Hayry, with Hal at his side, burst into whatever conversation was going on. Quickly, he related den Ouden’s story to Gustavus. When he finished, Gustavus rose to his feet, his face puzzled.
“This man gave you no reason why a farm boy should suddenly decide to spend the night smashing our wagon wheels, did he?”
“No,” Hayry answered. Hal nodded.
“And there is still the matter of a murdered guard and a missing guard,” Gustavus went on. “We’ll have questions for this boy when we catch him. The farm shouldn’t be too hard to find.”
“You most certainly will not,” roared Tewes. “You are in Nieuw Netherlands, merchant, not in New Sweden or out past the Delaware where no one cares what you do. My guards administer the law here, not yours.”
Hayry retorted, “If your guards could administer anything more complicated than a mug of beer, this situation would never have happened.”
Tewes pointed a finger at Hayry’s face. “I have a good mind to charge you with slandering the Guard. We’ll see how you talk after you spend the winter in our jail.”
“I’d like to see you try to charge me with anything.” By the time Hayry finished the sentence, his sword was clear of its sheath. “I’ll bet the only charge you make is to the rear.”
Tewes did back up although Hal suspected that a lunge from Hayry would probably cross the room. The two guards with him spread out, although they did not draw their weapons. Hal edged backward slowly, scarcely daring to breathe, trying to feel for the doorway behind him. There was a sick feeling in his gut, a sense they were on the verge of something awful.
“You will stop this now!” Gustavus ordered. Although he had not shouted as loudly as Tewes, the edge in his voice froze everyone in place. “That’s enough nonsense. Tewes, you aren’t going to charge Captain Hayry, or any of us, with anything. Try it and your own government will string you up for the trouble you’ll cause with Nya Sverige. Am I understood?”
Tewes nodded grudgingly.
“Good. Now, about this boy. I assume that what you meant by that outburst was that, in this area, if anyone is to be picked up for questioning, your men should do it. Is that correct?”
“It is,” Tewes said. “Your men have no authority beyond guarding your own wagons.”
“I see. Then will you give me your word that your men will find this boy, which should not be hard, and bring him here for questioning? It will be completely unsatisfactory if you tell me that you found him and he confessed and then he died for some reason or other. I must see him alive and if I do not, you will be the one to pay for it.”
“Be assured, Gustavus. We will bring him here.”
“Alive and in condition to talk.”
“Yes. That is agreed.”
“Good. Then you are dismissed.” Gustavus left the room without waiting to see what Tewes did, taking Hayry with him. Tewes aimed a glare at Hal, then gathered his men and left as well.
The remainder of the day seemed to drag endlessly. Slade was in a foul mood, and trying to catch up on his chores had Hal running around the inn with no time for lunch. Busy as he was, he watched for Tewes to return with the unlucky farm boy, but by nightfall not one of the guards had returned to the inn, with or without a captive. Dinner also came and went and the inn settled down for the night before Hal was finished with his duties. He did manage to talk Mrs. Slade into leaving a portion for him in the kitchen so that he would not go to bed hungry. Unfortunately, that also meant eating it in the kitchen. Mary was there, naturally, and she sat down at the table with him. When Hal did not respond to her chatter, she just sat there and watched him eat. Hal bolted his food down in order to get out quickly. He took the mug of beer Mrs. Slade had left him and looked for a quiet place to drink it. The front room seemed like a good choice. Normally, of course, he was not supposed to sit there, where he would take up space intended for paying guests. It was late, though, and the room appeared empty, so he doubted Slade would mind too much.
He gave a sigh of relief as he settled into the armchair by the fire. It was pleasant to sit there with his feet up, drinking his beer and feeling the fire’s heat across his face. Almost immediately, he began to doze, until the sound of footsteps brought him awake again. He came to his feet quickly, readying an explanation for Old Jack, but it was not Slade—it was Johanna. She seemed as surprised to see him as he was to see her. Hal couldn’t think of anything to say.
Johanna saved him from an awkward silence. “I’m glad to find you,” she said. “I was actually thinking of looking for you.”
“You were?”
“Yes. I want to know what’s happening and nobody will talk to me. Father won’t say anything and Captain Hayry is even worse. I understand you were out with Captain Hayry earlier. Do you know what’s happening?”
“I’m not sure,” Hal said. “How much do you know?”
“Not much. Oh, I know about the wagons. And I heard there was some kind of argument with the Provis. That’s about all.”
Hal told her of den Ouden’s information about Billy Johnson, then about the scene at the inn when Hayry had come to see Gustavus. Johanna frowned at the last part.
“Captain Hayry actually had his sword out?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Tewes is very lucky.” She shook her head. “Hayry has killed in duels. He is a dangerous swordsman.”
“Since he’s in charge of your father’s guards, I would assume that,” Hal said.
Johanna giggled. “Yes, you should, shouldn’t you?” Then she turned serious again. “Hal, do you think there’s any danger? I wanted to sail to Nieuw Amsterdam to begin with. My father said he had to be with the wagons and he didn’t want me to travel alone and, anyway, it was a perfectly safe trip. I thought the only time that might be risky was when we were out across the Delaware, but now this happens here.”
Her eyes were wide and bright. Her hands were clasped together so tightly that white showed at the fingertips. Part of his mind said he should walk over and hug her. Another part of his mind, however, was afraid to touch her, perhaps even more afraid that someone would see him touch her. He stood, rooted to the one spot on the floor.
“I can’t see any danger to you,” he managed to say. In his own ears, his voice sounded like it was croaking. “Your father has a large number of men with him and they’re led by a rather dangerous fighter, as I think you just told me. Nothing can happen.”
Evidently, his words were enough because she released her hands and her smile came back. “Thank you, Hal.” She didn’t walk over to kiss him, or touch his arm, or any of the things that he was hoping she’d do. She just smiled at him and went upstairs. Still, Hal thought, perhaps John was right. Maybe she did like him.
12
First Blood
IT WAS SNOWING the next morning when Hal went out to bring in the firewood. It was not coming down very heavily, just feathery touches on his hair and the back of his neck, but there was already a new coating of white over the woodpile. The snow didn’t bother him much. The only real problem was taking care not to track it through the inn or shed it from his coat or whatever he was carrying. That would raise the ire of Mrs. Slade. A snowstorm had advantages, too. It made most of the outdoor work impossible and that reduced the amount of work that Hal had to do. That would be a blessing after the heavy load of the previous day. With everyone cooped up inside, it also seemed possible that he would have a chance to see Johanna again. That was an extra bit of luck a snowy day might bring. He did not think it would bring any further news about Gustavus’ wagons. Tewes and his Provi guards had not returned at all the previous day. Hal doubted they would come in the snow.
During the inn’s breakfast, though, when Gustavus and most of his retinue were seated in the dining hall, a loud clatter came from the direction of the main entrance, accompanied by a series of shouts. Hal was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, so he was at the entrance ahead of everyone else. He found Tewes and four of his men there,
shouting for Slade and Gustavus. Two guards held the slumping form of a boy between them. The boy was thin, with a shock of brown hair and a smooth face marred by a bruise under his right eye. Hal figured him for fourteen, fifteen at the most. Despite the cold, he was dressed in only a thin shirt over his pants. His bloody feet were bare.
“You, tavern boy!” Tewes shouted when he caught sight of Hal. “You find Gustavus and tell him we’ve got his farm boy.” A whiff of alcohol accompanied the words.
Hal grimaced at the insult but said nothing. Instead, he ran back to the dining hall with the news. That brought a crowd into the hallway: Gustavus and Hayry, of course, along with Old Jack Slade and John. Hal came back with the group; no one had told him to come but, then, no one had said not to either. Tewes and his men were still standing where Hal had left them, but had dropped the boy to the floor. He kneeled there in front of them. From that position, Hal could see that his hands were tied behind him with cord.
“All right, Gustavus,” Tewes shouted just as loudly as he had before. “I’ve got your farm boy. He is quite alive and able to talk.”
“My congratulations on your capture.” Tewes seemed to miss the thinly veiled sarcasm in Gustavus’ voice. Gustavus walked over to stand next to the boy. He looked skeptical. “Is your name Billy Johnson?”
“Yes, sir.” The boy sat back on his heels so he could look up at Gustavus.
There was a deep frown on Gustavus’ face. “Did you break the wheels on my wagons?”
“No, sir, I didn’t.” The voice was soft but the words flew out in rapid supplication. “I didn’t break no wheels of yours, no sir, nor anybody else’s. I didn’t. I didn’t.”
“Liar!” Tewes grabbed a handful of the boy’s hair and yanked his head up. Then he swung a roundhouse blow with his open hand into Billy’s face. It was like hitting him with a plank. The force of the blow knocked him over backward and, unable to use his hands to break his fall, he struck his head against the stone floor.
Billy made no move to get up. He just lay there and started to sob quietly. Tewes reached down and grabbed Billy’s hair again, yanking him upright.
“You’re a liar, boy. Don’t think you can sit here and deny that you did it. Now, tell them!”
Billy did nothing but cry. The tears mixed with a thin line of blood trickling from his mouth. Tewes raised his hand to strike again.
“Hold a moment.” That was Gustavus. The hand came back down without hitting. “Tewes, even for a fool, you are fairly dense.”
“What do you mean?” Tewes growled.
There was some nervous movement backward among the people in the hallway. To Hal, it seemed that Gustavus might have goaded the burly Provi too far this time.
“Look at the boy,” Gustavus said, appearing unconcerned. “Do you really think that this child is capable of causing all that damage? Could he have killed our men as well? Hayry, what do you think?”
“I agree with you, herrn. He looks as though he could barely lift a sledge, much less swing one effectively.”
“Are you saying now,” Tewes asked, “that this boy had nothing to do with it?”
“I didn’t say that at all,” Gustavus replied. “Only that he could not have done it by himself. He may have been a lookout or a helper. There are others involved.”
Tewes thought that over. “Aye,” he said slowly. “There may have been others. No matter. We’ll have the names out of him before the morning is over.”
“Not here, Captain! Not here,” Jack Slade broke in as Tewes reached for the boy again. “This is an inn, not a jail. We have women and children here. If you’re going to question him, take him someplace else.”
Tewes actually grinned at that. “Just like a merchant. You want the results but you don’t want to do it or see it. No matter. Jenkins!” A thin guard with a scraggly black beard and pasty complexion stepped forward. “You and the others, take this boy out to the barn and find out what he knows. Come find me here when you’re finished.” The four guards picked up Billy Johnson and carried him out into the snow. “Innkeeper! Why don’t you bring me some beer while we wait? And you, merchant, will you join me?”
Gustavus demurred. “It’s too early in the day for me to start drinking.”
Tewes did not seem disappointed. Instead, he turned to Slade. “All right, Slade, will you join the Captain of the Guard in sampling some of your own beer?”
“Of course, Captain,” Slade answered. “If you’ll follow me?”
As soon as Tewes was gone Hal said, “This is no good.”
“What?” Gustavus seemed more surprised at the source of the comment than the words.
“I said this is no good. I don’t know if Billy did it or not, but you won’t find out this way. They’ll just beat him until he says whatever names come into his head, or they’ll wind up killing him and they’ll come back and tell you he wouldn’t talk. You won’t know any more than you do now.”
“What you say makes sense, Hal,” Gustavus said, “but there are not many alternatives. I cannot take the boy away from Tewes. He must be careful not to interfere with me, but there are also limits on how far I can push him. That would be too far.”
“Then somebody should watch what happens,” Hal said. “That way, they can’t tell you whatever story they like and get away with it.”
“If I send someone to watch, they will simply take him back to the guardhouse. I cannot send anyone in there.”
Hal decided he could not give up. That boy was going to be beaten to death. “Then don’t send one of your men. It could be someone who has reason to be in the barn.” He turned to John Slade. “That sword you lent me the other day, John, remember I told you it needed to be cleaned and sharpened?” John nodded. “All the tools are in the barn. I could take it over there and do the work.”
Gustavus’ eyes narrowed and he fixed them on Hal’s face for a moment. “You could, indeed,” he said. “But let me give you a little advice first. Take the sword and the tools in case anybody sees you, but it would be much better if you can arrange not to be seen. Also, don’t get any fancy ideas with that sword. There are four of them. Even if you beat them all, which you won’t, you won’t help anyone by doing it.”
Hal ran up the stairs to get the sword from under his bed, where he had put it after returning from his ride with Johanna. He drew it out to look at it in the dim light of the room. He was breathing hard, whether from his run up the stairs or from the thought of fighting with the sword, he was not sure. Gustavus is right, he told himself. There is nothing to do except to find out what happens there. Don’t be a fool. Don’t waste time, either. He sheathed the sword and raced back downstairs.
Outside, the snow had intensified. It was falling so heavily that he could barely make out the outline of the main barn from the back door of the inn. There were at least three more inches on the ground than there had been when he had gone out for the firewood.
He walked to the barn in complete silence. No one else was outside, no fresh tracks that he could see. Even the tracks made by the guards had mostly filled with new snow. He hesitated at the main entrance to the barn. If he walked through that door, he was sure to be seen. He wondered if the guards would kill him if he saw something they wanted hidden. Bad time to have thoughts like that! He suppressed a shiver and turned away from the main door. There was another door around the side to the left. It was built for people, not horses, and led to the alcove where the tools were kept. If he had actually been going to sharpen the sword, that would have been the door he used in any case.
He held his breath when he opened the door, but it did not squeak. He had to grin at that, in spite of the situation. Just three days before, he had been annoyed with Slade for insisting he oil the hinges.
The tool alcove was separated from the main section of the barn by a neck-high wooden partition that ran three-quarters of the barn’s width. A work bench was nailed to the partition and tools were hung above the bench. Shouts, laughter and a splashi
ng noise came from the central area of the barn. Hal crouched and slipped across the alcove, unseen from the other side. When he reached the partition’s end, he held his breath and peered around it.
The guards had dragged a trough into the center of the floor and found some dirty water to fill it. Three of them held the Johnson boy by the legs. They picked him up and dunked his head under the water, laughing while he struggled. Then, they pulled him back and laughed some more while he gasped for air. One of them yelled at him to tell them the names of his accomplices but, before he could possibly answer, they dunked him again. Hal gritted his teeth, sickened. Getting information seemed to be the last thing on their minds.
The guard named Jenkins watched the proceedings from a few feet away, his back to the main door. He seemed to find it all very funny because he was laughing the whole time. One of the guards yelled, “Let’s have a name now, boy!” and immediately pushed Johnson’s head under the water. “I can’t hear you through the bubbles!” Jenkins threw his head back and roared again with laughter.
Suddenly, while Hal was watching Jenkins laugh, a gout of blood flew out of Jenkins’ mouth. That same instant, Hal saw the arrow that had passed through Jenkins’ neck, its point emerging where his Adam’s apple had been. Jenkins raised his hands to touch the arrow, then toppled over dead. Another arrow flew across the barn, but the guard it was targeted for had jerked around when Jenkins’ laughter was cut off, so the arrow stuck harmlessly in the wall. In the same instant, the main door was yanked open and three men charged in, swords drawn. They wore woodsranger leathers under cloaks. The guards dropped the boy on the floor and rushed to meet the attackers. Hal stayed where he was and watched the duel develop. With a shock, he realized that one of them was not a man at all. It was Bel. She started in the middle of the three but quickly forced her opponent back and away from the other two with a swift series of attacks. Her skill with the sword was obvious. To her right, Hal recognized Fons ten Eyck. The third woodsranger he had never seen before.
Accidental Warrior: The Unlikely Tale of Bloody Hal Page 12