“My friends don’t speak English,” David said. “Excuse me while I explain to them that I am going to pay a call on Captain Marshall.” He then added, softly, in rapid Dutch. “Be on guard. Let none of the English on board in my absence. If I don’t return by tomorrow morning, make haste to the settlement and warn them. From the extent of the tobacco crop, there must be several dozen English here, at least.”
“Why are you visiting them? Wouldn’t it be better to just come back in force?” asked Maria.
“It’s a calculated risk. I need to see just how many of them there are, how well fed and armed, whether they have a fort, and more. And much more. Are the local Indians friendly or hostile? Are the English of the royalist or parliamentary factions? Are they Church of England, or Puritans, or even Catholics?”
* * *
David was gone the rest of the day. A lone Englishman came back to the creek and informed them that David had been invited to dine with Captain Marshall and spend the night.
Maria and the others could only hope that the messenger was telling the truth. Two men remained on watch at all times.
The next morning, while mist still shrouded the creek, David emerged, together with two of the English. They were better dressed than any of the men seen the day before. David said something to them, and they waited at the forest edge as he came up to the yacht. “Captain Marshall and one of his colleagues, a Mr. Francis Scott, will be enjoying our hospitality. Remember what I said about keeping your lips buttoned. I am fairly sure that Scott is being brought because he speaks Dutch—whether he says so or not.”
“How many of them are there?”
“Sixty, all men. They have been here since 1630, and they cultivate tobacco. Perhaps half a mile up the creek they have a fort, with a wood palisade. But I need to get back to them, lest they grow suspicious. Fortunately, the custom in the Guianas has been for the few English, Dutch and French in the country to live in harmony, so they aren’t expecting trouble.”
“Mevrouw Vorst—”
“Please, Captain, by now I think you can call me Maria.”
“Maria, ply Marshall and Scott with questions about the Indians, the animals, the plants, the weather, and the like. Philip, you can tell them about the wonders of Grantville. Stay off the topic of politics! All right, I better go fetch them now.”
* * *
“Ahoy, the Walvis! Captain de Vries and party, with two English guests,” bellowed the the first mate of the Eikhoorn.
The men on the deck of the Walvis stopped what they were doing, and stared.
“They don’t seem happy to see Englishmen,” Captain Marshall commented.
“The Dutch-English relationship has sometimes been a troubled one,” David replied. “But you are my guests.”
* * *
Heyndrick and Philip were both on the deck of the Walvis. Heyndrick finished cleaning his fowling piece. Heyndrick looked up, and saw Philip sitting on the railing, a fishing rod in hand. He studied Philip for a moment, and decided he might as well just ask the question he had been thinking about lately. “How are things between you and Maria these days?”
Philip turned. “I dunno. Okay, I guess. I’ve recovered from my case of hormonal insanity, if that’s what you mean.”
“Good. If that means what I think it does. So it wouldn’t bother you, if . . . if I wanted to be better friends with Maria?”
“I guess not. It’s hardly poaching, after the way she told me off. It was nice of you to ask, though.”
“Excellent. Come to my cabin, share a glass of brandy with me.”
* * *
Meanwhile, Marshall and Scott had come down, together with Maria, to David’s cabin. “Our colony is a new one, I can offer you better hospitality here,” David explained.
At dinner, David came to the point. “I understand your last news of England was from this past summer.”
Marshall gave Scott a meaningful look.
“I regret to tell you that King Charles has made alliance with the Catholic powers, with France and Spain.”
Scott cursed. “I knew it was a mistake for him to marry that Frenchwoman.”
“Worse,” David continued, “rather than declare war on the Dutch Republic openly, he and the French betrayed us. The French and English squadrons that sailed with Von Tromp’s Sea Beggars, to meet the Spanish fleet at Dunkirk, pounced on him from behind.”
“So England and the Dutch Republic are at war,” said Marshall. “Are we prisoners? Hostages?”
“Formally speaking, I am right now in the service of Sweden and the USE,” drawled David. “And there has been no attack by England upon either. So while there is no doubt that this alliance is aimed, ultimately, at Sweden, and the USE, I am not required to take hostile action against any English ships or settlers I may encounter.”