a younger man.
Erik?
They didn’t acknowledge me at first, but continued arguing in a language I didn’t understand. I looked from one to the other as they quarrelled, wondering what they were saying and feeling very uncomfortable.

The younger man – presumably my husband-to-be – looked presentable enough. About my height, he wore a tightly curled periwig – the yellow of which clashed with his dark, exaggerated moustaches. He’d dressed with care, his clothes of obvious quality.
Although the gold buckles on his shoes are overdoing it a bit
. I looked back at his face – his lips were thin and eyes cold. There was very little expression on that face, and I shuddered a little. He didn’t look like a man who smiled very often.

‘This is her,’ the elder van Ecken finally said in English. ‘Gabriella Berryngton.’

I stepped forward. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

He looked me up and down, then said something else to his father that I couldn’t understand. It did not sound complimentary. He stepped towards me, bowed stiffly and took my hand to kiss.

‘Welcome,’ he said, coldly. ‘I’m Erik van Ecken. The wedding is planned for next month so you have time to prepare. There’ll be five extra for dinner – tell Belinda and organise the menu. I have work to do.’ He left the room.

I looked at the father. ‘Belinda?’ I asked.

‘You haven’t met Belinda yet?’ He sounded angry. ‘What is that bloody girl thinking?’ He marched to the door and shouted for Klara. I flinched. When did he think Klara had had chance to introduce me to anyone? Why hadn’t he made any introductions himself? He hadn’t even introduced his son – I’d been forced to guess that was who he was.

I realized then what Erik had said.
The wedding’s arranged for next month. Did they make the arrangements before finding a bride?

My thoughts were interrupted by Klara’s entrance. I noticed she gave Jan a wide berth.

‘About time, girl! Your mistress hasn’t been introduced to Belinda yet – see to it! She has a dinner party to plan, apparently our nautical friends are joining us.’ He marched out and Klara and I looked at each other in amazement.

‘He doesn’t seem to like these “nautical friends”,’ I remarked.

‘With good reason,’ muttered Klara. ‘I’ll fetch Belinda,’ she continued before I could ask what she meant.

I lay my
head against the edge of the bathtub and sighed. Klara looked up from her unpacking and giggled. ‘You’ve had a bath nearly every day that I’ve known you. I’m surprised you don’t wash away!’

‘I know.’ I laughed with her. ‘I hated them at home, barely had one a month, but it was the only way I could think of to keep you out of Hornigold’s cabin – there’s only so much sewing I can do in a day. They must have thought me mad!’ Klara stopped smiling and put her head down. ‘And it’s so hot here, I’m going to need one every day just to cool down,’ I carried on, trying to rescue the mood.

Klara looked up at me again. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘He’d have carried on taking me every night if you hadn’t stopped him.’

‘I’m sorry about that first night, I didn’t understand—’ I tailed off again, not knowing what to say. Klara stayed silent. I hoped I hadn’t spoilt the tentative friendship growing between us.

She shut the lid of my chest, which had been placed at the foot of the ornate four-poster bed. There hadn’t been much to do; I’d found a full wardrobe of gowns through a door off my room – all of them of much better quality than even my best. Mine would stay in the chest.

I looked around the room. The bed itself was draped with fine muslin curtains and smothered in velvets and brocades. The walls were also richly decorated in a deep red and hung with tapestries – even the floor was adorned with rugs – and the furniture was solid and elaborately carved. My chest looked completely out of place.

‘Would you cover that with something please, Klara?’

She smiled and threw a length of burgundy brocade over it. I thanked her and thought back over the events of the day.

‘Belinda seems very nice,’ I said, and Klara smiled and nodded.

‘I don’t know what I’d do without her,’ she said. ‘She arrived a couple of years ago from England with her husband, John.’ I leaned back with my eyes closed to listen to her story. ‘They’d signed up for five years servitude, but John died within weeks – of the jungle fever.’

‘Oh no!’ I sat up, shocked at the misfortune of the large, friendly woman I’d met earlier – the only person so far who’d welcomed me on sight.

‘Yes, it was the same fever that took Mevrouw van Ecken – that’s her in that picture over the fireplace in the drawing room. Horrible woman she was.’

I nodded, remembering the painting, and I realized there was a fireplace in this room too.
Why do we need fireplaces on an island this hot?

‘Anyway, Mijnheer Jan told her she’d have to work John’s passage off as well as her own – I don’t think she’ll ever get away from this place.’

‘The poor woman,’ I exclaimed. ‘But she’s so cheerful.’

‘Yes, she keeps saying she has nowhere else to go, and at least she’s needed here.’

I didn’t know what to say so changed the subject. ‘What about these “nautical friends” that are coming tonight – do you think Hornigold will be one of them?’

‘Sure to be. And his quartermaster, Cheval, do you remember him? There’ll be Captain Tarr and
his
quartermaster as well, Blake. And probably Sharpe, too, though he’s not too bad.’

I stared at her in horror. On my first night in my new home, I had to dine not only with my overbearing future father-in-law and my downright rude fiancé, but near half-a-dozen pirates – one of whom at least already hated me. ‘How am I going to do this?’ I whispered. ‘I can’t think of anything worse.’

‘Oh, there’ll be worse all right, believe me, there’ll be worse.’ She spoke quietly and I looked up at her, not sure I’d heard her properly.

‘We’ll make sure you’re dressed perfectly, so Mijnheer Erik can’t find fault – I know what he likes and what he doesn’t. Stay as quiet as you can at the table – don’t give them reason to notice you – that would be my advice.’

I nodded, unable to find words, then stood so Klara could dress me.

‘Ow! What are you doing?’ She’d put the stays around my middle and was pulling the strings extremely tight behind my back. The belt with the supporting wooden bars was cutting into my flesh.

‘That’s how he likes it, as tight as possible. It’s just for the evening, you’ll hardly see him during the day.’

I bit my tongue and trusted her to prepare me for the ordeal ahead.

I made my
way downstairs and entered the drawing room through an elaborately carved door. The room was empty.

I sat down, but was too nervous about the evening ahead and uncomfortable in my new gown with the tight stays. I stood again, and wandered over to the picture of Erik’s mother. She was dressed in black with a high white lace collar and stared out at the room in disapproval.
Had that been her usual expression? It must have been if she was painted that way.
Her brow was furrowed, her nose hooked and her lips almost non-existent, but that could just have been the effects of her bad humour. I peered closer at the frame:
Adelheid
– a beautiful name for an ugly woman.

I turned quickly as the door opened to men’s voices. Jan, Erik and the two Gaudies from earlier came in first. My heart sank as I recognized Captain Hornigold behind them, Cheval was also here – and Mr Sharpe. Was I really to dine alone with these seven men? It would have been unheard of in Massachusetts Bay. I straightened my shoulders and held my head high – I would not show these men my unease.

‘Good evening,’ I said.

‘Goedenavond,’ Jan van Ecken replied, which I assumed was ‘good evening’ in Dutch. Erik only grunted.

‘Captain Hornigold, Cheval and Sharpe you already know.’ Jan waved an arm in their direction. Hornigold and Cheval smirked, but Mr Sharpe offered me a small bow.

‘And may I Captain Tarr and Quartermaster Blake present?’ The Gaudies approached me. Tarr was the one in red, Blake wore the yellow. They both bowed, kissed my hand, and murmured greetings. I concentrated my entire will on not cringing away from them.

I looked at Erik; he hadn’t yet greeted me properly. He’d donned a dark green frockcoat for the evening and carried a silver-tipped cane. He looked very distinguished and I offered him a small smile. Jan barked something at him in Dutch and he walked over to me and took my hand.

‘You look lovely,’ he said.

I dropped my eyes and blushed. Angry at the reddening in my cheeks, which I knew made my freckles even more obvious, I whispered my thanks. We were saved from any more awkwardness by the entrance of the two liveried men from earlier carrying trays of drinks. Wine for myself and the van Eckens; what smelled like rum for the sailors.

We sat with our drinks, Erik next to me on one of the sofas, and struggled to find conversation until the dining room doors were opened – our cue to walk through to the table.

Erik showed me to a chair next to his at one end of the table, his father sat at the far end, and the sailors arranged themselves in the remaining seats. I was relieved to find Mr Sharpe sitting at my left, although was not looking forward to a meal sitting opposite Captain Hornigold.

Jan said grace and Klara, Hans and Hendrik brought in the food. Soup to start, then the stewed goat I’d agreed with Belinda earlier. I looked up at Klara as she placed a plate in front of Erik and froze. His hand was on her thigh, and she had not reacted.

I gasped in shock and was aware of Hornigold smirking across from me. Klara wouldn’t look at me and Erik didn’t seem to have realized anything was amiss until Jan spoke sharply in Dutch, and he snatched his hand away.

I stared at my plate, mortified, with no idea of what to do or say, but knowing from years of living with Father not to make a scene, especially in front of company.

‘So, are you enjoying being on dry land again?’ Sharpe asked, his voice light and breaking the tension. I turned to him gratefully, and told him how beautiful the island and house was. I carried on talking – most of it nonsensical and my voice shrill, but he feigned interest. Soon, the rest of the party struck up conversations and the incident was over. I smiled my gratitude at Sharpe and started to eat, desperate for the evening to be over.

*

The meal passed in a blur. Erik hardly spoke to me, and the pirates were loud, coarse and thought nothing of swearing at the table. Only Sharpe paid me any attention, and I was aware of drinking more glasses of wine than was prudent.

I concentrated on using the knife and fork, and wondered if we would be using them every night. At home, the forks were only used when we had company, the rest of the time we used our fingers. I was amused to see Hornigold and Cheval struggle with the dainty instruments, and giggled to myself as I saw their food dropping from the tines so often that they were reduced to watching the others to see how the forks were properly used.

*

I excused myself
as soon as I was able, leaving the men in the drawing room and escaping to my room. I pulled the cloth covering my old chest away. I didn’t fit in here, but I wouldn’t hide, nor would I hide my belongings.

Klara entered a few minutes later and I glared at her, the wine emboldening me.

‘You said something earlier, that you know what Erik likes.’

She said nothing, just looked at me, her face expressionless.

‘Exactly what is your relationship with my fiancé?’ I asked as mildly as I could.

‘Relationship?’ She laughed. ‘The only
relationship
is that of master and slave. I was born into slavery, and given to Erik on his sixteenth birthday. I was twelve, and he could do with me what he wished. If I didn’t please him, I was beaten.’ She looked at the floor, tears in her eyes. I felt ashamed.

‘He still does whatever he wants with me,’ she continued. ‘I dare not refuse him. His beatings have got worse since he started using that cane, and his father hates me – he would welcome any opportunity to lock me inside that cage we passed on the way here and leave me to starve or thirst to death.’ She looked at me again, tears running down her cheeks.

I remembered Hornigold on the boat, and how meekly Klara had gone to him that first night when she’d been summoned, and felt sick.
Is that all she knows of men? Is that all there
is
to know? Do I really have to marry a man such as that?

I stood and passed her a lace kerchief to dry her eyes. I wanted to hug her, but something held me back. She dried her eyes and pocketed the kerchief.

‘Would you like those stays loosening now, Miss Gabriella?’

‘My goodness, yes! I could hardly eat, they’re so tight!’ I was relieved to move off the subject. I needed time to think about it all, my head was awhirl.

Klara’s fingers started the laborious task of untying the various layers of my gown and I put my hand to my head.

‘Are you well, Miss Gabriella?’

‘Dizzy,’ I gasped. In fact I felt as if I was going to faint.

‘It’s because of the stays – lean forward and put your head between your knees, I’ll fetch you some water.’

I did as I was told, and did start to feel better. I straightened when Klara returned with a glass of water and sipped gratefully.

‘Better?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

My head had stopped spinning and I started to relax. I wanted to ask her why Jan hated her, and why he hadn’t sold her in that case, but couldn’t find a tactful way of phrasing my questions. They’d have to wait for another day.

I sighed in relief as the stays were finally removed and massaged the tender skin of my stomach, which felt bruised. Klara took a pot of something from the dresser.

‘Belinda makes this – it’s wonderfully soothing for damaged flesh.’ I scooped out a handful and rubbed it into my belly, and Klara did the same for my back. I stared at the wall in silence.