Drecht fixed his icy eyes on Arent. ‘Most of what we’ve salvaged will keep us warm and dry, but unless we can eat nails and drink tar, we’ll still be going to sleep with empty bellies.’ He ran a pink tongue around his salty lips. ‘Nineteen musketeers survived. Twenty-two sailors and forty passengers, including yourself. We can’t feed them all, which means hard decisions need to be taken about our resources.’
He gave that a moment to sink in, staring meaningfully at them.
‘The musketeers under my command are murderers and cutpurses, but they’re skilled at surviving, capable of hunting and tracking. These are the men who will keep us alive. My control of them is not absolute, especially when the rations start running low. Sooner or later, they’re going to decide to take what they want rather than wait to be given it. The clever move is to offer it to them in return for obedience.’
Drecht flashed a look towards the women, gathering firewood at the tree edge.
‘You’re offering rape as a reward,’ growled Arent.
‘Not them as married, or promised,’ interrupted Drecht quickly. ‘That wouldn’t be Christian. Come now, see the good sense before you, Arent. Sara and you have a bond, I’ve seen it myself. She’d be spared, as would Lia. And you Isaack, take your pick.’
Arent felt sick. Old Tom had won. It had sought to draw out the very worst of everybody on the Saardam, and, here, at last, it had succeeded. It didn’t even need to bargain any more. They were dreaming up their own sins, and their own rewards.
‘What about Creesjie Jens?’ he said witheringly. ‘I suppose you’ll make the sacrifice and wed her yourself?’
‘I have a wife in Drenthe. I don’t need another,’ said Drecht distantly.
‘What do you have to say on this, Larme?’ demanded Arent.
‘Why does that matter?’ Larme stared at them balefully. ‘I’ve a handful of sailors left. Most of them are injured, and none of them are armed. It’s his musketeers we have to worry about. I’m just here to make this seem fair.’
‘But what do you think?’ demanded Arent.
‘I think it’s the vilest thing I’ve ever heard,’ he said, glaring at Drecht. ‘And I think he’s going to do it whatever we say.’
‘He’s right,’ agreed Drecht, without shame. ‘I’ve got the strength, which means I have the power. And I know it’s the right thing to do. These passengers respect you, Arent. It would go easier if I could make the announcement with you at my side.’
‘What if I say no? Where will I be standing then?’
‘As far away from my sabre as possible, if you’re wise.’
They stared at each other, finding themselves right back where they’d started on the Saardam that first morning, waiting to see who’d run who through first.
‘I want Sara and Lia,’ said Arent solemnly. ‘And Isaack has to agree to wed Creesjie, though not touch her. She can’t be left to your men.’
The former guard captain searched his face for some hint of deception, but Arent had been withstanding the attentions of Sammy for years. He saw only irate compliance.
‘On your honour?’ He held out his hand.
Arent shook it. ‘Aye.’
Drecht blew out a breath in relief, unable to conceal his pleasure. ‘I wasn’t looking forward to that conversation, Arent, but I’m glad you’ve seen reason. We need to make sure we have all the supplies secured. Once that’s done, we’ll tell our plan to the passengers. I recommend tomorrow morning, after a hard night on short rations has made clear to everybody what we face.’
‘I’ll need one more thing before that happens,’ said Arent, as they got ready to depart. ‘I want Sammy on the rescue boat.’
Larme sucked his teeth. ‘It’s a fool’s dash that,’ he said. ‘We have no navigators left worth the name. Whoever goes, they’ll have few supplies and no bearing to guide them. They’re hoping for fine weather and good fortune, neither of which we’ve had in abundance.’
‘Sammy’s injuries are severe. He’ll die here, or he’ll die out there. I would have him away from this place, with the chance of rescue.’
‘If that’s your wish, then so be it,’ said Drecht. ‘I doubt anybody will object. Larme, I’m leaving you in charge of finding a crew for the rescue boat.’
‘Oh, aye,’ he said witheringly. ‘Reckon there’ll be a clamour for a berth on a doomed vessel, do you?’
‘No, which means you should start thinking about which men you’re happy to send to their death.’ His face was grave. ‘We’re in command now, gentlemen. There aren’t any easy decisions left.’
76
Sara emerged weary from the cave, staring at her fingers with a profound sense of satisfaction.
Three weeks ago, she’d boarded the Saardam, hidden so deeply under layers of etiquette and hatred that she’d almost forgotten who she was. But somewhere between the horrors of the storm and the torments of Old Tom, she’d discovered herself again, like a dusty mirror under a shroud. Amidst all of this misery she was as happy as she could remember being. For the last several hours, she’d practised her healing without being told it was beneath her station, or an affront to her dignity. She’d kissed Arent openly. She’d been able to go where she wanted, and say what she wanted, and let Lia be as clever as she wanted to be without having to reprimand her.
None of this would be possible once they returned to Amsterdam.
Guard Captain Drecht had seized the plans to The Folly, leaving Sara without anything to trade for her freedom. Lia could probably recreate it, but it would take years of work, and she wouldn’t be given time. She was of marriageable age, and Sara’s father would immediately seek a good match.
Sara would be chaperoned to the three places she was allowed to go, while her father chose her next husband from a list of suitors she’d never even met. The thought of it made her want to walk into the sea.
‘Sara,’ whispered Arent urgently, striding down the shoal.
She turned, her smile at his presence quickly banished by the grim expression on his face.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Fetch Lia and Creesjie,’ he said. ‘I have some bad news.’
‘You never bring me any other kind,’ she chided gently. ‘Creesjie’s trying to coax the boys into napping. Whatever it is I’ll tell her later. I’d like Isabel to hear, though.’
‘Do you trust her?’
‘I do. She’s pregnant, Arent. Whatever’s happening, she should be part of it.’
He nodded and she quickly delivered Lia and Isabel. After ensuring they went unobserved, he harried them up the verge and into the treeline, out of sight. Once they were ensconced in the jungle, he explained Drecht’s plan.
‘A brothel?’ whispered Sara, in disgust.
The rain was falling hard and the musketeers were busy building shelters for the cargo and sharpening sticks for hunting, but they were also casting hungry glances at a group of women knotting fishing nets on the shoal.
‘When will he do it?’ asked Lia, wiping wet hair from her eyes. She was sodden and shivering, wearing the shawl she’d left the Saardam in. There were no more clothes to give her, forcing Sara to wrap herself around her like blanket.
‘They’re going tell everybody the plan tomorrow,’ said Arent. ‘Probably with their hands on their swords while they do it.’
Isabel placed her hand to her stomach in horror.
‘Then we all need to flee tonight,’ said Lia. ‘Can we hide in the forest?’
‘That’s the idea,’ said Arent. ‘I’m going to scout it this afternoon, and see if we can find some caves to fortify. Can you spread the word among the passengers, tell them to get ready? Drecht’s planning to hand out some jugs of wine to reward his men’s labours. Once they’re drunk, we’ll slip away.’