Colonel Keyser is the officer responsible to me for the conduct of this case, I will ask him to explain what he has discovered.' He looked at the colonel. 'Would you please be kind enough to enlighten these gentlemen?'
'Certainly, Your Excellency, it will be my duty and privilege.' Keyser leaned across the table and touched the mysterious object under the beaded velvet cloth. All their eyes went to it. Teasingly, Keyser removed his hand and leaned back in his chair again.
'Let me first ask you, Mijnheer Courtney, if at any time during the last three months any of the wagons belonging to you and your brother,' he nodded at Dorian, 'left the colony.'
Tom pondered a moment, then turned to his brother. 'I don't remember that happening, do you, Dorry?'
None of our vehicles received VOC permission to leave the colony.' Dorian begged the question neatly.
Once again Keyser leaned forward, but this time he whipped away the velvet cloth and they all stared at the broken stub of the wheel spoke. 'Is that your company cypher branded into the wood?'
'Where did you find it?' Tom asked ingenuously.
'An officer of the VOC found it lying beside the tracks of four wagons that left the colony near the headwaters of the Gariep river and headed north into the wilderness.'
Tom shook his head. 'I cannot explain it.' He tugged his beard. 'Can you, Dorian?'
'In March last year we sold one of the old lumber wagons to that Hottentot hunter, what was his name? Oompie? He said he was going to find ivory in the desert lands.'
'My sacred oath!' Tom exclaimed. 'I had forgotten that.'
'Did you get a receipt for the sale?' Keyser looked frustrated.
'Old Oompie cannot write,' Dorian murmured.
'So, then, let us get this clear. You never travelled with four heavily laden wagons to the borders of the colony, and you did not hand these wagons over to the fugitive from justice, James Courtney. And you never encouraged and abetted this runaway to flee the borders of the colony without VOC sanction. Is that what you are telling me?'
That is correct.' Tom looked him steadily in the eyes across the table. Keyser grinned with triumph and glanced at Governor van de Witten for permission to continue. He nodded his agreement, and Keyser clapped his hands again. The double doors swung open and two uniformed VOC corporals entered, dragging between them a human figure.
For a moment neither Tom nor Dorian recognized him. He wore only a pair of breeches that were filthy with dried blood and his own excrement. The nails had been plucked from his toes and fingers with blacksmith's tongs. His back had taken the lash until it was a bloody pulp. His face was swollen grotesquely. One eye was closed completely, and the other a mere slit in the bloated purple flesh.
'A pretty sight.' Keyser smiled. Governor van de Witten held a small sachet of dried herbs and flower petals to his nose. 'I beg your pardon, Your Excellency.' Keyser noticed the gesture. 'Animals must be treated as such.' He turned back to Tom. 'You know this man, of course. He is one of your wagon drivers.'
'Sonnie!' Tom started up, then thought better of it and sank back into his chair. Dorian looked distressed. Sonnie was one of their best men, when he was sober. He had been missing from High Weald for over a week, and they had presumed that he had gone off on one of his periodic binges, from which he always returned reeking of bhang, cheap
brandy and even cheaper women, but chastened, apologetic and swearing on the grave of his father that it would not happen again.
'Ah, yes!' Keyser said. 'You do know him. He has been telling us interesting details of your movements, and those of your family. He says that last September two of your wagons led by Mijnheer Dorian Courtney's son, Mansur, set off along the coastal road to the north. This I can substantiate, because I led a full troop of my own men to follow those wagons. I now know that this was a diversion to draw my attention away from the other matters of more consequence.' Keyser looked at Dorian. 'I am sad that a fine lad like Mansur should have become embroiled in this sordid affair. He also must face the consequence of his actions.' It was said lightly, but the threat was undisguised.
Both Courtney brothers remained silent. Tom could not look at Sonnie, lest he lose his temper and self-control. Sonnie was a free spirit who, despite his multitudinous failings, stood high in his affections, and Tom felt paternally responsible for him.
Keyser turned his attention back to Tom. This man has also told us that soon after the two decoy wagons left High Weald, and when you were sure that my troops had followed them, you and Mevrouw Courtney slipped away with four other heavily loaded wagons, a large number of horses and other animals to the Gariep river. You waited there for some weeks, and eventually your son, James Courtney, and the escaped female prisoner came out of the mountains to join you. You handed over the wagons and the animals to them. They made good their escape into the wilderness, and you returned with assumed innocence to the colony.'
Keyser leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands over the buckle of his sword belt. The room was silent, until Sonnie blurted out, 'I am sorry, Klebe.' His voice was indistinct for his lips were cut and crusted with half- healed scabs, and there were black holes in the front of his mouth where two of his front teeth had been knocked out. 'I did not want to tell them, but they beat me. They said they would kill me, then do the same to my children.'
'It is not your fault, Sonnie. You only did what any man would do.'
Keyser smiled and inclined his head towards Tom. 'You are magnanimous, Mijnheer. If I were in your place I would not be so understanding.'
Governor van de Witten intervened: 'Can we be rid of this fellow now, Colonel?' he asked irritably. 'His stink is atrocious, and he is dripPing blood and other less salubrious fluids on to my floor.'
(The 1 ;
I beg your pardon, Your Excellency. He has served his purpose.' He nodded at the uniformed warders and waved them away. They dragged Sonnie out through the doors, and closed them as they left.
'If you set bail for him, I will pay it and take that poor wretch back to High Weald with me,' Tom said.
'That presupposes that the two of you are going back to High Weald,' Keyset pointed out. 'But, alas, even if you were, I could not allow you to take the witness with you. He must remain in the castle dungeons until your son James and the escaped prisoner are brought to trial in front of the governor.' He unclasped his fingers and leaned forward. The smile faded and his expression became hard, his eyes cold and fierce. 'And until your own part in these matters has been made clear.'
'Are you arresting us?' Tom asked. 'On the unsubstantiated testimony of a Hottentot wagon driver?' Tom looked at Governor van de Witten. 'Your Excellency, under article 152 of the Criminal Procedure Act, laid down by the governors in Amsterdam, no slave or native may give evidence against a free burgher of the colony.'
'You have missed your vocation, Mijnheer. Your grasp of the law is impressive.' Van de Witten nodded. 'Thank you for bringing the Act to my attention.1 He stood up and walked on those thin black-hosed legs to the stained-glass windows. He folded his arms over his pigeon chest and stared out at the bay. 'I see both your ships have returned to port.'
Neither brother answered this remark. It was superfluous. The two Courtney vessels were clearly visible from where he stood, lying at anchor off the foreshore. They had come into the bay in convoy two days previously, and had not yet offloaded. The Maid of York and the Gift of Allah were lovely schooners. They had been built in the yards at Trincomalee to Tom's own design. They were fast and handy, with shallow draught and well armed, perfect for inshore work, trading into estuaries and the shallows of a dangerous and hostile coast.
Sarah had been born in York and Tom had named one vessel for her. Dorian and Yasmini had chosen the name for the other ship.
'A lucrative voyage?' van de Witten asked. 'Or so I hear.'
Tom smiled thinly. 'We thank the Lord for what we have had, but for a little more we would be glad.'
Van de Witten acknowledged the witticism with an acidic smile, and returned to his chair. 'You ask if you are under arrest. The answer, Mijnheer Courtney, is no.' He shook his head. 'You are a pillar of our small society, a gentleman of the highest reputation, industrious and hard-working. You pay your taxes. Technically you are not a free Dutch burgher, but a citizen of a foreign nation. However, you pay your residence-licence fees and, as such, you are entitled to the equivalent rights of a burgher. I would not even think of arresting you.' It was clear from Colonel Keyser's expression that in fact deep consideration had been given to the possibility.
'Thank you, Your Excellency.' Tom rose to his feet, and Dorian followed his example. 'Your good opinion means a great deal to us.'
'Please, Mijn heeren!' Van de Witten held up his hand to delay them. 'There are some other small matters that we should discuss before you go.' They sat down again.
'I would not want either of you, or any member of your family, to leave the colony without my express permission until this matter is fully resolved. That includes your son, Mansur Courtney, who was responsible for deliberately drawing out a troop of the VOC cavalry on a fruitless
