The face of poor Edward Coil flitted through his thoughts, followed by the usual shame.
‘I can’t free him, Arent.’ There was a strange expression on the governor general’s face. ‘I won’t free him. I’d rather let this ship sink and know he drowned in that cell.’ Draining his mug, he thumped it back on to the table. ‘If Old Tom’s on this boat, then you’re the best person to hunt it down. The safety of the Saardam is in your hands.’
14
Arent stared at his uncle, feeling queasy. He’d not truly reckoned with the idea that this task would fall to him – alone. He’d been convinced that his uncle’s affection for him would sway the matter, but it was the same affection that now doomed them.
Jan Haan’s faith in him was absolute and it always had been. As a boy, he’d taught him swordplay by pitting him against full-grown men. First one, then two, then three and four, until servants would stop in their duties to watch him practise.
In his teenage years, when the clinking of the abacus replaced the clanking of swords, Jan had convinced Casper to send Arent to negotiate contracts with merchants so cunning they would have had the hands off Arent’s arms if he hadn’t been careful.
Emboldened by those distant successes, his uncle now courted failure, because there could be nobody less capable of protecting the Saardam than Arent.
‘If I’m to do as you ask, I’ll require Sammy’s counsel,’ he said desperately.
‘Talk to him through the door.’
‘Can we not move him to a cabin, at very least?’ pleaded Arent, hating how weak he sounded. ‘Does he not deserve that for the service –’
‘My family is in those cabins,’ said the governor general tightly, on the verge of insult.
‘If we don’t give him air and exercise, disease will ravage him,’ said Arent, changing the point of attack. ‘He’ll be dead long before we reach Amsterdam.’
‘No more than he deserves.’
Arent gritted his teeth, his temper rising at his uncle’s stubbornness. ‘Will the Gentlemen 17 not object?’ he demanded. ‘Will they not want to hear the accusations first-hand and render their judgement?’
The governor general’s certainty wavered.
‘If I’m not allowed to free him, then at least allow me to exercise him,’ said Arent, sensing a crack in his uncle’s fortitude. ‘Even the passengers on the orlop deck walk the deck twice a day. He could join them.’
‘No, I’ll not have his taint spreading any further than it already has.’
‘Uncle –’
‘Midnight,’ he countered. ‘You may walk him at midnight.’ Before Arent could press, he swept on sternly. ‘Don’t test my patience any further; I’ve already given more ground than I expected to, and it’s only because you’re the one asking.’
‘Then I take it gratefully.’
The governor general slapped the back of his hand into his other palm, obviously annoyed at himself. ‘Will you breakfast with me tomorrow?’
‘Are you not attending the captain’s table tonight?’
‘I prefer to be asleep before dusk and awake before dawn. By the time the captain hosts the simpering idiots and bellicose fools sailing aboard this ship, I will be abed.’
‘Breakfast it is,’ agreed Arent. ‘Though I’d appreciate it if we could keep my family name secret.’
‘You walk around in rags and yet it’s your name that shames you?’
‘It isn’t shame, Uncle,’ disagreed Arent. ‘That name runs ahead of me. It straightens crooked paths, and it’s the crooked paths I wish to walk.’
The governor general examined him admiringly. ‘You were a strange boy and you’ve grown into a stranger man, but a unique one, I think.’ He blew out a breath. ‘Have it your way, your true name will not pass my lips. As your past should not pass yours. Does Pipps know about your scar and your father’s disappearance?’
‘No. Grandfather made me keep what happened in those woods a secret, and the lesson stuck. I don’t speak about it. I rarely even think about it.’
‘Good. Keep it that way, even from Creesjie Jens when you meet her. She’s a fine woman, but still a woman. She’d believe the worst.’ He rapped the desk with his finger. ‘Now, as much as it pains me, I have duties to attend.’ He opened the door, revealing Cornelius Vos and Guard Captain Drecht talking on the other side.
‘Vos, escort my nephew to Creesjie Jens. Tell her that despite appearances he’s a fine fellow, and he comes under my instruction.’
‘I’d like to start with the gunpowder store first,’ countered Arent. ‘We need to know how this leper’s master intends to attack us.’
‘Very well,’ he agreed. ‘Take my nephew down to the gunpowder store and see the constable answers his questions.’ He leant close, whispering into the chamberlain’s ear, ‘And then send Creesjie Jens to me.’
‘Thank you, Uncle,’ said Arent, inclining his head respectfully.
Jan Haan held out his arms, drawing him into an embrace. ‘Don’t trust Pipps,’ he whispered. ‘He’s not the man you think he is.’
Cornelius Vos led Arent out of the great cabin and back through the helm into the compartment under the half deck. Every stride was perfectly equal, his arms held close to his sides, as if he were wary of taking up more space than he had to.
‘I’ll confess I thought I knew every root and branch of my master’s genealogy, back to its ancestry.’ Vos spoke slowly, blowing the dust off each word before it passed his lips. ‘I apologise for not recognising you as family immediately.’
He sounded genuinely regretful, thought Arent. His grandfather’s older servants had been the same way. The family was their life and being in service was their pride. His grandfather could have put collars around their necks and they would have polished them to a shine.
‘I’m not related to the Haans; the governor general calls me nephew as a mark of affection,’ explained Arent. ‘His lands are next to my grandfather’s in Frisia. They’re great friends and raised me between them.’
‘Then who are your people?’
‘That’s a matter I prefer not to speak on,’ said Arent, making sure nobody was listening. ‘And I’d take it as a kindness if you didn’t mention my connection to the governor general to anybody else.’
‘Of course,’ said Vos frostily. ‘I would not have this position if I struggled for discretion.’
Arent smiled at Vos’s disgruntlement. Clearly, it vexed him that anybody should wish to distance themselves from the privilege of the governor general’s friendship.
‘Tell me of yourself, Vos,’ he said. ‘How did you come to be in service to my uncle?’
‘He ruined me,’ said Vos, without ire. ‘I was a merchant once, but my company came into competition with the governor general. He spread scurrilous rumours about me to my customers, putting my business to the sword, then offered me a job as his chamberlain.’
He spoke in the fond tones of somebody recounting their Christmas feast.
‘And you accepted?’ said Arent, aghast.
‘Of course,’ said Vos, frowning at Arent’s confusion. ‘It was a great honour. If it hadn’t been him, it would have been somebody else. I had no talent for business, but your uncle recognised my talent for figures. I’m exactly where I belong, and I thank God for His wisdom each night.’
Arent studied his bland face for some suggestion of wounded pride or repressed resentment, but there was nothing. He seemed grateful to have been crushed and added to his uncle’s collection.
Vos took a small lemon from his pocket and dug his sharp fingers into the peel, spraying zest into the air. The mercenary watched him a moment, the boat rocking beneath them.