across the clearing, Serina at his side. The Yoruba still had his
cutlass at his waist, and Serina, her white shift torn and stained from
the underbrush, was now carrying a Spanish flintlock. When she saw
Briggs, she hesitated a second, startled, then advanced on him.
"My damnd Niger!" The planter abruptly recognized them and started to
reach for his pistol. "The very one who tried to kill me, then made off
with my _mulata_ . . ."
Serina lifted her musket and cocked it, not missing a step. "Leave your
gun where it is, Master Briggs, unless you want me to kill you. He is
free now."
"He's a damn'd runaway." Briggs halted. "And I take it you're in with
him now. Well, I'll not be having the two of you loose on this island,
that much I promise you."
Serina strode directly to where he stood. "I am free now too." Her
voice was unwavering. "You can never take me back, if that's what you
have come here to do."
"We'll damn'd well see about that. I laid out good money for the both .
. ."
"There are many free _preto_ on this island. To be black here does not
mean I have to be slave. It is not like an Ingles settlement. I have
learned that already. The Spaniard at the _vigia_ told me there is a
free nation of my people here."
Atiba had moved beside her, gripping the handle of his cutlass. "I do
not know why you have come, whoreson _branco_, but there will be war
against you, like there was on Barbados, if you ever try to enslave any
of my peoples living in this place."
"There'll be slaves here and plenty, sirrah. No runaway black is going
to tell an Englishman how to manage his affairs. Aye, there'll be war,
you may depend on it, till every runaway is hanged and quartered. And
that includes you in particular . . ."
He was suddenly interrupted by a barrage of firing from the woods
behind them, and with a curse he whirled to stare. From out of the
trees a line of Spanish militia was emerging, together with a column of
blacks, all bearing muskets. They wore tall helmets and knelt in ranks
as they methodically began firing on the English infantry. Briggs
paused a second, then ducked and bolted.
"Hugh, we've got to get out of here. Now." Katherine seized his arm
and started to pull him into the shelter of the breastwork.
Shouts rose up, while helmets and breastplates jangled across the
clearing as the English infantrymen began to scatter. Morris
immediately cocked his musket and returned fire, bringing down a
Spanish musketman, then yelled for his men to find cover. In moments
the morning air had grown opaque with dark smoke, as the infantry
hurriedly retreated to the trees on the opposite side of the clearing
and began piling up makeshift barricades of brush.
"Senhor, I think the damnable war has already begun," Atiba yelled to
Winston as he followed Serina around the corner of the breastwork.
"That it has, and I for one don't want any part of it." He looked back.
"Katy, what do you say we just take our people and get on down to the
Point? Let Morris try and fight them over the rest."
She laughed, coughing from the smoke. "They can all be damned. I'm not
even sure whose side I want to be on anymore."
While Briggs and Calvert huddled with Morris behind the barricade being
set up by the English infantrymen, the four of them quickly made their
way around the side of the fort, out of the shooting. Bartholomew was
waiting by the oak door, the seamen crowded around. Now the fortress
was smpty, while a musket battle between the Spanish and the English
raged across the clearing on its opposite side.
"I've told the lads," he shouted above the din. "They're iust as
pleased to be out of here, that I'll warrant you, now that we've lost
all chance to surprise the town. I'd say we're ready to get back over
to the Point and see what it is we've managed to come up with."
"Good." Winston motioned them forward.
As he led them down the trail, Katherine at his side, he felt a tug at
his sleeve and turned to see Atiba.
"I think we will not be going with you, my friend." The Yoruba was
grim. "Dara says if there is to be a war against the Ingles _branco_
here, then we must join it. This time I believe a woman's counsel is
wise."
"You'd get tangled up in this fray?"
"It could be a damnable long war, I think. Perhaps much years. But I
would meet these free people of my blood, these Maroons."
"But we're going to take the harbor here. You could . . ."
"I am not a man of the sea, my friend. My people are of the forest.
That is what I know and where I want to be. And that is where I will
fight the Ingles, as long as I have breath."
"Well, see you take care. This may get very bad." Winston studied him.
"We're headed down to the Point. You'll always be welcome."
"Then I wish you fortune. Your path may not be easy either. These
damnable Ingles may try to come and take it away from you."
"If they do, then they don't know what a battle is. We're going to make
a free place here yet. And mark it, there'll come a day when
slaveholders like Briggs will be a blot on the name of England and the
Americas. All anybody will want to remember from these times will be
the buccaneers."
"That is a fine ambition." He smiled, then glanced down at Serina. "I
wonder what becomes of this island now, with all of us on it."
"I will tell you." She shifted her musket. "We are going to bring these
Ingles to their knees. Someday they will come to us begging." She
reached up and kissed Katherine, then lightly touched Winston's hand.
Finally she prodded Atiba forward, and in moments they were gone,
through the trees.
"Hugh, I'm not at all sure I like this." Katherine moved next to him as
they continued on down the hill toward the dugouts. Bartholomew was
ahead of them now, leading the _boucaniers_. "I thought we were going
to capture an island. But all we've ended up with is just a piece of
it, a harbor, and all these criminals."
"Katy, what did you once say about thinking you could have it all?"
"I said I'd learned better. That sometimes you've got to settle for
what's possible." She looked up at him. "But you know I wasn't the only
one who had a dream. Maybe you wanted a different kind of independence,
but you had some pretty grand ideas all the same."
"What I wanted was to take Jamaica and make it a free place, but after
what's happened today nobody's going to get this island for a long,
long time."
She looked up to see the river coming into view through the trees, a
glittering ribbon in the early sun. "Then why don't we just make
something of what we have, down there on the Point? For ourselves."
He slipped an arm around her and drew her against him.
"Shall we give it a try?"
* * * * *