Grantville Gazette 35 gg-35

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Grantville Gazette 35 gg-35 Page 17

by Paula Goodlett (Ed)


  "Have you ever thought that maybe John doesn't think he deserves you, and that if he proves he's a good soldier, he might be more worthy of you?"

  Sveta was stunned by the suggestion, and burst into tears. "But he's given me a family."

  Suzanne reached out and stroked Sveta's hair. "I don't think John knows how important a real family is to you, Sveta. I'm reminded of something Betty told me John said back in June, when he first took you around to her place. Do you remember what he said when she suggested that he escort you to Jabe McDougal's wedding?"

  Sveta tried to remember back to that horrible day. Slowly the words came back to her. "That a girl with my looks could have anybody she wanted."

  "Have you ever wondered what John might have been thinking when he said that?"

  Sveta had totally forgotten that conversation. She thought about it now, and came to a surprising conclusion. "John thinks I'm pretty?"

  Suzanne grinned. "A bit more than pretty. You're a very beautiful girl."

  Sveta thought of the most beautiful girl she knew. "As beautiful as Julia?"

  "At least as beautiful as Julia."

  "Oh!" Sveta had never really seen herself as being beautiful. She knew she was better than passable, but beautiful was always what other people were called, never her. "More beautiful than Donetta?"

  Immediately Sveta wished the name unsaid. She glanced at Mama. There was moment of shock, and then a smug smile appeared on Mama's face.

  "Madam's beauty was barely skin deep, Sveta. Your beauty runs deeper, and will last longer." Then Mama enveloped Sveta in a massive hug. "Don't worry, darling, everything's going to turn out all right."

  Sveta luxuriated in Mama's embrace. She was happy Mama had accepted her. And even happier that her baby would be born into this wonderful family. Now, if only this war would end . . .

  ****

  Northwest Passage, Part Nine

  Herbert Sakalaucks

  Bay of Biscay, March 1634

  Two days into the voyage and habits were already forming. Meals were done in shifts, with the men usually eating last. Aboard the Grande Dame, Pierre Marion stood in line with a pail and bag to collect the evening meal for the group he ate with. He watched the cook serve out the helpings, one piece of meat and bread for every diner in a group. Captain de Bussy had laid down strict rules that anyone trying to steal an extra serving would be put on half-rations for a week. Fellow passengers made sure the rule was followed.

  Rough tables were set up outside the cabins and each table had a bucket to draw the meat ration. Pierre ate with the five other men who made up the informal leadership for the La Chaume passengers. This was his meal to get the pail of pork and the bag of bread. As he leaned against the bulkhead waiting his turn, he could feel a hum from the ship's rigging transmitted throughout the frame of the ship. The tension on the rigging from the wind sounded like the ship was singing. It wasn't the only tension on board. As he watched the people on deck, it was evident that it was not a happy ship. The announcement, as they sailed, that passengers would be charged for the voyage from the money promised for the purchase of their land had left many passengers seething with resentment. The captain had posted sentries throughout the ship as a precaution.

  "How many?" Pierre's reverie was interrupted by the cook. It was his turn. The ladle was poised to serve up the pork. "Hurry up, I don't have all day."

  The scowl brought a hurried "Six," from Pierre. At lunch, one group went hungry when they angered the cook. Life would be miserable for a week if Pierre caused George to miss his meal. The cook dropped five pieces into the bucket and passed over a full loaf of bread. The cook gave a snort, "Enjoy the bread, it's the last fresh thing you'll get this trip. From here on it's strictly biscuits"

  Pierre didn't budge and held out his bucket. "That was only five pieces, I said six!"

  "Don't get in a dither. One piece was bigger than the rest. It counts as two. Now if you want extras, they'll cost you."

  Pierre looked at the meat. One was slightly larger than the rest, but two were smaller. The sly look on the cook's face gave away the game. If he could skimp on the servings, he could sell the leftovers and no one would be the wiser. It was going to be a long voyage so Pierre made up his mind quickly to stop the scam now. He crowded the cook and said, "The captain said no lying about portions, or we'd be on half-rations. Maybe I should call the officer on watch and see what happens to a cook who shorts a passenger?" Although a head shorter than the cook, he shoved the bucket into the cook's gut to emphasize his point.

  The cook backed off and quickly served up another piece of meat. "No need for that. It's a long voyage and the captain wants everyone treated equally." The watch officer was staring at the group to see if trouble was imminent.

  Pierre decided that he didn't need to be identified as a troublemaker by the officer so he simply added a last, quiet, comment. "More like the cook wants to skim a little extra for himself. I'm going to pass the word so folks watch you closer." Pierre glanced back over his shoulder as he headed down the ladder to the cabin where his friends waited for their meal. The officer had returned to his previous work. As he reached the bottom, he stumbled over the step that wasn't there. The gloom down below was a sharp contrast to the evening sun. He got his bearings from the argument still going on at his table. He passed a sentry on the way. It was one of Captain Reneuf's men. He paused to chat, but one whiff of the pork and the sentry turned green, stuffed a hand over his mouth and raced up the ladder. Even down below, Pierre could hear the faint sounds of someone getting violently sick over the ship's side. He walked over to the table and set the bucket and bread down.

  Phillipe pointed with his knife in the direction the sentry had left. "What did you do to that boy? One look at you and he ran off.!"

  "I think it's more like he hasn't got his sea legs and he smelled the pork," Pierre laughed, but then turned serious. "We need to watch the cook. He tried to short me some meat and wanted a bribe to make it up."

  Phillipe slammed his knife into the tabletop. "Just like I was saying! Those stinking thieves need to have something done to stop them. If we don't, we'll all be bond servants by the time we land!"

  "I know what you think, Phillipe. So does most of the ship." Pierre pointed to the vacant spot where the sentry had stood. "You keep up your loud complaining and someone's going to report you. Maybe they even have already. Reneuf's a good enough sort that he might overlook it. Most others won't." He waved toward the sentry's previous location. "Why do you think he's here? The captain's worried that something might happen."

  "And if it does, so what? We Huguenots have always had to fight for our rights. There's enough of us on this ship to do what needs doing. Or are you scared?" Phillipe tried to stare Pierre down.

  "You're a fool. The captain's word is law on a ship. What you're hinting at could be called mutiny. The answer for that is a rope. Even if we initially succeeded, there's still the rest of the fleet. We'll get through this trouble. They can't get any worse. Just wait until we land." Pierre pulled out a short knife and started to serve out the meat. "With all the land where we're going, it will be easy to practice our customs without someone watching our every move." Phillipe sat down, but still kept grumbling. Pierre noticed though, that when the sentry returned, his friend kept his voice low.

  ****

  Captain de Bussy's problems had just gotten worse. Bishop de Perpignan sat in front of him waiting for an answer to his request. De Bussy toyed with a writing quill and knife trying to find a way out from the dilemma the bishop had presented him. As a good Catholic, he could not deny the bishop's request to hold a mass each Sunday. As a ship's captain, it was the last thing he wanted to do. With a ship full of Huguenots, only a few of the ship's crew would attend mass voluntarily. The bishop knew that and was pressing for forced attendance. With tensions already running high, it could be the trigger for a mutiny among the passengers. With a sigh, he placed the quill and knife back in the desk drawer and
squared his shoulders. He was responsible for the whole ship and his own soul. He would imitate Solomon and divide the baby. "Your Grace, I will allow a sermon, but it will be done before I hold my weekly talk with the crew and passengers. There will not be enough time for a complete mass. That is the best I can do."

  "Captain, I must protest! The heretics must be made to attend a full service. I demand you let me hold a full mass!" De Perpignan was a firm believer in the principles of the Inquisition, and secular issues held little merit in his view.

  De Bussy stood up and glared at the bishop. His answer was measured, with barely suppressed rage. "Your Grace, on this ship, I am the only person that may demand anything! Be satisfied with what you've been given. This is the second time you've been told. Once more and you will regret the result. You may go." He rang a small bell and his clerk appeared. "Escort the bishop to his cabin!" The clerk gently took de Perpignan by the elbow and showed him out. He had heard the entire exchange. By the next morning, the entire ship knew what the bishop planned.

  When Sunday morning arrived, the settlers and crew gathered for the captain's speech. The seas were running high and held the promise of a coming storm. Many of the settlers remained below, with seasickness as their excuse. Some of the children frolicked on deck, enjoying the limited freedom. Captain de Bussy stood on the aftercastle, trying to gauge the temperament of the crowd gathered below. In his twenty years of sailing, he'd never had a hint of mutiny aboard a ship he commanded. Today he had his doubts. He'd posted extra idlers at the stern, out of sight from the crowd gathered below, just in case of trouble. Other ships in the fleet had reported minor problems, but his Grande Dame was far and away the most troubled. He heard a commotion forward and saw the basis for most of his problems pushing through the crowd in full priestly raiment. The fool just couldn't recognize the seriousness of the situation! The richly appointed Catholic garb was sure to anger the Huguenots. At least his two priests following him were dressed plainly. He nodded to his bosun. The squeal of the pipes brought everyone's attention aft.

  De Bussy stepped up to the railing. "It's always been a tradition on my ships that I addressed the entire company on the first Sunday of the month. We are sailing to a new land, where a fresh start awaits all of the settlers in the fleet. We are crowded on all the ships, but with three commonsense rules, we should all reach the new land safely. First, any order from a ship's officer must be obeyed without question. They have years of experience at sea and know what's best in any situation. Second, food and water are sufficient for the voyage, but must not be wasted. What we have must last! And third, follow the eleven commandments." He paused, waiting for the inevitable question.

  One of the settlers in back called out. "Eleven, I thought there were ten?"

  "You have the ten Moses gave and then I added the eleventh. Thou shalt not get drunk! Any disorderly conduct from drinking shall be punished with ten strokes of the lash. Are there any other questions?" He hurried along, hoping to forestall any complaints. "I will give everyone a chance to air grievances each Sunday morning before the midday meal. Just report to my cabin and let my clerk know what you need to speak about. I will take his report and then speak with you." By this time the bishop had joined him at the railing. "We will now have a short service by Bishop de Perpignan to request our Lord's protection on this long voyage."

  A low rumble started from the crowd. Pastor Bigeault called for quiet. The angry rumbles subsided but were replaced by conversations. The bishop glared, but launched into the service he had planned. The rising wind drowned out much of his words. After ten minutes of unintelligible half-heard Latin, Elie turned to Francois and, in a low voice, suggested that he bring Champion up for some fresh air and exercise. "There might not be another chance for a while. The weather looks like we might have a storm coming." Francois was overjoyed at the prospect and raced below. The bishop was now into a sermon in French and caught the crowd's attention.

  His comments on heretics and the Lord's judgment of them brought catcalls from the crowd. He ignored them and continued, "The Lord said that he will lift up the just in his hand. But the evil ones he will cast down into the bottomless pit," and then paused for effect. Pastor Bigeault cocked his head to one side at that. It wasn't quite how he remembered how the verse went, but maybe something had been lost in translation. The bishop continued, "He will cause . . ."

  He had stopped and was staring at something at the rear of the crowd. Francois had just emerged from below with Champion, the big white dog he and Elie had rescued on the road to La Rochelle. The bishop did a passable imitation of a fish out of water. Then he regained his voice and cried out. "Someone stop that thief!" He pointed toward Francois. Everyone just stood there. Some had been dozing and thought it was part of the sermon. Others thought he had lost his place. The bishop then grabbed the nearby bosun and shoved him down the stairs toward Francois. "Arrest that boy. He stole my dog!" As the bosun slowly realized what the bishop meant, he started to head toward Francois. Elie quickly stepped through the crowd to block his path. The bishop hobbled down the stairs after the bosun, followed closely by Captain de Bussy. Elie shielded Francois and Champion from the bosun and stood his ground. The crowd closed in and things began to look ugly.

  De Bussy pulled the few sailors in the crowd away. His worst fears were coming to life. He had seconds before a fight would start. He grabbed the bishop by his collar and hauled him back, yelling as he did, "Stand fast! No one here arrests anyone without my permission. And this pig-" He shook the bishop. "-has no right at all!"

  Using the bishop as a battering ram, he forced his way through the crowd to where Elie and Francois stood with Champion. He released the bishop and demanded, "What is the story here?" He pointed to Elie to start.

  "The boy found the dog trapped in some bushes outside La Rochelle. He'd been there for some time and was nearly dead. I crawled in and freed the dog. He's been with me since. We asked around when we arrived and no one knew anything about him. Ask Captain Reneuf, he was there when we arrived."

  Reneuf was across the deck, but yelled out that what Elie said was correct. The captain turned to the bishop. "And your side?"

  De Perpignan drew himself up and straightened his vestments. "That is my dog. There was an accident on the road to La Rochelle and the dog disappeared. The boy must have taken him. I was injured and couldn't track him down." He reached to grab Champion. With a low growl, the dog threatened to take off the hand. The bishop drew back to strike the dog with his cane.

  Elie clamped a hand on the arm and said softly, "You strike that dog and I'll impale you with that cane."

  The bishop turned to de Bussy. "Are you going to allow this heretic to abuse me like this? I have friends in high places!"

  De Bussy took a deep breath to calm the fury he felt before he answered. "I've told you twice before that I am the supreme authority on this ship and warned you what would happen if you violated that again. The boy is no thief. If the dog's any judge, you have more to answer for. The boy keeps the dog. Your actions and reputation make me question why I should remain a Catholic." He turned to the bosun. "Escort His Eminence to his cabin and see that he remains there." He stepped up on a hatch cover to be seen and heard by the crowd. "I apologize for the disgraceful behavior of this churchman. You will not be bothered by him again. Disperse and prepare for the meal." He waved the cook over. "Mister Gilbert, everyone who wants gets an extra portion of meat with their meal." A cheer went up from those close enough to hear. The news spread quickly throughout the rest of the ship.

  ****

  While the atmosphere on the ship improved, the weather rapidly worsened. De Bussy was kept busy for some time before he could go below and confront the bishop. He had the bishop brought to his cabin, along with the two priests. When de Perpignan started to protest his treatment, de Bussy seized him by the collar and slammed him into a chair. One of the priests made a move to intervene, but one look from de Bussy squelched the intention immediatel
y. De Bussy planted himself in the bishop's face and laid into him. "I don't care who your patron is! Your thoughtless actions today nearly caused a mutiny. I warned you what would happen if you usurped my authority again!" The bishop shifted in the chair, but the captain shoved him back down. "You are confined to your cabin for the remainder of the voyage. The only times you can leave are to answer nature's call and one hour on deck for exercise each day. You will speak to no one during that hour. Your priests will bring you your meals and will be your only visitors. Now get out of my sight!"

  Father Brussard helped the bishop from the chair and gave him support to hobble back to his cabin. Father Valmont stopped and spoke briefly to de Bussy before leaving. "Please don't judge your church by his example. All men are fallible."

  De Bussy sighed, "I know, Father, but there are too many like him. Please see that he follows the rules. I don't enjoy doing this."

  "I will. Just watch the other. He's cut from the same cloth."

  Rather than going to his cabin, de Perpignan asked Father Brussard to escort him on deck for some fresh air. "I'm not sure if we'll have a chance to do this for a few days. Even a landsman like me can see a storm's brewing. Besides, it may be the last chance we have to talk without someone eavesdropping on us." As they walked they discussed what could be done about de Bussy's edict.

  Father Brussard endured the bishop's complaints for sometime before finally interjecting, "Your Grace, I am in contact with Monsieur Mousnier. Perhaps he can plead your case to Admiral Duquesne and have the edict revoked." Brussard was less than forthcoming on his relationship with Mousnier. He had reached an understanding with Mousnier prior to sailing to expand his church responsibilities into secular areas once they made landfall. As Gaston's sole agent with the fleet, de Perpignan was isolated and virtually powerless. Brussard hoped to exploit that situation to his advantage. If he could get the bishop indebted to him, it would further strengthen his position.

 

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