1633

by Eric Flint

  Luke started to voice his thoughts, but paused when he realized why Svend was so concerned. There was a slight chance she was still safe so he softened the answer. "I don't know, son. Rheinwald's one of the best captains I know. Given the damage they had the last time I saw them, they're not likely to be able to rendezvous before we reach Bell Island. If the winds go foul or she meets another storm, we might not see her until after we reach Hudson's Bay."

  Svend visibly brightened. "I know she's all right. I'd sense it if she was gone."

  Luke started to ask how he could tell when a ship was all right when he realized who the "she" was. He put his arm around Svend's shoulder, "I know you're close to Agnes, but when the sea's harsh, how do you know she's safe?"

  "I've known when people close to me were in trouble. I knew when Father died. I'm sure she's fine."

  Luke's unspoken thought was, " Keep your hopes, son. They're all we have now and they're thin at best ."

  * * *

  The next morning, an unexpected cry roused the ship.

  "Land ho, off the starboard bow!"

  There was a rush of feet on deck as the passengers and crew hurried to catch sight of land. Svend went to Captain Foxe's cabin to make sure he'd been told. He passed John Barrow on the way. When he entered the cabin, Luke was slowly getting dressed.

  "Sir, aren't you coming on deck?"

  "There's no hurry, we're still nearly a week from land."

  "But the sighting?"

  "I believe we'll find out shortly that the land is nothing but an iceberg. I'm surprised we haven't seen them sooner."

  Two minutes later, John knocked on the door and then entered, "As you suspected, Captain, just an iceberg. I'll have the boat ready for you after you finish eating."

  Luke nodded and motioned Svend to have a seat at the table, "After you finish breakfast, make sure to dress warmly. I'd like you to accompany the pastor and me for the service. I'll have some words to say afterward and I'd like you to hear them."

  After a quick meal, Svend ducked back to his cabin and picked up his cloak. When he emerged on deck, John already had the boat alongside. A quick glance around the horizon now showed a number of icebergs in sight, including a small one that was passing off the starboard side. In the early morning light, it appeared blue-white and sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight. A pair of bedraggled albatrosses were perched on it, resting. "I wish Agnes was here to see this. When I get back, maybe I'll draw a picture of it for her." He hurried across the deck and carefully climbed down the battens to the waiting boat.

  The sea was smooth, with long swells. The rowers had the boat alongside the Wilhelm in less than five minutes.

  Captain de Puyter greeted them as they boarded. "Pastor Bauman, thank you for agreeing to hold the service. The sailors also appreciate your offer to say a few words for their mates." As de Puyter shook the pastor's hand, Luke could see his own exhaustion from the past few days reflected in Jan's eyes.

  Captain James was the last to arrive. When he joined the group by the starboard rail, Captain de Puyter hove to, summoned the remainder of his crew on watch and the service commenced. The canvas wrapped body of Johannes Brueck was already resting on a board at the side port. His wife and grown son stood by as Pastor Bauman read the commitment service. When he finished, Captain de Puyter signaled for the seamen that had been standing by. The board was tipped and the body slid quietly into the sea. After a few private words of comfort to the new widow, Pastor Bauman continued with the memorial service for the sailors.

  Svend stood quietly with Luke; the Captain’s hand on his shoulder, waiting for the service to end. When Pastor Bauman started to speak on those lost aboard the fishing boats and the Hamburg, Svend took a deep breath and was ready to speak out. Luke's grip tightened in warning. He cautioned in a whisper, "Not now, son. Many of the sailors and settlers had friends on the Hamburg . It will calm them for the moment and means nothing if he's wrong."

  Svend gave a sullen look, but held his tongue. After the service, Luke stepped forward to add some remarks. "We've come through trials in the past few days on our journey that would have taxed the Israelites. But the journey is nearly done for many of you. Within the week, we will make landfall on Bell Island. When we land, those of you who will be staying will immediately start to build their new homes. When that's finished, you'll be called upon to establish the rules and laws you will live under. Our charter allows a great deal of latitude in how you govern yourselves. Before we reach Newfoundland, each ship will appoint three delegates for a committee to draft laws. I plan to explore the coast with the Köbenhavn and don't expect to remain more than four weeks before pushing on to Hudson's Bay with the rest of the expedition. Hopefully, our missing ships will rendezvous with us before we leave. I have a copy of the founding documents from the Virginia and Plymouth colonies and also some suggestions on your convention. We're going to be in a New World and that calls for new ideas. Choose your delegates well.

  "Captains, if you would see that your ships' companies receive the same directions and these copies, I would be obliged."

  The passengers gathered around those who could read to learn what the documents said. Luke steered Svend through the crowd toward the boat. He spoke just loud enough for Svend to hear. "This should give them something to take their minds off the tragedies of the past week."

  As they rowed back to the Köbenhavn, Luke contemplated the mood of the settlers. By and large, they appeared to have stoically accepted the recent setbacks. The probable loss of the Hamburg would cause problems in the future for the entire expedition, but he’d solve those as they arose. Suddenly, a scream from the deck of the Wilhelm broke the silence. Two passengers were pointing ahead of the boat. The rowers lost their stroke as they turned to see what the passengers were pointing at. A dark shape rose out of the water within yards of the boat. A spray of water drenched all aboard. The younger of the sailors screamed, "A monster!" and scrambled for the stern.

  Luke grabbed him by the collar and threw him back on his seat. "Belay that! That's no monster. It's a whale." The other sailor stood in a defensive pose with his oar raised. Luke waved him back to his seat. "It won't hurt us if we don't anger it. Put the oar down. You wouldn't do more than tickle it with something that small."

  Svend was fascinated. A moment later, two more whales broached the surface. The smallest of the three, a baby by its size, was curious and swam within an arm's length of the boat. The look in its eye convinced Svend it was friendly and meant no harm. Without thinking, Svend reached out and stroked its smooth skin.

  "Be careful, son," Luke said.

  The baby stayed nearby for the rest of the trip back to the Köbenhavn . When Svend boarded, it disappeared below the waves. John was standing by the rail, staring at the two larger whales as they cavorted on the surface, almost as if they were dancing.

  "Did you see that, Mr. Barrow? The little one let me touch it. It looked like it wanted to talk." Svend was nearly breathless from the excitement.

  "Aye, it did look friendly, but next time you might not be as lucky. We're going into the unknown and you need to think before you act." John gave him his best glare but realized it was a lost cause.

  The whales remained in the vicinity until the afternoon. Svend completed a series of drawings and showed them to Luke. The picture of the baby near the boat seemed to be almost alive. "Svend, you have a real talent. It's a shame you won't have a teacher to work with you further."

  "That's all right. I like to do it, but I really am looking forward to the exploring. If the drawings help that, I'll keep it up."

  * * *

  By the time the sun set, all repairs were completed. The ships shook out their sails and the course was set to the north-northwest. Luke surveyed the remaining ships. Everything appeared to be in order. He had the log cast. They were making five knots.

  "Well, John, if this wind holds, we should sight Bell Island in three to four days."

  "I hope you don't j
inx us, sir. I'll settle for a safe arrival."

  Over the next two hours, the winds became erratic, and then died down. For three days, the winds barely gave the ships steerage way. Finally, they resumed a steady southeasterly breeze. The next two days passed uneventfully. Svend spent his free time sketching the increasing varieties of birds that portended landfall. The most interesting was a strange, large billed bird; Captain Foxe called it a 'puffin.' The next morning, the sky to the southwest was red. Svend noticed John and Luke pointing and commenting. The only part of the conversation he caught was, "storm to the south, but it should miss." The sky turned cloudy as they day wore on and the seas were choppy. There was no chance to take a noon sight aboard the Köbenhavn. An hour before sundown, Luke passed within hail of the Henriette Marie .

  Taking a speaking trumpet, Luke hailed Captain James. "We're very close by my reckoning. For safety, we'll reduce sail to topsails only tonight. We should sight land in the morning." The passengers on deck took a moment to realize what had been said. A cheer started and soon all the ships heard the news. Sails were quickly taken in and the four ships gathered together to await the dawn as they steered north-northwest.

  Svend rose early and dressed by the light of the false dawn. After checking with John for permission, he ascended the foremast with his papers, pencils and a telescope. The western horizon was still dark but shortly after the sun rose, a reflection from what could only be distant hills brought a call of "Land ho!" from the lookout at the mainmast. The passengers and crew boiled on deck hoping to catch their first glimpse of the New World and not another iceberg.

  Soon after the lookout confirmed that they had sighted land, a delegation of passengers approached the aftercastle to inquire when they would be landing. They were somewhat crestfallen when Luke informed they wouldn't make their anchorage until the next evening or the following day. A light breeze from the south helped to make for a smooth passage. Around noon, under cloudy skies, a second headland appeared to the west. Svend kept busy sketching the views as they headed north. As the sun was setting, a final headland appeared. He only had time to do a brief sketch before the darkness forced him down to make way for the sailors furling sails for the night.

  The next morning, the sun broke through the clouds. At noon, Captain Foxe was able to get a solid position fix and the ships turned to the southwest. As the ships tacked back and forth to make their way in the variable wind, the day seemed to drag on interminably. At dusk, the ships hove to near the north end of Bell Island. The northern facing shores were covered in huge piles of ice. Luke repeated the previous evening's maneuver and hailed Captain James. "It looks like the ice is out. We should have clear sailing from here. We'll heave to and wait until morning to explore the coast for the best anchorage. I want a full day and sunlight when we land."

  Captain James agreed. "The days are still short. If we run into hostile inhabitants, we'll need all the daylight we can get. I'll pass the word to the other ships."

  The weather held clear that night, but no lights were visible from the distant shore. The land seemed deserted. At the first hint of light, sails were shaken out and the ships headed south. Just before noon, the cry of "sail ho!" interrupted the exploration.

  Luke called to the lookout, "How many?"

  "Only one, Captain!"

  "Can you make out who it is?"

  "It's the Bluefin . I recognize the cut of her sails. They appear to have a number of fires going on shore. I can see their smoke!"

  "Mr. Barrow, set a course toward her. We'll anchor just offshore from her."

  As they glided up to the anchorage, Luke studied the activity on shore. "It appears they've been here a few days. They're building drying racks for fish and huts for the crew. I hope they have news for us." He continued to survey the shore. The size of the clearing hinted at earlier visitors. Snow was still visible in the shadows and the ground was churned up mud around the huts.

  At an hour past noon on April 5th, Captain Foxe landed at Newfoundland. Captain Nielsen met him as he set foot on the rocky shore. "Welcome, Captain Foxe. It's been quiet since we landed. We found some broken tools and three graves, but the natives haven't shown themselves"

  Anxious for other news, Luke asked, "What happened after we parted? Do you have any word on the Bridget or the Hamburg ?"

  "Nothing on the Hamburg. We sailed with the Bridget to the Banks as agreed. Shortly before we arrived there, we met an Englishman loaded with cod and bound for England. He passed word that a Dutch frigate was raiding English and French ships on the Banks. Captain Anders and I agreed, I would head here and prepare the site for whatever he caught." He motioned over his shoulder past the huts. "Before I forget, we've already found plenty of fresh water."

  "You did well, Lars. We will start landing supplies and the settlers immediately. I just want to explore the coast and see if anyone else has settled here."

  Chapter 17

  Fort Sainte-Marie de Grace, La Have, Acadia

  Late February, 1634

  Jacque le Brey huddled near the warming fire in the guard house, trying to get some feeling back in his hands. While the fire’s heat was mostly illusory in the early morning cold, the fort’s walls at least kept the wind at bay. Why he had ever left France for Acadia was now a frozen memory. Why he had guard duty on such a frigid morning was still very fresh in his memory. He’d finally managed to overcome Claudette’s objections. He hadn’t been the first one to plow that field and he doubted her father knew. They were finishing dressing when her father, Sergeant Bascom, returned early from the tavern. Luckily, he thought that Jacque was just starting to seduce Claudette. Bascom swore that he would serve guard duty until hell froze over! This was his third week on night guard duty and no end was in sight. If the sergeant really knew what had happened, he’d probably be dead.

  He glanced toward the ramp leading to the firestep and realized he needed to make some rounds before the Sergeant made his sun rise inspection. Why the sergeant was so strict on procedure, he’d never understand. Nothing ever happened here. The light snow that had fallen during the night left a virgin blanket that the sergeant was sure to notice if there were no tracks showing that he’d at least made some effort to make his rounds. He grabbed his halberd and wearily trudged up the ramp.

  When he reached the top, he stopped and scanned the harbor. The ice was starting to break up and the first supply ship of the year was expected. The blowing snow obscured the view, but a brief lull revealed a ship anchored some distance off shore. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He continued to stare, until he realized that this was his chance to get off his punishment detail. If he alerted the town the ship had arrived, surely the Sergeant would relent! Before he could take two steps, a loud roar sounded from offshore. Too late! The ship had beaten him to the announcement! He continued down the ramp. At least he could tell them it was a large ship. Maybe that would be worth something. When he reached the bottom of the ramp, he stepped on a patch of ice and went sprawling. Then a huge explosion lifted him into the air and flung him against the wall. The guard house was completely destroyed. “Those idiots! They forgot to unload the shot in the barrel.” He shook his head trying to clear the cobwebs. “I have to get to the Captain and tell him what’s happened. As he struggled to stand up, he heard another roar. “I think we heard you the first time!” he growled. He started toward the gate. The world suddenly was a mass of flying splinters and dirt. Everything went dark.

  * * *

  Jacque le Brey was the first of many casualties that day. Sergeant Bascom was just leaving home for the morning inspection when the first shot rang out. He started to run toward the fort, but stopped short when the first shots struck. From where he was standing, he could see the ship in the harbor. His first thought was that the English had returned and were attacking New France again. As the ship unfurled its flag, he was dumbstruck when he recognized the Dutch flag. They’re our allies! Why are they firing on us? But then he remembered t
he passing comment made by the last ship’s captain before winter. He had heard rumors that France might be fighting again soon. Who or where he hadn’t heard. This answered part of that question. He ran to the fort’s gate and started to ring the alarm bell. “To arms! To arms! We’re under attack from the sea!” Within a few minutes, the first men reached the rough parade ground between the fort and the village, many still struggling to don their coats and hold on to their pikes. A second broadside struck the fort’s bastion, unseating two of the small four pounders mounted there to discourage pirates. As the Captain arrived, a third broadside struck, leveling a ten foot section of the seaward wall and wounding two men who had gone toward the fort for shelter.

  “Sergeant, what the hell is happening?” Captain Bouchard’s hat had been blown off by the blast and he was looking around trying to spot it in the snow. He found it alongside a wheelbarrow in a snow bank and jammed it back on his head. “Who is firing on us? The English?”

  “No sir. It’s a Dutchman. It appears to be only one ship, but it looks like a frigate.” Bascom pointed toward the harbor. “It’s anchored just off shore. I don’t know why that idiot le Brey didn’t sound a warning. If he’s still alive, I’ll make him wish he were dead!”

  The settlement’s leader, Sir Isaac de Razilly, arrived, dressed in his buff coat, with his nightshirt hanging out of his trousers. A servant was trying to catch up to him, clutching a loaded wheelock pistol and a scabbard. Men were crowded around, trying to ask questions. De Razilly pushed them roughly away and demanded attention from the sergeant. “Never mind him right now! Have they landed anyone?”

  Bouchard deftly pulled de Razilly aside. “Sir Isaac, I don’t know. As soon as I can sort out this mob, I’ll send parties down to the beach in each direction to check.” He turned and yelled at the men that had arrived, “Line up and shut up! I’ll tell you something as soon as I find out.” Looking at the damage the ship’s fire had already done to the fort, Bouchard didn’t have much hope for the near future. The straggling mob of settlers would have a hard time stopping a bunch of old women with brooms, much less a determined attack.