‘Aye, but the storm blew us beyond the wagon lines.’ He winced as he touched the wound on his arm. ‘I have no damn idea where we are and there isn’t a single ship out there. We’re alone now.’
‘Last I saw, the Leeuwarden was still afloat,’ said the governor general, staring at the empty sea. ‘If we can find her, she may be able to render assistance.’
‘The lookout hasn’t spied her,’ argued Crauwels, irritated by such unfounded hope. ‘Some of the men say they saw her capsize. Even if she survived, she’ll be as badly damaged as us and equally lost. We won’t find her, not with our luck.’
The governor general considered him. ‘I sense you have a favour to ask of me.’
‘We need The Folly.’
‘That’s more than a favour, Captain.’
‘I know its power, I tested it for you,’ he replied. ‘Without it I’ve got the stars and nothing else. We’ll end up sailing in loops searching for land, so we can take a bearing. And between you and me, we don’t have the supplies for this delay, especially now the rest of the fleet is out of sight.’
A trickle of blood ran from the governor general’s nose. Vos immediately handed him a handkerchief to wipe it with.
‘I’ll take you myself,’ said the governor general.
The three of them headed for the gunpowder store, meeting Guard Captain Drecht coming up the staircase.
‘How goes it, Guard Captain?’ asked the governor general.
‘We lost four musketeers in the storm,’ he said.
The governor general considered this as they emerged into the orlop deck, the severity of the damage bringing them to a shocked halt. Water dripped from the ceiling into puddles of blood and vomit. Cannons lay on their sides, possessions scattered across the deck, including a small boot dangling from a peg on the ceiling – like the storm had come across it during its rampage, then put it out of harm’s way.
Bedraggled sailors and passengers hacked and coughed, bringing up seawater. They were sprawled on the floor, cradling broken arms and legs as they waited to be tended by the barber-surgeon, Sara, Lia or Sammy. Arent was talking to his friends.
Crauwels had spotted the two ladies and the prisoner dart out of sight behind the sickbay’s curtain when they descended. No doubt they feared the governor general’s reaction should he discover them down here. Thankfully, he was fixated on a bone-weary cabin boy, who was laying sheets of hemp across the dead. Crauwels wondered if he’d been ordered to do so, or simply taken it upon himself. Either way, he was going to get an extra ration of ale tonight.
There was a body at the bottom of the staircase. Guard Captain Drecht stepped over it and rapped smartly on the gunpowder store.
‘You alive in there, Constable?’ he demanded.
The panel slid open, revealing the wild white eyebrows. ‘The bits I can feel, which isn’t all,’ he complained. ‘Who are you?’
The governor general stepped in front of Drecht. ‘He’s with me. Open up. We’re here to collect The Folly.’
Fear flashed across the constable’s face, but he did as he was asked, slowly withdrawing the bolt and standing aside.
‘I don’t understand,’ said Drecht. ‘How does a bloody big box help us?’
‘The Folly lets us accurately fix our position while at sea,’ explained Crauwels. ‘That thing will tell me where Batavia is and what bearing I need to go directly there.’
‘I thought it was a weapon,’ sniffed Drecht, unimpressed.
‘With The Folly, Company ships will be able to sail beyond the wagon lines without fear, exploring the unmapped ocean,’ explained Vos.
If anything the unimpressed silence only deepened.
‘Don’t you see, Guard Captain,’ continued Vos. ‘With The Folly, our fleets will be able to outmanoeuvre their enemies with ease. They’ll be able to accurately chart unmapped oceans and discover people and places nobody’s ever set eyes on. The Folly is how the Gentlemen 17 will put their hands around the world.’
The governor general gestured for his men to get on with it. ‘Vos, take one end. Drecht, take the other. We’ll need to carry it up on deck.’
Grunting, they lifted it, but they’d barely taken a step, before the governor general cried out. ‘Put it down!’
They followed his horrified gaze. Burnt on to the planks where The Folly had previously sat was the Mark of Old Tom. Drecht immediately crossed himself, while Vos cursed, taking a hurried step away.
It was a vulgar thing. The eye bulged and the tail twisted away. Under the swaying lantern, it appeared to have a life of its own. Drecht half expected it to dart out of the door.
‘Open the box,’ demanded the governor general, retrieving a large iron key from around his neck and thrusting it towards the guard captain. ‘Open it now!’
The lock was rusted by the humidity, and took a few tries before it opened, and dropped on the ground with a thud.
Drecht lifted the lid, then blew a breath through his lips.
‘There’s nothing in here,’ he said, pushing the empty box round to face the governor general. There were only three empty sections where The Folly’s three pieces would have sat.
The governor general grabbed the constable by the chin, levering his face upwards so their eyes met.
‘Where is The Folly?’ he demanded.
‘I don’t know,’ whimpered the constable.
‘Did you think we wouldn’t notice?’ he was almost shrieking. ‘What have you done with it?’
‘I don’t know, sir. Truly I don’t. I didn’t know what was inside, sir. It was just a box to me. A box.’
The governor general snarled and pushed him away, sending him sprawling on the floor. ‘Twenty lashes will jog your memory, I think.’
‘No, please, sir, mercy,’ wailed the constable, raising an imploring hand, but Drecht was already hauling him out of the gunpowder store.
Arent had been having a jolly time with Sammy, Sara and Lia before his uncle arrived.
Sara had been telling Sammy everything she’d learned about Old Tom, including Sander Kers’s belief that it could be Arent. Sammy had reacted incredulously, listing several of his friend’s most boring, and therefore most un-devilish tendencies, with relish. This had set them all to laughing.
By the time, the governor general emerged from the gunpowder store, however, they were cowering in silence, afraid of being caught. Behind him came Drecht, his hand clamped around the constable’s solitary arm.
‘Uncle, what’s happening?’ called out Arent, stepping out of the sickbay.
‘This man stole The Folly,’ the governor general replied without stopping.
‘It wasn’t me, sir; it was the demon everybody’s talking about,’ cried the constable, who was still being dragged by Drecht. ‘I saw the mark myself, it was the demon.’ He looked at Arent with desperate eyes. ‘Please help me, Lieutenant Hayes. Please.’
‘Uncle, I know this man, he’s –’
The governor general gave him a pitying stare. ‘I gave you a chance to stop Old Tom, Arent. You told me you weren’t up to the task, and I should have listened. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. Fret not, I’ll put an end to this my way.’
Arent tried to protest, but Drecht put a friendly hand on his chest, and shook his head in warning, before pushing the constable up the stairs.
As soon as they were out of sight, Arent grabbed Sammy. ‘Come on, that’s an innocent man they’re dragging away. You need to work out what happened before they put the lash to his back.’
‘I’ve already found the damn thing once,’ grumbled Sammy, as Arent pulled him towards the gunpowder store. Despite his words, his eyes already betrayed that dreadful eagerness that always overcame him before a new case. ‘How long do I have?’
‘Depends on how long it takes them to find a lash amongst all this mess.’