Mad Morgan by Kerry Newcomb

Author:Kerry Newcomb
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2011-07-11T04:00:00+00:00

We are Brethren of Blood,

we are sons of the sea.

We are children of havoc

and born to be free.

Betrayed by a passion, he will live to regret,

The power of a woman, the traps she can set.

But beware el Tigre who prowls in his cage,

What you sow with betrayal, you shall reap with red rage.

15. The city of gold.

It had taken ten long days for the Santa Rosa to make the journey from Jamaica to Portobello on the Caribbean coast of Panama. Arriving in the Spanish-held port, in the shadow of the fortress that protected the settlement, Henry Morgan emerged from the ship’s hold, filthy, hungry, but unbroken. Thrown in with a band of Kuna slaves recently captured during a raid on the Portobello piers, Morgan was forced to labor alongside the sullen natives and unload the trade goods from the Santa Rosa and San Bartolomeo onto large, oxen-drawn freight wagons.

Don Alonso was anxious to reach his governor’s estate in Panama City, and ordered the wagon train to set out from the port the following morning. Morgan and the Indians marched at the rear of the column, choking on the dust, driven along by whip and the occasional prodding of the lancers escorting the governor and his intended bride.

Three of the Kuna raiders died trying to escape during the four-day march across the isthmus. The wagon train kept to the heavily patrolled military road and avoided the Indian-infested jungles that were home to the rebellious remnants of the rebellious natives. Morgan could sense the dread the Spaniards felt toward the impenetrable vastness of swamps and vine-choked forest that stretched off to either side of the narrow line of ridges, highbacked hills, and plateaus the road followed.

Not a day went by that Morgan didn’t see Dona Elena Maria de Saucedo, always from a distance. Only once, Elena met his gaze when none were watching and she flashed him a brave smile of encouragement that puzzled Morgan all the more. Sympathy from the woman who had so skillfully betrayed him to his enemies?

On a warm and cloudy afternoon in late September, the wagon train bearing Don Alonso del Campo arrived at the walls of the fabled city on the Pacific. Soldiers at the gates cheered and waved their tricorn hats. Messengers were dispatched throughout the city to proclaim the arrival of the new governor.

Panama City was a glorious sight. But standing in the dust churned by the wagons, Morgan took note of its sparsely defended walls and the practically unattended redoubts. So, the Spaniards considered themselves secure from a landward attack. It made sense. Any force larger than a Kuna war party would have to approach over the mountain roads and be forced to battle its way past a number of fortified outposts before reaching the city and by then Panama’s defenders would have been alerted and prepared a nasty welcome for their enemies.

Of course, there were always the swamps and the jungle, but then, only a madman would attempt to lead a force along such a route.

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