Aztec
Page 40
“You seem to forget. That is my job.”
“Steenhower is unreliable. He and Gerrit van Hoeck are troublemakers. You shouldn’t leave them here together, it’s not a good idea.”
“Are you questioning my orders?”
“I’m trying to save you trouble.”
“You have your orders, sergeant. Carry them out.”
“It’s not wise, Heer Undermerchant.”
“Sergeant Van Texel, you are in the employ of the Dutch East India Company and I am its most senior representative here on the island, in the absence of Commandeur Secor. Are you disobeying me?”
“I’m just trying to make you see sense, man.”
“Because if you disobey me, that would make you guilty of mutiny, and you know what Heer Zeventien thinks of muyters, don’t you? We may be far from Holland here, but Dutch law still applies.”
Christiaan and Joost were implacable. Michiel looked into their faces and knew there was nothing he could do. He stormed out.
✽ ✽ ✽
Cornelia saw Michiel striding towards her along the beach. Such a brute of a man, she wondered why she wasn't frightened of him, the way she was frightened of Steenhower and Joost van der Linde. After all, Joost was just a boy; this one was the size of a windmill with scars on his arms.
She had never seen him looking so angry. “Is something wrong, sergeant?”
“It is nothing, vrouwe. How are you feeling?”
She held out her arm. “Look, I can see the bones. Soon there will be nothing left of me.”
“Yes, we are all starving.”
She hung her head between her knees. “I know, forgive me.”
“No, it is harder for you. You are not accustomed to privation.”
“And you are?”
“It is a soldier’s lot. Also, I came from a poor family. I never expect to eat--a hot dinner always comes as a welcome surprise, even these days.”
“You have been our strength here.”
“I am just a soldier doing his job.”
“So why is it that I wish you were our commandeur?”
He stared at her, caught off balance by this declaration. “That is kind of you to say so. I am sure I do not deserve such confidence.”
“Michiel. May I call you that? I am tired and hungry and cold and afraid, so I shall speak more freely than I ought. But I trusted our former commandeur and he betrayed us. And this new commandeur scares me. I do not trust him either. If it were not for you and the Provost, I should throw myself into the ocean.”
“You must not give in to such thoughts. Besides, there is good news. The expedition to the long island has found water. Me and my men are on our way with the water barrels to bring back fresh supplies. Everything is going to be all right. You will see your husband again, I promise you.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“I shall return this evening.”
She didn't like the thought of him being gone for more than a few hours. Things had changed somehow, since Christiaan had taken over the council she was afraid in a way she couldn't quite explain. “Who's going with you?” she said.
“Some of the boys, plus a few Frenchies. Well, they need some strong backs for the work and the carpenters are all busy with the boats. We've done nothing much to help out so far.”
She stared at him. Perhaps not the handsomest man she had ever seen, not like the commandeur, you could put him in a fine coat, with a ruff and good shoes and he would still look like he had just stepped off the farm or the battlefield. Yet if she could choose a husband for herself she thought that she should want a man like this; gruff, uncomplicated, God-fearing without shouting about the Lord all the time. She could feel safe inside those arms. She had never felt safe before.
“What are you looking at, vrouwe?”
“It’s nothing. I was just wondering what it’s like...to be free.”
“You think I am free?”
“You are a man.”
“But hardly free. I am free to die at the company’s command. I am free to go wherever they send me. What kind of freedom is that?”
“But you can marry if you want. But you don’t need a wife. It is still a choice for you. You can make your way in life without one. You can go where you want, on your own.”
“You think that is freedom?”
“It is to me.”
“Then if that is freedom what can I tell you? Sometimes for a man like me freedom is very lonely. May I ask you a question then, vrouwe? What is it like to have money?
“What can I tell you? Sometimes it is very lonely. I think I should rather be a farmer’s wife if the farmer was a good man who loved me.”
“So then money and freedom are not everything?”
“It would seem not.” He turned away, hesitated, scuffing the rocks with his shoe. “I wanted to thank you.”
“Thank me?”
“You know the Englander, Merrell? He's a friend of mine. He told me you brought him your water ration. That was kind.”
“It was nothing.”
“No, doing nothing is nothing. What you did was something.”
“I hope you will be back from the long island soon. You are my only friend on this god forsaken island.”
“Cornelia,” he said, using her name for the first time, ‘even if God forsakes you, I will still find you. I promise you.”
She smiled. “Hurry back, Michiel Van Texel.”
“I will,” he said flustered, and as he walked away he stumbled on the shale. Funny. She had never seen him take a misstep before.
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About the Author
Colin Falconer has written over twenty novels, mainly historical fiction and crime. His work is enjoyed by a wide audience and has so far been translated into 23 languages. Though he still has his roots in his native London, he now lives in Australia.
To find out more about Colin Falconer, please visit his website at: http://colinfalconer.org or follow his author page on Facebook.
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