“But as months wore on, he could only report more silence, and ultimately he and Don de Viamonte considered the Armada de Barlovento lost and the matter closed. Except that then, we must assume that Don de Viamonte—whose physical infirmities and less than dazzling personality have never interfered with his ability to perform as one of Spain’s most prudent regional administrators—no doubt sent word to Governor Gamboa in Cuba, along with a request to reconstitute the Barlovento. That worthy may or may not have initially agreed, but over time, it is hard to imagine that he would not ultimately concede to such an appeal. After all, how many times have four warships disappeared without a trace, unless they were engaged by a similar or greater force of adversaries? Pirates flee from strong adversaries, particularly a flotilla of them. So the thinking in Hispaniola and Cuba by early this year must have come round to entertaining the possibility that there is a rival power somewhere in the New World: a power that has reason to attack, and apparently seize or sink, four Spanish men-o’-war. And here’s the lucky part, van Galen: they still haven’t sent a reconstituted Barlovento south, to follow the path of the first. Because if they did, what’s the first major island they’d come to after departing St. Maarten?”
Van Galen’s eyes cheated sideways slightly to look at the outlines of Oranjestad.
“That’s right, they’d come here. St. Eustatia. If the Spanish knew the problem was so close to their own holdings in Hispaniola and Puerto Rico, they’d waste no time exterminating us en masse. We’re too close to the Flota’s return route to Spain, too close to their silver pipeline. And too close to major ports that we could fall upon with little warning.” Simonszoon leaned back, his dark eyes lusterless. “If you haven’t given thought to all that, Captain van Galen, it’s time you did. And while you do, consider this piece of extreme good luck: that Marten Thijssen’s attack upon and investiture of Curaçao occurred, by blind chance, at precisely the right time to give the Spanish a completely plausible source for completely erroneous conjectures. Specifically, that the Barlovento must have run afoul of Thijssen’s flotilla and been sunk. Otherwise, they’d have been looking out for another explanation. Meaning, us.”
Pieter Floriszoon was still staring at the map. “Frankly, it seems impossible that they still don’t know we are here. It has been a year since we arrived, almost three since Oranjestad was established, and they haven’t once checked on what they claim to be their possession?”
Van Walbeeck shrugged. “This is not uncommon for the Spanish, Pieter. The Spanish haven’t made landfall in the Leeward Antilles since they shattered the English and French colonies on St. Christopher’s in 1629. They never even bothered to return to ensure that the English colonists who fled into the mountains didn’t reestablish their settlement. Which they did. With a vengeance.”
“Yet they must have word of the rebuilt colony. Its goods travel back to Europe, and its port is not unknown.”
“Not unknown, yet almost never visited except by us. And the Spanish will hear less of those goods in Europe now. Charles the First has forsaken England’s New World colonies and so has all but lost contact with his subjects—or former subjects—here. An English ship has no business in New World waters, these days. The French are said to be attempting to revivify their Compagnie de Saint-Christophe to grow their colony on St. Christopher, but seem to have a hard time attracting the focused attention of their primary patron, Richelieu. So, except for the two buccaneers we intercepted last winter, who visits these waters anymore?”
“And the Spanish are not curious after losing the three ships they sent south from St. Maarten earlier this year?”
“I am sure they are curious, but Thijssen’s attack on Curaçao does offer a likely explanation. Far more so than the proposition that the last Dutch fleet in the world lies lurking, almost immobile, in the Leeward Islands. And when it comes to the losses of their individual ships to Houtebeen and our other raiders, common pirates are a far more likely explanation. Or an opportunistic attack by the god- and king-forsaken English who still endure on Bermuda, Barbados, New Providence, St. Christopher’s and Antigua.”
Simonszoon muttered, “Some are in the Bahamas, now. On Eleuthera, mostly, if the rumors are true.”
Tromp nodded. “I am half-ready to believe those reports. Without regular resupply from home, the English on Bermuda have the same problem we do: too many people and too little cultivated land. Only their crisis is ten times greater. They outnumber us here by at least five-to-one, and Bermuda is not particularly arable. Or furnished with larger neighboring islands, as we are. So of course the English there must strike out toward better sources of sustenance.”