Chapter 61

“It is time we taught those Spaniards a lesson!”

…Why do we have to teach them a lesson?

“We need to show them exactly who the master of these parts is!”

Are we managing our turf now?

“Vicente, you’ll join us, won’t you?”

“Ah! Of course, my lord Baron! I’ve done it once already, what’s a second time?”

Done what, exactly?

“If we’re not limiting ourselves to naval battles, there might be casualties…”

“Don’t you worry! We can handle most injuries now!”

“Eleanor, are you planning on going as well?”

“Of course! If I don’t go, who will treat the wounded soldiers?”

…What is going on?

These… these Englishmen. They’re living up to their reputation as the pirates who will dominate the world’s seas for the next few hundred years. I sighed and turned to the two people here who were, at least, not English.

“Vicente, I know this means attacking your homeland, but will you be alrigh—”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Didn’t I just tell Baron Raleigh? I’ve already done it once, there’s no reason I can’t do it a second time!”

“…”

“We must defeat the wicked forces that have threatened this settlement! We must build a true kingdom of the Lord here!”

You were part of those ‘wicked forces,’ you know. It was because you were one of the ones ‘threatening this settlement’ that I got stabbed for the first time in my life. It seems that turncoats are not to be trusted, regardless of time or place.

I turned my head toward Manteo. “Manteo, if you feel uncomfortable about this…”

“Pardon? Why would I be uncomfortable?”

“Well… I was just worried that you might not want to risk the lives of your tribesmen in a meaningless war…”

“Meaningless? In Europe, you trade all sorts of things for gold and silver, do you not?”

“…That’s correct.”

“And we use that gold and silver to buy the various tools, spices, and daily necessities we use in our settlement.”

“That… is also correct.”

“Then shouldn’t we take it when we have the chance? Seeing the gold and silver they brought this time, doesn’t it suggest that even more incredible treasures await?”

“…”

Et tu, Manteo? What’s gotten into you? Are you an honorary Englishman now? Have you abandoned America to join the ranks of Europe? My head was starting to spin.

I mean, I get it. I understand how they feel. Haven’t I been living and breathing with these Englishmen for eight years now? I’ve come to grasp their way of thinking. You just have to think of them as gangsters. Gangsters who live and die by their pride. And in a situation like this, where their turf is being threatened and the authority of their boss (that’s me) is being challenged, there’s no way they’d stand for it.

Even if our Virginia settlement and Spanish Florida are hundreds of kilometers apart by land, the Spanish forces can threaten us by sea at any time, just as Vicente did. Besides, the Spanish have been spreading all sorts of nasty rumors, things like, ‘A saintess and an angel? More like a witch and a demon!’ or ‘An indigenous emperor is just a savage who worships Satan!’ It must have gotten on their nerves. Still, even so… what happens to the great cause of liberating the slaves?

When I cautiously brought it up, they all looked at me as if I were a strange creature.

“Well, if we smash a Spanish colony or two, won’t some slaves naturally be freed in the process?”

You, Raleigh, you said it. Listening to you talk, it’s obvious your main goal is to raid Spanish colonies. Freeing slaves is just an afterthought, isn’t it?

…

…

…

I suppose… there’s nothing I can do. They have their reasons, some of which are even plausible. The idea that ‘If we hit them spectacularly, artfully, they’ll be too scared to do anything!’ sounds like the kind of bullshit the Japanese Empire would spout, but it has a surprising amount of merit. Spain has plenty of enemies besides us, and the more limited their resources become, the fewer options they’ll have. Most importantly, our settlement is armed with coastal batteries mounting hundreds of cannons. Any half-baked assault would end with them getting their asses handed to them. So, if we seize this momentum, land a few blows, and plunder their valuables to contribute to the settlement’s finances…

Slap!

“Wh-what’s wrong?”

“Are you all right? You suddenly slapped your own cheek…”

I’m starting to think too much like you people. I slapped myself to snap out of it.

Hoooo…

“…Walter, let’s ask for Sir Drake’s opinion when he arrives.”

“Thank you!”

Right. I can’t stop it. As much as I’d rather not, what the Englishmen are saying is, in principle, correct. I have no choice but to accept. Now, all that’s left is to wait for Drake to return so we can ask his opinion…

“Ha, hahaha, hahahahaha! Excellent!”

Slap, slap, slap, slap!

Was that really something worth a standing ovation?

“Baron Raleigh! While we’re heading out to sea together, how about we search for El Dorado!”

“A splendid idea! The Spaniards must know its location, so while we’re raiding their colonies, we can raid them for information as well—”

“Ah, I have a few things to say to you both.”

“What is it, Your Majesty?”

“Just say the word!”

“First, do not harm innocent civilians.”

“Of course!”

“You can count on us!”

I don’t believe you for a second… but their enthusiastic replies were nice to hear, at least.

“And, all captured slaves must be liberated.”

“Is there any question?”

“We have not forgotten the just cause of this war!”

Right… I’m glad to hear that.

“Finally, I’m sorry to ruin the festive mood, but… El Dorado doesn’t exist.”

“…”

“…”

Don’t look at me like that. Why are you both making the face of a seven-year-old who’s just been told Santa Claus isn’t real?

***

“Hee, heh heh heh…”

Who am I? I am Elizabeth Tudor, the rightful Queen of England, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, and a strategic genius. Now sixty-three years of age, the great Virgin Queen, Elizabeth, laughed with a dark, hidden pleasure.

“Not only did they plunder and capture the Spanish treasure fleet, but they also liberated over 2,200 Moor[1] slaves. Furthermore, the assistance of the indigenous emperor was a major contribution to this victory…”

The thought of King Philip II of Spain, who must have heard the news by now, weeping tears of blood sent a thrill so potent through the queen that it nearly shattered her composure. They had utterly ravaged his vaunted treasure fleet. Better yet, by capturing half of it, their own naval strength had actually increased from before the battle began.

Moreover, the ‘Emperor’ she had so painstakingly courted was now playing an active role in the war against Spain. Rumors from the sailors claimed he personally wielded a ‘screaming sword,’ felling countless enemies and building a mountain of corpses. It was nonsense, of course, but it was a good story, so she had it spread as propaganda.

Vast quantities of gold, pure silver, ivory, and various spices had fallen into her hands. How could she not be delighted… Ah, no, that wasn’t it.

“To have liberated over 2,000 slaves! Sir Drake, your contribution is immense.” ‘Elizabeth the Liberator’ declared in a solemn voice. “A tenth of the spoils you have brought shall be yours, and you will now inherit the post of Treasurer of the Navy, formerly held by your kinsman. There are many other glories I have set aside for you, but…”

“…”

“Go.” Elizabeth said, a sharp, ambitious smile gracing her lips. “Go, and with Walter Raleigh, Baron of Roanoke, crush the Spanish fleet and burn their colonies. Until not a single one of those loathsome villains who enslave their fellow man remains upon this earth.”

It was a grand, yet vague, command. But in its vagueness, it was clearer than any other.

The recent victory had once again made Walter Raleigh and Francis Drake national heroes. Portraits of them vanquishing the Spaniards alongside the indigenous emperor were being painted everywhere, and the treasures won from their victory were on display throughout London. In such a climate, the ‘vague’ order given to Drake… meant autonomy.

“Burn Philip II’s West Indies.”

After sending Drake on his way, Elizabeth’s entire body trembled with the victorious thrill.

***

“Gaaah! Drake! Raleigh! And that goddamn indigenous emperor!”

King Philip II of Spain, likewise trembling, but with rage, gave the order to declare bankruptcy.

***

And finally. The ‘indigenous emperor’ himself…

“…Walter? Are you heading out again?”

“Of course! Her Majesty the Queen has granted us free command. This time, we will surely burn Havana to the ground!”

“…H-have a safe trip.”

I was the only one left feeling bewildered.

***

Raleigh was ecstatic. Drake was, too.

From what I heard, Spain’s American trade network was now in a state of near-paralysis. The slave trade had ground to a halt with it, and Drake, unable to capture slave ships, had apparently taken to selectively raiding Spanish colonies instead. Well… it was a bit extreme, but the results were good.

“Alright, look here and smile!”

“If you could just state your name, tribe, and family connections… you don’t speak Spanish?”

And just as ecstatic as they were, liberated slaves began pouring into the settlement by the hundreds. Among them, those who chose to return home headed for Liberia[2], or passed through it on the way to their respective homelands. Several hundred others remained in the settlement, most choosing to become landowners here.

Once again, the demographics of the settlement grew more diverse. Fortunately, since a good number of the freed slaves could speak Spanish, there weren’t as many language barriers as when the Native Americans first arrived. However… there was another problem.

“…What are you doing, Cheyan?”

I asked a young man one day, for he was staring endlessly out at the sea, like a man possessed. The young man named Cheyan replied.

“My wife and I… we were sold to completely different places… Where could my wife be?”

I could not give him an answer.

And so many of them, sometimes, often, or even daily, would go out to the shore and watch the sun set and the stars rise. As if they were waiting for someone beyond the horizon. Only a very small few ever turned their backs on the sea for good.

The rest… they just waited. With no promise of when.

***

Spanish Florida, the new city of Miami.

Crack!

A whip tore through water-soaked flesh. Blood flowed, staining the seawater, and the salt that seeped into the wounds made limbs tremble in agony.

“Urgh… uuuugh…!”

“Move! For the eternal glory of His Majesty our King! For the victory of our homeland!”

They rose at dawn and toiled for a ‘King’ they had never met and a ‘homeland’ they had never set foot in. To build fortifications against an enemy they did not know, they journeyed to a nearby quarry to break rocks. It was also their job to haul the piles of stone they had hewn back to the coast. While the stonemasons cut the quarried stones to shape the fortress, they returned to the fields of the masters they had been assigned to, spending the rest of the morning plowing, sowing seeds, pulling weeds, and hauling the harvest.

When the sun reached its zenith, they became property of the state once more. They strained against the thick ropes tied to newly arrived ships, groaning as they dragged the vessels ashore. The colonial authorities strictly monitored and controlled the labor of these slaves.

They were short on hands. Plans to bring in more slaves were repeatedly thwarted by the English navy’s interference, and they couldn’t possibly force the Spaniards who had come here dreaming of becoming landowners to do such backbreaking work. It was a shame to work the expensive slaves to death… but there was no other choice. To the Spanish authorities, time to prepare for an English invasion was more precious. The peace of the colony, and the safety of the Spaniards who had settled there, was more important.

In their cold, meticulous calculus, the lives of the slaves were recorded as ‘resources,’ and their deaths were calculated as ‘losses.’

The seawater reeked of blood.

They cried out the names of various spirits and ancestors, praying for salvation. But no voice of salvation answered. Next, they prayed for the ruin of their oppressors. That, too, did not come to pass. Finally, they sang of a peaceful death that would come like sleep. Of course, only a life more painful than death continued.

Just as all hope had withered away…

“I heard there is a land to the north, called Virginia.”

“…”

“…”

“They say… if you go there, you can be free.”

Someone whispered the strange tale.

“If we can get there… we will be free.”

Our master said the emperor there lives in a palace made of gold.

I heard that gold and silver are as common as stones there.

They say there are no slaves, and no slave masters…

Countless rumors drifted like ghosts, but no one knew their substance. Still, as if hypnotized, they repeated the stories over and over.

They needed… they needed stories like that.