“Much good this did,” Hal heard the officer in orange say. “He’s in no shape to go see the Swede like this either.”
Indeed, it was necessary to send word to Gustavus that it would not be until the next day that Hal Christianson would be able to come out to the ship.
• • •
As Hal prepared himself the next morning, he reflected that he was not much better than the day before. The blood had been washed out of his mouth and off his face, that was true. The laundress had pronounced his uniform hopeless, so he was outfitted in buckskins that at least had the virtue of being clean. His jaw still ached, however, where there was now an empty socket instead of a cracked tooth. Added to that was a hangover from the rotgut that Hastings had given him. This was not how he wanted to face Gustavus.
But there was no alternative. In a very short time, he found himself at the dock by Battery Keep. A small boat was waiting there, possibly the same one he had seen leave with Gustavus and Johanna just two days before. The water was calm as they rowed out to a massive, three-masted ship that rode at anchor. From the top of the main mast fluttered the pennant of Nya Sverige. When they got to the ship, a rope ladder was lowered from the main deck. When he had reached the top and swung his legs over onto the deck, he faced a young boy in the light blue and yellow of Nya Sverige.
“You are Hal Christianson?” The boy sounded disappointed.
“Yes.”
“Very well. Gustavus will see you in his cabin.”
That cabin was at the stern of the ship, just below the main deck. It was appointed as richly as Gustavus’ apartment in the fort, with thick carpets, a pair of ornately carved chairs, and a polished oak desk in front of glass windows that looked out on the water. Gustavus stood behind the desk. Hal thanked whatever luck he had that Johanna was nowhere in sight.
“So, we meet again, Hal Christianson. And I see your true colors, I think.” Gustavus’ hand indicated the buckskins. His tone was not welcoming. “Were you ever really Jack Slade’s hire-at-will who just happened to have a chance to ask to join my company, a man who came in from Trans-Delaware in a most unusual way?”
Taken aback, Hal stumbled over his reply. “I . . . yes, I worked for Slade, that’s all it was. And these,” he brushed the buckskins with his hand, “were all I could find that was clean. What is the problem?”
“I received a very odd report about you from Sergeant Anderson,” Gustavus said. “Should I assume that it is true?”
“Probably. I mean, I don’t know what Anderson said, but I imagine that it’s true.” Hal doubted that he needed to ask what Anderson had said. “I thought I had safe conduct here.”
A touch of a smile showed at the corners of Gustavus’ mouth. It did not reach his eyes. “You do. I have no interest in harming you. I do need to know, though, whether you have always been working for these rebels.”
“No.”
“No,” Gustavus repeated. “My men sent to exactly the right spot to open the way for the rebels . . .” His voice trailed off. “It is of no matter now. I need to make a decision about you. I need a message delivered to whoever commands these rebels and the messenger must be someone they will believe and someone I can trust. From what Anderson said, I expect that they will believe you. But, can I trust you?”
Hal spread his arms apart. “How can I answer that? All I can tell you is that I never did anything against you. I fought for you, more than once. If you don’t believe me, come with me and give them the message yourself, if it’s so important.”
Silence followed, while Gustavus stared at Hal. “I will not put myself in that position,” Gustavus said. “All safe conducts have limits. I will accept what you say; in truth, there is no one else. While I may wonder about your true master, I believe you will tell the rebels what I am about to tell you and they will listen. Am I correct?”
“I don’t have a master,” Hal said, “but, yes, if you give me a message, it will be delivered.”
“We all have a master,” Gustavus grunted. He walked around the desk and indicated a chair for Hal. When Hal sat down, Gustavus took a bottle from a cabinet and poured two cups. “Do you drink wine, Hal? This comes from vineyards on the eastern peninsula, across from Fort Christina. It is very good, especially compared to the swill they make in Nieuw Netherlands.”
Hal took the cup, even though he did not want to drink any alcohol.
Gustavus pulled up another chair, sat across from Hal and took a drink from his cup. “You are aware that I represent the government of Nya Sverige, so my message is an official one from our governor. Percy Harmsworth was once a very good general. He was also a very poor governor. There’s a lesson there, but no matter, now.” Gustavus took another drink. “Massachusetts has spies here. The information Harmsworth learned about this rebellion, the Holier-than-thous in Boston got it from their spies among Harmsworth’s people. We have spies in Massachusetts, too. Bay Colony Regulars are being readied to march into Nieuw Netherlands. They have been waiting only for the rebellion to disrupt things here. Massachusetts covets the harbor at Nieuw Amsterdam. It is the jewel of the whole coast, from Nova Scotia to Florida. They also look to break through to the west. Do you follow me?”
“Nya Sverige is a long way from here,” Hal replied. “Why do you care what Massachusetts does to the Provis?”
Gustavus sighed. “If Massachusetts gets control of the harbor, it will threaten our trade. If Massachusetts gets a clear path to the west, it will also threaten our interests there. Nya Sverige will not tolerate either one. Of course, Harmsworth didn’t know the rebels would move early, so neither did Boston.” He sighed again. “Massachusetts and Nieuw Netherlands have fought three major wars, and more minor ones, in the past two centuries. Massachusetts, the God damn Lobsters, will invade; there is no doubt.”
Hal sat back in his chair, stunned. He remembered his conversation with Fons in the woods, although it seemed like years ago. “This can’t be,” he told Gustavus. “Armies need time to prepare, to bring up supplies, to call up more forces. They can’t just march off to war on a moment’s notice.”
Gustavus shook his head. “You are a young man, Hal. Otherwise careful men will leap at a chance, throw caution to the winds, if the prize is big enough. The Lobsters will march with what they have now. They are not calling up the militia, only a few select first-response militia units—no announcements, nothing public. A sudden lunge while your defenses are disorganized. They will rush more supplies later.”
“When?” Hal asked. “When are they coming?”
“They haven’t marched yet, Hal, but they will soon, very soon.”
“So what will you do, what will Nya Sverige do?”
“If Massachusetts occupies Nieuw Amsterdam or crosses the Hudson, we will send our army and our fleet north to stop them and throw them back. What the French will do is hard to say. There will be a major war for certain. I do not think there will be much left of Nieuw Netherlands when it is over. There are some, too many perhaps, who see opportunity in this, a chance to change the balance of power for generations. I do not. It is easier to start wars than stop them and once they start no one really knows how they will end.”
Gustavus stopped, seemingly waiting for Hal to say something. The silence grew. Gustavus drained his cup.
Finally, Gustavus spoke again. “You tell your rebels what I have told you. Make certain they understand. They must stop Massachusetts. We do not care how they stop them, only that they do it. If they do not, the entire north of our continent goes up in war.”
28
A Desperate Errand
FONS TEN EYCK was standing alone on the dock when Hal returned from the King Olaf. It took only a few minutes for Hal to convey the conversation he had had with Gustavus. When he finished, ten Eyck’s face was grim.
“I need to gather the others,” ten Eyck said. “You can get some food, if you can find it, then come to Harmsworth’s old office in two hours. I want them to hear it directly from you.”
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In the event, there was no food to be found. The thought of an upcoming war drove all else out of his mind, so Hal found himself back outside what he still thought of as Harmsworth’s office in the fort well before the two hours were up. The puddle of blood outside the door had been mopped up. Remnants of clotted blood still clung to spaces where wooden planks were fit together, but one had to look closely to see them.
Inside, the office was crowded. Ten men in orange coats, all with black cloth over their sleeves, clustered around the desk with its maps. Fons ten Eyck stood there as well, dominating the others and not just by his height. Two other men in leathers stood with him. Off to the side, almost in a corner, stood Bel, arms crossed over her chest. No one stood near her, but Hal told himself that was because she had picked a corner away from the desk. All eyes turned to Hal as he walked in.
Hal licked his lips. “Massachusetts is going to invade,” he said. “They’re going to come as fast as they can, without taking the time you would expect for preparation. If they take Nieuw Amsterdam or cross the Hudson, New Sweden is going to war.”
Consternation showed on the faces around the desk. After a deep breath, Hal gave them the details of what Gustavus had said. They continued to stare at him after he finished.
“So, that is the message of Gustavus,” ten Eyck said softly into the silence.
“Message, hell,” muttered one of the men in orange. “It’s an ultimatum.”
“Peace, Vincent,” said ten Eyck. “At least in here, let us have peace.” Ten Eyck ran his hands through his hair, his face weary. He looked truly old. When had he last slept?
“Broux is right, though,” said an orange-coated man with the tabs of an officer. “It does not matter what we call it. We have to figure out how to deal with it.” He moved to the map that was spread out on the desk and stabbed a finger at it. “The regiments from the island that were based around Breuckelen have joined us here. They are our men. The units west of the Hudson are still loyal to the Provis, as best we can tell.”
“Yes, and they are here also, Colonel Droulet,” said another of the orange-coated group. “Only they are on the other side of the city wall, besieging us.”
“True, or coming to reinforce those who are,” said Droulet. “But without their artillery. There were divided loyalties even in those units, for which we should thank God, because neither the wall nor the fort will stand up to the new explosive shells.”
His finger moved to another point on the map. “The point is, we have only a weak force at Fort Donaldson to oppose the Holier-than-thous. Massachusetts knows this, or will know it, and from what the Swede says, they’re already sending the damn Lobsters across the border. The troops at Fort Donaldson may slow them down, but not much more than that.” His finger moved again. “The only force available to us to block this invasion is Eugen Verplanck’s Army of the North at Fort Orange.” He tapped the map once more.
“But Verplanck was to defeat the Provis’ Army of Northern Nassau, secure the west bank of the Hudson and then come here,” protested Broux. “We need him to defeat those Provis, otherwise we may lose Nieuw Amsterdam itself!”
The room was quiet for a few minutes as the men huddled over the map, as though the answer was written there in a code that could be deciphered by staring long enough. Shaken heads acknowledged, eventually, that the answer was not there.
“The distances are what they are,” said Droulet. “Eugen Verplanck is probably still in Fort Orange.”
“He should be within easy range of us, ready to turn on the immediate threat. But we had to move early because of your selfish, traitorous brother,” said Broux, turning on ten Eyck. “We are all at risk because of your argument with him!”
That sent hands to weapons around the table. Bel moved out of her corner. Hal was not sure what the expression on ten Eyck’s face meant. Ready to weep, rage, sit down at the desk with head in hands?
“Enough, gentlemen.” The strength in ten Eyck’s voice belied the expression on his face. “My brother did what he did and paid with his life. Heaping scorn on the dead will not solve the problems of the living. The problem is clear. If Eugen does not block the Massachusetts attack, we will have the Swedes here as well, and then it will not matter if the Provis have re-taken the city. Eugen Verplanck must be re-directed against Massachusetts.” Ten Eyck’s words echoed in the office. “We will have to hold here as best we can.”
“But the odds against success are too great.” The speaker was a youngish officer in orange who had been silent to that point.
“And what is your thought, Smit?” said Droulet.
“We need to keep to our plan. Verplanck must come here as fast as possible. With his army, we can relieve the siege and destroy the Army of Northern Nassau. Many of their men may join us anyway, especially the Dutch. Then, if Massachusetts really sends the Lobsters, which I doubt, we have no threat to the rear and will hold them off.”
“Fool!” That was Broux. “Did you not listen to what the Swede said, or are you just too soft for a desperate battle? The Lobsters are going to march as soon as they can. We cannot leave an open door for them. I agree with ten Eyck. Send Verplanck against Massachusetts and we make our stand here. If we must fall at the walls, so be it.”
Smit colored. Sweat stood out on his forehead. “Sending for Verplanck is the fool’s errand! The Swedes would rather trade with the Provis, that’s what it is. They want them back in power, and Gustavus is bluffing you into leaving this city nearly defenseless. What will you do when the Army of Northern Nassau, unopposed by Verplanck, arrives with their artillery? Enjoy a glorious death? Word is that Harmsworth escaped to join them. You know what he will do. You will make charnel houses of our homes! You will sacrifice my wife and child on the altar of your arrogance and ambition!”
“There is a time to live and a time to die, Jan,” Broux said. “We cannot afford softness of heart or head.”
“Our homes are already a battleground,” said ten Eyck, “and many have already sacrificed their lives. I have made my proposal and we have Smit’s as well. Gentlemen, what say you as a council?”
Ten Eyck called each man in turn and they cast their votes. No one else voted with Smit.
Smit glowered at the men around the table, who regarded him with looks that seemed pitying. “Very well,” he said with a voice now under control. “If we are decided that Verplanck marches against this supposed Massachusetts threat, so be it. How do we send this message to Verplanck?”
“I am the messenger.” Bel spoke as she moved to the table. Was it Hal’s imagination that two of the men stepped away as she came near? “I am the best suited to carry the message. But the chance of the message getting through is greater with two. Come with me, Hal.”
Hal’s jaw dropped. The idea was ludicrous. “We can’t just ride out of here,” he protested. Any messenger to Verplanck would go on horseback, as swiftly as a horse would carry him. He could now ride, after a fashion, but for him to make speed into unknown territory was absurd. “The Provis will have us before we clear the northern part of the city, whether we send one or two or three.”
“Which is why you will not simply ride out of here,” ten Eyck said. “We will launch a sortie against the Provi lines. It will appear to be an attempt to break through that they will beat back. You two will ride out when we attack. In the confusion, their eyes will be drawn to the fighting.” One after another, he fixed each of the other officers with a commanding stare. “It should be possible. We will attack before dawn. You had best get ready, Hal.”
It was clear that ten Eyck had concocted this scheme with Bel alone. The others were surprised, but none voiced any opposition or alternatives. Smit shook his head, took one more look at the map, and left the office.
Bel gestured for Hal to follow her and they left right after Smit. The moment the office door closed behind them, Hal wanted to shout, “Are you crazy?” He settled for a harsh whisper. “You know how bad I am on a horse. You know how
little I know the country around here. I’ll slow you down at best, maybe get us both killed. Anyway, I don’t see why you have to go. There must be somebody else.”
“No, there isn’t,” Bel said. “I am probably the most skilled in the woods and I am the best on a horse. Even if I wasn’t, it has to be me. There will be another battle here, and I confuse things. The men will not take orders from me, usually won’t listen to me, often don’t want to be around me. Never mind the reasons, a lot of it is just men being men, but I will not sit to the side. I need to be away from here.” She glanced at him, then turned for the stairs. “You are a problem, too. There are enough here who still will not trust you, who remember that you fought against us. There are too many easy ways for a man to die in a battle. Better that you leave. I can tolerate your horsemanship and, more important, you are a good fighter. Come with me.”
The only good answer was to agree.
“Meet me at the stables, then, in half an hour. Take this.” Bel handed him a revolver. “There is something I must attend to first.”
• • •
At the stables there was no sign of Bel at the appointed hour, though Belisarius was saddled and ready. Hal paced nervously. Where was she? Alone, he would have no chance of reaching Verplanck.
It was not until an hour past the set time that she came running into the stables and went straight to Belisarius.
Accidental Warrior: The Unlikely Tale of Bloody Hal Page 30
