Time and Tide (29 page)

Struggling still to stand, Hew was the last to disembark from the
Yellow Caravel
, tripping weak and shakily along the narrow plank. Since he had not yet found his sea legs, he might well have hoped that the grip of terra firma would hold him in her grasp. Yet this proved not the case, for no sooner had his land legs made contact with the earth than they gave way and crumpled. Hew fell tumbling to the ground.

‘Ah, no you don't, young master, up ye come!' He heard a harsh voice ringing in his ear, as he was roughly seized and pulled back on his feet. ‘Ye are wanted in the Scots house, and will come precipitate.' This was not the gracious welcome Hew might have expected, from the courtesy and deference he had met with on the ship. He looked round for the shipman, Master Beck, who was watching the
unloading of his cargo in the dock. The crates, sacks and tuns were winched from the ship and trundled off in carts. Beck gestured reassuringly. ‘I will be there, by and by. Give my best respects to the Conservator.'

Hew was taken from the harbour up towards the marketplace, where the Scottish nation had their lodgings, close to the town hall. Here the merchants ate and slept, and enjoyed the privilege of tax free meat and drink, while in the stadhuis they held court, according to Scot's law. Inside, he found the office of the Scots Conservator, occupied already by the merchant, Archie Chandler. George Hacket sat before them at a writing desk. Chandler cried at once, leaving Hew in no doubt who had called for his arrest, ‘This is the ruffian I have accused!'

Baffled, Hew answered, ‘Of what?'

‘Of perfidy and infamy of a most pernicious kind.'

‘Your pardon, sir,' Hew turned to appeal to the Conservator, ‘but may I know the nature of this charge?'

‘You speak, sir, as and when you are addressed,' the Conservator retorted, which did not seem the most auspicious start. ‘The nature of the charge, of which you stand accused, is one of theft.'

‘Aye,' said the merchant, ‘Can you deny, you robbed me?'

‘I can, and do,' Hew answered in astonishment. ‘Yet what is it that you suppose you have lost?'

‘My purse, sir, while I slept, was taken from my pocket by your little whore,' Chandler swore indignantly.

Unconsciously, Hew smiled. ‘Ah, Jennie, you minx,' he applauded her, under his breath.

‘You see, sir,' cried the merchant, ‘how the villain smiles? I think that we have caught a viper in our midst, that flees from darker waters he has stirred at home, supposing his iniquities are hidden from our courts.'

‘In truth,' admitted Hew, ‘I had not realised that on coming to Campvere, I left such devastation in my wake, or that I should be taken for a brigand.'

‘It seems to me, sir, that you think this is a jest; yet I assure you, you will not be laughing when the noose is at your neck,' the merchant sneered. ‘Is that not so, now, Master Hacket?'

‘No court of law, that patterns on the Scots, will hang a man without he has defence, or fails to let him make his answer to the charge,' objected Hew. ‘Is that not so, now, Master Hacket?'

‘That is so. And yet this is no matter, sir, that you should take so lightly, for you will find,' said George Hacket, ‘that we have no patience here with thieves.'

‘Indeed, I do not laugh at it,' protested Hew. ‘But if this merchant has been cozened by a whore, then he should take the moral, not to lie with whores, or else make honest payment to them for their pains, for surely such as lie with him are sorely put upon. I do not see at all what it has to do with me.'

‘It is plain what it has to do with you,' the merchant roared, ‘she is your punk.'

Hew scowled at him. ‘My
what
?'

‘Your harlot, sir, your hussy, drab, your kittock, pink. Is that not plain enough for you? Tis plain enough to see you were her pimp.'

‘So this madman did address me on the
Yellow Caravel
,' said Hew to the Conservator, ‘when as I said as plain to him, as I do to you, that I had no connection with the woman that he bought, at whatever price. Indeed, I was astonished, that he asked me to sell her to him, for, as I made quite clear, she was not mine to sell.'

‘You sent her to my bed!' the merchant roared.

‘Indeed, sir, I did not.'

Hacket gave a snort of irritation. He was aptly named, thought Hew, for a justice of the peace, like a humph of disapproval, or the clearing of a throat. ‘Do we have this woman in our grasp?'

The guard replied, ‘It seems, sir, that she slipped away.'

‘Well, go and look for her! We cannot have her loose about the town. Have her stripped and whipped, and put back on the ship.'

‘But she has robbed me, sir!' the merchant whined.

‘True, I had forgotten that,' Hacket said judiciously, ‘Then have
her hanged. Will that appease you, Archie?' he demanded of the merchant.

‘I suppose, sir, that it must,' Archie answered grudgingly, ‘as lang as I have reparation, too, fae
him
,' he jerked a thumb at Hew.

‘It seems to me,' said Hew, ‘that you have been well served, and with the ready justice you deserve.'

‘It seems to
me
,' returned George Hacket, ‘you were best advised to hold your tongue. What creature are you, sir?'

At that moment, captain Beck appeared, announcing cheerfully, ‘Good morrow, masters. All unloaded, and, I hope, all well?'

‘All is not well,' Hacket said bluntly, ‘since you have brought us a shipload of whores.'

‘Ah,' said captain Beck, ‘that was a mistake. You showed to him the letter, did you no?' he asked aside to Hew.

Hew replied, ‘Not yet.'

The captain looked dismayed. ‘Well, why the devil not?' he hissed.

‘He has not asked for it,' admitted Hew.

‘Well gie it him, now, you loun!' demanded Beck. To Hacket he explained, ‘He kens nothing of this woman, for he hasnae been too well. And he has left the cabin in an awfy state. He is what ye might call an innocent abroad.'

Hew had a letter in his bag addressed to George Hacket, which bore the sheriff's seal. Though the words inside were brief, the letter seemed to take the Conservator a long while to read. At last he closed it thoughtfully, and slipped it in his coat. ‘There has been a mistake here,' he informed the merchant. ‘This man is here on business of the Scottish Crown, and he is not involved in a dispute with you. Therefore, I bid you beg his pardon for the slur. And further, I would counsel you, not to lie with whores. Your indiscretion shall be made known to the minister at our kirk. We have our own kirk, here,' he explained to Hew, ‘according to our morals and our faith, that takes a dim view of these matters.'

‘Quite properly,' said Hew.

‘What!' the merchant roared. ‘Am I not to have satisfaction?'

‘You will beg this good man's pardon, and be satisfied with that. On your knees,' suggested Hacket.

Hew thought, in all conscience, he could not consent to that. He began to feel uncomfortable. ‘No, sir, I implore you, let us part as friends,' he offered to the merchant.

Chandler thundered past him, snarling, ‘I will see you damned!'

George Hacket glowered at Hew. ‘You are here on business of the Crown, and I have been enjoined to extend every courtesy. Yet I must warn you that I do not stand for discord here. We are accepted by the people in this town with privilege and kindness, and in return, it is our duty to respect their peace, and be sure not to offend them. We do not, sir, bring whores to their clean sheets. We do not cheat and rob from them, or pay them less than we do rightly owe. We do not sneer at their manners or their food, and while we may observe that they are fond of cabbage, and that their pottage tastes like barrels full of dust, we keep it to ourselves, and do not deign to mention it. We treat their woman civilly, and do not spit and curse when we are walking through their streets. We treat them, sir, as they treat us, as friends. And most of all, we do not shame ourselves, to squabble and to bicker with our fellow Scots, that they might think us rude, uncivil or unlearned. We not flyt or brangle, or bring riot to their streets. Do you understand, me, sir?' he iterated coldly.

‘Clearly,' answered Hew.

‘That I am pleased to hear. This letter states that you must go to Ghent, and asks that I provide you with a guide. The writer is presumptuous, in assuming that I have a man to spare, for that is inconvenient at this time. There are, however, several Scottish soldiers idle in the town, one of whom will no doubt serve your turn, and I will put a notice in the barracks, and have a man sent to you tonight. I suggest you leave for Ghent first thing tomorrow morning.'

‘That is the plan,' admitted Hew.

‘In which case,' Hacket said, ‘you must find somewhere to stay the night. It is usual for our countrymen to stay here at the Scots house, where they may sleep and eat at the preferential rate, yet I fear your presence here has not been well received, and you must pay the penalty, of staying at the inn. Master Beck will see you to your rest, and presently you may expect a man to come to you.'

The Conservator dismissed him with a brief wave of his hand. ‘I trust, sir, and hope, that we shall not meet again.'

‘He does not seem to like me much,' Hew remarked to Master Beck.

‘You do not need to mind him, sir, for he will see you right,' the genial captain said. ‘He is a good man, in his way. He has the keeping of the Scots part of the town, and he keeps it well, but there is enough for him to oversee the commerce and the court, without he has to mind our manners too. The Dutch folk are right guid tae us, and he wad not offend them for the world.'

‘No more should I,' said Hew.

‘It is the matter of the whore, sir, that has vexed him,' Beck explained. ‘It is a point of present law, that no wench might be brought here on a ship, unless she is a married wife of good repute, to prevent those woman whoring after soldiers, which in this time of war is now a nuisance and a scourge. The wee lass running loose is an embarrassment to Hacket, that he and I will both be called to answer for back home, if the lassie is not found.'

‘Then I am right sorry,' Hew replied contritely, ‘that I have caused you trouble. I had not understood the lass's full intent.'

‘Aye, sir. But what is trouble, but the bared excitement of a tedious time? The world were dull without it,' answered Beck. ‘Though it might have been better,' he admitted nonetheless, ‘had you kept her to your cabin, and not thought to share her out.'

‘But I did not . . . you mistake me, sir . . .' Hew stammered, with a blush.

The shipman winked at him. ‘Whisht, son, dinna fret, for we
have all been young. Look, here we are at the inn in the tower – the Campveerse toren, they cry her; and she stands as sentry here over the town, at the end of the haven, a gate to the sea. Is she not a bonny sight? She is part of the town's old fortifications, though she has been an inn now for some eighty years.'

‘She looks brave, indeed,' admitted Hew.

‘And you will have a room that overlooks the wattir, and the sweetest, freshest linen anywhere in town. And the cooking is beyond compare. They do a roasted pig, where the skin is cracked black, and the fat is sweet and melted, soft into the flesh, the like of which you will not find at George Hacket's house.'

‘Then it cannot be a penalty to stay here,' answered Hew.

‘The penalty is in your purse, for you will pay full duty on your wine, forfeiting the privilege. Though it may hurt your pocket, tis a small price to pay. God speed, you, sir,' said Beck.

A young girl showed Hew to his room. Her name was Annet. ‘The sheets are fresh for every guest,' she told him.

‘Thank you, that is good to know.'

‘Will you stay here long?'

‘Tomorrow I must go to Ghent.'

She nodded. ‘One night, then.' The girl was tall and fair, with pink scrubbed cheeks and a white linen apron and cap over her blue-striped dress. ‘You speak English well,' he complimented her.

‘Thank you. My father wished for me to learn. He thought it would be good for trade. You will not find it spoken so much, when you go further south.'

‘Do many Scots come here?'

‘Only the rich ones.' She smiled at him. ‘Why do you not stay at the Scots house, sir?'

‘Because I quarrelled,' he confided, ‘with a merchant on the boat. A man called Archie Chandler.'

‘
Ach!
' She exclaimed, with a word he did not understand.

‘What did you say?'

‘Your pardon. It is a bad word in the Dutch,' she admitted. ‘It is
the name of a disease, and I do not know the English for it. In our language, we use sickness, sometimes body parts, as expressions of disgust. My father would not like to hear me say it. But I do not like that man.'

‘Nor do I,' answered Hew. ‘Is your father the innkeeper here?'

‘No, sir, but his friend,' the girl said enigmatically. ‘The innkeeper has many friends. He is – what would you call it? – a man of diverse parts. He will find you horses to take you down to Vlissingen, once you have crossed the ferry. What will you have to eat, sir?' she changed the subject suddenly.

‘What you think is best.'

Annet considered this. ‘I do not know,' she said at last. ‘The lobsters and the waterfowl are best, but it is now too late in the year. The roasted pork is good. But the Scots do not like to eat pork, or salad roots, or greens, or any of the things that might be good for them.'

‘I will have the pork,' said Hew.

‘Then I will tell the cook. We have a very good cook here. It is the cook, who cooked the fowl for Prince Willem's wedding feast. There were peacocks, and herons, and bittern, and quail.'

‘That must have been a grand occasion.'