CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

THE CAPE COLONY

7th May 1622

Dressed in her captain’s breeches with her red scarf tied around her head, Louise Reydon-Joubert stood on the sand and looked out over the sea of pavilions and huts. Gilles Barenton, in his customary black doublet and breeches, a white stock at his neck, was at her side.

It was a bright autumn morning and the mountains were painted gold by the sun. The limitless blue sky was broken only by thin threads of white cloud like a veil of gauze.

‘It is beautiful,’ she said to Gilles, for a moment forgetting the cares on her shoulders.

To Louise’s eye, the scene looked as much like a muster for an army as anything else: people and animals everywhere, flags and pennants cracking in the wind, hawkers and traders laying out their wares, the smell of roasting meat. It might have been the Fleet Fair on the waterfront in Amsterdam were it not for the fact that there were no buildings and every face she saw was Black or brown.

Louise smiled. She was here. This was the Africa she had read about in books. Members of her crew, who had sailed around the Cape of Good Hope before, had told her the local people were called the Khoi, an ancient race who had lived on this continent for thousands of years. They waited on the shore for any passing ship – Portuguese, Spanish, English, Dutch – ready to trade: spices for iron, china and precious silks in exchange for fruit and vegetables and fresh water. Louise feared they were doomed to be disappointed when they discovered the Old Moon had nothing to trade, even more so when they learnt that the ship was going to set sail on the first tide to return to Europe.

Her spirits started to sink. She and Gilles had talked and talked, whenever they could find a private corner of the ship to do so. Though it would break her heart, they had agreed this was the only way they could ever be rid of her half-brother, Phillipe Vidal. It would mean Louise forfeiting everything she had worked for, but it was the only way they would ever be free. As important, was for her loved ones in Amsterdam to know what had happened. Her plan would ensure that Alis and Cornelia did not go to their graves in ignorance of what had befallen her. She wanted them to know how she thought of them often, and loved them always.

‘Here he comes,’ Gilles murmured in her ear. ‘As I knew he would.’

Louise turned to see her half-brother disembarking from the rowing boat onto the sand, attended by his odious servant, and her heart sank further. She had prayed that Phillipe would stay on board. He had been afflicted with some kind of ague which she hoped would have kept him confined to his cabin. It was an unwritten rule that anyone suffering from sickness remained with the ship.

‘I suppose it was too much to think that he would put the well-being of others before his own desires,’ she replied.

‘He would never do that,’ Gilles said bitterly.

Louise’s lieutenant, Tom Smith, was at the oars. He was the only member of the crew they had taken into their confidence. She knew Tom did not understand her intentions, but he would follow her orders to the letter. He had suggested an alternative way to solve the problem, but Louise could not allow him to damn his soul for her. It was one thing to kill in battle, another to take a life in cold blood.

Tom caught her eye and mouthed an apology for bringing Phillipe to shore. She gave a slight shrug, acknowledging that it was not his fault.

‘Ah, sister,’ Phillipe called out, walking towards her. ‘You should have waited for me.’

Despite having been seven months at sea, Phillipe still managed to look as if he was walking along the boulevard St-Germain in Paris: his servant kept his clothes pressed, and his cuffs and ruff were somehow passingly white. The silver cross he wore around his neck glinted in the soft sunshine. He looked every bit the Catholic nobleman and Louise hated him for it. All the same, she forced a smile in greeting.

‘Forgive me, brother, I thought you were resting.’ Over their time at sea, she had learnt to hide her true emotions from her half-brother. He, somehow, had a gift for weaselling out secrets and she did not want him on his guard. ‘I had not thought you intended to come ashore since we are here for so short a time. And since you are unwell . . .’

‘I find I am much improved,’ Phillipe replied with a thin smile that did not reach his eyes. ‘Though I am surprised that you did not think to change your attire. What will these people think?’

Gilles gave a hollow laugh. ‘I cannot imagine that the Khoi care a jot for fashion!’

Phillipe glared at him. ‘When I wish for your opinion, Monsieur Barenton, I will ask for it.’

Louise touched Gilles’ hand, warning him not to be drawn into yet another battle of wills that left him exhausted, and Phillipe exhilarated. It had been some weeks into their voyage from Gran Canaria to Cap Verde before she had accepted that her half-brother actually enjoyed sowing discord and setting everyone at one another’s throats. She had done her best to neutralise his malign presence on board, but it was like fighting air. He was manipulative and sly, and left people doubting themselves as well as their previously firm friendships. It had led to an unhappy ship.

‘Since you are here, shall we venture out?’ Louise said, hoping Gilles would take the chance to speak with Tom without being overheard. Though she had hoped their original plan would succeed, she and Gilles had discussed other eventualities should Phillipe not remain on board. Louise slipped her arm through his. ‘I would see the beads and ivory, and learn a little more of the people who live here.’

‘I do not understand, sir,’ said the lieutenant. Tom Smith was an honest fellow, and loyal, but could be dogged. ‘Can you tell me again?’

Gilles bit his tongue, then repeated Louise’s instructions as to how they intended to dupe Phillipe back on board the Old Moon without them.

‘Young Pieter will have to take on the disguise,’ he repeated patiently. ‘He is the only crew member with the colouring and stature to match.’

‘You want the boy to pretend to be the captain?’

Gilles held his gaze. ‘I know we are grasping at straws, Tom, but there is no better option. From a distance, if Vidal sees someone of similar stature standing on the deck wearing one of the captain’s red scarves, he will assume it is her. Surely you can see that?’

‘But as soon as the rowing boat gets close, Monsieur Vidal will see that it is not.’

‘Before they come alongside, Pieter will go to the captain’s cabin. He must lock the door from the inside. You must explain that Louise has been taken suddenly unwell and has given you orders to pilot the Old Moon out of the bay. Put it out that it was something that she ate on shore.’

Smith was shaking his head. ‘But everyone on board will know.’

‘The only people who matter are Vidal and his servant,’ Gilles said firmly, hoping he was right. ‘And they will be on the second of the rowing boats coming back to the ship. If we can trick them back on board, and you can weigh anchor, then the captain will be safe.’

Tom mimed slitting his throat. ‘I offered to—’

‘I know,’ Gilles interrupted. He sighed. ‘And I am grateful to you for it. But she – we – cannot allow you to take such a risk.’

‘The crew would be glad to see the back of him.’

‘Even so, it is better that you sail the Old Moon back to Amsterdam as we agreed. The captain has given her diary into your safe keeping, has she not?’

‘Yes, sir. I am to deliver it to an address on Warmoesstraat.’

For a moment, the two men stood in silence. Then Smith asked: ‘I know it’s not my place, but what are you going to do here?’ He gestured around them. ‘How will you survive?’

Gilles gave a sad smile. ‘It will not be easy, I know that. But the Khoi have lived in these lands for thousands of years, Tom. We will find our way. The captain cannot go back to Europe, you know that. The terms of her release from the court in Gran Canaria prohibit it.’

‘But you could sail on to the East,’ the lieutenant protested. ‘Find some vestiges of civilisation there.’

‘Perhaps we will.’

‘Or come back with us and settle elsewhere,’ Tom persisted. ‘Not one of us would betray her, you know that.’

‘I do.’ Gilles put his hand on Smith’s arm. ‘You are a good man, Tom, and a loyal friend. But her mind is made up to stay here. Please, help.’

The Englishman hesitated, then he nodded. ‘Of course. Whatever the captain wants, sir.’