On the banks of the estuary were a dozen dinghies. All of them had been dragged above the high water mark and flipped upside down on the banks. Two old fishermen were sitting on one of them waiting for the siege battle to begin. They would have been paid a few coppers to watch the barge, so that the crew of the barge could go ashore. Old or not, coppers or not, the tiny silver coin that Daniel offered to each of them, had them up and off the dinghy and flipping it and pushing it on rollers down to the water's edge.
One of them was to earn his silver by rowing Daniel out to the closest of the navy ships, while the other was to watch the horse, as he continued to watch the barge. If Daniel didn't return, the horse was to be returned to her owner. Maddeningly, once the dinghy was in the water, neither of the old fishers wanted to take responsibility for the horse.
"Can't ride, never learned,” one said.
"I get seasick on horses,” said the other, a man who had worked tiny coastal fishing boats for most of his life. Daniel handed him the reins and told him that he could always walk to town leading the horse, and then he stepped into the dinghy. The other man was well skilled with the oars, but his old back lacked the strength to hurry him to the navy ships, so Daniel took up the oars himself and put his back and shoulders into them. It felt good to be in a boat again, on the sea again, rowing again. There was something so immediately satisfying about rowing.
"Dat first ship is droppin' da hook offa Birdham Pool,” the old fisher told him as he adjusted the tiller. That there was a tiller rudder meant that a crude sail could be rigged to this boat, or at least rigged during the summer months. In the winter the sail rig would be stowed ashore and the fisher would keep closer to home and trust in his oars.
"How far is Birdham?” Daniel asked. He had discovered the natural glide speed of the dinghy and in order to save his strength he had slowed his pulling to a pace that would keep it gliding. Forcing the dinghy faster than the glide speed took a lot of energy for very little increase in speed.
"Mile'n'alf. She's a big'un so she'll be needin' deeper water and a wider swing on the hook. I count three hands of gun ports on this side."
Daniel lifted his oars and turned his shoulders and neck to see. What he saw confirmed his best hope. She was a fast looking ship, almost like a Dutch style frigate, and the timbers still had a new look to them. Best of all she was flying the admiral's standard, despite being named the "Henrietta Maria” after Charlie's queen. Admiral Robert Rich, the Earl of Warwick, had answered his message to London by coming here himself. This knowledge renewed his impatience to reach the ship, so he became impatient with the oars and the slow glide speed of the dinghy.
A voice called out from the ship. "Clear off. Ye can claim your crab pots another time.” Daniel kept rowing. "Clear off I say. We're not interested in whatever yer sellin'"
Daniel shipped his oars and allowed the dinghy to glide the rest of the way to the ship. He yelled up, "Drop a ladder mate, I've a message for the admiral!"
"Sorry sir,” the crewman called down. "I wasn't to know there was a gentleman at the oars. May I take your name to the captain."
"Captain Vanderus of the ship Swift Daniel,” he called back but had to duck because a rope ladder was unfurling and coming down towards his head. He latched onto it with one arm and then stepped onto it and tried to make climbing it look effortless to the audience of crew members watching him from above. What a grunt. As soon as he was on deck he saluted the bridge where the captain was standing. He didn't know the man, but since this was a new ship, he would be one of the admiral's chosen men. "Permission to come aboard, sir, with an urgent message for the admiral."
"From whom?” the captain called back to the boarder who looked more like a pirate than a messenger.
"Why, from myself, sir. I am the admiral's officer attached to Colonel Waller's staff."
The captain tilted his head to look again at his face, but then he set his eyes on the pistols this man carried. Fine pistols, expensive pistols. This would be the Dutch gun runner who worked for the admiral. "Welcome aboard Captain Vanderus. Lennon, show the captain to the admirals quarters."
"Sir, if I may suggest,” Daniel told the captain. "The admiral will be needing a shore party immediately, perhaps forty armed men to row him the mile and a half to the Chichester end of the Estuary. The city is surrendering as we speak."
"I'll take it under advisement. Thankyou."
Daniel was led to an aft cabin, and as his guide knocked on the low door, he could hear orders being given behind him. A shore party was being roused. Inside the cabin, the Earl of Warwick was being fitted into a uniform jacket worthy of an admiral. A jacket that had far to many decorations to be useful, and the decorations meant that he could not wear body armour with it.
"Danny, I got your message and decided to come myself,” Warwick said instead of a polite greeting. "What is this all about?"
"Send them away,” Daniel said nodding to the valet and two midshipmen who were hovering around the earl. A nod to the men had them crowding the small door to leave the cabin. Once the door was shut behind them he said softly, "I don't trust Waller, or to be more accurate, I don't trust the officers who Waller trusts."
"Whom,” Warwick corrected his English. "Yes, your message was uniquely blunt on the subject. On the face of it I agree with you. To let the rank and file of your prisoners walk home is one thing, but to give the officers their freedom, or allow them to escape ... well, I agree that such happenings are highly suspicious."
"I fear he is about to do the same again, but this time it will be a monumental blunder which will cost you and your reformers dearly. To understand it you must realize that of the king's army within the city, almost a quarter of them are officers. This includes officers who have previously been defeated and released by us, and those who have escaped from us, and those that have run away in front of us. Every royalist officer near to Sussex has rallied to Chichester to join Edward Ford, the king's Sheriff here. As an example, Waller has already captured and released the sheriff once before. Officers aside, there are some cavalryer gentlemen of good families, and some Scottish mercenaries, but most of the rank and file have deserted them. The walls are kept by the Scottish mercenaries, three to four hundred of them, and they look dangerous to a man."
"So if he allows this garrison their freedom ....” Warwick began a thought.
Daniel finished the thought, "We will meet the officers and cavalry yet again in the next battle, and meanwhile the Scots will thieve and beat and rape their way across England until they find a new paymaster. Hurry now, the city is surrendering as we speak."
Warwick crossed to the cabin door, opened it, and yelled out. "I want a double shore party, heavily armed, on the double!” He turned back to Daniel and told him, "It will take a few minutes for them to prepare and lower the away boats. Meanwhile tell me more."
"Well that is the most of it. The most important thing anyway. Otherwise I cannot fault Waller in his command of his army except that his stinginess with owed pay has cost him most of his infantry. Certainly his leniency to prisoners has saved many lives on both sides, for his reputation for fair dealing has meant that royalists are not afraid to surrender to him. He is straightforward and certainly not treacherous, but the same can NOT be said of many of the officers who answer to him, especially not to those of titled families."
"So you do not accuse Waller himself?"
Daniel thought before he replied. "He is being careful not to insult or threaten the king, but that may be due to orders from General Essex. That said, so far he has been true to your good ol' cause.” Perhaps he should have said more about his misgivings, but he had no proof.
"I am relieved to hear that, for while you have been riding with him, London's scandal sheets have been reporting his victories. They have made him into a household name; a larger than life hero. They are calling him William the Conqueror. So long as he is so popular with the London mob, he is untouchable.” He pushed some sheets of cheap newsprint across the table to Daniel. "I brought these samples to show to Waller."
Daniel scanned the pages and then pushed them back to Warwick, who rolled them up together and stuck them inside his tailored green jacket. In his brief scan, he hadn't seen even one word about any of the men who had actually done all the work and taken all the risks. The newssheets glorified Waller’s campaign, and they named the officers, but not the soldiers or their sergeants, and certainly not Burt Miner who had sealed the fate of castle after castle for Waller and his army.
The ship's captain himself knocked on the door. "The away boats are ready for you, sir."
"That was much quicker than I expected,” Warwick replied as he pushed past his captain. "Well done. Well done indeed."
The captain nodded his thanks to Daniel as they followed Warwick to the gunnels to climb down into the longboats. At least forty marines were waiting for him with oars at the ready. The trip to Fishbourne, which had seemed to take an eternity for Daniel while rowing the dinghy, took no time at all in the longboats with ten pairs of oars apiece. Once ashore, Warwick mounted the waiting horse, and Daniel led the way towards the north gate where the final acceptance of the surrender would be taking place. Behind them in the estuary, the two other navy ships were now maneuvering to drop their hooks. They were smaller, fatter, multipurpose ships leased from merchants. They too would be sending boats and marines to shore.
To reach the north gate, they had to pass near the west gate and follow the wall past the brick portion. There were still companies of men waiting impatiently for instructions. Their commanding officers were still gone, attending Waller at the surrender. The first brigade that Warwick and his marines reached were the young gentlemen cavalryers of Lieutenant-Colonel Roberts' command. When Daniel introduced Warwick to them as Admiral Rich, they bowed, actually bowed, rather than saluted.
The cavalryer officers made it clear that if the brick wall was not to be blown, then they wanted orders to redeploy to one of the gates that would be opened once the surrender was complete. Although they didn't speak the words, their reasoning was transparent. If there was any plundering, looting, and humping to be done, they wanted their fair share of it. Warwick told them curtly, "You will hold this position and not move from it until you are ordered to do so by your colonel. Is that clear?"
The next brigade of men they met were the rag tag local infantry who had volunteered to be first through the breech. Daniel's own company of hardened veterans and useful tradesmen were sitting to one side of them. These men did not bow to Warwick, but most politely touched the brims of their hoods. It was Jack who spoke for them.
"The only reason these men volunteered to be first through the breach is because they wanted to be first to reach their homes and families, to protect them. Now they want permission to be the first through the surrendered gate, and for the same reason."
It took Warwick a few moments to gather his thought, because the very sight of the man who was speaking to him was enough to make him want to look at the ground to hide an involuntary shudder, so disfigured was he. Eventually Warwick looked up and over to the bricked in gate and then at the Scots up on the battlement beside it, and then at the church bell at the base of the bricks. Daniel had already explained to him about the Scots, the curtain wall, and the petards. "Danny, be those your French Farts?” At a nod of confirmation he continued. "You men would have been cut to pieces by them Scots. You wouldn't have survived to reach your families."
One of the local men, a shop keeper by the look of him, spoke out, "Begging your pardon your worship, but we would have survived. We had an agreement with the Scots on the wall. They were to let us through the breech so long as we did not stay near the wall and join in the fight."
"The Scots agreed to that? And you trusted them?” Warwick replied in wonder.
"Why not? When we were prisoners they were our gaolers, and so we knew them. They may be foreign mercenaries and a tough lot, but they were raised in the Knoxian way of good God fearing families. More than once in the month they have been here, they have stopped the king's gentlemen from ravishing our women. Besides, if we raced off to protect our homes, then they would not have been so outnumbered while defending the breach."
Warwick glanced at Daniel and said, "I begin to see what you mean, Danny. Nothing is quite what it seems, and no allegiances are quite as fixed as they should be. Ask your own men to fall in behind my marines while I speak more to these townfolk.” Daniel's men were listening and it took no more than a nod to have them muster in behind the marines.
Warwick dismounted and walked amongst the townfolk. "It seems that you have a higher allegiance than to Colonel Waller or Parliament's cause. So be it. I don't blame you one bit, and I will not order you to keep your position here until the Colonel orders you different. May I suggest, however, that if you are going to move your company over towards the north gate, that you do so quietly, and by the handful at a time so that the cavalry over yonder do not take notice, or take offence. I have just ordered them to keep their position.” His words were met by smiles all around, and a few quite smart salutes.
As Warwick re-mounted and rode away from the townsfolk, the midshipmen had to quicken their pace to keep up with him. He told the junior officers quietly, "A lesson in command, lads. When your men are going to do something no matter what you say, then command them to do it no matter how much it irks you. By doing so you stand some chance of keeping your command. Order them otherwise at your own peril.” They were sage words from a man who had lived all of his life in command. In command of wealth, estates, companies, ships, colonies, and now as the Lord Admiral of the summer fleet of the kingdom.
They eventually found Colonel Waller and the king's Sheriff Ford and assorted senior officers in the closest large building to the north gate, or rather the closest building which still had its roof ... the King's Head Inn. The sheriff had surrendered without terms, but that did not mean that there was nothing to discuss and agree upon. There was the entire process of an orderly surrender, the laying down of arms, the handing over of treasuries and armouries, the guarantees of safety, the standing down of guards, and of course, the disposition of the horses.
The two commanders were meeting in the largest of the upstairs rooms, the one with windows facing the great town gate. Waller's lifeguard were stopping anyone from climbing the stairs. When Warwick first walked into the Inn, he was recognized as the Earl of Warwick and was welcomed by the lesser officers who were milling about on the ground floor. The moment that Waller learned of his arrival, he was ushered upstairs. Daniel was too lowly a captain to remain on the ground floor with the senior officers, never mind accompany Warwick upstairs. That he was not immediately asked to leave the Inn was likely due to his passing around the London scandal sheets which had proclaimed Waller the new William the Conqueror.
The news sheets allowed Daniel to move through the crowd of officers and intercept Warwick just as he was stepping up the first stair. He grabbed him by the arm and whispered, "So when will you tell them that the captured officers will be taken by ship to London?"
Warwick shushed him quickly, before replying in a normal voice. "I am an observer here, nothing more. This is Colonel Waller’s victory and he is well capable of arranging for an orderly transfer of power.” Waller’s officers around him all cheered, while Daniel shook his head at the use of the word orderly. When they had taken Winchester, Waller had allowed the plundering of the churches and the cathedral as a way of punishing the bishop, however that plundering had then spread to the shops and the large houses. This was completely against Waller's wishes, of course, but once underway it took him a long time, a lot of houses, before it was halted. Chichester was another city with a wealthy bishop who needed punishing.
With Warwick upstairs, and once the good humour caused by the scandal sheets had become stale, the other officers began to shun Daniel. Not that he cared for their company anyway. He was hungry so he helped himself to some of the fine food that had been put on for the officers, but the stares from the others quickened his munching. They were making it quite obvious that he had no right to be here and he should leave. To them he was an upstart field-promoted officer and not of noble stock, nor even a gentleman. He grabbed up the last of the pork crackling and went back outside.
Outside the inn there were men milling about. A lot of men, and the crowd thickened as he looked towards the north gate of the city. At the gate there was a crush of men that looked very much like a mob, a mob about to lose their tempers. Daniel climbed up onto a cart so he could have a better view over the heads of the men crowding the road. It was obvious what was happening. Everyone wanted to be the first through the gates, in order to be the first to the spoils. Just outside the gate, shoving matches were flaring up between Waller's men and the local men of Chichester. Ragged men who had homes and families inside the walls, were shoving their way forward through the troopers who wanted to be first to the spoils.
He heard voices above him and he looked up to an open second story window. Waller and Warwick were staring out of the window, while Waller was explaining something and pointing towards the West and North gates. He was likely explaining his strategy that caused the surrender, and better still, had caused a surrender with such a small butchers bill. Daniel called up to them, "Colonel, do you want me to break up those shoving matches at the North Gate and open up the road to traffic again?"
Waller looked down at him, and then along towards the gate, and then down again before he replied, "A good plan, and it must be done soon before we have a street brawl on our hands. I fear that breaking them apart will be easier said than done. We may trigger the very brawl we fear."
"The marines are neutral in all of this,” Daniel called up, "so they have the best chance of opening the road.” Almost as an after thought he called to Warwick, "If that is acceptable to you, your grace?"
Warwick and Waller discussed it quickly and then Warwick called down to his marine lieutenant to place himself and his men at Captain Vanderus's disposal. The lieutenant hot stepped it to join Daniel on the cart so he could see for himself the extent of the problem. Although he saluted Warwick, he hissed his displeasure at Daniel. "You must be jesting. They'll simply stop shoving each other for the few moments it will take them to beat us into the dirt."
"We can but try. Call your men over and have them surround this cart. With my men in the lead and your men alongside and behind, we may be able to use this cart to separate companies of men and open the road. We'll decide what to do at the gate if we get that far.” Together they organized their men, and the cart, and then they stood on the cart and yelled out in all directions as the carter got his mare moving slowly but steadily along the road towards the North Gate.
"Clear the way,” Jack and his men were calling out in front of them, and the crush of men were doing just that. Not just because of the bulk of the horse and cart, but because Jack and his men did not look like the sort of men you would pick an argument with for no good reason. Not and keep your face.
"The colonel wants the road kept clear with the infantry on the west verge and the horse on the east,” the marine lieutenant was calling out. The young officer looked splendid in his dress uniform, and very official. Daniel stood beside him gesturing with the carter's old blunderbuss, just so everyone would be very clear about how any argument would be answered.
The marines on each side of the cart were politely but firmly widening the wake of the cart and telling the men on both sides, "Now don't you be fillin' in the road as soon as the cart is passed. Yer colonel wants the road kept clear.” Meanwhile the marines to the rear were purposefully walking slowly and keeping their eyes peeled for anyone trying to rush in after the cart. Those that did were met with less politeness; firm actions rather than firm words.
When they were almost to the gate, the mob became so thick that the crush was made worse by the horse and cart. Men began shoving in every direction and some men were falling down and were in danger of being trampled. With some of the marines pushing backwards on each side of the horses head, they backed horse and cart out of the crush to give more space so that men could regain their feet. They kept backing until they had space enough to turn the cart.
Once it was turned, Daniel asked the lieutenant to keep the cart and his marines moving from gate to inn and back again to keep the cavalry and the infantry separated and the road clear. The lieutenant agreed with the plan, so Daniel leaped down off the cart and joined Jack and the lads in the fray of the crush. One by one they worked at pushing men away from the edges of the crush, and told those men to push the crowd of onlookers further back. Eventually everyone in the centre of the crush had elbow room and everyone was on their feet.
There was still a crush right at the gate, and the men there were already pushing and shoving and throwing the occasional sneaky punch to the stomach or kick to the shins. Their tempers were already hot and they would be quick to fight back at any hands that tried to interfere. Daniel looked around and up and down the situation and then asked Jack to pull his own men back, and work at keeping an open space between this final crush and the circle of onlookers. Above the gate the Scottish guards seemed to be egging the fighters on, and laying wagers. He stared hard at the Scots and searched the faces until he spotted the man who was likely their sergeant, or at least the toughest bastard of the lot.
"Oye!” he yelled up to the sergeant. "What nasties have you got up there to ward off attackers? Anything as simple as hot water? If you have, then you have my permission to douse this lot in front of the gate. Douse 'em good and proper."
"Acch, I fear I can offer up only half heated oil or the ice water of the fire buckets!” the sergeant yelled down in reasonably clear English. "Which do yee choose?” The man gave a hoot of laughter at such fun. He and Daniel continued to exchange ideas and jests in purposefully loud voices.
Some of the men who were shoving, rather than punching, were beginning to pay attention to the jests coming down from the wall, and were nudging their mates to also pay attention. As the words 'hot oil' and 'boiling water' passed between them, more and more men were looking up. More and more men decided that they would rather be onlookers than fighters and backed away from the gate. In the end, all it took was two fire buckets of water to dampen the fight out of the rest of them. The water was so icy cold that men were actually screaming that it was scalding their skin.
While Jack and his men frog marched the last of the fighters over to their mates in the crowd of onlookers, the sergeant came down from his perch on the wall, and came through the small guard door in the great barred gates. In the way of Scottish soldiers he was wearing his woolen blanket wrapped about his waist and legs rather than draped over his shoulders like a cloak, as English soldiers usually did. This because the Scots all wore hooded fur capes to keep their upper body warm. This Scot was a big man, as tall as Daniel but with a girth to him, and his coarse beard made him look more Norse than Scot.
While they gripped each other's elbows in a warrior handshake, Daniel mentioned the Norse look. The man laughed a roar and told him, "We're not bloody lowlander Scots. We're western highlanders from the islands and fjords. We've got more Norse blood in us than Scot, and we're proud of it.” The highlander had left the guard door open behind him and every once in a while he pointed to a few of the townsmen who were trying to hold onto their places near the gate. Those chosen men would walk quickly to the guard door and disappear through it.
"You know those men?” Daniel asked.
"We know their families. They's locals.” the highlander replied. "Say, now I know you. Yer the bugger what put them bells up against the Deanery wall. They was filled with gunpowder, right?"
Daniel was so relieved that he hadn't been recognized as one of the men from the church tower who had been bombarding the Deanery, that he immediately admitted to the bells.
"Would it have worked?” the highlander asked. "Would it have blasted through that curtain wall?” He jerked his thumb and another four locals slipped through the guard door.
"Aye, I've seen it work before. It knocks out the underpinnings and then the weight of the upper wall collapses the rest into rubble."
"Shite, I knew it. I had my men there ready to defend any breach. They'd 'ave given you a good fight."
"The way I heard it,” Daniel replied, "you were going to let the town's men in before you defended the breach."
"And why not? Those poor folk have been troubled enough by the king's gentlemen taking whatever they want. Why not give them a chance to defend what little they have left against this next lot of,” the highlander spat onto the cobbles, "effin' gentlemen. My men are professional soldiers. We don't make war on the lassies and their bairn. Aye, we join in any thieving, as is a soldier's right, but nothing more. Our mothers and churchmen taught us better than that."
Daniel smiled and praised the man's words, though in truth, he did not believe that any of these Scots would pass up a good humping. "So will you surrender the walls?” Daniel asked.
"Not much choice now, 'ave we? Our bloody officers 'll be sellin' us out as we speak. It'll be home for the Yule feasting for them, and thin gruel and a cold gaol for us. Can't blame your lot for lockin' us up though. They'd be fools to let my company loose so far from our homes."
"Do you have a better plan?"
"Aye, the original plan,” the highlander said as more local men slipped through the door. "We were recruited by the king to go and protect the plantations in Ireland, but then we were brought here instead. Them ships in the harbour, they could take us to Ireland, or back to the highlands, or even over to Holland. I hear the Dutch are recruiting again. Holland's got the best coin and the best aquavitae, yee kin."
"If it comes to bargaining a passage, I wouldn't mention Holland if I were you,” Daniel interrupted. Sage advice for it was Queen Henrietta who was doing the recruiting in Holland. "Asking for passage to Ireland may gain you your next contract. It'd certainly get you onto those ships and away, rather than festering in a gaol for the winter months. I'm the admiral's man. If you wish it, I will put in a good word for you."
"Can ya get word to Waller too. Tell him we'll gladly had over the guard of the walls and the Bishop's palace to this lot.” He pointed to some locals waiting for their turn at the gate. "The local militia. If we Scots are allowed to surrender our posts to the local militia, I can promise you a peaceful handover."
"I will tell them,” Daniel replied, and then gripped the mans elbow again and told him. "I'll go and tell them right now."
"Thought you might.” The bushy beard hid the man's smile. "While you do that, may I ask that you leave that ugly mother and his men in place in front o' the gates. With them keeping the army at bay, I'll be able to let a lot more o' the locals through."
"Jack,” Daniel called out, "I'm leaving you here and in charge of the gate. If there is any trouble, ask the marines and the Scots to help you."
* * * * *
"The admiral says let him come up!” one of Waller's lifeguard yelled down the staircase. Daniel pushed by the burly men blocking the bottom step and climbed to the upper floor. The lifeguard motioned him over to the Warwick who had stepped away from the main discussion so he could greet him. It took a few minutes to explain everything to Warwick, and then a few minutes more to answer his questions. Warwick then told him to lean against the wall and pretend to be a shadow while he went and spoke to the negotiators.
"There has been a break through in the negotiations with the Scots,” Warwick told the group. One of the sheriff’s officers stood up and replied curtly that this was not possible for he was charged with negotiating on behalf of the Scots. Warwick ignored him and told the rest that the Scots are willing to immediately surrender the walls to the city militia. The only terms they ask is that both they and their arms be taken to my ships and be given free passage to Ireland, where they will seek work securing the Irish plantations."
The room was immediately in an uproar, so Warwick stopped speaking and backed away from the other negotiators. No one seemed to like the idea except for the fat burgher of a mayor, William Bartholomew, who was sitting outside the inner circle. Once the initial squawking died down Warwick continued with, "If you give it your thought rather than your temper, you will reach the conclusion, as I already have, that this removes most of the stumbling blocks to the orderly surrender of the city. Moreover, Ireland is in flames so these Scots would be welcomed by everyone but the Irish rebels. While the king and we have been circling each other in England, it has been left to the Scots to quell the Irish rebellion. I have been told that these very men were originally recruited by the king to go to Ireland."
Waller stood and that very act brought silence to the room. "I completely agree with sending them to Ireland, especially since the admiral's ships can take them away from here immediately. As for surrendering the walls to the city militia rather than to my army, that will cause trouble. I have already promised my men a share of the loot that the Sheriff Ford has already confiscated from the city. I still owe my me last month's wages, so they think the loot their due."
Mayor Bartholomew stood up with a purposefully loud scrape of his chair to get everyone's attention, and then he bowed to Waller and called out, "Sir, if our militia is given charge of the walls and of the security of the streets, and if they are allowed to restore the Sheriff’s loot to the rightful owners, then I can promise you that my city will pay your men their back wages, in full, and soon."
Although his officers were outraged by the offer of less than they would gain from looting, Waller was quite pleased by the offer. Unlike Winchester, Chichester had always sided with parliament, which was why Sheriff Ford had looted it in the first place. It would cause him no end of trouble with parliament if he did not return Ford's loot to the city. The mayor's offer would cancel his debts to his men, and still leave him with any treasures that the bishop had collected from the cathedral and churches. "Done, I accept your offer,” he said quickly to snuff out any debate. "Gentlemen, I fully agree with the admiral. This is the breakthrough we have been looking for in the negotiations, and the rest will now fall into place."
With a half an hour officers from both sides were assigned the task of accompanying the mayor to oversee the handover of the control of the walls and streets. Once all those men were gone to the task, Waller personally poured more wine into the pots of those who were left. Still hidden in the shadows, Daniel licked his lips. He hadn't had good wine wet his lips since Winchester, weeks ago.
Waller finished his pouring and then sat down in the chair next to Ford, and they began to discuss the surrender of the royalist officers, cavalryers, and other gentlemen in the king's service. These discussions lasted for two more pots of wine each, but eventually it was agreed and the sheriff stood, as did his officers, and they left the meeting to go and manage the surrender of his flying army.
Under the agreement they were to pack their horses with their personal possessions, but then leave the gates on foot carrying no firearms, no lances, no armour, and no loot. Only their personal blades were allowed, in most cases meaning their sabres. Their horses would be returned to them outside the gates, after the saddlebags had been thoroughly searched, and after each man had signed a personal warrant that he would ride directly to his home and make no more trouble against the folk of England and parliament in particular, for the next six months.
Throughout this, Warwick said not a word. Once the room had cleared of everyone save Waller and the two young ensigns who were being used as messengers, he walked close to Daniel and whispered, "Push them ensigns down the stairs and then stand outside and don't let anyone in. I wish to speak with William in private."
There was no need to push the ensigns, for at that moment Waller sent them downstairs for more wine and food. Daniel closed and locked the door behind them and then leaned up against the shadowy wall beside it just in case someone came and knocked.
Finally alone with his long time friend and partner, Warwick told Waller that the royalist sheriff, nobility, and officers were all to be taken by ship to London. He then handed Waller a written order from parliament's Committee of Safety confirming this.
"Blast it Rob,” Waller complained. "You could have told me this before I made all of those promises to Edward. I've known Edward Ford for half my life, and now you have caused me to lie to him. And what a lie. Being shipped to London is a far cry from being allowed to ride home."
"As he has lied to you, William, as he has lied to you. Did you really expect those officers to keep to their warrants and keep the peace for six months? Almost all of them broke similar oaths just last month, as you well know, and Edward was one of those. Why trust your own good name to their warrant, when I come to relieve you of the entire problem. In London there will be time enough and diplomats enough to negotiate with each of them separately."
Waller was not happy hearing this truth, but he had no choice but to accept it. "They will say that this was all trickery on our part so that they would be defenseless when we order them to board your ships,” he complained.
"A harmless trick to save lives, a lot of lives. And was it not trickery when you agreed so quickly to the mayor's offer, when you know full well that the bishop's palace will store wealth that far surpasses the loot that is to be returned to the Chichester merchants?"
"That was good business, not trickery,” Waller defended.
"You dare insult me with that old chestnut,” Warwick said softly. "I run businesses, remember. We are partners in businesses that span continents. Doesn't good business always come down to one side taking unfair advantage of the other? And how else would you define trickery?"
The two men were in each other's faces but Daniel kept to the shadows and did not interfere. Eventually both of the lords began to laugh. They laughed so hard that they lost their breath and had to calm themselves. Waller was the first to recover his wind and he asked, "So Rob, speaking of business, has Nicholas Crispe agreed yet to the merger of his Guinea Company with our Somers Isle Company?"
"He is stalling his decision. Nick still thinks his company will be more profitable with Charlie running the kingdom than with me, I mean, with parliament running it."
"So convince him otherwise,” Waller said, in a suddenly serious tone. "Did you tell him that he will still be free to run his African gold fields and his slave trade? All we want from him are his patents for trade with the Far East so we can compete head to head with the various East India companies."
"He doesn't trust us, but soon enough he will be glad of the merger. I predict that this will be a very expensive winter for Nick. Once I show parliament his second set of financial books, the ones he used to bargain the worth of his company with us, they are sure to go after him for taxes. Once the London mob learns that he sides with the king, all his houses in Hammersmith and Lime will be occupied by squatters. By spring he will be begging for the merger in order to hold onto his own property."
Daniel held himself perfectly still so that he could better hear the low voices. He didn't know much about how these companies were organized and run, but what these two businessmen were saying sounded more like piracy than his own idea of good business. To him, good business was when both sides were happy with the deal, not where one side profited from the misfortune of the other. He wondered at the ethics of these two men. Wondered, but did not speak his thoughts, for that may have hurt his chances of becoming the next governor of the Bermuda.
Or did he even still want to be the governor? These men were speaking of joining the Somers Isle Company that ran Bermuda with Crispe's African company. He didn't know much about the secretive Mister Crispe, but he did know that his company profiteered from slavery. They not only traded slaves to the Spanish in the Americas, but they used slaves in their African gold mines. Something else was nagging him, and he searched back through what he had just heard to find out what. It was Warwick's mis-wording. Did he really consider himself as a replacement for the king? Such ugly thoughts caused him to groan aloud.
Warwick heard the groan and turned towards him and said, "Danny, you are still here?” more to warn Waller to guard his tongue than to gain the Daniel's attention. To change the subject and the thinking away from their secret business dealings, he walked over to the windows facing the north gate and stared out and said, "The Scots are already being replaced on the walls, but we should still have a few hours of calm while the sheriff and his gentlemen pack their things."
Waller joined him in the window. Daniel left the shadows and crossed to the window to hand the colonel his looker. With the looker Waller could clearly see as far as the west gate, and he told them, "The Scots are already handing over control of the west gate. So far so good.” He raised the looker a bit and stared at the round church. It had been beaten beyond repair by the king's cannon balls. He handed the looker on to Warwick but Warwick didn't take it.
As Warwick pulled his own looker out of a pocket, he said, "Did I exaggerate, William, about how valuable Danny is to have on your side."
"You did not exaggerate, Robert,” Waller replied. "Daniel is like this looker. They both focus on something that needs doing. I soon learned to give him goals rather than orders. Thus his hands were freed to act to the situation at the moment, and he is a man of action."
"Aye, just the kind of man we need to run Bermuda,” Warwick said. He winked at Daniel and then continued. "I and some others on the board of the company want to name him as the next governor. Your vote would carry the nomination."
"And you have it,” Waller said immediately, and then turned and shook Daniel's hand in a firm grasp. The tall man was grinning like the village fool. He turned to face Warwick again and said, "Oh, wait. We dare not change governors whilst these merger talks are underway with Nick. That would make him suspicious and may sour the deal."
Daniel's smile turned into a frown, a thoughtful frown. What had Britta told him about rich and powerful men such as these? That they control people with the promise of gifts, but are slow in the actual giving. His frown deepened with the dark thought of what more these two men would expect of him. He almost expected that their next words be to ask him to assassinate Nicholas Crispe, just so they could take over the man's company.
He turned away from them so they would not see the anger and disgust in his face. His reaction was not so much from the thought of killing Crispe, for the man was a renowned slaver. It was for how these wealthy men used people for their own ends and smiled while they did so, as if it were some parlour game rather than the twisting of lives. They were like the Wyred Sisters of folklore, weaving together the fates of man. The difference was that the sisters did so for irony, while these men did so for profit.
Daniel suddenly felt very homesick for his cold, damp village in the Fens, and its warm, friendly folk.
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The Pistoleer - Invasion by Skye Smith Copyright 2013-15