Tim Severin - Sea Robber

‘How about Governor Costana? Does he feel the same?’ asked Jacques offhandedly. He intended to lead the conversation around to the Governor and his domestic arrangements. That way he would be able to tell Hector whether Maria was living in the fort.

‘He was posted here from Peru. The result of some scandal, I believe. He brought his wife with him, Doña Juana. A fine woman. She too has a sense of duty.’

From the parade ground came the sound of the chapel bell striking noon. To Jacques’ disappointment, Esplana got to his feet. ‘I would ask you to join us for our midday meal. But frankly our cook is useless, and the sooner you carry my message back to your vessel, the happier I will be.’

As Jacques accompanied the Spaniard outside, he thought quickly.

‘Commandant, I have a small favour to ask.’

‘What is it?’

‘That vegetable garden . . .’

‘It varies an otherwise monotonous diet.’

‘Would it be possible for me to carry back some of the produce to the ship? I see there are some carrots and celery. My captain would greatly appreciate some green stuff on his table.’

‘Of course. I’ll have a man select what you need.’

‘And we are also short of spices. I understand this island produces excellent ginger.’

Esplana smiled. ‘You live up to your nation’s reputation. Our mess cook is so incompetent he thinks salt is an exotic spice. But maybe the Governor’s kitchen has some ginger to spare. If you will accompany me, I will make enquiries.’

They walked across to the main entrance of the administration building. Esplana knocked. The door was opened by a maidservant in her teens. She wore a shawl worked with Peruvian patterns, and Jacques guessed she’d been brought from South America with the Governor’s entourage. She curtsied politely.

‘Ask your mistress if we may speak with her cook,’ Esplana said.

The girl held the door open for them to step inside and disappeared into an inner room to consult her mistress.

A moment later a door opened, and a young, handsome, dark-haired woman dressed in a plain brown skirt and grey bodice stepped out.

‘Sarjento Mayor,’ she said, ‘I’m afraid our cook is not here. He accompanied the Governor.’ Her glance took in Jacques and for a heartbeat she seemed to falter.

‘May I introduce Monsieur Brodart of the French ship Gaillon ,’ said Esplana. He turned to Jacques. ‘I have the pleasure of introducing Señorita Maria da Silva.’

Jacques bowed. ‘Delighted to meet you, Señorita.’

Maria looked at him strangely.

Esplana was in a hurry. ‘I apologize for disturbing you, Señorita. We had a small question for the cook, but we can discuss it another time. Monsieur Brodart is on his way back to his ship.’ He ushered Jacques out of the house. Jacques only had time to bow once more. As he did so, he deliberately held her gaze and willed her to recognize him.

HECTOR HAD waited anxiously for Jacques’ return. The moment the messenger boat came alongside the Nicholas, he climbed down to help his friend lift a basket of vegetables from the bilge. ‘Did you see Maria?’ he whispered.

The Frenchman nodded.

‘How is she?’ Hector’s voice was hoarse with tension.

‘She is fine.’

‘Did you manage to speak to her?’

‘No. I had to get away. The Governor’s wife might have shown up. If Doña Juana had recognized me, that would have been a disaster.’

An impatient shout from Eaton put an end to their hurried conversation.

‘I will tell you more later, Hector,’ Jacques muttered as he scrambled up the ship’s side.

Eaton and Arianz listened carefully to what Jacques had to say about his visit to the Presidio. ‘Sounds like we could storm the fort,’ said Arianz.

‘And for very little reward,’ Eaton retorted sharply. ‘I have a better idea. Call the men together.’

With the crew of the Nicholas assembled in the waist of the ship, Eaton asked Jacques to repeat to them what he had witnessed in Guahan. ‘Don’t leave anything out, including your conversation with the Sarjento Mayor.’

When Jacques had finished speaking – omitting only his encounter with Maria – Eaton raised his voice.

‘I propose we wait here at anchor until we receive our gift of gunpowder.’

There was a general mutter of agreement. Even those most eager to continue the homeward voyage preferred to sail in a ship that could use her cannon.

Eaton paused for effect. Then he announced, ‘Immediately afterwards, we sail north.’

There was a puzzled silence. ‘What for?’ someone shouted. ‘We’d be better leaving this shithole.’

‘Because we would be turning our backs on the biggest prize of all if we didn’t,’ called Eaton.

‘What’s that?’ He had their full attention now.

‘The Acapulco Galleon. You heard the Frenchman. The vessel carries the silver from New Spain to pay for a year’s worth of silks and valuables that have accumulated in Manila.’

‘We can never take a galleon. She’ll be too big, too well armed, too many men aboard.’ As Eaton had expected, the objection came from the elderly, balding deckhand who always found fault.

‘The Acapulco Galleon will have been eleven weeks at sea,’ Eaton countered. ‘Her crew will be on short rations, tired and slack. It’s the moment to attack.’

‘But there will still be one or two hundred men aboard. Even if they’re famished, that is more than we can handle.’

‘We won’t be alone.’ There was a triumphant, calculating look on Eaton’s face.

‘What do you mean?’ called another voice.

‘I propose that we enlist the help of the indios.’

There was a surprised but thoughtful silence from the assembled crew.

‘And how could they help us?’ Eaton saw that the speaker was the Dutchman, Stolck.

‘We take the Acapulco Galleon by surprise.’ Eaton was relishing the chance to display his cunning. ‘When the vessel enters the strait, our Chamorro allies will go out in their canoes to meet the ship, as is their custom. No one on board the galleon will suspect anything.’ He paused to look out over the expectant faces of his men. ‘As usual the Chamorro will offer to barter. Hidden among them will be some of us with our muskets. At the right moment we spring our ambush, shoot down the helmsmen, board the ship. We can rely on the indios to deal with the rest.’

There was an interval while his audience digested the audacity of the plan.

‘I wouldn’t trust those heathens,’ shouted the old man. ‘They’d slit our throats.’

But his shipmates were looking at one another, considering the captain’s proposal. Some were doubtful. They didn’t like the idea of working with the natives, and said so. Others were more excited. There was a babble of comment, nearly all of it favourable. Suddenly the loot from a rich Spanish galleon seemed within their grasp.

Arianz stepped up to the rail. ‘We put it to the vote. Those in favour of attempting to seize the Acapulco Galleon, raise your hands.’

The quartermaster counted the vote.

‘Those who would continue on for home.’

Fewer hands rose.

‘Then it’s decided.’

Standing among the men, Hector’s mind was in turmoil. He was giddy with excitement that he had located Maria. She was alive and apparently well, and he longed to see her. For a mad moment he toyed with the idea of deserting the Nicholas , swimming ashore, finding his way to the Presidio and locating Maria. But he knew that was utterly impractical. It would mean abandoning his friends, which he couldn’t do, and it was reckless. Governor Costana, when he came back from campaign, would be merciless. In his eyes Hector was still a murderous sea robber. Maria, who had once seemed so far away, was very much closer. But in another sense she was still as distant as she had ever been.