Betrayal

I’m persuaded they’ll need to go to Rio, possibly as far as Cape Town.’

Kydd had his doubts about the Cape. There would probably be little enough to be found even at that distance, so soon after it had been taken: there hadn’t been a harvest and the Capetonians were still on thin times. But what else could the defenders do?

‘Rations are vital, of course, but what worries me is that we’ve no line to other military stores. We’re quite on our own with what we’ve brought with us. For instance, I’ve taken the precaution of buying up all the gunpowder I can lay hands on among the merchantmen lying here. What I’ll do for the other I cannot say.’

‘Sir, we’ve only to hold on for the reinforcements.’

‘Ah, the reinforcements. And when do you conceive they’ll be here? If I knew, we could make our dispositions – as it is, we’re forced to plan for months. If you’ve any ideas, I’d be glad to hear them.’

Kydd said ruefully, ‘St Helena?’

‘We’ve sent Jane there but they’re East India Company, not set up for Crown supply. No, it has to be comprehended that we’re in a devilish pickle.’

‘The slaves – are they to be added to our colours?’

‘No. The local merchantry plead their economy will be overset should they lose their services. I’ve had to let them keep their slaves. A good thing, too,’ he said absently. ‘I couldn’t feed ’em.’

Topping up the general’s wine, Kydd commented, ‘A sullen enough crew about town, I’ve noticed. I’m puzzled to know just what it is that’s made them set their faces against us.’

Beresford sighed. ‘Hard to say. At a guess, I’d presume it’s something to do with the Dons’ pride, that we’ve taken the place with so few. And what we’re offering of prosperity and freedom does not weigh that much with them.’

‘They’ve the chance to rid themselves of Spanish rule and they refuse it?’

‘Ah, yes. This they would value above all things, but they are asking too much of me.’

‘Sir?’

‘There are many who would accept us, possibly the majority of the better class, but first they desire a guarantee of protection against reprisal from the Spanish, should they return. This I cannot on my honour sign up to, as it is not within my power to defend against everything unforeseeable.’ He sighed. ‘Therefore that puts paid to any hope of a harmonious future. So, none will be seen to collaborate with us for fear of retribution later.’

Kydd knew what he was saying. ‘Like Guadeloupe when the French returned. The streets ran red for weeks I’ve heard.’ He had been a young seaman on the island when . . .

Beresford sniffed and added sourly, ‘And those priests are a pestilential lot. They’re making open offer of a place in the country and a new wife if a soldier deserts his post and takes off his hat to the pope. I’m sorry to say there’s been more than one Irishman think it the better bargain, the senoritas being so obliging.’

Abruptly he stood up. ‘Hard times, but we have our duty.’

Chapter 11

‘You are quite clear, amado mio, what we must do?’ Rafaela said, her voice breaking with intensity.

‘Of course,’ Serrano replied, although in his nervousness his hands were working together.

‘You will wait at Los Tres Reyes and I will bring the English captain to you. Now, don’t forget-’

‘Mi rosa, you do your part and I will do mine. I shall not fail Don Baltasar.’

They walked together in a wary silence through the shabby streets, then separated towards the centre. The city was unusually quiet and had an air of tension and dread that played on Serrano’s mind. He tried to tell himself that it was safer now: he was known where it counted as an agent of the patriots and need not fear them. But was it really true that they were in sacred alliance with the loyalists, whose hatred had seen him exiled?

Distant sounds of a military column marching came echoing through the streets. In a panic he hid in a side alley while the tramping feet went by – he had no idea how the British must regard him now. It was Rafaela’s job to feel for this before she brought Captain Kydd to the back room of the tavern. The column seemed endless: there must be many thousand troops in the city – and now they were his sworn enemy.

‘I say, for the ears of Captain Keed only!’ Rafaela snapped at the fortress guard. She stood there stubbornly until eventually an important-looking naval officer and a plainly dressed man descended.

‘?Senorita, que quieres con el capitan?’

Ignoring him she addressed the officer directly. ‘Dona Rafaela Callejo, an’ I have informacion for you, Captain Keed.’ He was a handsome man with a strong, open face that paradoxically allowed her fears to subside a little.

‘How do you know my name?’ he challenged.

She said nothing.

‘Very well, I’ll see her inside,’ Kydd told the translator, and led the way to his office.

‘Now, what is it you have to tell me, Miss Callejo?’

Rafaela adjusted her shawl. He looked directly at her, no play with the eyes or attempt to dominate or charm, and she felt a twinge of guilt at what she was about to do. ‘Sir, you know my lover. Vicente Serrano.’

‘I do,’ Kydd said cautiously. ‘He left my ship some time ago.’

‘Yes. To reach los patriotas. I am to tell you he was not in time for your attack and only now has arrive in Buenos Aires.’

‘I’m pleased to hear it.’

‘You’re not angry wi’ him?’

Kydd shook his head. ‘No. We had to sail quickly. These things happen in war.’

‘Capitan, he wish to do more. To help King George against the Spanish so they can be throw from our country!’ She smiled winningly. ‘Sir, he is hiding, he frighten that someone will see him if he come to the fort.’

‘I understand.’

‘He know you, he trust you. Sir, will you see him at all?’

Serrano stood up when Kydd and Rafaela entered, his nervousness allayed by her smile.

‘Captain Keed! I, er . . .’ But all his imaginings for a suave line of questioning leading to secrets fled before the reality of facing the man he was about to betray.

‘You wanted to help us against the Spanish?’ Kydd prompted.

‘Er, yes, sir.’

‘Then I’m not at all sure what you can do unless first you tell us.’

‘I – um, then what is your problem, may I ask?’ Serrano blurted.

‘That must be finding victuals for the soldiers – bread and spirit, provisions. We’re in much need – but this is not something you can help us with, I fear, unless you know of secret stores or such,’ Kydd finished hopefully.

‘I will try. Thank you, sir – thank you!’ he spluttered, the excitement in him building while Rafaela looked on in bafflement.

‘And if you ever hear of mischief from the Spanish . . .’

‘Yes, yes. Goodbye, sir, goodbye!’

Blinking, Kydd allowed himself to be escorted outside by Rafaela, who hurried back afterwards.

‘What are you doing, you fool?’ she blazed. ‘Where are the secrets to tell Don Baltasar? You should have-’

Serrano gazed back with a saintly smile. ‘I have the biggest of all, mi bella flor,’ he said, challenging her with his eyes.

‘What is this big secret then?’ She pouted.

‘Only that I’m to tell General Liniers to order his soldiers to rest easy. There will be no battles, no mortal struggle with the English.’

‘What are you saying? This is lunatic, Vicente!’

‘Tonight I shall leave in the fishing boat and at dawn I shall be speaking to the general directly,’ he declared. ‘You shall wait for my return.’