Caribbee Part 65

"Where're the others? There must've been a dozen or so over at Oistins this morning."

"Some were killed near there. The others were captured. Derin told me they were attacked by the militia. Atiba only escaped because he fainted and Derin carried him to safety. The others stayed to fight, to save him, and they were taken."

Her voice cracked. "I heard Master Briggs say the ones who were captured, Obewole and the others, would be burned alive tomorrow."

"Burned alive!"

"All the planters have agreed that is what they must do. It is to be made the punishment on Barbados for any slave who revolts, so the rest of the Africans will always fear the _branco_. "

"Such a thing would never be allowed on English soil."

"This is not your England, senhor. This is Barbados. Where slavery has become the lifeblood of all wealth. They will do it."

"Bedford would never allow . . ." He stopped, and felt his heart wrench. "Good Christ. Now there's no one to stop them. d.a.m.n these bloodthirsty Puritans." He turned to her. "Can you get him down here?

Without being seen?"

"We will try."

"If you can do it, I'll take him."

"And Derin too?"

"In for a penny, in for a pound." His smile was bitter. "Pox on it.

I'll take them both."

"Senhor." She dropped to her knees. "Tell me how I can thank you."

"Just be gone. Before my boys get wind of this." He pulled her to her feet and glanced toward the rain-swept line of seamen carrying water kegs. "They'll not fancy it, you can be sure. I've got worries enough as is, G.o.d knows."

"_Muito, muito obrigada_, senhor." She stood unmoving, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Just go." He stepped around her and moved on down the sh.o.r.e, toward the moored longboat where the men were working. Now John Mewes was standing alongside, minimally supervising the seamen as they stacked kegs. Mingled with his own men were several of the Irish indentures.

"d.a.m.n this squall, Cap'n. We'll not be able to get under way till she lets up. It's no weather for a Christian to be at sea, that I promise you."

"I think it's apt to ease up around nightfall." He checked the clouds again. "What're we needing?"

"Once we get this laded, there'll be water aboard and to spare." He wiped the rain from his eyes and glanced at the sky. "G.o.d knows the whole of the island's seen enough water to float to sea.'Tis salt pork we're wanting now, and biscuit."

"Can we get any ca.s.sava flour?"

"There's scarcely any to be had. The island's half starved, Cap'n."

"Did you check all the warehouses along here?"

"Aye, we invited ourselves in and rifled what we could find. But there's pitiful little left, save batches of moldy tobacco waitin' to be s.h.i.+pped."

"d.a.m.n. Then we'll just have to sail with what we've got." Winston turned and stared down the sh.o.r.e. There had not been any provisions off-loaded from Europe since the fleet arrived. There were no s.h.i.+ps in the harbor now, save the _Defiance _and the _Zeelander_.

The _Zeelander_.

"When's the last time you saw Ruyters?"

"This very mornin', as't happens. He came nosing by to enquire how it was we're afloat, and I told him it must've been the tide lifted her off." Mewes turned and peered through the rain toward the Dutch frigate. "What're you thinking?"

"I'm thinking he still owes me a man, a Spaniard by the name of Vargas, which I've yet to collect."

"That d.a.m.ned b.u.t.terbox'll be in no mood to accommodate you, I swear it."

"All the same, we made a bargain. I want you and some of the boys to go over and settle it." He thumbed at the _Zeelander_, lodged in the sand not two hundred yards down the beach. "In the meantime, I have to go back up to Joan's and collect . . . a few things. Why don't you try and find Ruyters? Get that Spaniard, however you have to do it, and maybe see if he'll part with any of their biscuit."

"Aye, I'll tend to it." He turned to go.

"And John . . ." Winston waved him back.

"Aye."

"We may be having some company before we weigh anchor. Remember that Yoruba we caught on board a few nights back?"

"Aye, I recollect the heathen well enough. I've not seen him since, thank G.o.d, though some of the lads claim there was one up at Oistins this mornin' who sounded a lot like him."

"Same man. I've a mind to take him with us, and maybe another one. But don't say anything to the boys. Just let him on board if he shows up."

"You're the captain. But I'd sooner have a viper between decks as that G.o.dless savage. They're sayin' he and a bunch of his kind gutted a good dozen Englishmen this mornin' like they was no better'n so many Spaniards."

"Well, that's done and past. Just see he gets on board and the boys keep quiet about it."

"They'll not be likin' it, by my life."

"That's an order."

"Aye." Mewes turned with a shrug, whistled for some of the seamen, then headed through the rain, down the sh.o.r.e toward the beached hulk of the _Zeelander.

_

"She's here darlin'." Joan met him at the door. "In back, with the girls."

"How is she?" Winston threw off his wet cape and reached for the tankard of sack she was handing him.

"I think she's starting to understand he's dead now. I guess it just took a while. Now I think it's time you told me a few things yourself.

Why're you taking her? Is't because you're worried the Roundheads might send her back home to be hanged?"

"Is that the reason you want to hear?"

"d.a.m.n your eyes, Hugh Winston. You're not in love with her, are you?"

He smiled and took a sip from the tankard.

"You'd best beware of her, love." She sighed. "That one's not for you.