Pistoleer: Roundway Down

by Smith, Skye

  "Yeh, yeh, yeh. Daniel has already told us the terms," Cleff told her. "The terms suck eggs."

  "Daniel's written English is almost as bad as yours," Sarah replied, but immediately regretted her words. Cleff had never learned to write, while Daniel's writing had improved a lot over the last three years. "He likely misunderstood some of the longer words. Rather than shouting about how upset you are by the terms, you should be trying to fathom their deeper meaning."

  "Explain them then, know it all," Cleff told her rudely. He needed to pee and it was making him irritable. He hated getting old and his ever weakening bladder was a constant reminder.

  "Yes, please do Sarah," her sister asked politely. Venka was the mayor of the village. It was not unusual for a woman to be the mayor of a traditional Frisian village, because it was the women that ran the village and the fields whenever the men were away on the ships or with the herds, - so a lot of the time.

  "Translated into simple English and grouped together more logically, I understand the terms as this," Sarah explained. "The first term is that the Providence Island Company ship called the Charles commanded by Captain William Sayle will be departing for Bermuda in early June from Bristol, and that Daniel must coordinate our rendezvous, passage, and cargo with him.

  The second term is that Captain Sayle is to be the Governor of Bermuda, but that Daniel will be the governor with full powers whenever Sayle is away from the colony.

  The third term is that Daniel must provide the Swift as an escort ship to the Charles, and that the Swift must sail well armed and lightly loaded for this duty.” The Swift was the clan's largest ship, and though not a large ship, she was rigged for speed and agility and had sailed to the Caribbean and Bermuda before.

  "Umm, now the fourth term," She took a breath. This was the one they were mis-understanding. "Bermuda is but the first stop in the mission of the Charles, for it carries ordinance and munitions needed by the Company's ships sailing under Captain William Jackson out of Tortuga. Daniel tell them about Tortuga."

  "Tortuga?" Daniel confirmed. "That is a small island off the coast of Hispaniola used by the pirates known as the Brethren of the Coast. Last year the Company's colony on Providence Island was raided and destroyed by a Spanish fleet out of Panama. The colonists who escaped fled to Tortuga. The Company ordered Captain Jackson to rescue the colonists, but he and the colonists and the Brethren have instead formed a privateer fleet. Their intent is to hunt Spanish treasure ships with a share the profits going to the Company, so long as the Company keeps them provisioned."

  Sarah smiled him a thanks then continued, "The Swift is to continue as escort to the Charles as far as Tortuga but may then return to Bermuda with or without the Charles or Captain Sayles. What you have all missed with all your bickering, is that this means that Sayles is bound for Tortuga, which leaves Daniel as the Governor of Bermuda ... in fact, if not in name."

  "It's just more word trickery," Cleff called out. "Neither will be governor cause Sayle'll be on the Charles to Tortuga, and Danny on the Swift as escort, and so neither will be in Bermuda."

  Sarah frowned at the old man like he was simple, and then smiled at the others and said "Nowhere does it say that Daniel must command the Swift, so he can stay in Bermuda and if he does ..."

  "Then I will be governor," Daniel interrupted and he was suddenly fully awake. "So Rich has kept his promise after all, but he had to be devious about it. There must have been a disagreement amongst the directors of the company about my appointment."

  "Whatever the reasoning behind it, when our clan lands in Bermuda to stake our claim to a part of Rich's estate, you will be the governor and so our claim will not be questioned. Once we have built our cottages and set our moorings, then our claim will be solid even when Sayle returns."

  "Then we have but until June," Venka said the obvious, "to decide which of us should be the first to move to Bermuda, and which supplies and animals to take, and on which ships. And all of this we must do while we are already fully busy with planting, lambing, and chartering our ships to the Eastern Association. Well it is a good thing that you are home now, Daniel, because you can take complete charge of preparing for the expedition and taking our ships through the Channel to meet up with this Captain Sayle."

  "Nay," Sarah corrected. "Daniel must go on ahead and finalize these papers and make arrangements with Captain Sayle, and he must do this soon else the Company may chose another ship and master in Daniel's place."

  Daniel's smile disappeared. "But I just got home. I was looking forward to hiding from the cares of the world for a good while. Sayle is in Bristol. You don't know how it is over in the West Country. Everything is war and armies. Every woman is dressed for mourning. Every man goes armed. You must keep one eye to your back just walking down a street."

  "Easy. You can go now, get the business done quickly, and then come back," Sarah told him.

  "It's never easy, is it?" Daniel asked with a groan and a shake of his head. Every time he found himself in the company of powerful men such as Robert Rich, they would make promises based on his doing them favours. Favours such as dangerous missions that kept him busy and at risk for months at a time.

  "It can wait a week," Venka told him, and then to the others, "So Daniel will be here a week to help plan and man our move to Bermuda, and then he will be gone for say a month, so we must use his time wisely." A loving smile filled her face. "Spread the word that he needs a bit of pampering while he is with us."

  * * * * *

  The clan's elders decided that their first plantation in Bermuda should be made up of the younger of the elders and the elder of the youngers, in other words those with the best chance of success. They had also decided that each family should be represented in Bermuda and therefore each family must decide who amongst them would be going and who staying. The clan and the village were being split in two, and it was left to Daniel to keep the split in balance so that both halves would still have the skills and energy to run a village.

  The aged and ill would stay in Wellenhay, for sea voyages were hard on the body. Those with infants and infant bellies would stay for the same reason. Skills such as smiths, carpenters, shipwrights, weavers, and healers were needed in both places, so some decisions were forced. Wellenhay had but one young healer, Teesa, Venka's youngest daughter, so she must go. It had but two men capable of being the Swift's master, Daniel and Anso, so both of them must go since Daniel must stay in Bermuda.

  Anso was away with the Swift, but Teesa was home so the next morning Daniel went to ask for her help in planning the expedition. He was walking slowly. Last night in the communal sweat lodge he had been 'pampered' by some of the younger women, so he was a bit unsteady on his legs. He knocked on Teesa's cottage door and got no answer. He was about to leave when the ancient crone, Oudje, came wobbling around from the back with the help of two canes.

  "She's gone for the day, and probably overnight," Oudje told him.

  "I came to ask if she was willing to settle in Bermuda."

  "She has always expected to," Oudje replied. "Someone in her family must. Her sister Britta will refuse for she is living in grand style in London. Her mother Venka cannot, for she must stay here and run this village. That leaves her."

  "Has she learned enough to be the healer in Bermuda?" he asked. Oudje was Teesa's mentor, and was teaching her the ways of healing and the Sight.

  "Of course not. To learn what I know, she would need to listen to my prattling for a decade," the old woman grumbled, "but that is normal for this new generation. They learn a little and then think they know it all, even though they have no experience. But what choice do we have? She will serve our new settlement well enough. At least with her the Sight comes naturally.” The old woman spat to the ground and then ground the spittle in with her foot. This was a stronger action than knocking on wood to hide such truths from any evil spirits that may have been listening.

  "Where has she gone? To Fishtoft?" Fishtoft and Freiston were Wellen
hay's two sister villages over towards Boston. Due to the lawlessness caused by the war the three villages had joined together in a mutual aid pact. Teesa would often visit the other villages to teach the women about the traditional communal ways that work so well in Wellenhay.

  "It's the big spring market in Spalding, so she and some of the women have taken The Five there."

  Daniel nodded. Teesa fancied herself a ship's master, and would use any excuse to claim an idle ship just to keep in practice. The Five was one of Wellenhay's normal ships. One of the Friesburn class of small coastal ships. They were just large enough to sail the sea, and just small enough to ply the river channels. The clan had six of them, named One through Six, but there were actually twelve in all now. The other six were shared with Fishtoft and Freiston. There was a thirteenth, but it had been given to Robert Blake and was now renamed 'The Alice' and was sailing out of Lyme in Dorset.

  Thinking of the Alice made him think of his best friend Robert Blake. He sent a prayer to the moon goddess to keep Rob safe in Lyme and far away from Colonel Waller and the battles raging along the Welsh border. Sarah needed Rob to stay alive and be a father to the son she carried.

  "You remember Spalding don't yee?" the crone asked on seeing his far away look.

  The question snapped him back to the here and now. "Of course.” To reach Spalding you crossed the Wash as if going to Boston, but instead of going up the Haven of the River Witham, you steered hard west and went up the Haven of the River Welland. The village of Spalding was built on the first dry island of any size in the marshes along the Welland. It was about a dozen miles from the sea and yet still tidal. "Damn, I wish she would have told me she was going. I could have caught a lift with her as far as Fishtoft. I need to give them notice that they are welcome to send settlers with us to Bermuda so long as they supply two ships."

  "Why two?" the crone asked.

  "Because when crossing long stretches of open water in small ships," he explained with a sigh, "it's best to lash two hulls together for stability. Since they are Bermuda rigged, they sail well enough when lashed together and the decks stay flat.” The sigh was because he had explained this to her only yesterday. It was yet more proof that Oudje's once keen memory was slipping away. Like most old women, her nose was longer than her memory. Though she could not remember what he told her just yesterday, her mind was absolutely clear about for memories long past.

  "Then why don't you lash them together permanently?"

  "Because it makes them too wide for rivers, and too clumsy for strong currents and wicked winds." He turned and made his way towards Wellenhay's ships pool to see if there were any ships making ready to head down the River Great Ouse passed Lynn and into the Wash. At the dock he was told that the Two was going to Lynn on the morrow and from there he could catch a lift to Fishtoft. He was glad it wasn't today. He was feeling much too peaceful to face the uncertainty of English towns today, especially Lynn, where the royalists would be making trouble now that Oliver had left for Cambridge.

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  The Pistoleer - Roundway Down by Skye Smith Copyright 2014-15

  Chapter 18 - Trouble in the Lincolnshire Fens in April 1643

  The royalists were indeed making trouble in Lynn. Governor Hamon Le Strange, a typical stick-up-the-arse royalist nob, had rebuilt and refortified Castle Rising and now the royalists who Cromwell had chased out of Suffolk and across Norfolk were gathering around Castle Rising like moths around a candle. Daniel listened politely while Major Sherwood told him all of this, but then refused to offer any help. His clansmen's top priority was to organize a move to Bermuda, so they had to disentangle themselves from both the rebels and the royalists, and especially from the countless minor battles between the two.

  "Send to Cambridge and get some support from Colonel Cromwell," Daniel told Sherwood.

  "That was the first thing I did," Sherwood replied. "He replied that he has other commitments elsewhere."

  Of course Oliver would say that. He was committed to John Hampden's plan for a surprise attack on the king in Oxford. Daniel wondered how much Sherwood had been told of that plan, if anything at all. He broached the subject carefully. "Committed? How so? Is General Essex finally moving the army against Oxford?"

  "Essex? The man is a fool, so I won't hold my breath."

  "Not a fool so much as a man with deeply vested interests. If Essex has not yet marched on Oxford, then I suppose that Cromwell may be thinking about blocking Queen Henrietta and the Duke of Newcastle from moving south."

  "Sort of," Sherwood answered carefully. He wondered how much Daniel knew, and how much it was safe to tell him. "Do you know who Noel Baptist is? No? He is the new Viscount of Campden over in Rutlandshire. He has raised a regiment to open the roads for the queen's march to Oxford. Colonel Cromwell is to counter Campden."

  "I'd rather he ignore Viscount Campden and go directly after the queen," Daniel replied.

  "Do you think that the viscount doesn't realize that. Why do you think he is rampaging and slaughtering and looting and raping. Colonel Cromwell has no choice but to ignore the queen and put a stop to these bloodthirsty villains, these Campdeners."

  "Er, do you have a map?" Daniel asked. "Can you show me where these Campdeners are on the rampage?"

  Sherwood unfurled a map, a bad map, an old fashioned map, but at least it showed the main towns and roads, though not to scale, and not drawn from the bird's eye view of the land. "From Rutlandshire where he raised his troops he moved immediately on Stamford, for that controls the most direct route from Oxford to Newark. Now they are moving on the other route through Peterborough, Market Deeping and Bourne. As soon as they were out of Rutlandshire they began looting. Cromwell must act, and act soon, and it will take every militia group he has gathered to Cambridge because the Campdeners have broken up into flying squads and are riding in every direction."

  Daniel ignored the towns along the main roads. They could well take care of themselves, and since they were on main roads they would be the first that Oliver would relieve. "What is that Fens village there, close to Peterborough?"

  "Crowland."

  "Ah yes, of course, with the ancient abbey. Without the monks it is hardly even a village anymore, but it controls two rivers including the Welland that runs to Market Deeping and to Stamford." Daniel moved his finger a bit further along the crude map. "So that must be Spalding. Bloody hell. That is where the Campdeners will be heading. This is market week. Folk from thirty miles around will be there with items to trade and with heavy purses. Bloody Hell. While Cromwell is trying to take back the main roads, these Campdeners will sweep down on the market, and then continue on to Boston. If they can capture Boston, then they can block the supplies bound north along the River Witham to General Fairfax."

  "How do you know all of this?" Sherwood asked in astonishment.

  "Because the Eastern Association uses my ships to move men and supplies around the Wash," Daniel replied. He stood up in a hurry. "Sorry I can't stay and help you major, but I must take this news to Boston, and quick."

  The words were most prophetic, for that evening they were repeated by Parliament's governor in Boston. "Sorry I can't help you Daniel, for if what you say is true then Boston is Viscount Campden's ultimate target, so I cannot weaken my garrison. Not with General Fairfax's army so dependant on our supplies. I will of course send a messenger to warn the clubmen of Spalding."

  "I've already done that. I sent a rider from Fishtoft as soon as my toes were out of the mud and onto dry land." In truth Daniel had sent the rider to find Teesa and The Five, and tell her to evacuate as many women and children as possible from the great market at Spalding, especially those from Wellenhay, Fishtoft and Freiston. Only then was the messenger to search out the clubmen of Spalding. "How strong are the Spalding clubmen?"

  "Lots of willing hands but few good weapons. Like many of the villages on the edge of the Fens, they stopped their young men from joining the trainbands and
kept them home to protect the villages and farms. They will send the call out to every able bodied man for miles around, but most of them will not leave their own families and cottages. Not with freebooters riding about."

  "And Crowland?"

  "There is nothing much there," the governor answered. "Not since King Henry's dissolution of the monasteries. Only a commune that some Anabaptists have formed on some of the old abbey land. They are led by two bible thumpers, the reverends Ram and Harrington. Anabaptists so I expect they are pacifists, so they will offer no resistance. Like lambs to the slaughter. I will pray for their poor womenfolk, for if they fall into Campdener hands, they are sure to be humped rotten."

  * * * * *

  Daniel returned to Fishtoft on the Haven of Boston's river. When the rider he had sent to Teesa returned, he was sitting in the newly built communal sweat lodge with the mayor of Fishtoft and his wife, and with the masters of the two ships now resting on the mud bottom of the Haven, Mick, the master of The Four, and Tom the master of The Eight. Mick was a clansman who did not look Frisian at all, whereas Tom was a Freiston man who had just married into the Wellenhay clan, in part to seal the Mutual Aid pact between the villages.

  The rider broke all of the rules of decency in his hurry to enter the sweat lodge. He made his report while standing in a pool of mud dripping from his boots, still fully clothed and with his mud splatter clothing steaming like a horse after a race. The descent folk in the sweat lodge had all grabbed up linen towels to cover their nakedness as soon as the clothed man had entered. "Beggin' yer pardon mam," he said while removing his cap and looking down rather than at the mayor's wife's ample breasts, "but this is urgent."