1633:The Danish Scheme (7 page)

Reuben and Saul whispered together for a moment, and looked toward Sir Thomas, who nodded agreement. Saul said, “This group is eminently satisfactory, Captain Foxe. We are on track with our plans for recruiting settlers and your recommendation for Captain James as your deputy coincides with our thoughts. March will fit our time frame.” He gave the unnamed guest a quick glance, who gave a barely perceptible nod. “Now that we have decided on our ships, we need to discuss the details to make this expedition successful.”

A loud rumble sounded from across the room. Svend started to blush. “I’m sorry, Captain. I was so busy this morning, I missed lunch.”

Sir Thomas laughed. “A young man needs his meals. Why don’t you see my cook? She usually has something to eat. The doorman will take you to the kitchen.”

Svend beat an embarrassed retreat.

After the door closed Luke shook his head in amazement, “Thank you for being so understanding. I still remember what it was like as a young sailor, hungry all the time. He’ll probably be happier there than listening to our boring discussions.”

The group settled down to examine the details of the expedition. The Abrabanels were obviously concerned about the costs for provisions Luke had included in the plan. Saul opened a small ledger book and paged down with his finger. “I see where you want to provide provisions for all settlers for a full year. Surely, you’ll have some deaths that will reduce that amount?”

Luke was appalled at Saul’s callous remark, until he realized Saul was simply trying to force him to really look at his calculation for provisions. “We probably will have some, but we will also have some births. We will also have losses due to rats and accidents. I want to make sure we don’t have any deaths from starvation. People fighting to just stay alive don’t make the best miners and builders.” Luke refused to budge and after repeatedly reminding them of the problems others had encountered with sparse provisions, they finally admitted Luke’s provision list looked right.

The mention of deaths reminded Luke about the fall storm. “We’ll have to make sure the second expedition sails on time. The research I did contained numerous hints that the western coast will be devastated by a huge storm in October. Nordstrand Island is just about wiped off the map and over fifteen thousand people will drown along the western coast.”

Sir Thomas looked aghast. “What are you saying? Don’t you mean the storm that struck in 1627?”

“No, this one will be worse than that. You mean you hadn’t heard?” All three men shook their heads emphatically no. “Well, maybe you need to mention it to the King the next time you meet with him. I’m sure he would appreciate the warning. I know that if I hadn’t been looking in all the books, I wouldn’t have noticed it. I doubt anyone else has.”

Sir Thomas looked pensive. “I’m certain he will. Not a breath of this has been whispered about in the court gossip. I’m sure this will be an unpleasant surprise, but appreciated none the less.”

Always fast with a plan, Reuben turned to Sir Thomas. “While you’re at it, see if he would be interested in encouraging the people that will be affected to emigrate. Moving to a new land would certainly be preferable to drowning. It would solve our problem of getting a large number of settlers and he might even pay us!” Sir Thomas made a note to ensure he remembered.

Reuben then questioned the amount and types of trade goods included in the inventory. He passed a list to Luke for items that might be added 
and
 eliminated. After studying the list, Luke agreed that the additions probably should have been included. He did comment, “I think the trade goods shoes may be too much. My experience is that the natives prefer their own style of footwear.” The items to be eliminated were haggled over until both men felt equally uncomfortable with the result. A hard bargaining session on military supplies brought occasional comments from Sir Thomas and Factor Bamberg, but Luke noticed that the Abrabanels seemed to be Sir Thomas’ experts. The source for the military supplies was one area that Bamberg seemed uncomfortable with, but he wouldn’t elaborate as to why. After almost two hours, the discussion started to wind down. Then, a casual question concerning mineral rights started a heated debate between the Abrabanels, Bamberg, and Sir Thomas.

Luke nudged John, who was trying desperately to stay awake, “Why don’t you see how Svend is doing? I think I can spare you for a while. Hopefully, we should be done here soon. I’ll need him to help with the items we’ll carry back to the ship.”

“Thank you, sir!”

John quietly left the room. He spotted the doorman who had greeted them, cleaning and polishing some candlesticks, walked over and asked, “The young gentleman who came with us, can you show me to him?”

“Certainly, sir. He and Mistress Roe are in the kitchen with the cook.”

The reply startled John. “Is she Sir Thomas’ daughter?”

“Heavens, no! She’s his ward. Her parents were his cousins. They died of the plague and Sir Thomas was her only living relative. She arrived on his doorstep during his last trip to England. I’m not sure he knows what to make of a young girl in his household. The cook is really who’s raising her. Sir Thomas never had any children of his own. Since his wife died last year, she’s the only close family he has left”

They squeezed through a narrow servant’s hall that was still packed with some of the recently arrived furniture. The doorman ushered him into the kitchen. “Matilda will see you back when you’re done. I have to return to my work.”

A cherubic faced, matronly figure in an apron peered out of a cloud of flour. “Come to fetch the young master? He’s been very well mannered. Mistress Roe will be disappointed that he’s leaving. She doesn’t get many visitors her age.”

The cloud of flour she’d raised billowed along as she walked through it to fetch the youngsters. A moment later, they returned. The two youngsters were holding an animated conversation in whispers. Svend clutched a small book tightly in his hands and nodded every time the small, dark-haired girl made some point.

“Agnes, this is Captain Foxe’s first officer, John Barrow. Mr. Barrow, may I present Agnes Roe, a cousin of Sir Thomas,” Svend said.

Agnes made a short curtsey and John bowed deeply. “My pleasure, ma’am. I come as a bearer of sad tidings. Svend’s duties call. We will be leaving shortly and he must return to the library.” Svend was downcast, but Agnes looked like a lost puppy. “Don’t worry; I’m sure Svend will be back soon. The meeting’s gone well and I expect the captain will send him by with messages from time to time.”

They visibly perked up. Svend quickly promised, “I’ll make sure to get your book back next week, even if the captain doesn’t have an errand for me.”

“Do you think he’ll let me visit the ship? I would dearly like to tour your ship!”

John said, “Your ship? I didn’t know Sir Thomas had sold her to you. The captain will be interested to hear this. Does this mean a raise for everyone?”

Svend blushed furiously. The hero worship in Agnes’ gaze warned John to go easy on the boy. He recognized the signs of young love. He quickly replied, “I’m sure a tour can be arranged.” With a flourish, he chivvied Svend out of the kitchen and back to the meeting.

When they arrived, John glanced through the crack in the door to see if the meeting was done. The mood in the room didn’t seem promising. Sir Thomas stood by the fireplace, talking pointedly to Saul and Reuben. “My other investors have no problem with your proposal, Saul, but Captain Foxe is not familiar with it." The anonymous visitor stiffened noticeably. John started to clear his throat to announce their return but then stopped, having sensed the tension. He motioned Svend to stay where he was.

Sir Thomas continued. “Luke, As I understand, from time to time you may have settlers or others that need to be transported on short notice or have need of the goods we may be selling. The gentlemen here will be Adolphus’ contact for those needs,” Sir Thomas said. "What do you think, Luke?”

“Before I agree, may I ask who the other member of your party is?” Luke said.

Reuben deferred to Saul. “Let us just say he is from southern Germany and is traveling with us. If anyone asks you, he was never here. Rest assured, he supports our efforts and has significant influence in certain ‘Swedish’ circles. At this time, he is only here to bring news of our negotiations to the appropriate parties,” Saul answered.

Once more, Luke was perplexed by the odd statements and then it hit. “You’re from Grantville, aren’t you?” The gentleman just smiled. “Forgive my interruption. The question was unnecessary.” Many things fell into place. It seemed that Sir Thomas had established some contacts with Grantville outside of official channels. While the Danish and Swedish governments were technically at war and might not agree to the other party’s support the proposed settlement, people with money and knowledge to help make a go of it were in support. In the long run, that might be even better. Full funding and full rations would go a long way toward a successful settlement, but support from both camps of the current belligerents might be even better. Future trading partners were an added plus. Luke thought for a moment, and then made his decision. “I agree to the proposal. As long as the passengers are not prominent Danish criminals, I should have no problems with transporting them. As for future trade, I hope we have a lot of what he wants!"

Sir Thomas noticed John and Svend waiting outside and motioned for them to enter. "I think that settles our last issue. We’ll meet again, once the miners arrive.”

The Grantville visitor added a last comment. “Don’t take too long. Things could get very interesting come spring. The war could heat up quickly once the thaw sets in.” No one seemed surprised by the comment.

* * *

Svend gathered up all the papers that Captain Foxe still retained, along with his book. He then had to find a place in the hall to keep them dry as he struggled into his coat and knit cap. A fine skifting of snow had found its way into the hall. When the door was opened, they were greeted by over six inches of fluffy, new fallen snow, with more still lightly falling. The neighborhood was quiet as a graveyard. Luckily, the snow packed down enough to keep the cobble stones from becoming dangerous underfoot. After a few minutes of walking, John broke the silence and spoke of his visit to the kitchen. When he mentioned that Agnes had loaned Svend a book, Luke inquired about the title.

“It’s a copy of a book from Grantville that Sir Thomas bought for her, 
Peter Pan
 . It describes a magical land, pirates, and the adventures of a group of lost boys. I promised Agnes to return it next week.”

“Make sure you keep that promise! You’re likely to be going there on business frequently and you don’t want to ruin your reputation. The young lady has trusted you with an important item. When I spoke with your mother the other day about your assistance, she spoke highly of your trustworthiness.” He paused a moment, considering his next words, “We also spoke of your future. I need a good assistant who can be counted on. The skills your father taught you on navigation may come in very handy when we start exploring the new land. Would you be interested in the job? Think it over carefully because you would be gone for several years.”

Svend’s smile grew from ear to ear. “Mother and I already discussed this and I’ve thought and dreamed about it a lot. I don’t need any extra time, the answer is yes!”

“Good, I’ll sign you on as a member of the expedition, as Captain’s Clerk, after breakfast tomorrow.

* * *

After a short, leisurely stroll along the docks the next morning, to help settle breakfast, Luke spoke with Mette for over an hour. He wanted her opinions on the various merchants he would be doing business with over the next few months; securing supplies he needed for the expedition. Her familiarity with most of the merchants in the harbor area was immensely valuable. Unlike Bamberg, she also had some pointed comments on the trustworthiness of some. Luke pointedly ignored Svend’s squirming figure outside the kitchen door during the discussion, but finally broke down.

“Mette, I think your son has something to say. He’s been very good for not interrupting, but I think I better let him have his say before he explodes from trying to hold it in.”

With a look of mild concern on her face, Mette turned to Svend. “Is there something I need to know?”

“At the meeting yesterday, the departure date for the expedition was set. They plan to leave in March.”

Luke was surprised by Mette’s reaction to Svend’s announcement. She turned toward him with a sad look, not the response that he had expected. For some reason, his heart seemed to flutter.

Oblivious to the byplay, Svend continued. “The captain has asked me to join the expedition as his clerk, with your approval. He says we will probably be gone for a couple of years.”

Mette smiled. “Of course you have my permission. You’ve always been your father’s son. I knew someday you would leave, I just hoped you wouldn’t go so far away.” She reached for Luke’s hand. “I trust you to take good care of my oldest.”

Luke realized Mette had left a lot unsaid. He felt twenty years younger. “Svend has a very bright future. We will need someone who can learn navigating overland and can keep a logbook. His father taught him well. I‘ll make sure that he stays out of trouble.” He looked at Svend. “We have a lot to get done. Be ready to leave for the ship in ten minutes.”

Luke's heart felt like a ship rising to the top of a rogue wave as he whispered to Mette as Svend was leaving. “We’ll talk some more when we have some privacy and time.” Her warm smile sent Luke off with a spring in his step.

Early December 1633—West Bank of the North River
 

"Heave! Heave!" Each explosive pull inched the 
Rotterdam
 up the extended slipway of the dry dock. Dockworkers slathered on grease with huge straw brushes to ease the ship further into the berth. The temporary expansion of the dry dock’s slipway to accommodate the 
fregätten
 had taken de Vries almost a month to complete, instead of his original estimate of two weeks.