Abraham Gabemma, the newly appointed fiscal responsible for the administration of the Colony's schatkis walked with fast-paced strides to meet up with the Commander on his morning inspection of the Company Gardens.
'Commander,' he greeted and lifted his hat.
'To what do I owe this assault of my peace this early in the morning?'
Gabemma smiled. 'My heartfelt apologies, Commander.' He put his handon his hat, removed it from his head and curtsied with a sweeping hand gesture. 'I thought it wise that you hear the final execution of the Woutersz matter...'
The Commander clenched his free hand behind his back. 'Finish and be gone.'
'I took the Schapenjacht to Robben Island to oversee the execution of Resolution 20.' The young fiscal, unnerved by Van Riebeeck's darting eyes that pinned him down paused, uncertain.
'I do not have the whole day.'
'Jan Woutersz-'
'Do not mention the name of that cripple drunk in my presence. Ever,' he said, waving his finger across Gabemma's face. 'Get to the point.'
'I ur...The new superintendent is now overseeing the servants, the slaves, and the exiles.'
'Good. Overhagen will shake things up on that Island. We need people like Ryk. Out here...' He paused and studied the land, once a dense forest, turned into a flat square of soil stripped of tthe indigenous trees and fynbos shrubbery which had to make way for the Company Gardens. 'Out here I need men with honour and commitment to the vision of building this refreshment station for the Company.'
Abraham cleared his throat. 'The Schelvis was dispatched to bring the previous superintendent and his family back to the mainland. I will put them on the next ship that leaves for Batavia, but the son-'
'I must be on my way. Any other matters?'
'The mad slave is back on the mainland.'
The Commander's irritation was rising and it was tangible in his voice. 'What on earth for?'
Gabemma, sensing he had to tread with caution, gave it his best shot. 'I am afraid her mind is-'
His Commander tore into him, once more. 'The Company do not take care of slaves. Let alone-'
'The mad slave is beyond repair, Commander. She, in good conscience, is unfit for labour, and unable to earn the fare for her ration of rice and beans.'
'You know, Abraham,' said the Commander. His tone was low, his speech slow. 'Leaders, real leaders, do the unconscionable when faced with matters that stand in the way of their vision.' He took a deep breath, whipped out his handkerchief and held it between his ringed fingers, his thoughts far away. As if reminded of the young man's presence he glanced at him and continued. 'Do you remember that horse I had? The one the lion got to that night in the shed?'
'Very clearly, Commander. The one you said was worth more than the labour of ten slaves? I remember that night very well. We searched for that lion for two whole days. I still remember when the Hottentoo warriors found him and-'
'This story is not about the lion.'
'It is not?'
'No. Not really. Anyway. Do you remember what happened to the horse?'
'Yes, he had to be put down-'
Before he could finish his sentence the Commander had adjusted his cloak and walked off, forcing the young Gabemma to catch up with him.
'Do you ever look around you, Abraham? Really look?'
'I try-'
'And? What do you see?'
'I see this harsh wilderness you are trying to tame. I see the different people living together. Us, all the officials, free burgers, soldiers, and sailors. But I also see the natives, and the slaves.' He gathered his thoughts. 'We are all forced to live side-by-side, all dependent on one another for survival.'
'Next time, look again. I thank you for the swift and thorough execution of the resolution.' He pressed his hat deeper into his head and fixed his view on a spot.
'Commander, before you leave, unburden my mind. What did I miss?'
'If the Council of Justice had carried out his punishment, which he deserved, it would have sent a message. Yes, we are all here, flung together, each one with our own needs and aspirations. But we from home should all have the same goal.' He looked across the developing pockets of work done in the ground of the designated Company Gardens hemmed in by and the mountain, fully covered in blue-black clouds in the back. 'Our only goal, Abraham, is to execute the instructions of the VOC. It has been six years now...And many nights, when the roar of the lions tear my eyelids apart all I pray for is survival. I want to survive this wilderness and go home.' He took a deep breath. 'You asked what you missed. What you are asking is that I untie the blindfold from your eyes.'
'I must know what I missed that displease you this much in this Woutersz matter.'
'Justice is the missing ingredient. And you and the Council weakened it.'
'We ensured justice.'
The Commander thought for a long time before he answered the young mind who, clearly, was not aligned with his. He had one of two choices. 'You are correct. This is a wilderness. Theirs... One we will never tame should we waver in our conviction to punish all those on the prowl to devour us. They are everywhere, Abraham. In the shadows, and in the daylight. On our ships, on the farms and the taverns and the inns and in the slave lodge..Even in the Fort. They will never stop until we are defeated.' Trapped in a battle to contain his emotions he steadied himself on his walking stick and brought his trembling body under control. 'Here, our justice is the cornerstone of survival... Justice is our cat of nine tails. Justice, Abraham, is our best deterrent against those many-headed snakes that set fires to our provisions, who threaten our law and order with their lies, and talk of resistance. Without justice our survival, and that of our families are in danger. Without justice, harsh justice we will never leave our civilised footprints in this godforsaken place. Never.'
'Sometimes justice is a blunt tool. It does not always live up to our expectations, Commander... especially you and your wife who suffered grievous injury caused by the mouth of-of the previous superintendent.'
'Six years ago the Company's justice demanded that I pay my debt to them. I lowered myself like a dog to redeem my good name, and I expect, no I demand no less than what I was subjected to.' He stamped the ground with his walking stick. 'Every offender in the employ of the Company must be subjected to the same justice.'
'The repeal of his sentence was not aimed at you, Commander. Christian folk do not cast a good eye on us when justice looks like revenge. Not even for a low-ranking official such as Jan Wouterz.'
'There was proof, but nothing came of it. He is a drunk, a wasteful and useless man who spread lies about me and my wife. In my eyes he will remain a disgrace who squandered Company resources and got away with it. The Council of Justice failed me and my family.'
'He was ordered to apologise in public and stripped of his position. They were unanimous that sending him to Robben Island was a prison sentence then... That is no place for a Dutchman. Any Dutchman.'
'And Ryk? Is his appointment viewed as a prison sentence too?'
'Ryk's appointment was a natural progression in rank. It was not the result of a transgression. The superintendent, with his wife and son was banished to Batavia. That is a huge punishment since there was the delicate matter that they are a Dutch family now... The church, and the VOC are clear about that. Surely, Commander, justice and mercy are two sides of the same coin, is it not?'
'It feels as if he won.'
'He had a trial. He was judged. And he was punished for his deeds.'
'They call that justice?' He snorted and pulled his face in distaste. 'Justice never favours the guilty. What about our reputations he slandered so grievously? What intentions moved him hither? I devoted my life to carry out my assignment here. His tongue should have been awled and his lips cut off. That is justice.' Angry he turned on his heels and walked off.
But Abraham, with all the zeal that his youth allowed, still glowed with the courage of his convictions. Unable to read the direction of the wind when a storm is gathering he continued to unburden the yoke thrust upon his shoulders. 'There is another matter, Commander.' Van Riebeeck did not slow down. 'Last night the Caapmen tried to make off with the convict slave that was flogged and chained to a tree for encouraging disobedience. I verified Catrijn's accusations of rebellion, treason and badmouthing her masters. Maria was the only other slave who had contact with the one-ear convict... I uh... To leave her chained to the tree until her spirit expires, is unjust in light of the new evidence. I put her back to work. She is young, and of better value alive than dead. The Company will lose the value of her labour should the Hottentoo manage to steal her and sell her to one of the inland tribes for a profit.'
The Commander heard enough. He beat the ground with his wandelstok. 'Look at you... taking decisions without even so much as consulting with his superior Commander. Do you know the man who wants her?'
'Domineer is harmless. You yourself said he was not capable of intelligent conversation or reasoning. Why now do you ascribe such heroism to an imbecile? What is in it for him? She is a slave. They do not trade in slaves.'
'After his return from Batavia, that impertinent Hottentoo sticks his nose into all our business. You do not see him as well as I do, Abraham. For if you did, you would not play along with his schemes. But I am beginning to see you as well. Two years ago, you were a lowly midshipman who entered my colony with only the clothes on your back.'
'Commander, there is no need for-'
'You are soft, Abraham. Too soft for a fiscus. You will be the imbecile if you take these people at face value. Never underestimate the power of love. Even among these heathens. Now do as you are instructed. Lock up the slave. I need her as leverage.'
He turned and stumped off, leaving behind the young fiscus in a cloud of dust which had formed a thin layer on his upturned, knee-length boots. Without haste or emotion he took out his handkerchief and wiped his boots. When he was done, he straightened up and watched the swinging cloak of his Commander disappear. It was clear he had incurred the wrath of his Commander but he also felt the sting of the disdain for him. A man he held in high esteem. For the very first time he wondered why he favoured to hold the position of fiscus and secretary to the Council of Policy.