Winning, p.17
Winning, page 17
part #3 of Sailing Orders Series
James became aware of the growing sound of music from the main street beyond the market. The people around them began to react to the music, the murmur of conversation grew louder. Godden nudged him in the back, nodded to the girl and said, “Off you go, lad, I’ll keep an eye on the lass.”
James smiled at Sophia and she took his hand, he allowed himself to be towed off to the source of the music.
Godden watched them go and turned back to watch Julia just in time to see the two men follow the housekeeper and Julia back toward the clock-makers shop.
A watcher could have been forgiven for not realising that Godden had been there in the first place. The two followers after Julia and her companion certainly had no reason to worry, after all both were well skilled at their trade. Their first shock came when Julia turned and thrust the pistol into the throat of the nearest man.
“We have not been introduced, Senor, I am at a loss, why are you following my friend and me?”
The man found it difficult to talk as the muzzle of the pistol was pressed against his larynx. The knife in his hand was feeling slippery from his suddenly sweating hand. He did not understand why his partner had not stepped in and at least threatened the other woman. He was totally unaware that his companion was no longer conscious, in fact he was only now aware that the pistol had been cocked, and death was a very real prospect.
The knife in his hand was removed and the pistol also. Only the hand on his neck was constricting his breathing.
“Don’t kill him yet, Godden, I would like to know who sent him.”
“Very good, madam, his friend seems to have collapsed, will you tell this man to pick him up and bring him with us please.”
Julia spoke and their dismayed prisoner collected his fallen friend and dragged him down the alley beside the shop and dumped him in the shed behind the house.
Julia lifted an eyebrow?
Godden shrugged and shut the shed door, pushing the live one through the back door into the back room of the shop.
“Now who sent you?” Julia said sweetly. She removed a small stiletto from her bag and tossed it in the air and caught it by the tip, flipped it again and allowed it to fall to the table the tip plunging into the space between the thumb and first finger of her right hand. She made absolutely no attempt to avoid the weapon, demonstrating clearly that she knew where it would land.
The prisoner was spellbound.
“Who sent you?” Julia said once more. She pulled the stiletto from the table and started flipping it in her hand.
“Major Jimenez.” He said in a whisper.
“And what were your orders?”
“We were to find out who you were and where you came from.” The words were strained as the tension of the situation took its toll.
“Then what?” The questions kept coming.
“Use you first and then kill you.” The monotone was now sounding hopeless, as the man realised that he was as good as dead already.
“Where do we find this Major Jimenez?”
“He is in command of the la Cuartel, the barracks, in the City.”
“Where does he live?” Julia asked.
The man shrugged and rolled his shoulders, “I don’t know.”
The housekeeper said, “He is lying, everyone knows the Major stays at the house of the Governor while the Governor is away.”
***
James and Sophia found the music in the square opposite the Governors Palace. There were stalls set up and banners fluttering in the breeze and in several places there were musicians playing for individual dancers, surrounded by friends. The music was for the flamenco, favoured by the gipsy people in their Spanish homeland, and recently adopted by the local musicians because of the excitement the music generated, and the drama of the dance. Sophia spun away and started to click her fingers and stamp her heels to the wild music. The folk nearby turned and applauded as she spun and whirled to the beat of the strumming guitars, a singer was following the music with snapping fingers, her dark complexion indicating her gypsy origins.
She sang faster taking the music with her and Sophia responded, her feet tapping in time with the music, her skirt swirling as she spun to and fro.
With a flourish the guitars brought the music to a close and Sophia fell into James’s arms, accompanied by the clapping of the bystanders.
“Fun eh?” The English words whispered in his ear shocked James who had not realised the Sophia spoke the language.
The feel of the nubile young body in his arms, her breath tickling his ear brought a reaction from James that was new to his young life. Up until now girls had been friends, like boys. Well, not quite like boys, but then he did not know many girls anyway. This girl with her startling blue eyes and her disturbing body was a new experience for the boy. She stood back smiling, well aware of the effect she was having on her fourteen-year-old companion.
At the age of fourteen she was more adult than many girls of the same age elsewhere. Many of her childhood playmates were already married, and two had children. She was grateful to her grandfather, who had insisted on her being educated to the extent of his own education, which had meant less opportunity to indulge in the games played by the others in her age group.
Flirting with James was fun and she was enjoying the game.
There was a murmur among the people of the crowd nearby, they were unhappy about the small group of men who were purposely pushing their way through the crowd. The mutter was of bandolera; it was the name given to the plain-clothed men used by the Major for what he called discreet operations. In a place like Valdivia there was no such thing as a discreet operation. The plain-clothed people were all known by the public. They were known as the bandolera because they tended to take whatever they wanted.
They were hated, and wherever they could be they were obstructed. In this case there was an almost immovable crowd that was preventing the Major’s men from making their way through.
Looking at the source of the crowd’s interest, Sophia grabbed James by the hand and whispered, “Time to go I believe.” With that she was off away from the frustrated bandolera.
The crowd split to allow them through. They ran and walked for over an hour before they stopped on a hilltop at a small group of trees. There was an open stretch of grass in the sunshine, where they had a good view in all directions. There Sophia lay down on the grass in the sun and hauled James down next to her.
***
In the shop, the return of Godden meant that the two prisoners had been disposed of. Julia had a suspicion that the actual disposal was possibly permanent. While she was pragmatic she was still admittedly rather squeamish about cold blooded murder. In fact her fears were groundless. It was easier to transport the two men while they were conscious. Their disposal was accomplished by delivery to the fisherman who had brought the party into the city in the first place. He undertook to leave the men down coast where there were no roads north, and no sympathy for the Major or his men.
Chapter twenty-one
Gunfire and Politics
When James Woods and Sophia left their sunny sanctuary, his education in the relationship between men and women had been expanded. For him, the discoveries of the day had been astonishing, highlighting his innocence up to this time.
Hand in hand, they returned to the city; Sophia keeping a wary eye out for the searchers from earlier. They approached the shop with caution and were greeted by Godde, from the shadows. “Have a good time, sir?”
James stammered “Why, y-yes Godden, thank you. We had a fine time.”
Godden grinned in the darkness. Having seen the girl, he guessed they really did have fun.
James and Sophia entered the shop, and found the others prepared to eat. Julia had been worried about their lengthy absence, but reassured by Mendoza, she had contained her worry.
The report about the men in the square had been disturbing but it seemed they had got away with it.
***
Martin arranged with Captain Brooks for the Castletown to sail for Valdivia with the entire party of Marines on board. Major Bristow was primed to take over the security of the city from the militia run by Major Jimenez. Through Mr. Weeks the supercargo was prepared to open trade with the local merchants in Valdivia, convinced that the goods they had brought would be welcomed in the city.
The Alderney was keeping watch to ensure the departure of the Rosario before the Castletown entered the port.
Her signal to the waiting East Indiaman was her last act before making all sail for the rendezvous with the Asterid. She shadowed the Rosario to Conception Bay just over 150 miles to the north, where the sound of the guns marked the place where the attack on the Castillo had commenced.
The Rosario approached the Sierra Nova, the 44gun frigate captained by the leader of the mutiny, Commodore Rodrigo Ramirez. The Commodore ceased fire and withdrew out of range of the Castillo’s guns to confer with his associate.
Martin and Hammond had discussed their roles in the attack they were about to make, taking into account the onshore drift in the region. Asterid was sheltered at the moment behind the Punta de Fraile, the headland at the northern end of Conception Bay.
The appearance of the Alderney was a shock for the Commodore, who was unaware of any other ships or force in the area. The onshore drift was pulling both Sierra Nova and Rosario shoreward as they sat close to each other, discussing the appearance of the Alderney which was flying British colours.
As far as they were aware, there was no dispute between Spain and Britain, and certainly the British ship was not showing signs of aggression.
Ramirez decided to meet with the new arrival himself and find out what they were doing in the area. He gave orders to stand off from the shore and meet with the new arrival, leaving the Rosario to threaten the Castillo.
It was a shock to hear the guns of the Castillo opening fire as the Sierra Nova clawed her way offshore.
The Rosario had drifted closer to the shore and within range of the guns of the Castillo.
The gunfire hurt the Rosario badly. The battery at the Castillo had heated shot to use against the attacking ships and the first salvo fired at the Rosario had included the entire capacity of the heating arrangements. A total of three heated shots had struck the unfortunate ship and a trail of fire had followed the first to strike the deck, ending against the mainmast and setting the sheets tied to the fife rail alight, the flames leaped up the dried ropes to the tarred rigging at the lower mast-head, the heat melted the tar and set fire to the ratlines. The mainsail caught and the out of control wave of fire leapt skyward helped by the breeze and set the topsails alight.
The crew of the Rosario rushed about, the shouted orders of the captain ignored in the panic. The captain tried to heel the ship to allow the wind to take the stricken ship offshore and out of the range of the Castillo guns. Despite his efforts the ship drifted inexorably shoreward.
The continuing fire from the fort was causing the ship real problems, the attempts to return fire by the gun crews on the ship were becoming more and more panicky as strips of burning canvas from the sails above dropped to the deck, and in one case into a tub of cartridges which blew-up killing the gun crew, and scattering the flaming residue across the deck.
The mizzen mast fell to another strike from the fortress guns, and the Rosario, now completely out of control drifted helplessly deep into the bay, where it grounded in the shallows, still under the continued pounding from the guns of the Castillo. The surviving officers and crew abandoned her and waded ashore, where they stood and watched as the Castillo and the fire destroyed the stranded ship. As they stood and watched, a crowd assembled silently behind them. From the walls of the Castillo it was possible to see the survivors being taken.
The reception the survivors from the Rosario received was unfriendly. The local populace were dependant in part at least, upon the trade with the Castillo. And since they were protected by the guns of the fortress, they were not about to support people who were attacking their protectors.
The Commodore on the Sierra Nova was furious. He had watched impotently as his support ship was lost. His fury increasing as each part of the building disaster occurred, eventually he turned his attention to the British ship still some distance away. Noting now that despite its warlike armament it was flying a merchant ensign, which meant it was a private ship.
He swung round to his First Lieutenant, “Are the guns reloaded?”
“Yes sir, but not run out.”
“Good, when we get within range, run out and crush her, before she knows what is happening.”
“Yes sir!” The First Lieutenant looked at his captain warily, watching him as he turned away. Over the past few months he had seen the man change from a sensible intelligent man into the angry short-tempered person he had become. He was concerned because he believed his captain was ill and refusing treatment, making his condition worse. The Doctor in the City was wary of talking to the new authorities who had taken over the area arbitrarily. But he had confirmed that he thought, from observation combined with rumour, that the Commodore had become infected with what he guessed was syphilis.
Rodrigo Ramirez was angry, it seemed it was a regular condition these days. He could not get comfortable for some reason. Parts of his body always seemed to be causing him pain, and even lovemaking which had always been a pleasure no longer satisfied him as it once had. He gazed out at the strange ship, it was rigged and seemed armed as a frigate, but it had to be a privateer, flying a merchant flag.
As the Sierra Nova tried to close the Alderney it became apparent that the British ship was keeping her distance.
When the Asterid appeared from around the headland, it enraged the Commodore to the extent his officers feared he would have a fit.
“Get me in range of that ship,” he shrieked. I’ll sink her and then take the other intruder in her turn.
At this point, Hammond noted the moment of indecision by the captain of the Sierra Nova. In the Alderney, he let her head fall off the wind, and swooped down on the Sierra Nova with guns being run out, and marksmen in the tops.
Taken by surprise the Sierra Nova ran out her guns also but the move that allowed Alderney to get in her broadside was of little use to the Spanish ship, which managed to fire some of her guns, but only managed to tear two holes in the mainsail of her opponent.
The Alderney fire damaged the gun deck of Sierra Nova causing casualties among the gun crews and smashing the boats which had not been set loose as was normal when going into battle. The mayhem caused by the splintering of the boats cost the Spanish most of the people on deck. The Commodore himself was wounded as a splinter ripped down his arm and lodged in his side.
Alderney did not stay to fight but sailed off to leave the field clear for the Asterid which was approaching fast.
The result of the first strike by Alderney was decisive. The Sierra Nova captained by the bloody wounded Commodore, who was by now probably completely mad, was in no state to face the experienced well-drilled crew of the Asterid.
After the ships had exchanged two broadsides, the First Lieutenant called for the Commodore to haul down the colours. The Commodore screamed at him and raised his sword to slash at him. The Lieutenant shot his mad captain without hesitation and called for the colours to be lowered.
Looking around the bloody deck strewn with bodies and wreckage, Martin was sickened at the waste of lives, and damage to a good sound ship.
***
Anchored off the Castillo. the soldiers from the fortress took charge of the surviving crew members along with the survivors from the beached Rosario.
Martin discussed matters with the Colonel in command. As a result a company of his soldiers joined the ships for the voyage to Valdivia, to take over security duties from the militia.
The Colonel himself joined them as they sailed in company with the battered Sierra Nova the 150 miles south to the City, where they found the Castletown already moored alongside.
In the city meanwhile the Marines who had drifted ashore without attracting attention gathered up the roving patrols of bandolera, helpfully pointed out by selected friends of the Alberto Mendoza, the clock-maker.
Quietly and efficiently they patrolled the city under the guidance of the local patriots, and gathered the small groups of Jimenez’s men where ever they could be found. On three occasions they found people being assaulted, which led to immediate punishment from which two men did not recover, and left several others wishing they had not recovered.
***
The major himself was in the Governor's Palace dining when Major Bristow called. Jimenez looked up at the Major’s entrance, the green uniform with the black buttons were an unfamiliar sight. The remainder of the major's attire was however quite recognisable. The sword, pistol and the slung rifle, were all quite familiar and, showing sense, Jimenez did not make the mistake of reaching for the weapon he had concealed under the dining table. Realising that the servant standing behind his chair was not the man appointed to the task saved his life at that moment.
“I can smell that my servant is no longer behind my chair, so I will ask you politely, Major, who the hell are you, and what are you doing here?”
Bristow clicked his heels with a sharp click and said, “Major Alan Bristow. His Britannic Majesties Royal Marines at your service.”
“Why are you here disturbing my meal?”
“I am here to place you and your militia under arrest on behalf of the Spanish government.” He nodded to the sergeant standing behind Jimenez. The sergeant jerked the major from his chair and up to his feet, securing his hands behind him with a loop of rope.
The protesting major was frog-marched from the Palace and paraded through the streets to the barracks where the rest of the militia were being held. By this time there were sufficient people on the streets to make the city aware that the current regime was being replaced. The sight of the Spanish colours flying over the captured barracks was sufficient indication to the populace that the rule of law had been re-established in the city.
