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Commander Cantrell in the West Indies(216)

By:Eric Flint & Charles E. Gannon


“We can count on a dozen who are reliable enough to actually sail along with our main fleet, as we discussed, Admiral. I have offered letters of marque to another forty-three, most of whom are likely to accept.”

“Excellent. How have you arranged for them to be paid for these, eh, special services to His Majesty, Philip of Spain?”

“As agreed, Admiral, they were given one part in twenty of the promised reales when they signed to our colors. When I meet with those who have agreed to sail with our main fleet four days hence off Isla Beata, one hundred miles to the west, they shall be given a further nine parts of the twenty. The balance shall be paid upon completion of their task.”

“And how do we know these dogs will not simply fly upon receiving a full half of their payment at Isla Beata, having incurred no risk?” De Viamonte tossed aside his napkin angrily. He despised pirates and every minute spent discussing their necessary recruitment and management made him increasingly ill-tempered.

Fadrique interceded, knowing the captain-general would not dare to vent his spleen on an equal. “My dear de Viamonte, it is a surety that some of these dogs will do just as you fear. It is in the nature of soldiers of fortune and adventurers everywhere. However, we cannot ask for a perfect solution, merely one that provides us with the forces to defend the interests of our King and Country. Of the one in five or one in ten that desert without providing the contracted service? We shall put a heavy bounty on their heads. And those of their brethren who survive this battle shall be put on their trail like so many hounds on the scent of a fox.” He smiled. “They know each others’ dens so much better than we do, and the pursuers will be aware that, if they hurry, they will not only get the bounty, but the silver the blackguards stole from us. And so, by the hands of thieves, we will yet see justice served, Captain-General de Viamonte.”

De Viamonte, considering this, smiled tightly and toasted the proposal with a lifted glass of rioja. “I suppose one can ask no more of justice than this: that if it must be imperfect, at least it should be poetic. And our main fleet is now complete?”

Fadrique nodded. “It is. The last eight warships arrived from Santiago de Cuba yestereve at dusk. We now have thirty-five men-of-war and fourteen smaller supply ships. Add to that our dozen pataches. And add the dozen Free Company ships that Captain Equiluz will be paying, just before he leads the rest of the dogs off on their southeasterly course. All together, we shall number just over seventy ships.”

“Let us not forget the nine naos that shall transport the troops,” de Viamonte added.

“I’ve not forgotten them, but I will not load and bring them with us until our battle fleet has met and defeated the foe.”

“Which we have at last found, I hear.” De Viamonte turned toward de Covilla. “You are sure that last night’s reports are accurate, Eugenio?”

“They are, Admiral. The patache Tres Santi encountered a Dutch yacht scouting the Anegada Passage just four days ago. The gin-swillers broke away as soon as they discovered that they had been spotted.”

“This is thin evidence upon which to project the presence of a larger ‘target,’ Don Álvarez de Toledo,” observed de Viamonte.

“On its own, yes,” Fadrique agreed, “but this sighting was precisely what we were watching for, given what the Free Companies have told us.”

Eguiluz nodded. “I took pains to gather intelligence from pirate captains while they were still at remove from each other, and therefore, were unable to coordinate their stories. Yet their reports usually overlapped in all the crucial particulars: that the English colony is back on St. Christopher’s and stronger than before. That a French colony is also there, but more anemic in its growth and vitality. That both engage in occasional trade with the Free Companies, particularly those on the north coasts of this very island.”

De Viamonte sounded cross. “Here on Hispaniola? Why?”

“It seems, Your Excellency, that when Don Álvarez de Toledo extirpated the colonies on St. Christopher’s in 1629, he took many hundreds of prisoners, particularly the English who stayed to fight at their coastal fort after the French abandoned them and fled into the mountains. Those English prisoners were put to work in haciendas on this very island, and many subsequently escaped to join the boucaniers of Tortuga. In consequence, they still have friends, or at least acquaintances, among the English of St. Christopher, and make use of those prior associations when engaging in trade. It is they who were most recently at the island, trading old muskets to the French, as I understand it. And it is they who report that the Dutch presence on St. Eustatia grew dramatically since last year.”