Trade Winds (Choc Lit) (41 page)

‘I say, what’s going on?’ Graham protested. He’d been watching the exchange with a frown and finally found his tongue. ‘My good man, this lady is Swedish. She hasn’t the faintest idea what you’re on about.’

The man ignored him and continued speaking Dutch, fixing his gaze on Brice. ‘Tell me the truth, woman, or I’m going to wring his scrawny little neck.’ Before Jess had time to move, he had reached out with lightning speed and put his huge hands round Brice’s tiny neck. Jess cried out and went rigid with sheer terror. She forced her limbs to move and tried to push the man away, but he didn’t let go of the baby and she realised there was nothing she could do without hurting Brice. She’d never felt so helpless in all her life and bile rose in her throat.

‘Whoreson!’ she hissed. ‘Let go of him!’

‘For the love of God, man, what are you doing? Are you insane?’ Mr Graham came to her assistance and tried in his turn to get the man to let go of the child. But the blond man was much bigger and just pushed him out of the way with one brawny arm. Mr Graham stumbled on a huge coil of rope right behind him and fell headlong onto the deck, banging his head on the planking.

The baby started screaming, his little face turning bright red. ‘Stop it! You’re hurting him!’ Jess screeched at the man. Panic gripped her and she tried to make her petrified brain come up with some way of rescuing her child without jeopardising her own situation.

‘Not until you tell me the truth.’ His eyes bore into hers with uncompromising fire and Jess knew he meant every word. She had no option but to do as he said or Brice would die. There was no way she was going to let that happen if she could prevent it.

‘Very well,’ she admitted, ‘I understand a few words of Dutch and I heard you say something about a baby and throwing. That’s all. There’s only one baby here, so naturally I was concerned. Now let go of my son or I’m going to report you to your captain.’ She glared at him, willing him to believe her.

The man took his hands away at last, but he was smirking now and Jess felt physically sick with fear, her legs and hands shaking.

‘I think you’re still lying, but we’ll let the captain decide. I believe the governor-general will want a word with you.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not that important.’ Jess had to speak loudly to be heard over Brice’s wails since the baby was now almost hysterical.

‘We’ll see, won’t we.’ The man smiled again and leaned close to add, ‘Unless you’d like to be extra nice to me? Then perhaps I’ll keep my mouth shut.’

Jess shuddered and stepped away from him. ‘Never.’ She’d rather take her chances with the captain and the governor-general. ‘Good day to you.’

Before he had time to grab hold of either her or the baby again, she rushed down the steps and tore into the cabin, pushing the bar firmly into place.

It took her a long time to calm herself and Brice, and even when he was quiet again at last, she couldn’t stop trembling. She stroked his fuzzy head, the hair now almost as light as her own, and kissed his soft cheek, holding him close. ‘I won’t let them hurt you, my sweet, never fear,’ she told him. But although he stared trustingly at her with his big blue eyes, so like those of his father, the truth was she didn’t know how she was to keep him safe. If those men really tried to harm him, what chance did she stand?

Later that afternoon, she wasn’t surprised to be ordered up on deck by the captain. ‘Madam, you are under arrest and I’m taking you to shore,’ he said through the cabin door, sounding very stern. ‘Make no mistake, I will have my men batter this door down if you don’t come of your own free will. Now pack a few essentials. You have five minutes.’

Jess knew there was no point arguing. Quickly, she stuffed what she would need into a bundle before tying Brice to her chest in his sling. He grizzled, still upset from the rough handling he’d received earlier, but she tried to shush him and followed the captain up to the main deck. A terrified-looking Mr Graham came rushing after them and when he saw her head for the railing and start to climb down to a smaller boat, he cried out, ‘Where are you going? What’s going on?’

‘They think I’m Dutch, but don’t worry, I’ll soon put them right,’ she replied with more confidence than she felt.

But how exactly was she to convince them?

Chapter Thirty-Four

She was taken to the walled town of Batavia and despite the dangerous situation she found herself in, she looked around with fascination at this strange city. Even though it was in the Far East, it looked almost entirely Dutch. Rows of gabled brick houses faced tree-lined canals, laid out in a straight grid just like the ones in Gothenburg. It was obvious Batavia had also been modelled on Amsterdam, and it felt almost surreal to Jess to be in such a familiar environment so far from home.

They approached from the sea and she couldn’t fail to notice the massive shoreline fortress that dominated the surrounding area. Now it seemed that was to be her destination. She began to imagine herself and Brice rotting in some damp dungeon underneath the fort, but tried to suppress such thoughts. She needed to keep her wits about her and she knew that panicking would only paralyse her brain.

‘Why are you taking me there?’ she demanded to know, nodding in the direction of the fortress.

‘It’s where the governor-general is housed,’ the captain replied, and although he wouldn’t tell her any more, that was enough to calm Jess slightly. If she was at least given the chance to speak to the governor-general, she might be able to persuade him somehow that she was Swedish.

The place was teeming with people, and she gathered that other senior officials, as well as an entire garrison, lived at the fort. The captain handed her over to two guards and told them to put her in a locked room somewhere.

‘I shall go and apprise the governor-general of your presence,’ he said to Jess. ‘He’s a very busy man, however, so it may be some time before he can deal with you.’

Jess hoped that meant hours of kicking her heels, rather than days, but as she went with the two guards, she didn’t hold out much hope.

Killian stared in disgust at the bowl of food in front of him, which contained nothing but a small amount of rice and some old pork that was tougher than shoe leather. He wondered how on earth any man was supposed to survive on such meagre rations, let alone be able to do a day’s work, but he didn’t complain. Some of the other crew members had already tried that and been flogged for their trouble. Others had received the same severe punishment for barely any reason at all, and Killian could only hope Mr Campbell managed to talk them out of this dangerous situation before matters turned even worse.

He became aware of sniggering among some of the Dutchmen who were standing guard over the prisoners. He tried to listen to what they were saying, but although his Swedish was now very good, he found Dutch almost impossible to understand. He turned to the Swedish sailor sitting next to him and whispered, ‘What are they finding so amusing, Almroth? They seem very pleased with themselves.’

Almroth looked slightly uncomfortable, but he was a forthright man and so he muttered, ‘They’re saying one of our women’s been taken off the ship and into custody at Batavia. I think she’s to be tried before the governor-general.’

‘What?’ Killian felt his mouth go dry. There was only one woman on board the
Friedericus Rex
and that was Jessamijn. How could she possibly have been arrested? This had nothing to do with her.

The thought of Jess, and presumably Brice too, in the sort of care he was on the receiving end of here made his insides turn to ice. Then he saw red. Without thinking about any consequences, he stood up with a bellow of rage. This had gone too far. Jessamijn hadn’t done any harm and she had to be saved, no matter what.

He threw himself into the middle of the group of guards and attacked, closely followed by Adair who’d been watching and listening as usual. The youth had filled out a lot in the last few months and was handy with his fists. White-hot anger gave Killian extra strength, and having the element of surprise helped as well. Even so, it was a desperate struggle, but one he was determined to win.

Anything else was unthinkable.

Jess spent the night sitting on the hard floor of the little cell she had been taken to. She didn’t dare fall asleep on the wooden bench which was all the furniture the small, airless space contained. She was afraid that if she lay down on the bench, Brice might fall off and she couldn’t bear to think of him being hurt or worse. The place stank of excrement, vomit and rotting substances, but although this bothered her at first, she soon grew used to it. She found it harder to adapt to her uncomfortable position with Brice sleeping on her lap. Having only nodded off occasionally, she was in no mood to speak to anyone the following morning. The two guards who returned took no notice and ordered her to follow them.

She was taken to a grand room with large windows overlooking the bay, and after having waited a few moments, a man came walking in with brisk steps. He bowed, dismissed the guards and waited until they had left before addressing her.

‘I am Dirk van Cloon, the Governor-General of Batavia, and I understand you claim to be a Mrs Kinross?’ He spoke in Dutch and Jess saw no point in pretending she didn’t understand. This man wasn’t stupid and if she was to make him see that she wasn’t a threat to him, she had to stick to the truth.

‘I don’t have to claim anything,’ she said firmly, ‘I
am
Mrs Kinross, Jessamijn Kinross. My husband is a former Scotsman, assistant to Mr Campbell, and we are all good citizens of Sweden, despite our varied backgrounds.’

‘And yet you speak fluent Dutch and have a Dutch name.’

‘I didn’t know it was a crime to have a Dutch father,’ she replied waspishly. ‘Mine moved to Sweden when I was only a baby, but naturally he taught me his own language. I speak fluent English as well, but that doesn’t make me English.’

He smiled fleetingly, acknowledging that she had a point. ‘I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you then,’ he said. ‘Captain Backer is somewhat, shall we say, overzealous? We had been given information that Mr Campbell’s ship was an interloper, an Ostend ship flying Swedish colours, and of course we had to find out whether this was the truth.’

‘You don’t believe that now?’

Mr van Cloon shook his head. ‘No. I have spoken to Mr Campbell and read through his official papers. All seems to be in order and I have apologised to him as well. I do hope you can forgive us, but one can’t be too careful. Is there anything I can offer you as compensation? I understand you may have had a less than comfortable night?’

‘You could have my husband freed. He was taken away with the others when Captain Backer boarded us.’

‘They will all be freed as soon as possible, including your husband. I …’

Mr van Cloon was cut off in mid-sentence as a commotion broke out just outside the room and the door was thrown open. Five men came tumbling in, two of them landing on the floor, while one shouted in Swedish, ‘I demand to see the governor-general. This is an outrage. Women and children should not be involved in any hostilities, and …’ The rest of his words were silenced by a blow.

‘Killian!’ Jess rushed over to the group and clouted the man who had just hit her husband. ‘Leave him be, you oaf. And Adair, what are you doing here?’

The Dutchman turned to her in confusion, obviously not sure whether he should defend himself against a woman holding a baby. Meanwhile, Killian looked up from the floor and blinked, then a smile spread over his features.

‘Jessamijn, by all that’s holy. Thank the Lord, you’re all right,’ he muttered, trying to stand up. ‘And Brice?’

‘He’s fine, we’re both fine, but what are you doing here? I thought …’

Before anyone could say anything else, Mr van Cloon’s raised voice cut across everything else, icy with anger. ‘What is the meaning of this? I thought I asked not to be disturbed. And can not three men subdue one man and a boy? What do I employ you for?’

‘I’m sorry sir, but they escaped from the ship where they were being held and we’ve been chasing them ever since.’

‘Do I gather this is your husband, Mrs Kinross?’

Jess nodded and held onto Killian’s arm, despite the fact that one of the guards now had him in a firm grip on the other. ‘Yes, it is.’

‘May I ask why you have come, Mr Kinross?’ Mr van Cloon looked Killian up and down with a scowl. He wasn’t a pretty sight, dirty and dishevelled with quite a few bruises and one especially nasty-looking black eye. Adair didn’t look much better. Jessamijn translated his words for her husband, who replied in Swedish.

‘I’ve come for my wife. I don’t care what you do to the rest of us, but a woman and child should be kept out of it. They are innocent of any wrong doing. Please let me take her place, whatever it is she’s accused of.’

‘Translate for me too please, Mrs Kinross,’ van Cloon ordered tersely. ‘I find the Swedish tongue somewhat difficult to follow.’ Jess did so. ‘There is no need, Mr Kinross. Your wife is free to go. I agree with your views entirely and although I admire your courage in trying to reach me to plead your case, I would like to know how you and the boy escaped from a well-guarded ship? And how on earth did you even know about your wife being here?’

Killian shrugged. ‘The escape was easy. We, er … hit a few people and jumped into a dinghy that was tied to the ship, then rowed as fast as we could. It took your men a while to lower the pinnace, so we had a head start. As for how I knew, the men guarding us were laughing about the fact that a woman had been found on board the
Friedericus Rex
and taken ashore. Since there was only one woman on that ship, I knew it had to be my wife.’