09 Set Sail and Conquer

by Rick Dean

Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Action/Adventure · #2361311

The Defiance sets sail on their ultimate voyage

Set Sail and Conquer

True to his word, the next morning Captain Scarlett ordered the mainsail hoisted and the Defiance left the shelter of St. Cruz Bay. Also true to his word, Jack Bristol joined the crew. Most of the men did. A couple – including Silent Bill – remained behind, having judged the risks too great.

Red Kelly and couple others had partied through the night, and continued hard at the debauchery in the morning. They had commandeered an entire barrel of wine, set up in the street, and with cutlasses brandished, forced any man who walked past – Defiance crew or not – to drink with them. While some required mild persuasion, none opted for the impolite choice. Alas, when the sun rose and the ship set sail, they had not yet emptied the barrel and they stayed behind.

Despite Captain Scarlett’s attempts at secrecy, word spread through St. Cruz faster than a pox outbreak. This allowed Mr. English to recruit some new hands as replacements. Scarlett recognized one, a veteran hand who called himself Porker. Scarlett had heard countless stories about how he got such a name, any of which might have been true.

That afternoon, half a day out of St. Cruz, Captain Scarlett gathered the men. Mr. English opened a cask of grog to combat the unending heat, and as the men drank, Scarlett informed them of the plan.

“I warned you last night of the dangers, and you chose to join me regardless. For that I thank you. This decision will prove worthy of your loyalty.”

“It better!” barked a man in the back.

Scarlett ignored him. “Xalapa,” he stated. “We sail for Xalapa.”

The men looked around, none wanted to admit their unfamiliarity with the place and found comfort in their mates shared ignorance.

“Do any of you know the last place Henry Morgan raided?”

“Xalapa?” asked Ronnie, one of the Scots trio.

“Good guess,” Scarlett chuckled, “No, but closer than you may realize.”

“He raided Vera Cruz,” Scarlett continued. This was a name the crew knew well.

“Yes,” said Konrad, “but he had hundreds und hundreds of men.”

“And what happened to the treasure of Vera Cruz,” Scarlett asked him.

The blank faces returned.

“Morgan retired a wealthy man after that raid, yet afterward he became the butt of Spanish jokes, for he’d only gotten a small fraction of Vera Cruz’s wealth. A team of trusted Spaniards shipped an entire wagon load of gold up the trail into the jungle; to Xalapa. It’s two days on a mule from Vera Cruz, if you could get past the hordes of soldiers guarding the port. Those men buried the gold just outside the village of Xalapa and before they could return, the natives killed them.

I know this because a woman saw them as they worked. They buried the treasure before they announced themselves in Xalapa, and none of the villagers knew their task, save her. She was not a happy woman. The Spaniard in charge of the village used her as a plaything. Armed with the knowledge of the burial, she fled. First to Vera Cruz, then to Santo Domingo, then she reached to Port Royal.”

He paused and looked at the crew.

“That woman was my mother.”

After a breath of stunned silence, the crew erupted in shock.

“A river flows from the mountains through Xalapa and on to the sea. It exits many miles to the north of Vera Cruz. I choose to sail Defiance instead of a larger ship because of her shallow draft. We sail where the Spanish can’t. And now, we bypass Vera Cruz and sail up this river to Xalapa. The battle lies ahead. With steel and power and might, we will slaughter the village so none may warn Vera Cruz. Then we dig. Make no mistake, men, we’re not at war with Spain these days, so on this voyage we sail under the black flag. Xalapa may be a distant land, but destiny is in our hands! We ride to the heart of battle, and in my dear mother’s name, God will be on our side! Also men,” he gave a final smile, “since we already face death if caught, well maybe, just maybe, we can sack the little city, too. And if it’s still not enough, we stick around and plunder a mule train while we’re there.”

The men cheered again, but this time enthusiasm replaced the shock.

The men trimmed the sails, The Captain took a sighting and adjusted the course, and the breeze filled their sails, pushing them ever westward. The farther west they went, the deeper they sailed into The Spanish Lake.

That evening, as they threw dice and ate their ration of biscuit and stew, the three Scotsmen discussed the mission.

“Either of you lot know what ‘e meant at the end there,” asked Malcolm?

“The Cap’n?”

“Yeah. All that about the mule train.”

They nodded their ignorance.

“It’s the Spanish loot, see,” chimed in Moat. “Sorry for cutting in. I overheard.”

“So, they’re carrying their gold on mules now,” asked Angus?

“Not gold, but all sorts of other loot. See, it’s like this… The Spanish mine gold and silver in South America. Nobody knows where or bloody hell we’d raid there too. They ship the gold up to Panama. Half of it travels overland to Porto Bello and on to the great fortress of Havana.”

“So why ain’t we raiding that?” asked Ronnie.

“It’s guarded by the entire Spanish navy. We’d get blown to bits. They sail out of Havana, through the straits of Florida, up along the coast until the wind turns – they built a fort there, too, called St. Augustine. They can sail right past Nassau and thumb their noses at us and we can’t do anything. They built the fort where the winds change direction and blow the ships East across the ocean and back to Spain. A couple times storms have sunk a ship or two and let me tell you when they do, it’s high times in the Caribbean.”

“So, what does all that have to do with Zalaga, or whatever they call it,” asked Malcolm.

“Xalapa.”

“Close enough.”

Moat continued. “If you remember, I mentioned that only half the gold goes to Spain. The other half goes north and collects at Acapulco. Again, good luck trying to raid there. May as well sail right into Cartagena at high noon. Once a year, the Spanish Fleet takes the gold from Acapulco, and sails across the ocean to The Spice Islands. The gold buys spices, Chinese porcelain, even silk from The Japans. All the luxuries his lordship needs to act like a proper snooty lord, see. Anything exotic and expensive from The Far East, they buy it up. The two East India Companies, that’s British and Dutch, see, in truth they only get the dregs. Yet they still make the whole of both nations rich beyond imagination.”

“I still ain’t heard nuthin’ about no Xalaga or Xalapa or Xa Loot for that matter,” interrupted Angus again.

“Yeah, see, it’s once a year again. After the Spanish buy all this stuff, they sail back to Acapulco. They then trek it overland from Acapulco to Vera Cruz. And from what your Captain says, this Xalapa is the last town before they get to Vera Cruz. It’s so close to Vera Cruz that it’s small and almost undefended. By then, the guards on the mule train just want to get out of that stinking jungle alive. Their guard is down. Half of ‘em will have the bloody flux and the other half will have jungle fever.”

“And we hit them there,” said Ronnie?

“Yes.” Moat finished, “Except I see one problem: where do we sell a ship full of porcelain and silk?”

“Silly,” answered Angus, “even I figured out that part. The real treasure is what’s buried there that Morgan missed. The mule train is just extra if it shows up.”

“That,” added Malcolm, “and there’s no shortage of rich sods in Charles Town, Philadelphia, and Boston. Maybe even a couple in New York. Place is small but it’s still got fat Dutch merchant in its heart.”

“So then,” Ronnie concluded, “we sail up the river, we fire the cannons, storm the walls, and see the city fall.”

“No mercy in the fight!” added Angus.

“Make the sky itself burn with blood!” yelled Malcolm.

“The sky?” asked his brother

“You know what I mean.”

“Idiot.”

“He’s right, though,” interjected Moat, “it will be blood and slaughter. We show them no quarter. This won’t be a fight for the weak of heart. Take their lives and watch them die. Leave your fears behind and keep the treasure on you mind instead.”

“I can’t help but think, concluded Malcolm, “that The Captain wants them all dead as revenge for his mother.”

“That’s probably true,” answered Moat, “but if they're dead it also means no ‘help’ message gets sent to Vera Cruz. If any message goes out, we’re done for. That's the story. Now, drink with me lads.”

He raised a tin mug of grog,

“To death or victory!”

Their questions answered, the three Scotsmen quaffed their evening ration and returned to their friendly bickering over dice.

Meanwhile, in the rear, The Quartermaster knocked on the door which housed The Captain’s tiny quarters. As captain, Scarlett had the only private room on the ship. He used it when writing in his log or for private conversations. It held a bunk but he often slept out on the deck with the crew. The men loved that he slept on the deck like an ordinary sailor, and that was part of the reason they followed him. Of course, Scarlett also slept on the deck because he found it far cooler out there than stuffed inside the little cabin.

“Begging your pardon sir,” Mr. English announced as he stuck his head in the room. The captain sat on his bunk, with a small desk folded down in front of him. He held a quill in his hand, his logbook open.

“You may come in,” Captain Scarlett answered.

Once inside, they dispensed with the formalities.

“Yes, Josiah?” asked The Captain.

“As usual, the men will follow you through hell.”

“I’ve always produced the gold for them. I shan’t wonder that they’d turn on me as fast as any other crew if I didn’t deliver. A Captain only stays captain so long as he wins.”

“I’m not concerned about that. If Xalapa is small as you say we should have no trouble sacking the town. But you never said where they buried the treasure.”

“I know it’s location. It’ll be easy to see when we get there, but difficult to explain.”

“You’re going based on what your mother told you?”

“No.”

“Captain?”

“My mother died in childbirth. My aunt and uncle raised me. As far as I know they ever laid eyes on a Spaniard in their life.”

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