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Authors: David Donachie

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BOOK: The Scent of Betrayal
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Harry, who couldn’t fail to see how James’s barb had wounded the Spanish officer, cut in. ‘Well, brother, if I had any chance of a refusal, your desire to exercise your sense of humour has buried it.’

‘I wouldn’t want them to think us intimidated, Harry.’

Harry responded to that with a grin.

‘Certainly not. And it wasn’t much of an opportunity anyway. But just so I don’t miss a chance to convince them, I’d like you to accompany me.’ The grin faded quickly when he turned to address de Chigny. ‘I will come ashore in my own barge. You may escort me if you wish. But I warn you, sir, lay one finger on me or any of my men, and you will find yourself required to explain your actions to His Britannic Majesty’s government. Pender!’

Harry’s servant was already moving before he spoke, issuing orders to haul the barge alongside.

‘Is there anything you want us to do while you’re ashore?’ he asked.

‘There’s nothing you can do.’

‘And if they try to take over the ship?’

Harry indicated the huge cannon, their muzzles poking out of the stone embrasures. Behind them, smoke drifted lazily into the air.

‘You could try to sink her. But I think those shore batteries are better equipped than you or I to achieve that.’

THERE WAS
a fussy, bustling quality about the Barón de Carondelet. Small, round of face and body, dressed in an old-fashioned way, he moved constantly; sitting down only to stand up again; pacing to his desk to examine a paper that was immediately discarded; darting forward to examine his ‘guests’ before returning to stand behind his high-backed chair, every word accompanied by an exaggerated gesture of the hand. His speech was rapid, made very evident in his heavily accented, near-incomprehensible Spanish. Enough could be gleaned by the Ludlow brothers to be sure that he was questioning de Chigny about what had happened on the deck of the
Bucephalas
. Harry and James were subjected to quick, penetrating stares, rendered more malevolent by blue protruding eyes and a flushed complexion, allied to a habit of standing, feet apart, hands on hips, during each curt examination. James, in between these unfriendly stares, indicated to Harry the portrait on the wall behind his desk. Clearly the Governor had sat for it, though the artist had taken care to soften his subject’s grosser features to produce the image of a quite attractive human being.

Finally, having exhausted his interrogation, carried out in Spanish to exclude the brothers, de Carondelet turned to include them. But his voice, even in French, held a sneering quality and he deliberately kept his back to them, rifling the papers on his desk as though such documents were of vastly more importance than these two Englishmen.

‘My aide informs me that you claim neutrality; that your journey to New Orleans was made of your own free will.’

‘Do you dare to doubt it, sir,’ James replied, his voice cold,
slow and deliberate, in sharp contrast to the staccato, derogatory tone of the Governor.

De Carondelet, clearly unused to being addressed in such a manner, spun round, adopting the same aggressive pose he’d fixed them with earlier. ‘Do you really expect us to believe that you have come all this way on a charitable mission to find a home for a group of displaced Frenchmen?’

‘I grant you any man who lacks charity himself would find such a thing difficult to comprehend.’

‘Might I remind you, Señor, who you’re talking to? I am the Governor and Intendant of the entire Louisiana Territory. As such, I command respect.’

If he’d hoped to frighten James, either by his look or his haughty tone, he failed abysmally. Harry suppressed a smile as he saw his brother’s eyebrows lift in mock surprise, a sure sign that the riposte that was coming would, to the Barón’s ears, be even more unwelcome.

‘Then I need hardly remind you, a high-ranking subject of the King of Spain, that good manners are a prerequisite both of your office and of your station as a gentleman. I would also observe that the lack of such manners would shock your sovereign, should he ever have the misfortune to hear of it.’

‘Does someone of your persuasion dare to check me regarding my manners?’

This question was accompanied by a sweep of the hand large enough to encompass the whole territory, before the Barón turned back to his desk.

The languid tone disappeared suddenly. James’s face and countenance visibly hardened. ‘If you continue to behave in such a boorish manner, sir, I will continue to point out to you that it is unsuitable, unbecoming, and rude.’

‘As well as unproductive,’ added Harry quickly, as de Carondelet spun round again. His eyes looked set to pop right out of his head, evidence of a temper that could hardly benefit the Ludlows, or their passengers. ‘Even if you find it hard to accept, it is
the plain truth. I have an obligation to these men, who are refugees from St Domingue. Naturally, given a choice of destination, they chose one with a climate, plus an ambiance, that suited them.’

‘We have no room for more French paupers.’

‘They are far from paupers, Barón,’ said James. ‘In fact I think they will bring more to your colony than they could possibly take out.’

Harry cut in quickly, lest James say too much. ‘Each one is a skilled artisan, Barón, which is something no colony can be over-burdened with.’

De Carondelet didn’t reply. Instead he fixed his gaze at a point midway between the brothers, for all the world like a Solomon contemplating justice. Harry decided to take the initiative on what he suspected was the true reason for their presence here.

‘Clearly the
Gauchos
was carrying something of value, Barón, the loss of which had upset you. While that something is not in our possession, if we can assist you in any way in finding the people who stole it, we will do so. But first you must tell us what it is.’

Eyes so bulbous couldn’t, in the conventional sense, narrow. But the lids closed enough to give de Carondelet a cunning air. ‘If you have no idea what it is, Captain Ludlow, how can you possibly know that it is valuable?’

‘Because I am, like you, sir, no fool. Captain San Lucar de Barrameda—’

De Carondelet’s hand cut down in a vicious gesture as he interrupted Harry. ‘It is only through his timely arrival at Fort Balize that you are here. If he hadn’t turned up you would have dropped off your passengers, left that dim-wit Fernandez with some platitudes to swallow, and escaped into the Gulf of Mexico, no doubt to murder more poor innocents.’

‘We’d just come from the Gulf of Mexico,’ said Harry, in a voice that was so loud it was close to a shout. ‘And let me say that I dislike the implication of some form of culpability for either
the loss of the
Gauchos
or the death of Captain Rodrigo.’

De Carondelet grunted, clearly not convinced.

‘If we were involved, can you explain to me what we were doing off Fort Balize in the first place, having just taken and robbed a Spanish merchant ship, then having committed murder? That, Barón, would be an act of madness.’

James cut in, his tone no less sharp than Harry’s. ‘And might I remind you that the only reason you know that the
Gauchos
was lost or that someone is dead, is because we have had the good grace to tell you.’

The Governor, clearly agitated, started to dart about the room, very much in the same manner as he had when interrogating his aide. A list of accusations poured forth, each made in a disjointed manner which exactly matched his jerky movements.

‘Bluff! Subterfuge! Lies! You wouldn’t have been there if our fleet of galleys hadn’t caught you.’ He faced them for half a second before throwing himself into his chair. ‘Cunning, I grant you. We were bound to find out, in time. No doubt you planned to take other ships; to kill other people. The
Gauchos
was such a rich prize, a man like you would wonder if there might be others. Thank the good Lord that San Lucar de Barrameda smelt a rat. Like all pirates, your cowardice is your abiding trait.’

‘We are privateers, sir!’ snapped Harry.

De Carondelet leapt to his feet again, his voice rising. ‘A word. Drake, Morgan, Hawkins titled themselves in the same way. But say it to a Spaniard and he will yell pirate, especially when the villain is an Englishman.’

He leant forward on his desk with such force that half the papers it contained were scattered on the floor. ‘You may think you’ve stolen my gold and silver, but I shall recover it, even if I have to try you on the rack to find out where it is concealed.’

‘Gold and silver?’

De Carondelet stopped suddenly, his voice softening. ‘There. You acknowledge it.’

‘Everything that we found of any value, Barón, is on our ship,’ said James. He was about to continue when Harry held up a restraining hand.

‘Where did El Señor de Barrameda tell you that he first sighted us?’ asked Harry.

‘South of Balize, of course.’

‘Not south, Barón. We were off Balize. We were hove to, waiting for the boat carrying Captain Fernandez to come out from the fort.’

Harry was bluffing, hoping that since no one had mentioned it the fact that he’d run aground was unknown. De Carondelet started to search the untidy heap of papers. De Chigny, hitherto silent, sensing his mounting frustration, began to clear those which littered the floor. Even unable to find what he sought, the Governor replied to Harry with complete assurance.

‘Not true. It was only the sight of the fleet in the offing that forced you towards Fort Balize in the first place. You were made to run, hemmed in by his presence, and of necessity had to concoct this tale.’

‘I take leave to observe that you are no sailor, sir,’ said Harry. ‘But even you must see, by the merest glance, that Captain Fernandez would only approach a vessel that he could both see and reach.’

De Carondelet finally found the document he was seeking. He held the paper close to his face so that he could read it. His voice had a note of triumph as he continued.

‘You were inshore.’

‘That is in the report you have?’

‘It is!’

‘Which came to you from the Captain of the
Navarro
?’

‘Exactly.’

‘If you can explain to me how Captain San Lucar de Barrameda can have us out in the Gulf of Mexico, forced to run, while being inshore at one and the same time, I’d be obliged.’

‘That is irrelevant, Captain. You openly state you are a privateer,
a man whose business is to take and destroy your sovereign’s enemies.’

‘Of which Spain is not one.’

The pause was infinitesimal, the actual answer sounding contrived. ‘Such things are hard to prove out at sea.’

‘So you choose to believe the obvious contradictions in Captain San Lucar de Barrameda’s report?’

‘Are you impugning the honour of one of my officers?’

‘I have had enough of this,’ said James. ‘San Lucar de Barrameda is a liar and this, sir, is a complete fabrication. If you don’t withdraw it—’

Harry wasn’t quite sure what stopped James. It could have been the absurdity of issuing a challenge to such a man. More likely it was the way that de Carondelet suddenly collapsed, falling backwards into his high-backed chair like a punctured Montgolfier balloon. The Barón put one hand to his forehead, in a clear gesture of despair. De Chigny stepped forward and spoke to him quietly, before turning to the Ludlows and asking them if they’d leave the room.

‘I don’t think we’re destined for the rack,’ said James, looking along the timbered veranda that ran along the front of the wooden building.

‘Don’t be too sure, brother,’ Harry replied. De Chigny came out of de Carondelet’s office and, giving them an angry glance, headed off down the passage.

James addressed his retreating back loudly enough to ensure his remark was heard. ‘I cannot say that I’m overly impressed with Spanish hospitality.’

‘Damn the hospitality, James,’ said Harry, walking to the rail and looking out to where the ship’s masts showed above the levee. ‘That old man was in a stew because of the report that San Lucar de Barrameda sent upriver. Clearly the solution the good Captain offered was one he dearly wanted to accept. It’s as if, in some way, merely having someone to blame would absolve him of responsibility.’

‘Which means?’

‘It means that whatever was on the
Gauchos
was there by his approval.’

‘It might even be his own personal property.’

‘No,’ Harry replied, his face creased in concentration.

‘I wonder how much gold and silver she was carrying?’

‘Enough to reduce the Governor of New Orleans to the quivering syllabub we’ve just witnessed. Do you think the Spaniards could have discovered new mines here in Louisiana?’

‘That’s perfectly possible, given the size of the territory.’

‘Think of the implications of that, brother.’

‘Such a find would do wonders for de Carondelet’s prospects.’

‘What about Spain’s prospects? Remember this place was originally French and even King George had his eye on it at one time. The French gave it away because it was costing them money and we, having lost North America, also lost interest in the Mississippi delta. The Spanish are only here because no one else really wants the place.’

‘Add mines full of bullion and …’

James didn’t really need to finish that sentence. The Dons had been forced to cease hostilities with France partly through being nearly bankrupt. Despite the wealth plundered from the New World over the centuries, Spain was poor. If France was strong enough to impose peace, it was also strong enough to take back possession of New Orleans.

‘It’s not the kind of cargo that’s normally consigned to an ordinary merchant ship,’ said Harry. ‘All the precious metal that Spain mines in the New World is collected at one point, usually Cartagena or Vera Cruz, then shipped home in convoy.’

‘So that’s a good way to disguise the shipment, Harry. Especially if you wish neither to share credit with the Viceroy in Mexico nor alert an overwhelmingly French population to the find.’

‘True. That might also explain the way it was being transported.’

‘Enlighten me.’

‘It was hidden. I have a feeling that even the Captain didn’t know it was aboard.’

‘How can you say that?’

‘I can’t, James. But if you were carrying a lot of specie, and it has to be a substantial amount to so rattle de Carondelet, you wouldn’t let anyone near you, friend or foe, without taking some precautions.’

‘You didn’t with the
Navarro
.’

‘My choices, in that respect, were severely limited. Also I had no reason to fear them.’

‘I dare say you know where it was hidden too.’

Harry smiled, since James’s tone was clearly sarcastic. ‘Surely it had to be in those casks with those strange sweet granules? Remember, each one had been opened, each one scooped out just below the surface.’

That made James pensive. ‘I was watching de Barrameda when you mentioned those. He went quite green around the gills.’

‘Which suggests that I’m right. He knew about the cargo. No wonder he didn’t shout his orders to the
Navarro
.’

‘He did more damage by not doing so. But we were with him before the boat set off upriver. How did he write to de Carondelet?’

‘He must have sent another despatch by that galley we missed this morning. But I can’t fathom for the life of me why he did it. Surely he doesn’t actually believe we took the
Gauchos
.’

BOOK: The Scent of Betrayal
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