The covenant - James A. Michener [66]
'It's time he should go,' his mother conceded as she saw him follow one serving girl into the kitchens, and when the party was over, and the borrowed musicians had returned to their accustomed places, she ordered her carriage with its six attendants and rode down the streets of Batavia to the Compagnie headquarters.
'I should like the two passages on the Haerlem,' she said crisply, and the documents were handed over.
Since the three swift vessels would not depart until the seventeenth of January, overtaking the main fleet somewhere in the vicinity of St. Helena, where fresh stores would be taken aboard, the brothers had two full weeks of farewells. Young Willem spent his in visiting numerous friends, but Karel reported each day to the Compagnie offices, mastering details of that year's intended sales and purchases. He took note of the various fleets that would sail east and north, and of the captains who would command them; at times, as he studied the complex operations, he felt that he was sitting like a spider at the heart of a web, controlling the destinies of half a world. There were now no Portuguese in Malacca; those Straits were Dutch. There were no other Europeans at Nagasaki, either; Japan was now exclusively a Dutch concession. English vessels still stopped at their little entrepot but were no longer allowed in the Spice Islands; and even the occasional French merchantman, its sails ragged from the long voyage out, had to obey regulations set down by the Dutch.
'We rule the seas,' he exclaimed one morning when the full power of Jan Compagnie was revealed.
'No,' an older man cautioned. 'The English are beginning to rule India. And the Portuguese still control Macao and the China trade.'
'Let them have the tea and ginger,' Karel conceded, 'so long as we keep the spices.'
When the brothers approached the three ships, they could smell the spices from a considerable distance, for the holds were crammed with last-minute sacks and bundles from the eastern islands; the ships moved in a splendid ambience, reeking of fortunes and the promise of gold. They were taking the heart of Asia to the center of Europe, and each ship represented a greater wealth than many small nations would handle in an entire year. Jan Compagnie controlled Java, and Java controlled the seas.
On the fourth day, after the little ships had passed through Sunda Strait, a vigorous storm arose, with visibility almost nonexistent. Great winds raged for three days, and when the low clouds lifted, the Haerlem was alone. The captain fired cannons, listened for replies, and when none came, followed the basic rule of navigation: 'If separated, proceed to the point of rendezvous.' Without further apprehension as to the fate of the Schiedam and Olifant, he headed for St. Helena and the body of the fleet.
It would take more than two months to negotiate this distance, and as the Haerlem sailed westward, sunrise at her back, sunset glowing ahead, spars creaking and sails filled by reassuring winds, the brothers speculated as to what might have happened to their sister ships. 'They're good captains,' Karel said. 'I know them, and they know the oceans. They're out there somewhere, because if we survived, so did they.'
'Will we see them?' Willem asked, peering always toward the horizon, as if on this vast sea three tiny ships might accidentally converge.
'Not likely. They may have rushed ahead. They may have lagged. We'll see them at St. Helena.'
'You think they're afloat?'
'I'm sure of it.'
On the long reach, it became apparent that the Van Doorn brothers were heading for Holland with conflicting motivations. For Karel, who had been born there and who vaguely remembered both his