The Map of Bones, page 15
Odendaal nodded and the soldiers dragged the cart away. Eltorp screamed as he fell, but only for a heartbeat until the rope choked his voice from him. Suzanne watched with horror as his legs thrashed, trying to find purchase, as the weight of his own body pulled the noose tighter. The pastor raised his voice in prayer, not for the soul of the hanged man but for the officers of the VOC who had condemned him. After what seemed like an age, though was no more than minutes, Eltorp stopped struggling. The rope creaked on the gibbet as his body swung, finally coming to rest. She saw Adriaan cross himself and heard his murmured words.
‘May God have mercy on his soul.’
He turned away from the scene and Suzanne saw his blue eyes dulled by the savagery of the moment. But she knew Adriaan had no doubts that he had exacted just punishment for the violence done to his beloved wife. She understood: ‘Life shall go for life, eye for eye.’
Wasn’t that what the Bible preached?
CHAPTER THIRTY
CAPE COLONY
Monday, 22nd November
The two weeks after returning from Stellenbosch passed quickly as Suzanne put her plan into action to make an expedition to Olifantshoek. The first step was to persuade Adriaan to speak to Pieter Odendaal.
Adriaan was reluctant. She was aware she had made a poor impression on the landdrost. In consequence, the magistrate was disinclined to invite her to stay as a guest. Like the Commander, he did not approve of women with opinions of their own.
Suzanne decided to enlist Judith’s help.
Her friend was suffering with a malaise, brought on by the oppressive heat, so did not venture out from their quarters within the Castle. Suzanne wondered if she was lonely. Judith had lived her whole life in the orphanage surrounded by people. Here she was alone for much of the day. But on this particular Monday, Suzanne and Florence had been invited for tea, so she hoped there might be an opportunity to lay out her plan before her friend.
‘You will forgive me if I do not get up,’ Judith said, as they were shown into a pleasant room on the first floor of the Castle. ‘I find I am quite giddy much of the time and as nauseated as if we were back at sea.’ She smiled weakly. ‘But it is a pleasure to see you both. Thank you for taking the trouble to come to me.’
‘It is kind of you to invite us, my dear,’ Florence replied, settling herself into an armchair. ‘I am sure you have many demands on your time.’
Suzanne bent down and kissed Judith on the cheek. ‘You look well,’ she said, less than truthfully. ‘The married state suits you.’
‘I am well, except for this sickness, and this terrible fatigue. This heat. And because Adriaan is much valued by the Commander, so often called upon, he is not always at home . . . But there is much to occupy my time: I am helping to design a school’s programme for the children of VOC officials: the new hospital requires funds; and the building of our new church is not progressing as quickly as the Commander would like. Of course, the older ladies are experienced and instruct me, but I like to think that I am making some small difference.’
Judith rang the bell and a Black maid soon appeared with a tray of tea and sweet biscuits. ‘You will find it has a very delicate aroma,’ she said. ‘It is a Chinese blend.’
Suzanne marvelled at how this shy, humble orphanage girl had become a purposeful young woman. But the dark rings beneath Judith’s eyes worried her and she hoped her friend was happy. It couldn’t be easy to be surrounded by other VOC wives determined to remind her of her humble origins.
‘How do you fare, Madame Joubert?’ Judith asked.
‘Florence, please. We are married women both, though I have been a widow for longer than a wife.’
Judith smiled. ‘I have barely seen you these past weeks, confined as I am to these chambers.’
Suzanne laughed. ‘I barely see Gran’mère either! Like you, she finds much to fill her days.’
‘How do things fare with our friends from the China?’
Florence put her tea cup down on the table. ‘To speak plainly, my dear, many of them are struggling. They came with nothing, and the resources here to support them are stretched to breaking point. I do what I can and Madame Lombard is a great help. She works tirelessly to make sure that no child goes hungry and cares for your girls like a mother. But many of the refugees do not even own a pair of shoes. It doesn’t matter so much now, but come the winter . . .’ Florence stopped, not wishing to bring a note of disquiet into the convivial gathering. ‘The refugee council has made petition to the Commander and he, I am told, has applied again to the Batavia fund for more money, but things are difficult.’
‘I am sure he will do his best,’ Judith replied carefully.
‘The other issue is making sure each family has what they need in preparation for their journey to Groot Drakenstein. The Malans, the Jourdans, Pierre Grange and Pierre Jaubert – forgive me, Joubert – and his family have already left. The others are to follow in the New Year. But there is concern that the tools they were promised are of inferior workmanship, and a greater concern about the quality of the land. They are saying it is not suitable for planting vines or wheat.’ A mosquito landed on Florence’s hand, which she slapped away.
‘It must be hard,’ Judith said, still refusing to be drawn.
Suzanne was not surprised. Judith would not say anything that could be construed as a criticism against the VOC and, by extension, a criticism of her husband, but she was certain that Florence had made her point.
‘Tell me about my girls?’ Judith said, her face brightening. ‘How are Petronella and dear Catrina? You will have heard that Corporal Biebouw’s suit for Wilhelmina’s hand has been accepted?’
‘Yes, indeed,’ said Florence, raising her eyebrows. ‘Madame Lombard keeps me apprised of everything.’
Suzanne sat back and let the conversation drift. Outside, she could hear the sounds of the Castle going about its business: the never-ending cry of the starlings lined along the roof; shouted orders from the guards; servants running up and down the stairs. The afternoon sailed softly on.
‘But what of you?’ Judith asked, suddenly turning her attention to Suzanne. ‘It was kind of you to go to Stellenbosch with Adriaan. He says he wouldn’t have been able to conclude the matter without your assistance.’
Suzanne hesitated. There was no point trying to explain to Judith the horror she had felt when she had come face to face with Lars Eltorp, nor the emotions she experienced when she had watched him hang. Adriaan protected his wife from any unpleasantness. Who was she to do otherwise?
‘If I was able to help see justice done, then I am glad.’
‘I sleep more soundly because of it,’ Judith said. ‘It was silly of me, I dare say. Adriaan would not let any harm befall me. But knowing that villain is no longer able to inflict suffering on anyone else has given me peace of mind.’
For an instant, Suzanne felt a flash of anger, unfair as it was. She had rarely known a time in her adult life where she had slept deeply without fear of what the night might bring. Judith, for all her deprivations in the orphanage, had not grown up dreading that every night might be her last.
‘Adriaan says you wish to return to Stellenbosch,’ Judith continued.
Suzanne pushed her unkind thoughts aside, grateful her friend had raised the subject of her own accord. ‘You remember I have talked of my ancestor, Louise, before?’
‘Of course.’
‘She came here thirty years before the Colony was established. But, with your husband’s help, we managed to piece together a few fragments of information. Madame Lombard who, as you know, is the longest-serving resident of the community, contributed a few recollections, too. Then, in Stellenbosch, Lars Eltorp gave us a fresh lead.’
Judith was nodding. ‘Adriaan told me all about it. But you surely cannot intend to go into the interior yourself? A woman alone.’
Suzanne felt a glimmer of hope. If he was talking to Judith about her request, then maybe he was considering it?
‘I cannot let this chance go, Judith. It was only two weeks ago, this encounter. The only possible way for me to discover anything more is to travel to Olifantshoek and try to find this man Eltorp claims to have met.’
‘But it is such a large area to search.’
‘It is, and I could not go without a guide.’ She looked her friend in the eye. ‘But if Adriaan gives me permission and assistance, it could be done.’
‘What could be done?’ Adriaan said, striding into the room, his polished boots loud on the wooden boards. He dropped a kiss on the top of his wife’s head, gave a half-bow to Florence, kissed Suzanne on the cheek, and then stood directly below the fan and loosened his collar. ‘If you will excuse me, it is as hot as a furnace in the council chamber. I have fled here for a little civilising company.’
‘Suzanne is hoping to travel to Olifantshoek,’ Judith said, answering his question. ‘She will need a guide and horses, and papers giving her permission to travel.’ She gave a delicate shrug. ‘I don’t know what is required, husband, but I am certain you do.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Can you help? I would not lose my only friend in the wilds of Olifantshoek.’
Adriaan sighed. ‘Not this again.’
‘I give you my word, brother,’ Suzanne said quickly, ‘that if you help me with this one last thing, then I will never ask anything more of you. Upon my word.’
He laughed. ‘Even if I believed that – which I do not, for you are the most tenacious person I have ever met – it is too dangerous.’ His expression grew serious. ‘There have been deaths in the valley – men brought down by lions, jackals, by elephants protecting their calves, baboons. And you would be trespassing into Khoi lands.’
Suzanne met his gaze. ‘That is why I would need a local guide and the authority of your office. If you could persuade landdrost Odendaal to allow me to stay in the drostdij for a day or two initially, and perhaps again at the end of my expedition, and facilitate the hiring of a guide, a horse and provisions, that would be enough. I have money, you know that. And I would be doing no harm.’
‘Except possibly to yourself, and those who love you.’
Judith reached her hand out to her husband. ‘You know that she will never let this rest, Adriaan. It might be better for your peace of mind to concede.’
Suzanne saw the look of love passing between them and, for the first time, felt something like envy.
‘And you give me your word that, whatever you find, this will be the end of the matter?’ Adriaan sighed.
‘In so far as I can make such a promise, I do.’ Suzanne turned to her grandmother. ‘It is not only for me. Gran’mère knew Louise. She, too, would have some measure of peace knowing what had happened to her older cousin.’
Florence gave a wistful smile. ‘The end of the story is to make sense of its beginning.’
‘And you would give Suzanne your blessing to undertake such an expedition?’
Florence gave a shrug of her thin shoulders. ‘I am old, mijnheer. What I have learnt in my long life is that we each must follow the path laid out before us. Calamity is as likely to befall us in our own home, as traversing the plains of Africa. All of our brief lives are full of risk. It is up to us to decide how we face those challenges. We are in God’s hands.’ She smiled at her granddaughter. ‘I trust Suzanne to know her own mind. She believes she has an obligation to Louise and she is determined to fulfil it. She has come halfway across the world to do so. So, yes, I give her my blessing, even though I will not rest from the moment she rides away until the moment I see her beloved face once more.’
It was quite the longest speech any of them had heard Florence make. Suzanne felt her eyes brim and, when she looked at Judith, she could see her friend similarly moved.
‘Forgive me,’ Judith said, waving her hand. ‘Everything provokes me to tears at the moment.’
‘Thank you, Gran’mère,’ Suzanne said. ‘But, rest assured. I have every intention of coming back.’
Judith looked to Adriaan, who was now pacing the room. ‘Well, husband?’
Suzanne watched him look around at each of them in turn. Finally, he sighed. ‘Very well. I will see what I can do.’
Suzanne ran to embrace him.
‘That’s enough, that’s enough,’ he said, disentangling himself. ‘If only every problem was so easy to solve as this. Alas, my labours await me. If you ladies will forgive me, I will leave you to finish your tea party.’
‘When—’ Suzanne began.
He put up his hand to stop her. ‘I will set things in motion. As soon as the arrangements are made, I will let you know.’
She pressed her hands together. ‘Thank you.’
Adriaan kissed his wife and bowed to Florence. ‘Good day, Madame Joubert. I hope you will not think it forward of me to say that you are a most remarkable woman.’
As soon as he had gone, the three women sat back in silence. Then, Florence leant forward in her chair and took Judith’s hand.
‘To take Suzanne’s words for my own, there is “one last thing”. I think you will find that a little ginger taken in brandy at the start of the day will help your sickness. It will pass.’
Judith’s face flooded with colour. ‘How did you know?’
Florence smiled. ‘My dear, it is as clear as day you are with child.’
Judith smiled. ‘I did not want to say anything to Adriaan until I was sure. I prayed to God for it to happen, and He listened.’
Suzanne surprised everyone, not least of all herself, by bursting into tears.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Monday, 29th November
A week after the tea party, Suzanne met Adriaan by appointment at the Castle to raid her strongbox. Not only did she have to withdraw funds enough to pay for the expedition, but she needed to arrange for Florence to have access to the vault in her absence. Suzanne was hoping not to be away for more than a month, but wanted to ensure her grandmother would have sufficient funds in the interim.
It was ten o’clock in the morning, yet already the heat was punishing. Even the birds were silent and the workers kept to the shade around the corners of the building. The stench of rotting seaweed on the shore permeated every nook and cranny, and clouds of mosquitoes hovered in the sluiced-down alleyways behind the VOC buildings at the harbour. Day or night, it was impossible to escape the stink. Suzanne would be glad to be up-country where the air was sweeter.
Adriaan was in good humour. ‘Madame Joubert’s remedy is working,’ he said as they walked across the sun-flattened courtyard. ‘I am most grateful to her. My wife is no longer prone to sickness in the mornings and the feelings of fatigue are passing. Every day, she returns to full health.’
‘I am glad of it,’ Suzanne said. ‘And when might the baby come?’
Adriaan smiled awkwardly. ‘Judith thinks it will be mid-June. Jean du Prieur du Plessis will deliver her.’
‘There are several sage-femmes among the refugees,’ Suzanne said delicately, ‘not least of all Madame Lombard, if Judith might prefer a woman attend her. A familiar face.’
He thought for a moment. ‘I will suggest it. Whatever Judith wants, she shall have.’
They walked past the slave quarters into the inner courtyard, then to the administration building where the vaults were situated. Every free citizen of the Cape had the right to take advantage of the secure storage offered by the VOC. It discouraged house-breaking in the town, since burghers could store their valuables and gold in the vaults rather than in their homes. Suzanne suspected it worked to the VOC’s benefit too, allowing them to keep a watchful eye on the growing wealth of the inhabitants.
They walked down a long and dark corridor, lit only by high fanlights, and arrived at a heavy wooden door guarded by two soldiers. They stood to attention when they recognised Adriaan, but Suzanne showed her papers all the same.
‘No need to wait for me,’ she said. ‘I will be quite all right on my own.’
Adriaan nodded. ‘Come and visit Judith tomorrow. I will be occupied most of the day and she would be glad to see you.’ He touched his hat, then walked back the way they had come.
Suzanne was shown through into a small counting house with a cadaverous clerk sitting behind a high secretary’s desk.
‘Box seven hundred and two,’ she said. ‘Suzanne Joubert.’
The clerk stamped her papers, then handed her a heavy silver key and gestured to a table at the side of the chamber. ‘Take a seat, juffrouw Joubert, I will bring the box to you presently.’
Suzanne had barely settled herself on the bench when a boy appeared carrying a rectangular iron box. Bound in riveted strapwork, with wrythen bale handles to make it easy to transport, the front and back were smooth so the box could be stacked. On the underlip of the lid, there was an elaborate steel lock shooting four bolts. It would not prevent someone from stealing the box itself, of course – should they manage to infiltrate the building in the first place – but it made it impossible to open without the key.
Suzanne turned her key and heard the mechanism shift, then a pop as the lid unfastened. She had come for a bag of guilders, intending to exchange it for eight-reales, the most widely used currency in the Colony. She had worked out what she required: the cost of a horse; funds to pay a guide; money to buy a gift for landdrost Odendaal, and something for his sister, to express her gratitude for their hospitality. She would also need enough to purchase provisions for her expedition. She had pleaded with Adriaan and, finally, he had agreed to purchase a musket for her and a bandolier to hold ammunition and powder, and these were expensive.
It was dark in the room, so Suzanne paddled her fingers in the box until she felt the black felt purse. As she lifted it out, she saw two other precious items at the bottom of the strongbox.
The first was an eyeglass. She had found it in Alis and Cornelia’s house in Warmoesstraat, lying dusty on a shelf in the library. She did not know to whom it had belonged – it could not be Louise’s, since surely she would have taken hers when she sailed – but Suzanne realised it would be useful. The second was her small casket, the only thing of value she had brought with her from La Rochelle. A carved wooden box, lined with silk, it held the jewellery she had inherited from the mother she had never known. Mathilde had died bringing her into the world, but they shared a birth month – her mother had been born on the last day of January and Suzanne on the very first.
