Betrayal (28 page)

Kydd was impressed: it was a direct call to the northern industries that a market of immense size was suddenly open to them with premium prices going to the first to satisfy the hunger for manufactured goods. The River Plate should very soon be thronged with enterprising merchantmen.

‘And our reinforcements?’ It was critical that these were not delayed for it would not be long before the Spanish in the north heard about the catastrophe and, stretched as the British were, there could be only one result.

‘In St Helena I sent dispatches to England with our intentions, and now by fast frigate I shall tell them of our victory against the odds. This news will be accompanied by freight to the value of a million silver dollars to delight the crowd. Do you not think then that the Admiralty would wish to safeguard the nation’s hope?’

Kydd came to the alert instantly. Any frigate captain fortunate enough to return with news of a famous victory and treasure to prove it would be the talk of the hour, not to mention the considerable fee he would earn by right for carrying specie. ‘Er, have you given thought to who—’

‘Oh, well, it will have to depart very soon, of course,’ Popham said airily. ‘I’ve dispatches to complete and General Beresford pleads for much in the way of army stores and supplies – I’d think
Narcissus
would answer, she being new-victualled for sea.’

Kydd kept his thoughts to himself: was Popham taking the opportunity to rid himself of Donnelly, a senior captain and outspoken critic of his handling of the expedition?

‘And, of course, as a heavy frigate she’s of limited value in these shoal waters,’ Popham finished.

Smiling briefly, he enquired, ‘So. How is our port captain taking to his responsibilities? Does all march well on the waterfront?’

‘No, sir.’ His adjutant was polite but firm and Beresford had no choice but to hear him out. ‘Since your proclamation went out six days ago, there have been but sixty-five citizens sworn.’

‘So few?’ the general said incredulously.

‘Sir.’

This was perplexing: of the tens of thousands of inhabitants only a tiny handful had come to pledge allegiance to the Crown. Did this suggest that the people had no sense of relief at having thrown off the yoke of Spanish rule, or had it deeper significance to do with the King of Great Britain also being Defender of the Faith but not the old one?

‘Should we perhaps follow it up with some form of coercion, loss of citizen’s rights, that sort of thing, do you think?’

The officer spoke carefully: ‘Sir, your words to the deputation of
patricios
were, I’m persuaded, not best calculated to settle their fears. They asked for an undertaking that we would defend them against a Spanish counter-attack and you—’

‘I know what I said, damn it! They wanted me to guarantee their security against all and every motion of the enemy. This is militarily impossible and I cannot sacrifice my honour to a false promise, sir.’

‘Yes, sir,’ the officer said patiently. ‘But it were better you didn’t say so in so many words. The implication now is that, if it suits us tactically to withdraw from the city before the Spanish return in force, they will be subject to reprisal for collaborating with us, and your Spaniard is well known to be cruel in vengeance.’

‘I’m not pledging my word to an absurdity. Besides, any undertaking assumed by the Crown is a grave responsibility, which is always to be taken seriously. I cannot possibly bind any future military commander to such terms.’

‘I understand, sir.’

‘Now, we must buckle down to the matter in hand. Supplies. We’re settled in and need to find our own forage instead of relying on the ships. This is always a necessary business and I want it in hand as soon as possible. Who knows what the future might bring, hey?’

‘Yes, sir. To another matter, we have our fifteenth desertion reported by Colonel Pack and—’

‘More?’

‘It does seem to be the same class of man, sir. Irish – they find the same religion, and opportunities here not to be countenanced in Ireland, and we suspect they’re being lured away by the Spanish women.’

‘Deserters will meet the same penalty as they would on home station. Harder – this is in the face of the enemy.’

‘Enemy, sir?’ the officer asked innocently.

W
ith rising emotion Serrano paused in the darkness of the doorway, exhausted and famished. ‘
Mi flor – mi bella flor!
’ he called out.

Rafaela opened the door and squealed with delight. Throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed him with a passion that melted his terror and confusion. ‘
Alma mia, mi corazón
,’ she sobbed, caressing his matted hair.

Once inside, she held him at arm’s length; then her hands dropped and she slapped his face. ‘
Hijo de perra
– where did you go that you left me with no word of what you were going to do? I worried that the
partidarios leales
had betrayed you and I lied to everyone that—’

Serrano shook his head and pulled her close, breathing her fragrance. ‘Rafaela –
mi ángel.
’

Then he stood back and declared, ‘I was
betrayed
.’

‘
Cariño,
who . . . ?’

‘Not by the loyalists or the patriots, but by the British.’

‘The British?’ she said incredulously. ‘What have you to do with them?’

‘In my exile in Cape Town I heard from their officers that they were to fall on the Spanish here, and I hid in one of their boats . . .’

It all came tumbling out, and hot tears of anger pricked as he told of the cunning and all-too-believable secretary who had wormed his way into his confidences by pretending to learn Spanish, before setting him up to lead the patriots away from Montevideo, probably to distract the Spanish eastwards while they made their move on Buenos Aires.

‘They told me it was a mission of glory, to bring the forces of Great Britain and
los patriotas
to a triumphal destiny of liberation. Instead I was used as a common
tonto
to deceive and blind.’

In a rush of feeling he described his devastation at Don Baltasar’s side when they had looked out over an empty sea. Only by quick thinking – saying that the British would be returning to look for his signal – did he escape being branded a spy leading them all to destruction.

‘That night I fled for my life, feeling the hounds of hell at my back. Now I have both sides after my skin,’ he said bitterly.

‘You’re a fool, Vicente, and I love you. Can you not see? By running you have confirmed their suspicions. And the Spanish have proof of your sympathies with the
independentistas.
You’re in deep trouble, my little cabbage.’

She bit her lip. ‘Does anyone know you’re here? Did they see you enter this house?’

‘Do you think I’m stupid? How do you think I made it this far? No. It’s dark. I kept close to the wall and watched carefully until it was quiet.’

‘Good. We must think what to do.’

Her brow furrowed – then suddenly she tensed. ‘Did you hear anything? It sounded like—’

The door flew open with a crash, revealing a tall man with a cynical smile, others behind him.

Rafaela moved protectively in front of Serrano. ‘Who are you? Why do you enter my home like this?’

The man gave a languid bow. ‘Doña Rafaela Callejo? A thousand apologies for the inconvenience but our business is with your friend.’ He closed the door.

In the low candlelight the man’s face was lined and cruel, the black eyes piercing. He circled them slowly, his hand loosely on his poniard. Stopping, he addressed Serrano in a voice barely above a whisper, ‘It is entirely my decision whether you leave this room alive or no. Do you understand?’

‘I demand to know who you are,’ Serrano said shakily.

‘For you that is of no concern.’ The poniard leaped into his hand and he inspected its gleaming edge. ‘I come from Don Baltasar to clear up a few points that still vex him.’

‘I didn’t betray him. It was British treachery – they
said
they wanted to join with us, overthrow the villainous Spanish and – and—’

‘He never doubted that for one moment, my little chicken.’

‘Then . . .’

‘He knows you to be young and impulsive and foolish in the ways of the world. What he wants to know is how ardent in the cause you still are.’

‘Liberty? Freedom? On my soul, I put them first in my life. He must believe me.’

‘And what of your friends, the British?’

‘I hate them!’

‘I see. You will be interested to know that the council has met and decided that, in the furtherance of independence, we must throw our entire force at the main enemy.’

‘Yes – Spain!’

The tip of the poniard flicked out and came to rest at Serrano’s throat.

‘Not at all,’ the man said silkily. ‘They are not the main enemy. It is the one who tries to lure us into joining them to make conquest of the viceroyalty, only to turn on us as it seeks to add this country to its swollen empire.’

‘The British!’

‘Just so. There will be no independence for us, only a change of masters.’

‘Why do we not make use of them to throw out the Spanish and then—’

‘Fool!’ His lips curled in contempt. ‘By trickery, and the unforgivable craven flight of Viceroy Sobramonte they were enabled to take a great city. It is done! They hold our capital and will never give it to us. Therefore we must take it.’

‘Against their mighty force?’

‘In this emergency it has been decreed that nothing is too sacred to be sacrificed to this end.
Los patriotas
will join as brothers with the royalists, the
blandengues
will be summoned and the gauchos armed – all in the great cause to drive
los imperialistas
into the sea whence they came.’

Serrano caught his breath. The
blandengues
were a centuries-old militia with roots deep in the frontier, and gauchos as cavalry would be glorious – but would it be enough? This was either catastrophic folly or inspired.

‘Who will be leader?’ he asked carefully. If Baltasar—

‘Don Santiago de Liniers.’ At Serrano’s incomprehension he added, ‘At Montevideo he commands our only regular troops and is experienced in war. It is he whom we allow to issue the orders.’

Serrano drew himself erect. With rising exultation, he knew now which was the true cause. ‘I wish to serve.’

The poniard slid back into its sheath. ‘That is what Don Baltasar wants to hear. Very well, you shall, for there is a service that will silence your enemies for ever.’

‘Oh?’ said Serrano, in sudden apprehension.

‘You shall return to your British friends with a tale. Then you will pass us all we want to know of the vermin.’

‘A spy!’

The man smiled.

‘Captain Kydd?’ The aide looked distracted. ‘General Beresford is calling an urgent meeting, sir.’

With relief, Kydd put down the tortured wording of a Customs regulation, then felt a stab of concern. Beresford was a good administrator and not one to disrupt his staff unduly with idle meetings.

They assembled in the usual room but Beresford was not there. Minutes passed and they began to talk uneasily among themselves. As far as anyone knew, no Spanish armies were massing, no fleets sighted. The summoning of all his commanders to meet together at this time was disturbing.

Beresford strode into the room as if he was eager to plan a campaign but his expression was grave. ‘Right, gentlemen. Are we all here? We have our uprising well enough but, I’m sorry to say, not in our support as expected.’

‘A Spanish counter-attack?’

‘I rather think not. Our informant tells us—’

‘Our spies.’

‘The employment of spies and similar is beneath my honour, sir, and will not find service with me. You will find in this city, however, parties who are quite without scruple in delating upon their countrymen.

‘Now, what I have learned this day is unsettling, if not alarming. Where before we looked to the rebels to rise up with us against the Spanish in the hope of independence, now they have completely reversed their allegiance and are in amicable alliance with their old foes to go against us.’

‘Good God! They stand to lose so much by going back to the old ways – why is it, with the golden prospect of free trade, that they turn their backs on us?’

‘Ah. The free trade we’ve all been trusting will be our shining gift. I believe Captain Kydd has discovered something that throws a quite different light on our assumptions. Sir?’

Kydd nodded. ‘I’m billeted with a merchant and have the full griff. What I’ve found out is that our talk of free trade is meaningless to them – the merchants, that is. It’s true that, before, they were liable for the
quinta real
, a royal tax of twenty per cent on all landed cargoes, and that all freights must under penalty be carried in Spanish bottoms. Naturally we assumed they’d jump at the chance of open trade under our protection, particularly as all Spanish ships were swept from the seas after Trafalgar.

‘What we didn’t count on was what they did in response to their situation. The colony had great need o’ modern manufactures and such, and as well the people were loud in their demands for foreign and luxury goods. So much so that the government took fright and settled with the big merchant houses. For a fat sum in bribery they promised not to notice discreet arrivals of shipping in a quiet bay set aside for it. This grew into quite a sizeable arrangement, with even foreign commercial agents invited to encourage their ships to call.’