by Smith, Skye
Britta had not left go of Montagu's arm since they had climbed into the carriage, and even now she was 'innocently' rubbing his arm between her cleavage. There were goosebumps on the golden skin of her breasts, but being cold never stopped her from throwing back her cloak to display her abundance. Daniel idly wondered if she had ever bounced him, for the look of lust on his face hid the fact that he was a newly married man, having just married his departed wife's cousin. No, she wouldn't have. How often had she told him that women were sexier wearing wisps of clothes than naked, and men were more generous to the women they wanted than to the women they wanted ... again.
"It is so good of you to take us to see the field guns, Edward," she gushed as she wriggled her breasts against his arm. "It would have been so dreary to go there in an open trap in this rain. Your carriage is truly fit for a queen." She shot Daniel a sly glance that said "I told you so" stronger than any words could have.
The security around the warehouse was tight. Was it the Earl of Warwick's wealth that had been used to raise, arm, and equip six thousand men who were new to the London trainbands, or was it the wealth of the Providence Company. Certainly the Providence warehouses were in heavy use. All lanes running to the warehouse were barricaded and guarded. Men tripped over themselves to move the barricades and let the carriage through. Not because the Earl of Manchester was gazing out through the carriage window, but because the Earl of Warwick's courtesan was.
To her credit, Britta knew the name of the sergeant at the barricade and asked after his new baby, and the name of the sergeant at the great door, and asked after his new wife. The carriage had to wait but a moment before the great doors of the warehouse were rolled out of the way so the carriage could be under the roof before its occupants climbed down.
Montagu swung her down from the carriage step with a flourish of cloak and gown. Her cloak and her gown. To his pleasure he realized that he was envied by the many men standing about watching. The rough militia men recognized him and stomped their heels and saluted, but when they recognized the fair damsel they bowed as if she were a princess.
Between the earl and the princess, Daniel was ignored. Eventually one of the warehouse managers recognized the captain whose ships had brought some of the more critical supplies stored within this warehouse from the Netherlands. He called out, "How's it Cap'n, sir? I hear ya got more Rotterdam cargo for us?. Genever perhaps? Oh please may there be Genever."
"I've come to take, not to bring," Daniel replied, a bit confused by the question. "I've been promised a dozen field guns from the surplus that Admiral Rich has sent you from the disbanding of the Summer Fleet." Robert Rich was not only the richest Earl in the land, but also the Lord Admiral of the mighty Summer Fleet.
"But there must be some mistake," the manager said with raised eyebrows. "The cannons have been claimed already by the army of the Earl of Essex. A colonel came this morning to take them away."
Montagu stepped forward, obviously irritated. He did not like nor trust the Earl of Essex, and besides, this was the armoury of the trainbands of London and not of Essex's army. "But I had an agreement with Essex. He would draw from the Kingston-upon-Thames armoury, while the trainbands would draw from the stores that Warwick had freed up from the navy."
"The colonel had orders and papers," the manager explained in a huff but with a slightly guilty look. "He explained that the army needed them to protect London, and that they could not wait for the delay in transporting them from Kingston. Not with Prince Rupert's flying army worrying Windsor and with the Thames running so low that large barges cannot pass." It was all true of course, even about the Thames barges. River levels all over the kingdom were still low for the usual autumn rains had yet to begin.
"Low," Daniel seethed. "Low. So use the smaller barges that can reach Kingston at any time of year." This was also true. The Thames was navigable all year round by small barges as far as Kingston. At Kingston the Thames became a smaller river, which is why it had a bridge across the Thames, the next bridge after London Bridge.
"Well there's your answer then cap'n," the manager replied in hopes of distancing himself from this situation. "You claim the field guns in Kingston and float them back to London."
Montagu groaned. "Do you realize the amount of paperwork such an exchange would require?" He stared at the manager, but did not press the point. This man of all men would understand the paperwork. It was his job, his function, his reason to be.
"Nary a problem your lordship," replied the manager. "I'll have it ready before the cap'n's crew have their cargo unloaded from his ship."
"What cargo? What ship?/' Daniel asked, confused.
"Why the Swift of course. Docked this morning carrying two thousand Dutch made flinted muskets. I already have the manifest."
"The Swift, it is here, now?" Daniel asked with a gleam in his eye. He hadn't set foot on the clan's largest ship the 'Swift Daniel' for months, and he hadn't spoken to Anso, the current captain in all of that time.
"As I said, docked this morning with the crew tellin' the usual lies about outracing the Dunkirker privateers."
"Even with ten tons of cargo aboard there is no ship on the sea that can catch her," Daniel said proudly. He personally had seen to her being re-rigged from lateen to fore-aft rig in Bermuda, which had improved her from a fast ship into a nibble and fast ship. Even down wind only a huge tall ship could keep up with her. Across or up wind, she walked away from every ship, even the Dunkirker privateer lateen-galliots. To say he was proud of the Swift was an under statement. "I came to London by coach, but it is a fair wind that has delivered the Swift to me at this moment when I need to bring cannons from Kingston."
"I don't care how fine a ship she is," the manager said skeptically, "you will never get her as far up the Thames as Kingston."
"Nay, not if the river is summer shallow, but it does mean that I can take the crew with me. They are dangerous men, everyone of them. Exactly the kind of men you would choose to protect a shipment of cannons when the devil prince and his flying vultures are ranging along the banks of the Thames."
* * * * *
Strictly speaking Anso, as captain of the Swift, should have stayed with the ship and not joined Daniel on the ride across London Bridge to Southwark and then west along the Kingston Road towards Kingston-upon-Thames. But then, strictly speaking, Anso should have been riding a horse seven hands taller than the one that was lumbering along under his great size. Anso was a giant of a man. Anglo-Frisians were tall fair men, and Daniel was tall, but when he walked with Anso he sometimes felt like a young lad walking with his father.
Anso had never dreamed he would ever captain a ship, never mind a ship as coveted as the Swift. He had spent all of his youth as an oarsman, which explained his massive upper torso which was topped with arms and shoulders the size of other men’s legs. Though he knew the sea and ships and how to lead men, he had never learned how to read and write and cipher. Not many of the older clansmen did, though the younger lads had been taught by Daniels second wife, Sarah, with the help of her niece Teesa and Teesa's best friend Bridget Cromwell.
Once enough of the young clansmen could cipher, then it was less important that Anso could not, which was what allowed him to become captain. After all, what port official or shipping agent would dare to openly cheat Anso knowing that eventually one of the youngsters would point it out to him. Cheating a man as large and strong as Anso could have only one outcome. One of your arms would be ripped from its shoulder socket and then stuffed down your throat.
"You should have stayed with the ship," Daniel told Anso, "but I'm glad of your company. Tell me more of what it happening in Rotterdam these days."
"Don't worry about the ship. The three I left to watch her have been to Queenhithe a dozen times this year. They'll not be preyed on by any fast talking London tricksters. Over the last few months we have supplied the London trainbands with ten thousand guns so we have friends in every trade, every shop, every workhouse, and not j
ust with the apprentices, but with their masters as well. No one will dare mess with the Swift.
As for Rotterdam, there is much news and all of it bad. Someone else with a deep purse is competing with us for buying the Dutch muskets."
"And by someone else you mean?" Daniel interrupted.
"Henrietta, Charlie's French bit." Anso meant the Queen Consort Henrietta Bourbon of England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland, the sister of the King Louis of France, and a daughter of the Medici's. Unlike most Englishmen, he would never think to mention that she was a Papist, for to a pagan like him what did it really matter which sect of the God of Abraham someone believed in. To him they were all fools for praying to a God of the Burning Desert when they lived in a kingdom of cold rain. "She's offering a tenth again what we are paying, the bitch. I don't know whether she is doing it to keep them out of our hands, or because she actually needs them. Surely she can get as many muskets as she wants from her brother in France."
Daniel lowered his voice. "If she has raised the price of guns, then the Providence Company will pay more. They must pay more. The stakes for the Reform Party are too high to be pinching pennies. So long as our Dutch contacts are willing to sell, then buy."
"To be sure, but what if they are stopped from selling to us by the Prince of Orange. Frederick's son William was just married off to Charlie's daughter Mary. Besides, the big news, the really important news is not the supply and price of guns. The big news is all about ships. Henrietta is chartering ships, a lot of ships. That can only mean one thing."
Daniel slowed his own nag to make sure he was hearing everything. "You say she is chartering ships. An invasion. Bloody hell. Does Warwick know this?"
"He must have other spies than us, so I assume so. I haven't spoken to him since I found out."
"She must be recruiting men to go with the ships? Do you know what kind of men?"
"It cost us a lot of kofe and ale in Rotterdam to find that out. Germans mostly. Again, why didn't she just ask her brother the King of France to supply men?"
"Not Dutchmen then?" Daniel asked.
"Nay, despite the royal marriage of Mary to William, the Dutch still haven't forgiven Charlie for transporting the Spaniards over to Dunkirk." Anso meant the Spanish army who had been cast ashore in Deal when the Dutch Admiral Tromp sank the Spanish Armada off the Downs. To get rid of them out of England, Charlie had provided passage ... not back to Spain, but onwards to Dunkirk.
"So Germans then," Daniel said thoughtfully. "That will be through Charlie's sister Queen Elizabeth, Rupert's mother. Her army of Bohemians and Rhinelanders fled to the Netherlands to escape the armies of the Papist Empire. But that doesn't make sense. Why would staunch protestants sign on with a papist queen like Henrietta?"
"The coin?" Anso shrugged.
"Of course, but there will be more to it than that. I trust Prince Rupert and his family even less than I trust the Stuarts. What if they mean to take the throne of England for themselves. Flippin' royals. So much skullduggery and back stabbing. I'll have to ask John Hampden about it the next time I see him. Meanwhile the last thing that our kingdom needs is more German mercenaries ranging about with the devil prince."
"Mercenaries are mercenaries. What does it matter if they are German?" Anso asked.
"Because the Germans have been living and breathing all out war for so long that they have become uncaring and vicious. Vicious to the core. They are like pirates on horseback. Anything they can't steal, they destroy. Anyone they can't rape, they kill. Anyone who is not German is a lesser being."
"You exager ...egager ... "
"Exaggerate ... yes but not by much," Daniel replied. "There is only one way for a mercenary to get rich enough to retire, and that is by looting. They are pirates on horseback. Prince Rupert's chosen men are all German pirates on horseback, but at least there aren't many of them. That will change when Henrietta's ships land. There will be shiploads of the vicious buggers."
Uve, one of the eight crewmen riding with Anso and Daniel, caught up to them and grumbled, "I'm hungry. What about stopping at the next alehouse for some food?"
Anso looked at the lad and replied., "Uve, if the ten of us were to stop at an alehouse, the keepers and their maids would run for cover. I mean, just look at us. We look like pirates on horseback."
Uve laughed for it was true. Their ship had been making good money buying up used and surplus muskets in the Netherlands and selling them to the trainbands of London. Though muskets were their main cargo, they carried other things too. Anything they could buy cheap and sell dear. Pistols, helmets, armour, swords, pikeheads, baldrics, bandoleers, and even buff coats, the stiff boiled leather coats that men preferred to metal armour when fighting in cold, wet weather. The crew had the pick of it all for their own use.
They all wore the lightweight round 'pot' helmets on top of their leather caps. They all wore buff coats with sheepskin vests underneath. Not as good at stopping musket balls and lance points as thin steel armour, but they shed water, didn't rust, and kept them warm and dry. Slung over their coat shoulders they wore two bandoleers, crossed, each of which carried a dozen sealed wooden cylinders. Each cylinder contained a pre-measured load of powder and a high quality ball. Even without seeing all their weapons, any local would know immediately that they were dangerous men.
Each man carried two small pistols in his belt and two large dragons in his saddle holsters. The pistols were loaded for killing, but the dragons were loaded with birdshot and lye and sulphur, which would serve to blind and confuse groups of men and horses. Other than the pistols, the men carried an assortment of personal weapons, but none of them were long or heavy.
None of them carried muskets or pikes or lances. Only one of them carried a sabre, and only two carried carbines, rifled carbines. Over half of them carried Dutch steitaxts. These were like a halberd or a pole axe but with the pole cut to sabre length and with a rawhide thong on the butt end to loop around your wrist. The business end of a steitaxt was a spear point, which led down to a small axe head on one side and a gently curved spike on the other. It was a vicious weapon whether wielded on foot or on horse, but unlike a sabre it also made a useful tool for other purposes like digging or chopping wood.
By chopping down a sapling and lashing the steitaxt to it, you had a pike-poleaxe to defend yourself against charging cavalryers. The small axe head could lame a horse. The curved spike could hole even the best of armour. The curve of the spike could be used like a hook to pull men off horses. These steitaxts were short enough and light enough to use the long double edged spear point almost like a broadsword. There were a lot of good reasons why the steitaxt was the hand to hand weapon of choice of these men, even by Daniel.
None of them carried any long range weapons. This was not a skirmisher mission, but a guarding mission. Besides, long range weapons tended to be clumsy and heavy, and these men wanted to stay as light and nimble as possible for eventually they would leave their horses behind in trade for a river barge. Their mission was to guard a dozen field guns from Kingston-upon-Thames down the Thames to the London docks where the Swift was berthed.
"Not pirates so much as Swedish pistoleers," Daniel corrected, but then felt foolish because the locals here abouts would have never seen a Swedish pistoleer, but all of them would have seen how pirates were depicted in the stage plays.
Uve growled again. "I don't care if the keepers and the wenches run away. They'll flee with their coin box but not their grub and grog. We can eat and drink our fill and leave them the price where ever they usually keep their coin box."
"He's got a point," Daniel told Anso quietly, but said nothing to the men. Daniel was being careful not to undermine Anso's command of the crew, for once this mission was finished it would be Anso and not Daniel who would skipper the Swift back to Lynn on the Wash. Anso turned in his saddle and yelled out that they would stop at the next alehouse for a rest.
As it turned out, they needn't have worried about what they looked like or t
hat the keepers of the alehouse would flee from them. Just a week earlier, Colonel Richard Onslow and three thousand of Southwark's bandsmen had marched this way to strengthen the garrison at Kingston, so the appearance of ten mounted and prosperous looking men did not even cause a stir at the next alehouse.
"We need ale and meat and can pay for it in coin," Anso called out to the keeper. Daniel walked over to the man and put a handful of assorted coins on the counter in front of him.
The keeper barely looked up while pointing them towards his longest table. "The ale is green, and the meat is French," he told them. He meant that the ale was but a few days old and the meat was horse. This was to be expected at any alehouse that had just been visited by a regiment. "If you want better, my cousin runs an alehouse four miles south of here."
Uve noticed Anso looking at him with a raised eyebrow so he shrugged his shoulders and told him, "It'll do," but he did not sit down. None of them sat down. They were seamen who had just been in the saddle for three hours so all of them were stretching their legs and rubbing their backsides. The daylight was dimming and their eyes were flitting from shadow to shadow to see what else, or rather, who else was under this un-walled thatched roof. The two ale wenches were so wrinkled and old that they needn't have fled from any man.
One of them clipped Uve across the back of his neck and told him, "Rude sod. Yer mother never tell you to take yer cap off inside. And don't you dare put it on the table." Uve stopped mid motion with the cap-pot hovering over the table and endured the snickers of his mates. He put it down on a bench instead.
Daniel pushed a few more coins, silver coins, towards the keeper and the keeper made a signal to the women which caused them to disappear for a few minutes off towards the small house that was behind the freestanding alehouse roof. When they returned they were carrying heavy trays, one with jugs and pots and the other with a platter of steaming sizzling meat. Both trays were set down on the table.
