French, but I think they've been driven out or killed by the Spanish. Raleigh settled some colonists with a man named Lane to head them, but they came back, first chance. Grenville left fifteen men ... all vanished. Killed by Indians or Spaniards, no doubt.'
'Or picked up and gone elsewhere.'
'The Indians ... well, you must be wary of them, lad. Today they will trade, and tomorrow if the notion takes them, they attack. If one gives you his word, it counts for something. But he speaks only for his own people.
'They've no sense of property. Not as we have. In a village each man uses what he needs. When they see something they want, they take it and go.
'Above all, go with no notions about gold. The Spanish found it in Mexico, but the French have not found it anywhere. The gold is to be had in the trading for furs, skins, freshwater pearls, fish and potash. Some of their hardwoods burn with a fine white ash, and there's a need for potash.'
'What should I deal in?'
'Furs. You've only a little stake, so trade with care. Only furs, and only the best. Take second-grade furs and that's all you will ever get. The Indians are not fools. They've lived by barter all their lives, and they know what they want.'
'A handful of beads for a fox-skin does not seem a very good trade for them.'
'Ah, lad! He has plenty of fox-skins, but he has no beads such as ours. The scarcer the article the greater the value. You pay for what you want; so does the Indian.
'Good knives, they have need of them. They'll try for muskets, too, but do not be trading them. Arm them as well as us and they would soon have everything.'
'They'd rob us?'
'Of course, and so would a Dunkirker. Trust no ship at sea, lad. Given a chance there's few of them will not turn pirate ... or privateer, or whatever you wish to call them.'
He motioned for a refill of our tankards. 'We shall sail south, almost to the land of the Spanish men, then north along the coast, trading wherever possible. After that, to some islands off the north coast where fishermen have summer villages to dry and smoke their fish. There we'll refit and buy stores.'
Tempany hoisted his glass, looking from under bushy gray brows at me. 'Lad, have you thought there's more to Genester's hatred of you than what happened in Stamford?'
'Why should there be? We never met before.'
'Agreed. Nor had he seen you or known of you, but think you now: once his anger was gone, would he have bothered unless there was something more?'
'Impossible, Captain. He has wealth, position, all a man could ask. I have nothing but a will to do.'
'Suppose you were a threat to his keeping what he has? Or gaining more?'
'There is no way, Captain. To him I was just an oaf, a country bumpkin whom he believed to be making overtures to his lady.'
'Until his anger led him to discover who you were.'
'I am Barnabas Sackett, no more. I am a man of the fens, who, because his father was a skilled fighting man, holds a bit of land.'
'And to whose father a promise was made.'
'Oh? That! Captain, if indeed such a word was passed, it meant only that he might see me in some post where I could have a living.'
'I agree that was the intention, lad, but things have happened. This man ... he will disclose his name when he sees fit ... lost a son when the Armada attacked. He lost a son in the plague. Suddenly he is no longer young, and finds as his only heir a man, a nephew whom he profoundly dislikes.'
'Genester?'
'Aye.' Tempany took a swallow of the ale and touched his beard with the back of his hand. 'A night came when he was sitting about talking of antiquities, and one of the old friends shows two gold coins and tells their tale.
'Suddenly, the elderly gentleman of whom I speak is hearing again the name of that stalwart who stood above him and fought off the attackers until help came.
'He recalls the stern, honest quality of that man, and now he hears of that man's son. A promise is recalled, and Hasling comments on your enterprise in coming to him, your knowledge of antiquities ... which he probably overrated ... and your difficulties with Genester.'
'Still, I do not—'
Tempany lifted a hand. 'Wait. Hasling had his story to tell, and then I told mine, of the affair at the Globe and returning to find you at my home.
'The gentleman of whom I speak decided the fates were guiding him to a decision. He enjoyed the way you escaped so handily. It indicated presence of mind, and your dumping of Genester on your first meeting brought him to chuckling and wishing he could have seen it.'
'I had a good friend who impeded pursuit. Do not forget that, Captain. But for Corvino—'
'Having such friends is a credit to you. I do not jest, lad. He wishes to meet you.'
'It would be a pleasure, Captain.'
'Aye, but somehow Genester has discovered that. Perhaps from one of the servants. I do not know. Genester's hopes center around the old man. He himself has little, so if the old man should choose to leave his estates to you—'
'That is impossible, Captain.'
'No, not at all. It presents the solution to a problem. He respected your father, and you have shown yourself to be a young man of wit, intelligence and decision, something he was himself, and which he admires. So, before you go further with this trading venture, talk to him.'
'I shall, of course, but I would choose to make my own way, Captain. How many of the titled gentlemen around the Queen have done as much? Raleigh, perhaps.'
'As you will, but meet with him, at least. I shall see him soon. In the meanwhile, be careful.'
The interest of great men is flattering, but I had no faith in such matters. I had found no luck and no opportunity except that I made. Finding the gold—that was luck, but on the other hand, had I not been walking the Dyke home from work I would never have been where the gold was. It did not come to me. I went to it.
'I shall be out of the way for two, maybe three days,' I suggested.
He glanced at me, and I said, 'It is a venture in antiquities, and may come to nothing.'
'Luck to you, then. Be in touch with me when you return. I will arrange the meeting for then.'
When he had gone, I met with Jublain and Corvino. 'I shall need a horse,' I said.
'A horse is easy,' Corvino said. 'Why not three?'
'What I do may come to nothing.'
Jublain shrugged. 'Much of what any of us do comes to nothing, yet I notice that whatever you do has at least an intelligence.'
Quietly, I explained. 'Do not think of treasure,' I warned. 'It may be some simple thing. A pot, a Roman sword, an inscription. We may waste our time.'
'If you go alone,' Jublain said, 'you'll fall into trouble. We shall ride with you.'
We took only the food we needed, and digging tools. The latter we wrapped in a cloak and we rode swiftly. Out of town and long into the countryside, then into the deep woods.
Suddenly Jublain said, 'We are followed, Barnabas.'
Glancing back I saw a lone horseman upon a hill. He was sitting very still, seeming to scan the country.
'Just a chance rider,' I suggested.
'Who turns when we turn? Who stops when we stop?'
'All right then, be prepared.'
Our horses were good, but I had no mind to trust to speed. I had walked through this country before this. The road ahead dipped low between a barn and a walled field. Beyond was a sunken road, a road that branched three ways. Between two of these roads was a brook.
