The Devil and the Dark Water

61

Still guarding the door to the passenger cabins, Drecht stared at the Eighth Lantern off the starboard quarter of the ship, desperation growing within him. He’d lost battles before. He’d been overwhelmed and forced to retreat, but never had he so singularly failed to comprehend the scale of his enemy, its intent or the terms of surrender.

How was he supposed to protect the governor general from something that could appear and vanish at will, speak without a voice, slaughter at distance and pluck things out of locked rooms without leaving a trace?

Isaack Larme came clattering up the stairs and through the red door into the passenger cabins, emerging with Captain Crauwels a few minutes later. The captain had obviously been asleep, for he was just dressed in his breeches. It was the first time Drecht could remember him being dishevelled.

The two of them went to the taffrail a few paces away.

‘Even we don’t know where we are,’ cursed Crauwels, staring at it. ‘How did it find us?’

‘Governor General wanted us to train cannon on it if it appeared again,’ replied Isaack Larme.

‘It’s too far away, and it has the wind gauge,’ said Crauwels irritably, glancing at the flag flying above them. ‘Even if they didn’t, our sails are still in tatters. We can’t manoeuvre, which means we can’t fight. Not even sure what we’d be fighting.’

‘What are your orders, Captain?’

‘All hands on deck and armed,’ he said. ‘Until then, we watch.’

Governor General Jan Haan appeared from the passenger cabins after two hours, and silently returned to his own cabin. Guard Captain Drecht took his usual position outside, lit his pipe and waited. After a few minutes, weeping sounded through the door.