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  Raja looked at him with confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “You told him that we were in Sweden.”

  “Yeah, but not that we were in Strömstad.”

  “No, and thank God for that. You talk and smile too much.”

  “Smile too much?”

  “Yeah!”

  “To whom, if I might ask?”

  “To all sorts of men. To that fisherman on Hvaler, for example. And you were being awfully nice to that fancy bailiff today. Decorated fella, wasn’t he?”

  “Jeppesen?”

  “Yeah, the bailiff.”

  “A smile can be disarming, Maxim. I had to give him the impression that we were innocent. I did everything in my power to protect you. Can’t you see that?”

  “Nonsense! You don’t care about me. You’re just trying to save your own skin. You were flirting with the bailiff, no two ways about it. All you were trying to do was charm him and you seemed to have managed that just fine. His eyes told me that he fancied you by the end. A blind man could see that.”

  “You’re not right in the head,” she scoffed.

  “Shut up!” Maxim shouted and hurled a fist towards her. It struck Raja in the face so hard, she fell to the ground, unconscious. Oh, no, what have I done? Maxim thought as he tried to wake her. Just then, he heard the furious voice of his father-in-law, Budulaj Romanov.

  “Have you lost your mind?” Raja’s dad and her brothers, Ivan and Peter, had all felt like something bad was about to happen, but they arrived too late to stop it.

  “I didn’t mean to do it... It just...”

  Budulaj pushed him aside.

  “Raja, Raja! Are you alright?”

  Her brothers threatened Maxim with their knives.

  “You stay where you are,” the 13-year-old Ivan said with as much authority as his pre-pubescent voice could muster.

  Maxim raised his hands meekly.

  Budulaj lifted Raja and held her in his arms. She was pale and seemingly lifeless.

  “Leave this place,” Budulaj commanded. “I never want to see you again.

  “No, not without Raja. We’re married!”

  “Married? Show me your marriage certificate, you scoundrel. I said leave.”

  Maxim turned around and left. Budulaj himself had officiated their wedding.

  RED MANOR

  OCTOBER 29TH, 1807

  Shipowner Carsten Tank was deep in thought as he sat behind his new desk, bought in London alongside a selection of other furniture last year. Each piece of the Napoleonic furniture was standing in his office. Dark, glossy woodwork of the desk was covered with books and documents that Tank now found himself immersed in. The accounts made for a worrisome read. Expenses were increasing and profits were decreasing. Suddenly, he heard something in the hallway. Voices echoed and boots stomped across the wooden floor, but not with any particular rhythmic pattern. One of the doors was slightly ajar, which allowed Willy and his small group of men to march right into the office, with Tank’s despairing servant at their heels.

  “I apologise, sir, but I tried to stop them...”

  “Good morning, Carsten. Here we are,” Willy said with a confident, soft voice. “Four men for The Avenger of Wrath. I’m a far better candidate for the position of captain than I was the last time we met, thanks to the excellent training of my good friend, the experienced First Mate Armel. The guy with the broken arms.” Armel bowed carefully in place, both casted arms resting on his wide chest.

  Tank squinted at them over the rims of his round reading glasses, which had slipped down to the tip of his nose. The first mate doesn’t look to be in great shape, Tank thought to himself. Armel looked more like a drunkard that Willy had picked off the streets than anything else. His face was swollen and his skin yellow. The two, big bruises around his faded eyes didn’t do him any favours, either.

  “You might recognise these two tough guys from last time,” Willy continued, his voice still gentle. He nodded towards the stocky 16-year-olds, who looked much younger than their age.

  “No, I’m afraid I don’t,” Tank said indifferently, as he pulled a golden watch from the pocket of his silk vest. He opened the lid and furrowed his brow, as if to tell them something.

  “Right, I see,” Willy said and launched into an explanation. “These are the twins...”

  “Yes, I see that.”

  “Odd and Jens Kaspersen. They hail from Jammerdalen on Idd...”

  “Great, I understand. I’m not in the need of a crew at the moment, and as you might be able to see, I’m in the middle of something. I’ll get in touch with Gustav if anything changes.”

  “Sounds good. You know where to find us...”

  “That I do,” Tank said and turned to the servant. “Please show these gentlemen the way out.” His eyes were back on his desk before his visitors had even started to leave.

  “Great. We’ll leave it at that for now, then. Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye,” Tank mumbled without looking up.

  The visitors were shown out.

  FREDRIKSHALD

  OCTOBER 29TH, 1807

  The group was exhausted after their long trek from Moss to Fredrikshald, during which they had spent the night in cowsheds and mountain caves. They’d drunk water from the streams along the way, and with the exception of a hare that Willy had shot, they had barely eaten. The rabbit had been roasted over an open fire in the forest. What a feast! Although it was delicious, it hadn’t been enough to satisfy their collective hunger. Both Willy and the twins had grown emaciated and all they talked about was food. They could think of nothing else. Fried mackerel and potatoes. Pork roast and beer. Armel, however, was just as wide around the midsection as always, so he would easily survive a little longer. The Frenchman’s troubles were instead rooted in his injuries. Every step was agony for him.

  What do I do now? Willy thought, as they left Shipowner Carsten Tank’s manor. They had to do something and Willy knew that the responsibility fell to him. Go home to my dad? No, it wouldn’t do to show up with three other mouths to feed. Not at the Castle on Lauer, where there was barely enough food and space to go around as it was. Going out to Jammerdalen on Idd, where the twins came from, didn’t even cross his mind as an option. But as they walked away from the manor, with all its glory and riches, he looked towards Fredrikshald and the imposing fortress in the background. The fortress that had saved the town from Swedish invasions five times already. Their coat of arms read, “GOD IS WITH US”, and in that moment, Willy thanked his Lord and Saviour. Thank You for holding Your protective hand over us and for bestowing upon me a brother of the likes of Gustav. My brother will be able to help us. Gustav was his earthly Saviour.

  On their way up to the fortress, they passed the busy town square. Willy spotted a familiar face in the crowd, Raja’s father.

  “Good day,” Willy said and stopped to talk.

  “Good day,” Raja’s father said, happy to see him again. “What are you doing in town, young man?”

  “My brother lives here. He works at the fortress.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  “And yourself?”

  “Well...” He stroked the back of his nose pensively, unsure of what to say.

  Silence fell between them.

  Willy continued, “We crossed paths in Svinesund a few weeks back.”

  “Is that so?”

  “My friends and I were heading out, and I saw you rowing into the Ringdals Fjord. I waved, but you didn’t see me.” Willy nodded to the small group of men standing behind him, astonished. “But we’re back now. Where’s Raja, by the way?”

  “Well...” He gestured dismissively and shook his head.

  “Has something happened to her?”

  The father sighed and groaned.

  “Spit it out, man!”

  “Ebenezer...”

  “She’s at Ebenezer?”

  Raja’s dad nodded. He didn’t want to talk about it, so he left without another word.

  O
dd had grown curious.

  “Who is this Raja?” he asked.

  “His daughter.”

  “And?”

  “I don’t know, but something has happened.”

  “But... Who is she?”

  “Stop prying. Mind your own business.”

  “Fine.” Odd understood that Willy wouldn’t say any more.

  An hour later, the group climbed the stairs to the Ebenezer workhouse. Armel was so exhausted that they practically had to carry him the last few steps of the way, which wasn’t an easy task. Not because of his weight, but because of his screaming. “Ow! Ow! Damn these godforsaken ribs of mine!”

  If he was being honest, Willy had wanted to leave Armel in the town square so he could reach Raja as quickly as possible. She was his first priority right now. Unfortunately, Armel desperately needed a doctor to tend to his injuries, and that had stopped him from abandoning his friend. In spite of Armel’s whining, it didn’t take them too long to reach the doors of the workhouse. All Willy could think about was Raja. What had happened to her? Cholera? The plague? It must’ve been something serious, otherwise she wouldn’t have been admitted to Ebenezer. He didn’t know all that much about the place except for the fact that it was only for the poor and the ill. The people who couldn’t care for themselves. That kind of care didn’t exist on Hvaler, where all they had were granny cures and nobody ever sent for a doctor. There was a home remedy for everything, and liquor was one of the main ones. They used that for most things and added everything from pulverised clay pipes to caraway and other useful herbs.

  When they’d finally made their way inside, they asked the matron if there was a patient by the name of Raja Romanova and were told that she was still on the premises. The matron was a woman around Armel’s age, and although she must have been beautiful in her younger years, her appearance didn’t do much to set her apart from the poor inhabitants of the workhouse. She showed them to a crowded room with tall ceilings. A large window at the other end allowed sunlight to filter into the room, but there was a permeating smell of urine in the stale air. There were four beds in a row, three of which were occupied by unfamiliar faces. The fourth, where Raja should’ve been lying, was empty. A dark-haired woman was sitting on a chair, with her back to them. Willy recognised the long, voluminous hair immediately. She was sitting with a spoon in her hand, feeding an old, bedridden woman.

  “Raja, you have visitors,” the matron said.

  Willy flinched when Raja turned around. She had a bruise around one of her eyes, and he didn’t have to be psychic to guess who might have done that to her. All the same, she lit up when she saw him.

  “Oh, hey! It’s you.”

  “Are we interrupting?”

  “Not at all. If you wait outside, I’ll be right there.”

  “Perfect. We’ll go out and sit on the staircase.”

  They left the room and followed the matron back to the front.

  The matron turned to Armel. “Would you like to see a doctor?”

  The elderly charmer lit up.

  “Merci beaucoup, Madame. That would be great.”

  The matron nodded and smiled.

  “Alright. The doctor should be in around two o’clock, and I’m sure he’d be happy to take a look at those injuries. Change the bandages and all that. You look like you could use it, Monsieur...”

  “Armel Dumas. I’m afraid I can’t shake your hand, dear Madame...”

  “No, I can see why that’d be difficult, Monsieur Dumas. My name is Bodil Hansen, but you can call me Bodil. It’s lovely to meet a real Frenchman. Where are you from in France?”

  “Call me Armel. I’m from La Rochelle, Madame Bodil. The most beautiful place in the world.”

  “The twins and I are going to head outside,” Willy said to Armel. Out on the steps, he turned to the twins and said, “Did you two notice the matron and Armel?”

  “Oh, yeah,” they chuckled in unison, and Odd continued. “But Raja... I mean, she has that bruise, but what a woman!”

  “Easy,” Willy said. “Don’t get too excited, Odd. She doesn’t like young guys like you. Her sister might...”

  “She has a sister? How old is she? And is she just as pretty?”

  “Almost.”

  “How old is she?” he repeated.

  “Around your age, I’d guess.”

  Odd cheered. “Woohoo, I’d love to get to know her.”

  “Me, too,” Jens said, to his brother’s dismay.

  “Calm down, you two. Not a peep about this when Raja gets here. Go over the other side of the house and wait there until I come get you. Otherwise you’ll just be in the way. Go.”

  Willy waved them away, and they disappeared.

  A few minutes later, Raja emerged, and she didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t quite look him in the eyes and didn’t want to talk about what had happened.

  “Did he hit you again?”

  “No, don’t blame Maxim... It was my fault...”

  “How so?”

  It took a while to get her to talk about what had happened, but Willy refused to give up—he had to get to the bottom of this.

  FREDRIKSTEN FORTRESS

  OCTOBER 29TH, 1807

  “Have you been eating chili peppers, brother?” Gustav said when Willy and his troupe marched into the warehouse. Willy’s face was red, his eyes screamed murder.

  “No,” Willy said. “But I have a bone to pick with someone. He needs to be put in his place.”

  Gustav raised a disarming hand. “Not me, I hope.”

  “No, not you. Someone who’s threatened me with a knife.”

  “Really, with a knife? This early in the evening?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who?”

  “Maxim.”

  “Maxim? I don’t know anyone by that name...”

  “Oh, you should be grateful.”

  “I’m sure. Go on.”

  “I’ve mentioned him before, but it seems like you’ve forgotten.”

  “Oh, right! No, no, I remember. He’s the thief. They had brought him in for questioning, but they had to let him go since there were no witnesses of the goods being stolen.”

  “That’s right. Raja was in for questioning as well, but she didn’t reveal much.”

  “Is that so?”

  “She just said that they’d been in Sweden for a while.”

  “Right, and...?”

  “She didn’t specify where in Sweden. She’d told them it was in a bay somewhere, and that was enough.”

  “And? Was that enough to make the pig see red?”

  “You bet. She’s down at Ebenezer, mauled almost beyond recognition. You should’ve seen her,” Willy exaggerated. That was a storytelling habit of his.

  “I’d rather not. Will she be alright? I hope it’s not a life-or-death situation.”

  “No, I don’t think so. I’m this close to ripping off her dirt bag of a husband’s head.”

  “Right, calm down. If you kill him, you might end up on the scaffold.”

  “Not if I kill him in self-defence,” Willy said, regretting that he hadn’t pulled his sword and chopped his head off when he had the chance. “He pulled a knife on me.”

  “Just now?”

  “Yeah, right before I got here.”

  “So, I take it you confronted him with Raja’s admission?”

  “Exactly. He doesn’t speak a word of Norwegian, and still he pulled a knife on me when I met him in town, less than 15 minutes ago.”

  “Oh, wow...”

  “Damn him!”

  “No cursing!” Gustav pointed a finger at Willy in warning. He didn’t like swearing.

  “I haven’t cursed. I just want to kill the guy.”

  “I know, but killing is a sin.”

  “That’s rich, coming from you.”

  Gustav laughed. “It’s fine if it’s by order of the king. Besides, it’s only the Swedes and other scum.”

  “Ah, so that’s fine. I’ll keep that i
n mind...”

  “Of course, that’s fine. We have to defend our country... Our freedom, our independence, our values...”

  “Did I hear that right? Our independence?” Willy laughed. “From the Danish king?”

  “Fair point, but enough about that. Perhaps you’d like to introduce your friends?”

  “My friends?”

  “The people standing behind you.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry, I completely forgot about them.”

  Willy took the opportunity to present the group of men and recount their long story from start to finish. He talked about the schooner Joséphine, the battle in Kristiansand and the reason he’d left, the injuries Armel had suffered, and the meeting with the hesitant owner of The Avenger of Wrath, Carsten Tank, who might be in touch with Gustav if he decided to hire them—and so on, and so forth. The whole thing.

  “Right,” Gustav said with a pleased nod, “So, then the big question...” He left the unfinished sentence hanging in the air, as he shot challenging looks at Willy, the twins, and Armel one by one.

  They looked at each other, unable to figure out what the big question was.

  “What do you mean?” Willy asked after having spent a while thinking.

  “What made this Maxim so furious?”

  “You’re asking me? I haven’t the slightest.”

  “What was Raja holding back when she was watching her mouth at the hearing?”

  “That they were in Sweden... Oh, I’ve got it! She said they were in Strömstad. To me, that is. Not to the people interrogating her...”

  “Exactly. That’s it.”

  “What?”

  “Think about it, brother. That’s where Maxim sold the stolen goods.”

  “Oh, right. Of course. You’re smart.”

  “So, what do we do?” Gustav asked, gesturing with his hand in an attempt to put the words in Willy’s mouth.

  “Go to Strömstad, maybe?”

  “That’s right,” Gustav nodded with a smile. “You have a real shot at getting revenge on Maxim.”

  “Oh, how brilliant!” Armel chimed in. He’d stood there in shamefaced, weary silence until then, more or less ready to drop from exhaustion. But this was brilliant!