“First, their chickens are remarkably small. And it was a country so poor they could only feed them to the people about once a week.”
“I see, Oitotan. I trust you did not voice that observation out.”
“I did not speak first. I only answered when asked.”
“Pardon?”
“What?”
What in God’s name happened in Paris?
Regardless.
From what I gathered after Oitotan’s return from Paris, the negotiations in France seemed to have concluded successfully. Furthermore, he said they received a considerable gift of gold and silver from the French King.
“He is quite favorable toward us! Such an unexpected gift!”
“I know! His Majesty the King of France must truly value Virginia!”
As Hewitt and Eleanor marveled, Raleigh offered a bitter smile.
“I wonder. It may just be a way to save face.”
“Save face? What do you mean by that, my Lord Baron?”
“It means France is not in a position to intervene directly. Henry IV’s situation is precarious, we are across the Atlantic, and their opponent is Spain, is it not?”
“Well, that is true.”
Raleigh walked over to me as I examined the gifts Oitotan had brought, bowing his head to report.
“It seems unlikely Henry IV can offer direct assistance. If he could, he would have answered with warships and cannons, not gifts like these. Of course, French aid will continue, but it seems difficult to expect any immediate effect.”
“I understand.”
Still, we had at least secured a friendly relationship with France. While it wasn’t a mutual defense pact with automatic entry into war, we had promised each other various benefits that amounted to something close.
Above all, granting Henry the trade monopoly was a significant move. From our perspective, it was a step we needed to take anyway to filter out just any merchant, so it was a bargain where we lost nothing. And indeed, as time passed, French merchant ships began to return to the port, one or two at a time. Our efforts with France had clearly had an effect. In this way, Virginia soon regained its peace. We relaxed, and the supply of luxury goods began to normalize.
The pillars of the cathedral once again rose toward the sky. Spices returned to the people’s tables. And I was able to enjoy coffee again during my camping trips.
It was just as this ordinary life was returning, just as I was gathering my camping gear and inviting people to join me, that it happened.
“Huh?”
“What is it, Eleanor?”
“Ah, no, it’s just, strange. Do you see something on the horizon?”
“I do. It looks like a ship.”
“There aren’t any ships scheduled to arrive at Croatoan at this time. Why would one be out there?”
“Eleanor?”
“Yes? What is it?”
“Take Virginia and get away from the coast. Now. It’s dangerous.”
“What?”
“And alert the nearest watchtower. Ah, no. I’ll do it.”
“Wh-What is it? I can’t see clearly… Whoa!”
I shoved Eleanor toward the inner part of the beach and broke into a run toward the nearby watchtower, shouting as I went.
“That ship is flying a Spanish flag!”
Moreover, based on what Raleigh had taught me, its silhouette was absolutely not that of a merchant vessel.
A Spanish warship had arrived just off the coast of Croatoan.
***
“That is Chesapeake Bay! According to our reconnaissance, it appears to be one of the English rabble’s main strongholds!”
“By now, the others have likely reached the waters near Croatoan or Roanoke Island as well.”
The captain had a habit of talking to himself during the tedious days at sea. His adjutant stood by silently, but snapped to attention when the captain finally addressed him in a commanding voice.
“Adjutant, the location of their batteries?”
“Lookout! Where are the enemy cannons!”
“Sir… Good Lord, they seem to be covering the entire coastline!”
“They’re insane.”
The captain clicked his tongue at the shout from the crow’s nest, peering at the distant Chesapeake Bay. As he squinted, the image sharpened, and he could begin to make out dark shapes moving along the coast.
‘Dark shapes.’ They were the infamous English-made cast-iron cannons.
The very same cannons that had caused Spain so much grief—costing a fraction of the price of bronze cannons but boasting a respectable quality. How much trouble had Spanish soldiers endured on land and sea because the English, and even the Dutch, had imported and used them?
But now, seeing those cast-iron cannons, the captain let out a light whistle.
Just as I thought. They wouldn’t have installed expensive bronze cannons in this remote colony.
The only reason cast-iron cannons had ever been a nuisance to the Spanish army was simple: volume. Because the materials were easy to procure and the price was low, the English had threatened Spanish forces with innumerable iron-cannon-armed ships and armies.
But now, they were the attackers, and those were the defenders. They were moving freely upon the sea, while their enemy was fixed upon the island.
In this situation, what if they used their bronze cannons—superior in both range and firing rate—to bombard the enemy from outside their effective range? They could rain down hell and flee without a single scratch.
The captain had no intention of landing at Chesapeake Bay right now. He had received no such orders. Their forces there could number in the thousands; a rash landing attempt would only get them slaughtered.
His life was precious.
And it was even more precious to the Viceroy of New Spain, who could not afford to lose significant resources here.
Therefore, the strategy they were to employ was singular.
Harass the enemy coast.
Chip away at them.
Isolate their colony.
Meticulous investigation had revealed that their settlements were scattered across various locations, with a massive volume of shipping moving between them. If they could just sever that logistical artery, the enemy would fall into chaos.
He gave a sharp nod, convinced of victory, and the soldiers began to load the cannons. And,
K-K-KOOM!
The earth trembled. The enemy’s batteries, built surprisingly well, did not crumble easily, and it appeared there were no casualties.
The Spanish cautiously gauged the enemy’s range, creeping closer. Only when they were certain the enemy’s return fire couldn’t reach them…
“Fire!”
KRA-KOOM-KOOM!
They unleashed another volley.
Watching a few batteries crumble and several cannons get wrecked, the Spanish cheered and turned back toward their staging point. The enemy’s response had been too swift to inflict casualties, but their victory was nonetheless absolute.
The Spanish returned, firm in the belief that their victory was owed to their superior cannons.
But they were wrong.
They knew nothing.
They didn’t know about the existence of ‘alternate history novels,’ essential reading for any modern person who might be transmigrated or possessed at any given moment.
They were ignorant of the fact that these books contained all sorts of useful and splendid knowledge, like iron-smelting techniques, flintlock rifle crafting, and the recipe for gunpowder.
They had no way of knowing the 21st-century common sense that any cultured, educated, intelligent, and morally upstanding person was generally an avid reader of alternate history.
If Kim Lee-sang had only had enough time and opportunity… If he had, he would have known the ideal gunpowder ratio: 75% saltpeter, 10% sulfur, 15% carbon. If he had, Kim Lee-sang might have been able to produce gunpowder of a far superior quality than what he had now.
Moreover, he already possessed high-quality saltpeter and sulfur extracted with 21st-century chemical engineering, as well as pure carbon. He had no need to sift through human and animal excrement like others.
If only he, Kim Lee-sang, had simply bought and read just a few more ‘alternate history novels,’ this painful defeat might have been avoided. The ones left stunned and scattered by an enemy firing from outside their range would have been the Spanish, not the people of the Virginia Commonwealth.
That’s right.
Though no one in the early 17th century could possibly have imagined it. The cause of Virginia’s defeat, lay in a lack of alternate history novels.
***
“Vicente, how many people are currently on Croatoan?”
“A total of 213. The rest are scattered between Roanoke Island and Chesapeake Bay. Ahem, all we know is that they are safe, for now.”
“It’s a relief the enemy is being cautious. If they had been willing to take casualties and attempted a landing.”
“Rest easy. They would never do that. Don’t you see? Most of them are privateers and armed merchantmen. Their own lives are precious; why would they charge in blindly?”
The only apostles present here were Hewitt, Eleanor, and Raleigh. It couldn’t be helped. The enemy had struck while we were gathered on Croatoan Island. With the enemy conducting threatening patrols, none of the key personnel could risk moving recklessly by ship.
“Still… it’s a relief we haven’t been completely cut off from the outside world. Do you think it will stay this way?”
Eleanor sighed. I looked to Raleigh. He was fiddling with his mustache, removing the pipe he’d been smoking.
“Lord Nemo, I believe so. If they weren’t concerned for their own safety, they would have landed from the start. But for now, the communities in every location, and even Her Majesty the Queen, are safe.”
That much was obvious. We had been meticulous with our coastal defenses. Besides, with every person supplied with at least one musket, the moment they set foot on land, a bloodbath would ensue. Whether the enemy knew that or not was a different question.
“By the same token, the enemy refuses to engage any time our ships gather in groups of five or more. They are fundamentally avoiding direct confrontation. Their goal is to isolate us, constrict us, and make us wither.”
“If that’s their goal, aren’t they succeeding?”
“Not at all, Thomas. Are we not all self-sufficient? We will never wither.”
“Ah.”
“However, Lord Nemo, as long as our settlements are connected by the sea, we cannot allow this situation to persist indefinitely. We must devise a way to break this.”
Raleigh summarized the situation. I nodded, sinking into thought.
“Raleigh? I assume that when Vicente returns from his trade mission to the north, the enemy won’t be able to attack him. He’ll have several armed vessels with him.”
“They certainly will not.”
“Then, what will Vicente do when he reaches Chesapeake Bay and learns of our situation?”
“Hmm… He will come to Croatoan.”
“We move then.”
“Ah, splendid! I like a quick conclusion. Then let us relocate and begin planning how to crush the Core Banks.”
“Let’s, Raleigh.”
“Pardon? Ah, you mean the Outer Banks?”
As Raleigh and I stood, Eleanor and Hewitt, who had less experience at sea, tilted their heads in confusion. I explained it to them.
“As you see, the enemy is rotating more than a dozen ships to patrol this entire area. To regularly monitor a distance of over a hundred kilometers like this, they must have an intermediate staging point.”
“A staging point… Ah.”
“Exactly, Eleanor.”
I nodded to her.
“The fortress the enemy built to the south was almost certainly for this purpose.”
The place the enemy had fortified with 200 men just a short while ago. Cape Lookout, on the Core Banks.
“From now on, we find a way to destroy it.”
A short time later, Vicente arrived at Croatoan.
“A way to destroy a heavily fortified location, you ask? It may sound blunt, but, why don’t we just do what I experienced?”
“Vicente? What you experienced? Uh.”
Getting invaded and annihilated? Or, perhaps, betraying your country at record speed?
“I-I think there’s been a misunderstanding. You know… that.”
Vicente, seeing the strange look on my face, whispered to me.
“Oh. That is, remarkably simple-minded.”
“But it will be effective, no?”
“Well, It does seem like it would be.”
After hearing the plan, I reluctantly agreed.
And so, before long, we were towing a barge toward the Core Banks.