Capisterre Bay, St. Christopher’s
Pierre d’Esnambuc shook hands with cacique Touman and strolled over to where Jacques Dyel du Parque waited nervously, staring out over the bay into the darkling east. He looked at his nephew’s still-wrapped sleeping roll. “You should get some sleep, my boy,” the older man murmured.
“I will soon,” Jacques lied. “I wish you did not have to go.”
D’Esnambuc sat next to his nephew. “I wish that as well. But I must lead the ships from Dieppe Bay south tomorrow. There is no captain skilled enough that I may delegate the responsibility of overseeing the attack upon the English upon him. And we must not fail in that mission.” He put a hand on his nephew’s arm. Jacques tried very hard to suppress the shiver there. “And you must not fail either, Nephew. But if anything unexpected should occur, stay close to du Plessis.”
“Du Plessis? I thought you said that de l’Olive was more trustworthy, and certainly more loyal to you. And so, more loyal to me.”
“That is true. But de l’Olive is also a hothead and will not think to flee until it is too late. Du Plessis has the one virtue of all cowards: they are quick to their heels. And if he must fly, he will want to rescue you as a means of currying favor with, and forgiveness from, me. And he will be right in expecting that I shall be grateful that he looked out for you.”
Jacques shivered even more. “I will not disappoint you, Uncle Pierre.”
“I know you shall not, dear boy. But do not get carried away and think you must be a captain in this fight. That is not your role. Your role is far more important, for I have many captains, but only one of our number understands enough about up-time machinery to accurately assess it, divine its purposes, and to inflict enough damage upon it to terminate its functions without utterly destroying it.”
“Do you really think Richelieu will be so pleased by having a radio here in the New World? Even though he does not have a matching radio of power in France?”
“‘Pleased?’” D’Esnambuc laughed aloud. “Jacques, if what the disgruntled, and now well-bribed, landholders of St. Eustatia have communicated to us is true, the Gray Eminence would rather get his hands on such a radio than any two islands. Because if this radio may do all the things you have told me, then he will understand readily enough that with it, he might take those two islands and many more besides. Think of the coordination that would be possible, the swift confirmation of successes or failures, the proper deployment of forces to where they are needed in a timely fashion and in the right numbers.” D’Esnambuc shook his well-shaped head. “You have not lived before the mast and on the battlefield, Nephew—may you never have to do either!—but I have, and I may assure you of this: the radio would dramatically shrink the uncertainty, the confusion, and above all, the titanic waste of such adventures. If Richelieu learns that we have such a powerful device in our possession, it means he will send ships and troops to protect it, experts to repair it.” D’Esnambuc thumped the ground in both triumph and annoyance. “The neglect of this colony, of all our island colonies, will be over. Our colonies shall be transformed from a dabbling in New World fortunes to a locus of new and essential power. Our fortunes, and your future, will be assured, my boy.”
“In the meantime,” Jacques wondered aloud, “how will we manage all of them?”
For a moment, d’Esnambuc seemed to stare at the one hundred scruffy Frenchmen who had traveled along with the almost nine hundred Carib warriors to this sparsely settled coastline near St. Christopher’s northern tip. Then he followed further along his nephew’s gaze to the natives. Uncle Pierre smiled, almost apologetically. “Oh, them. I do not see much trouble in the initial years, Jacques. We shall do just as we have promised the Caribs. And when the Spanish come—and be assured, they will—we shall be glad of the Caribs’ friendship. They know these waters better than anyone else, and are excellent scouts. Their small boats may see our tall ships far off, and yet remain unseen themselves. With them, and perhaps with several of these balloons du Plessis has used, we shall see the Spanish coming from afar, and the natives will join us in fighting them off, harrying any troops they land, raiding whatever cachements they establish ashore. And later, when things are secure—well, I suspect that will be beyond my time, Jacques. But more to the point, it is not a matter that needs resolving this day or tomorrow, whereas we already have enough work for those scant hours, wouldn’t you agree? Now, remember, if either du Plessis or de l’Olive resists getting under way before midnight, you must support Touman against them. The cacique is not lazy, and he understands best how long it will take to cross the passage and make an unobserved predawn landing on the windward side of St. Eustatia. Our countrymen will not be mindful of such details that the natives shall rightly deem critical. For instance, the Caribs will want to allow an hour to hide their boats on that part of the shore where the trees come down close to the water. You have seen well enough that such cover is sparse on the windward side of these islands, and the few trees that grow there are stunted and bent by the constant breeze. The natives understand the need to conceal their boats, and appreciate the time it will take to achieve that. They must be in charge of the maritime portion of your journey, and its timing. However, once you are ashore, Touman knows he must defer to du Plessis and to you.