For the Glory of Spain

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Juan

Flushed and spirits high off their success of the plantation raid, everyone was filled with hope and a belief that they could do this. They could steal the ship and escape prison. There was much back-slapping and silly grins, and light steps carried them away to the next phase of the mission.

Mei wore the clothes she'd taken from a captain, and Lia had her native attire. The rest had changed out of their prisoner uniforms and donned English soldier ones instead: red coats and navy-blue pants. Juan felt odd wearing boots for the first time in years as prisoners normally went without. The men all had one musket in hand, bayonet fixed already, and a spare musket over their shoulders.

Jie the jaguar obediently strode at Mei's side, thankfully looking sated after gorging at the plantation.

Armand had also taken a bandolier of the heavy grenades, along with flint and steel to light them. Unfortunately, matches wouldn't be invented for another two hundred years.

They made their way along the narrow, dirt road from the plantation en route to the nearest large settlement: Speightstown. The road was only wide enough for a single wagon. One would have to pull off to the side to allow another to pass. On the right was the ocean, deep and mysterious in the night, waves lapping at the rocks only a few meters away. On the left grew wild brush and patches of jungle. But there were also many fields of sugarcane and cotton, vegetables and indigo. The other plantations were all thankfully quiet at this time of night.

"A fort!" Armand whispered, pointing ahead.

Everyone immediately went on alert and squatted low. In front of them, a stone bastion with cannons poking out of the ramparts faced the dark sea. There was only a faint strip of rocky beach on the westward side, and the road they were on would carry them past the fort's back door.

Lance waved them to be calm. "There are several along the coast here. Bridgetown might be the political and military capital and the governor's home, but Speightstown is the busiest commercial port in Barbados. This is where most of the sugar trade is done, which is why many of the richest merchants live here. The forts along the coast protect the town from attacks from the sea and the main road north and south. They've held off the French and Spanish more than once."

"Isn't that kind of bad for us?" Juan worried.

Lance half shrugged and shook his head. "Most of their attention is on the ocean. We should keep an eye out for patrols on the road, but if we're quiet and go cross country instead, we should be ok."

Juan caught Cheeto's nervous frown and the way he was restless on his feet. A familiar urge to comfort the young man came over him. Ever since they'd first met, Cheeto had been looking up to Juan as if the latter were an older brother. At first, Juan had kept his distance, determined to live in isolation and self-recrimination. But the kid had been so earnest that he'd broken through Juan's shell, and the two had become friends.

Juan put a big hand on the bony shoulder next to him. "Hey. Relax. We'll be ok."

Cheeto scoffed, pretending he was less bothered than he was. "Yeah, I know. I'm not worried. Just thinkin' about the plan."

Juan let the lie slide and asked Lance for clarification. "All those forts mean the soldiers will be there and not in town, right?"

Lance's nod was curt. "Most. Though there is a guard station in town too."

They got off the road and arced around the forts, going through wildlands and cutting through fields. When a patrol was sighted on the road, coming towards them, everyone threw themselves face down in the grass and lay in utter silence until it had passed.

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