"Are you saying you mean to settle down there on the Point, with these buccaneers?" Calvert was trying to comprehend what he was hearing.

Could it be that, along with Jamaica, Cromwell was going to get armed ships, manned by the only men in the Caribbean feared by the Spaniards, for nothing?

Perhaps it might even mean Jamaica could be kept. The Western Design might end up with something after all . . .

"Well, sir, in truth, this island's going to be needing all the fighting men it can muster if it's to defend itself from the Spaniards." Calvert turned to Briggs. "If these buccaneers of his want to headquarter here, it could well be a G.o.dsend."

"You'd countenance turning over the safety of this place to a band of rogues?" Briggs' face began to grow dark with a realization. "Hold a minute, sir. Are you meanin' to suggest Cromwell won't trouble providing this island with naval protection?"

"His Highness will doubtless act in what he considers to be England's best interest, Mister Briggs, but I fear he'll not be too anxious to expend revenues fortifying and patrolling an empty Spanish island. I wouldn't expect to see the English navy around here, if that's what you're thinking."

"But this island's got to have defenses. It's not the same as Barbados.

Over there we were hundreds of leagues to windward. And the Spaniards never cared about it in the first place. But Jamaica's different. It's right on the Windward Pa.s.sage. You've got to keep an armed fleet and some fortifications here or the Spaniards'll just come and take the place back whenever they have a mind."

"Then you'd best start thinking about how you'd plan to arrange for it." Calvert turned back to Medina. "Kindly advise His Excellency I wish to speak with him directly."

The lieutenant-general bowed and nervously returned to the litter.

After consulting inside for a moment, he ordered the bearers to move it forward.

What they saw was a small, shriveled man, bald and all but consumed with venereal pox. He carefully shaded his yellow eyes from the morning sun as he peered out.

"As I have said, Excellency, we are pleased to acknowledge your welcome," Calvert addressed him. "For the time we will abstain from sacking Villa de la Vega, in return for which courtesy you will immediately supply our fleet with three hundred head of fat cattle for feeding our men, together with ca.s.sava bread and other comestibles as we may require."

After a quick exchange, Medina looked back, troubled. "His Excellency replies he has no choice but to comply."

"Fine. But I'm not quite finished. Be it also known without any mistaking that we have hereby taken charge of the island of Jamaica. I expect to send you the terms to sign tomorrow morning, officially surrendering it to England."

Winston stepped forward and faced Medina. "You can also advise His Excellency there'll be another item in the terms. Those slaves standing there, and all others on the island, are going to be made free men."

"Senor, all the negros on this island have already been set free, by His Excellency's proclamation this very morning. To help us resist. Do you think we are fools? Our negros are _catolico_. They and our Maroons will stand with us if we have to drive you _protestante_ heretics from this island."

"Maroons?" Calvert studied him.

"Si. that is the name of the free negros who live here, in the mountains." He approached Calvert. "And know this, Ingles. They are no longer alone. The king of Spain will not let you steal this island, and we will not either. Even now, our people in Villa de la Vega have taken all their belongings and left for the mountains also. We will wage war on you from there forever if need be. You may try to steal this island, against the laws of G.o.d, but if you do, our people will empty their _hatos_ and drive their cattle into the hills. Your army will starve.

This island will become your coffin, we promise you."

"That remains to be seen, sir." Calvert inspected him coldly. "If you don't choose to honor our terms and provide meat for this army, then we'll just take what we please."

"Then we bid you good day." Medina moved back to confer with the governor. After a moment, the bearers hoisted the litter, turned, and headed back down the road, trailed by the prancing horses of the cavalry.

Calvert watched, unease in his eyes, as they moved out. "In truth, I'm beginning to fear this may turn out to be as b.l.o.o.d.y as Hispaniola. If these Spaniards scorn our terms of surrender and take to the hills, it could be years before Jamaica is safe for English settlement."

Behind them the infantrymen had begun to emerge from the woods across the clearing, led by Morris. Next Guy Bartholomew appeared around the side of the fortress, his face strained and haggard in the morning light. He watched puzzling as the Spanish procession disappeared into the distance, then turned to Winston.

"What's all the talk been about?"

"There's going to be a war here, and soon. And we don't want any part of it. So right now we'd best head back over to the Point. That spot's going to be ours, or h.e.l.l will hear the reason why. John's been off- loading my culverin and he should have the guns in place by now. We don't need these cannon any more. Get your lads and let's be gone."

"I'd just as soon be out of here, I'll tell you that. I don't fancy the looks of this, sir, not one bit." With an exhale of relief, Bartholomew signaled up to the breastwork, then headed back. "G.o.d be praised."

As Winston waved him on, he spotted Atiba approaching

across the clearing, Serina at his side. The Yoruba still had his cutla.s.s 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 d.a.m.nd 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 c.o.c.ked 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 d.a.m.n'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 d.a.m.n'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 cutla.s.s. "I do not know why you have come, wh.o.r.eson _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 c.o.c.ked 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 d.a.m.nable 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 d.a.m.ned. 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 d.a.m.nable 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 . . ."