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  * * *

  “I must be getting old," Karl thought, trudging through the gathering dusk to his home. “Only two beers, and Magda won’t even be surprised I’m early and sober. I’ve been home early every night the past two weeks.” He sighed. “Just an old married man.” He opened the door to the small house he and his wife, Magda, shared with their son, Johann and his family.

  “ Farfar !” He was instantly mobbed by his four oldest grandchildren. The youngest sat in a cradle near the fireplace just watching the scene. Magda looked up from her cooking. “Children, let your grandfather get in the door before you pester him." She kissed Karl with a full spoon in her hand, "Dinner will be ready as soon as Johann finishes at the shop.” She tasted the stew and then continued to stir the pot. The stew’s aroma had Karl’s mouth watering. She gave Karl the look every wife had when she knew something was up. “I hear there was some excitement this afternoon among the refugees. Anything important happen?”

  “No, just someone posted broadsides about free land. Can you imagine, the fools actually thought someone would give them free land?” He reached into his tunic and pulled out a rumpled paper. “Here’s a copy. Some people will believe anything.”

  Magda read the broadside and frowned. “Too bad you’re too old to start farming and the land is so far away. We could turn the house over to Johann." Karl looked at her like she had lost her mind, but Magda continued with a twinkle in her eye. "Then they would have enough room, especially since Bergitte just found out she’s expecting again!”

  Karl's jaw dropped, “Does Johann know yet?”

  “No. Bergitte plans to tell him when he gets home tonight. And don't you dare let the cat out of the bag beforehand!”

  “This calls for a celebration. I’ll get the akvavit from the cabinet.”

  Karl headed to the storage closet, and Magda turned to toss the broadside into the fire. She paused instead, folded the paper and tucked it into her apron, a thoughtful expression on her face.

  * * *

  The next day dawned cold and cloudy with a hint of precipitation to come. Winter was not far off. Luke finished the last of his breakfast, then sighed, contented. “Mette McDermott, I can’t remember when I’ve eaten so well!”

  “You must be getting old, Captain. You’ve already forgotten you said the same thing yesterday.” Smiling, Mette picked up Luke’s dishes and headed toward the kitchen.

  While the buxom, blonde widow retreated into the kitchen, Luke realized that he felt better than he had in years. Ever since his trip to Grantville, where he saw his “obituary” in the history books, his attitude on life had changed. Knowing when and how one was supposed to die tended to change one’s focus on life. If he could cheat death, anything seemed possible, even starting a family. Now where did that idea come from?

  Muttering to himself about crazy old men who should know better, Luke looked up when Svend entered the room. “Are you ready? We have a busy day. We’ll head to the ship and get my books and papers for the meeting. I want you and Mr. Barrow to come with me.” Luke picked up his boat cape. He needed to concentrate on the upcoming meeting, but the retreating image of Mette McDermott stayed with him.

  As they walked to his ship, the familiar sea smells on the morning air set Luke to thinking about the planned voyage. There were still serious questions to resolve for the planned expedition. He had heard from other sea captains about the problems that had beset the Roanoke, Jamestown, and Plymouth expeditions and he wanted to avoid their disasters. Those expeditions had tried to get by on half measures and, inevitably, ended up on half rations. If investors could be convinced to actually start a colony on a firm footing, the long term payoff should justify the cost. Four or five seaworthy vessels of at least eighty tons each should meet the initial shipping needs. They would carry not only settlers, but adequate food supplies, tools and trade goods. His ship, the Köbenhavn, would serve as one of two main ships to carry colonists. He wanted two other ships to carry the soldiers, equipment, and enough food to last until a harvest could be brought in. A fifth ship would carry livestock, grain and trade goods. They would need to be well armed, too. His Köbenhavn ’s armament consisted of eight cannon and the livestock ship could carry six more cannon. After they arrived, four could be unloaded for the defense of the colony. Along with forty arquebuses, powder, and shot, that should deter any but the most determined attackers. Trade goods to acquire the needed land from the natives should make for good relations with the new neighbors. They would also need at least one resupply of food with the second group of settlers, in case there were crop failures the first year. He’d have to make sure that group left early enough to avoid the tremendous storm the history books said would strike in the fall. Maybe he should mention it at the meeting. He hadn’t heard any rumors about it yet. Something large enough to drown over fifteen thousand people surely would have generated some gossip!

  The short walk to the Köbenhavn went quickly. Luke came out of his reverie as they arrived and he checked the rigging for any problems. A lifetime at sea had made that check second nature. His first officer, John Barrow, was efficient, as usual. All yards were squared off and the running and standing riggings showed no sign of excessive wear or stretching. The Köbenhavn was two hundred tons, painted black with a white strake, and was only two years old. It was the best ship he’d ever commanded. Sir Thomas had purchased her specifically for the expedition and refitted her with some new features based on the nautical writings Luke had found in Grantville. When Luke and Svend boarded, John Barrow met them at the entry port.

  “Morning, Captain. I have your papers for the meeting in your cabin, just as you requested.”

  “Good! And by the way, you’ll be going with us, John." John scowled at the news. His dislike of meetings was legendary, but Luke insisted. "You’ll need to know our decisions and reasoning behind them, first hand, and I may need your expertise. You’re the best man I know at loading cargo, and there are bound to be questions with all the equipment and supplies we have to take. Svend will be along to help carry the papers and books.” Luke gestured to the low, gray clouds. “It looks like it might snow soon, so let’s be off.”

  Just before they reached their destination, the prediction came true and a fine snow started to fall. John looked disgusted. “Hope the meeting goes quickly, Captain. These cobblestones will be slick if we get much snow.”

  “I’m afraid we’re going to be a while today. Sir Thomas’ note hinted that things were moving faster than we originally planned. I want you to speak up if you have any ideas or you catch anything that I miss.”

  John rapped on the door with the pommel of his knife. When the doorman answered, he announced, “Captain Luke Foxe and party to see Sir Thomas.”

  The doorman bowed and gestured for them to enter. “You are expected, sirs. The other gentlemen are here already.”

  They were greeted by a crackling fire in the brick fireplace of the study. Five men arose as they entered.

  Sir Thomas made the introductions. “Captain Foxe, thank you for being so prompt. You know Saul and Reuben Abrabanel. And this is Adolphus Bamberg, the local factor for the House of Cavriani.” The fifth guest was pointedly ignored.

  “Gentlemen, Captain Luke Foxe, his first officer, John Barrow, and their clerk.” Svend quietly placed the papers he was carrying on the table as Sir Thomas asked Luke, “What can you tell us about the ships you’ve found?”

  Luke paused to pick up a list from the pile of papers. “Based on the number of passengers and amount of equipment that are needed for the first expedition, I calculate that we will need almost seven hundred tons of carrying capacity. The Köbenhavn, of course, and I’ve located four other ships that I feel meet our needs. Captain Thomas James, with his Henriette Marie, already has experience with Hudson’s Bay. We’ve known each other for a number of years. He would be my recommendation as the second in command of this expedition. His ship and mine would carry most of the colonists. Captain Lars Johannso
n with his 90-ton Kristina, would carry the expedition’s livestock and trade goods. Captain Jan de Puyter of the 150-ton Wilhelm and Captain Martin Rheinwald of the 120-ton Hamburg would carry some settlers, provisions, weapons, soldiers and equipment. This assumes that we are still looking at the planned numbers and leave in March. Captains Johannson and Rheinwald each have a charter to Luebeck to complete before they are ready to sail, but they’ll be back in Copenhagen by mid-February.”

  Reuben and Saul whispered together for a moment, and looked toward Sir Thomas, who nodded agreement. Saul said, “This group is eminently satisfactory, Captain Foxe. We are on track with our plans for recruiting settlers and your recommendation for Captain James as your deputy coincides with our thoughts. March will fit our time frame.” He gave the unnamed guest a quick glance, who gave a barely perceptible nod. “Now that we have decided on our ships, we need to discuss the details to make this expedition successful.”

  A loud rumble sounded from across the room. Svend started to blush. “I’m sorry, Captain. I was so busy this morning, I missed lunch.”

  Sir Thomas laughed. “A young man needs his meals. Why don’t you see my cook? She usually has something to eat. The doorman will take you to the kitchen.”

  Svend beat an embarrassed retreat.

  After the door closed Luke shook his head in amazement, “Thank you for being so understanding. I still remember what it was like as a young sailor, hungry all the time. He’ll probably be happier there than listening to our boring discussions.”

  The group settled down to examine the details of the expedition. The Abrabanels were obviously concerned about the costs for provisions Luke had included in the plan. Saul opened a small ledger book and paged down with his finger. “I see where you want to provide provisions for all settlers for a full year. Surely, you’ll have some deaths that will reduce that amount?”

  Luke was appalled at Saul’s callous remark, until he realized Saul was simply trying to force him to really look at his calculation for provisions. “We probably will have some, but we will also have some births. We will also have losses due to rats and accidents. I want to make sure we don’t have any deaths from starvation. People fighting to just stay alive don’t make the best miners and builders.” Luke refused to budge and after repeatedly reminding them of the problems others had encountered with sparse provisions, they finally admitted Luke’s provision list looked right.

  The mention of deaths reminded Luke about the fall storm. “We’ll have to make sure the second expedition sails on time. The research I did contained numerous hints that the western coast will be devastated by a huge storm in October. Nordstrand Island is just about wiped off the map and over fifteen thousand people will drown along the western coast.”

  Sir Thomas looked aghast. “What are you saying? Don’t you mean the storm that struck in 1627?”

  “No, this one will be worse than that. You mean you hadn’t heard?” All three men shook their heads emphatically no. “Well, maybe you need to mention it to the King the next time you meet with him. I’m sure he would appreciate the warning. I know that if I hadn’t been looking in all the books, I wouldn’t have noticed it. I doubt anyone else has.”

  Sir Thomas looked pensive. “I’m certain he will. Not a breath of this has been whispered about in the court gossip. I’m sure this will be an unpleasant surprise, but appreciated none the less.”

  Always fast with a plan, Reuben turned to Sir Thomas. “While you’re at it, see if he would be interested in encouraging the people that will be affected to emigrate. Moving to a new land would certainly be preferable to drowning. It would solve our problem of getting a large number of settlers and he might even pay us!” Sir Thomas made a note to ensure he remembered.

  Reuben then questioned the amount and types of trade goods included in the inventory. He passed a list to Luke for items that might be added and eliminated. After studying the list, Luke agreed that the additions probably should have been included. He did comment, “I think the trade goods shoes may be too much. My experience is that the natives prefer their own style of footwear.” The items to be eliminated were haggled over until both men felt equally uncomfortable with the result. A hard bargaining session on military supplies brought occasional comments from Sir Thomas and Factor Bamberg, but Luke noticed that the Abrabanels seemed to be Sir Thomas’ experts. The source for the military supplies was one area that Bamberg seemed uncomfortable with, but he wouldn’t elaborate as to why. After almost two hours, the discussion started to wind down. Then, a casual question concerning mineral rights started a heated debate between the Abrabanels, Bamberg, and Sir Thomas.

  Luke nudged John, who was trying desperately to stay awake, “Why don’t you see how Svend is doing? I think I can spare you for a while. Hopefully, we should be done here soon. I’ll need him to help with the items we’ll carry back to the ship.”

  “Thank you, sir!”

  John quietly left the room. He spotted the doorman who had greeted them, cleaning and polishing some candlesticks, walked over and asked, “The young gentleman who came with us, can you show me to him?”

  “Certainly, sir. He and Mistress Roe are in the kitchen with the cook.”

  The reply startled John. “Is she Sir Thomas’ daughter?”

  “Heavens, no! She’s his ward. Her parents were his cousins. They died of the plague and Sir Thomas was her only living relative. She arrived on his doorstep during his last trip to England. I’m not sure he knows what to make of a young girl in his household. The cook is really who’s raising her. Sir Thomas never had any children of his own. Since his wife died last year, she’s the only close family he has left”

  They squeezed through a narrow servant’s hall that was still packed with some of the recently arrived furniture. The doorman ushered him into the kitchen. “Matilda will see you back when you’re done. I have to return to my work.”

  A cherubic faced, matronly figure in an apron peered out of a cloud of flour. “Come to fetch the young master? He’s been very well mannered. Mistress Roe will be disappointed that he’s leaving. She doesn’t get many visitors her age.”

  The cloud of flour she’d raised billowed along as she walked through it to fetch the youngsters. A moment later, they returned. The two youngsters were holding an animated conversation in whispers. Svend clutched a small book tightly in his hands and nodded every time the small, dark-haired girl made some point.

  “Agnes, this is Captain Foxe’s first officer, John Barrow. Mr. Barrow, may I present Agnes Roe, a cousin of Sir Thomas,” Svend said.

  Agnes made a short curtsey and John bowed deeply. “My pleasure, ma’am. I come as a bearer of sad tidings. Svend’s duties call. We will be leaving shortly and he must return to the library.” Svend was downcast, but Agnes looked like a lost puppy. “Don’t worry; I’m sure Svend will be back soon. The meeting’s gone well and I expect the captain will send him by with messages from time to time.”

  They visibly perked up. Svend quickly promised, “I’ll make sure to get your book back next week, even if the captain doesn’t have an errand for me.”

  “Do you think he’ll let me visit the ship? I would dearly like to tour your ship!”

  John said, “Your ship? I didn’t know Sir Thomas had sold her to you. The captain will be interested to hear this. Does this mean a raise for everyone?”

  Svend blushed furiously. The hero worship in Agnes’ gaze warned John to go easy on the boy. He recognized the signs of young love. He quickly replied, “I’m sure a tour can be arranged.” With a flourish, he chivvied Svend out of the kitchen and back to the meeting.

  When they arrived, John glanced through the crack in the door to see if the meeting was done. The mood in the room didn’t seem promising. Sir Thomas stood by the fireplace, talking pointedly to Saul and Reuben. “My other investors have no problem with your proposal, Saul, but Captain Foxe is not familiar with it." The anonymous visitor stiffened noticeably. John started to clear his throat
to announce their return but then stopped, having sensed the tension. He motioned Svend to stay where he was.

  Sir Thomas continued. “Luke, As I understand, from time to time you may have settlers or others that need to be transported on short notice or have need of the goods we may be selling. The gentlemen here will be Adolphus’ contact for those needs,” Sir Thomas said. "What do you think, Luke?”

  “Before I agree, may I ask who the other member of your party is?” Luke said.

  Reuben deferred to Saul. “Let us just say he is from southern Germany and is traveling with us. If anyone asks you, he was never here. Rest assured, he supports our efforts and has significant influence in certain ‘Swedish’ circles. At this time, he is only here to bring news of our negotiations to the appropriate parties,” Saul answered.

  Once more, Luke was perplexed by the odd statements and then it hit. “You’re from Grantville, aren’t you?” The gentleman just smiled. “Forgive my interruption. The question was unnecessary.” Many things fell into place. It seemed that Sir Thomas had established some contacts with Grantville outside of official channels. While the Danish and Swedish governments were technically at war and might not agree to the other party’s support the proposed settlement, people with money and knowledge to help make a go of it were in support. In the long run, that might be even better. Full funding and full rations would go a long way toward a successful settlement, but support from both camps of the current belligerents might be even better. Future trading partners were an added plus. Luke thought for a moment, and then made his decision. “I agree to the proposal. As long as the passengers are not prominent Danish criminals, I should have no problems with transporting them. As for future trade, I hope we have a lot of what he wants!"

  Sir Thomas noticed John and Svend waiting outside and motioned for them to enter. "I think that settles our last issue. We’ll meet again, once the miners arrive.”

  The Grantville visitor added a last comment. “Don’t take too long. Things could get very interesting come spring. The war could heat up quickly once the thaw sets in.” No one seemed surprised by the comment.