Eddie looked over at Hannibal. “Do you have any questions, concerns, or objections to this arrangement, Sir Sehested?”
And Sehested, knowing full well that if he objected, King Christian could conceivably blame him for the failure to snatch the island, shook his head and smiled. “No, Lord Cantrell, I have nothing to add or object. I think we may consider our business here concluded. Lady Anne Cathrine, I believe it is time for you to meet your sister and make your entrance to the party. And here, providentially, are your two hosts whose duty it is to escort you into the building.”
Tromp and van Walbeeck rose, each offering an arm to Anne Cathrine. She rose with their completely unnecessary assistance and led the way to the exit. Tromp did not just smile but grinned at Eddie as he passed. A step behind, van Walbeeck jiggled the up-timer’s elbow conspiratorially. “After the party—some schnapps, perhaps?” Eddie nodded diffidently, was too busy watching his wife—
—Who, as she exited the room, turned her head briefly in his direction and sent him a look that sent all thoughts of schnapps out of the up-timer’s head. Eddie knew just what he was doing after the party tonight, and it didn’t involve sitting around tossing back shots with a genial, middle-aged Dutchman.
When the trio had left, Sehested rose, his hand out. “Lord Cantrell, well done.”
Well done? He took and shook Hannibal’s hand. “No hard feelings, then?”
Sehested looked slightly perplexed, slightly confused. “If I understand your idiom, no: no ‘hard feelings.’ In fact, your solution is a great burden lifted from me. I was unsure if the Dutch could be brought around to help us take an island upon which, to some degree, they have best claim. You found a solution that your father-in-law did not foresee.” He stopped, considered. “Or perhaps that was his purpose.”
“What do you mean?”
“I harbor a suspicion, Lord Cantrell, that King Christian occasionally sets us tasks for which he has no solution in mind, simply to test our determination, our resourcefulness, our ingenuity. If I am right in this conjecture, then I suspect he will be happier with how you achieved this than he is with the achievement itself.” Hannibal smiled. “And as for me, I am happy to be sharing this strange adventure with a fellow who at once respects royal authority, yet is no fawning slave to its every whim. To attempt one of your stranger up-time idioms, would it be correct to say that I ‘like your spunk’?”
Eddie laughed aloud. “I guess it would, although I haven’t heard that expression in quite a while.”
“It is out-dated then?”
“Given that it’s 1635, I don’t see how anything from my time could be called ‘out-dated.’ And hell, if it is, who cares? And by the way, call me Eddie, from now on.”
“Very well, Eddie. And you should call me Hannibal. And we must hurry if we are to be on time. I suspect you will not want to miss your wife’s grand entrance.”
Michael McCarthy, Jr., pushed through the old sail-cloth that was the curtain that screened off the recovery cots from the dispensary. Aodh O’Rourke’s alert eyes were already on him as he entered. “Damn it,” Mike grumbled, “are you still laying about?”
“It’s a vacation I’m having, Don Michael. Don’t be spoiling it.”
“Huh. Some vacation. Almost lost your leg to that damn infection that set in on the way back here. I’m guessing it took a few gallons of one hundred proof cane spirits to save it.”
O’Rourke grumbled, licking his lips at the words “cane spirits.” “Hrm. Then t’was a bad waste of good rum.”
Michael stared at him. “You’d have rather had the rum than kept your leg?”
O’Rourke frowned.
“Well?” Mike pressed.
“Never rush a man when he’s making a difficult choice, Don Michael. I’ll cogitate on it a bit and get back to you. Now what brings you here, anyway? I would have expected you’d be making merry at the party I’m hearing.”
“Me? At the party? Hell, I’d rather be hung by my thumbs.”
“Which I’m sure some of the landowners would be happy to arrange. So you’ve just dropped by to check in on my sorry self again?”
Mike shrugged. Evidently Dr. Brand&aTilde;o’s three noble Danish nurses had updated O’Rourke regarding the visitors he’d had when still lost in a febrile, trackless delirium. “Yeah. Maybe. But I had to come out this way, anyhow.”
“Ah, you’re making me feel so special, y’are. And what has you coming to the fort in the middle of the night, or near thereto?”