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    The Black Rose 2: Apocalypse
    The Black Rose 2: Apocalypse
    The Black Rose 2: Apocalypse
    Ebook409 pages6 hours

    The Black Rose 2: Apocalypse

    By Raymond Towers

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    About this ebook

    Bound by ancient gypsy magic are the destinies of the Latham men and the Spanish women. It is love that has brought them together, seeking to bond them where no bond at all should exist. This is a time of ghosts and witches, of demons and vampires, a time of darkness, but also of light, love, passion and sacrifice. And yes, throughout all of it, there will be blood... Rating: HIGH controversy.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRaymond Towers
    Release dateNov 7, 2016
    ISBN9781370720569
    The Black Rose 2: Apocalypse
    Author

    Raymond Towers

    Raymond Towers is an author of fantasy, horror and science fiction that strays away from the mainstream, plus a little in the way of true paranormal and other genres. He has written and independently published over forty titles, most of them full-length novels and collections, with several more on the way. The author has been a lifelong resident of warm and sunny southern California, a location that pops up frequently in his writing. At the moment, the author is looking for ways to reach new readers all over the world, in addition to pursuing his great love of writing and taking it to the next level.

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      Book preview

      The Black Rose 2 - Raymond Towers

      The Black Rose 2

      Apocalypse

      Raymond Towers

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright 2016 Raymond Towers

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Content Rating: All of the characters in this e-book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, whether living or dead, is purely coincidental. This e-book contains a HIGH amount of controversial subject matter.

      Cover Image: The cover image Brunette Woman Witch, Gothic Make-Up. It was produced by Katalinks and was acquired through Dreamstime.

      This novel is dedicated to M.C., who, once again, has the sweetest of throats.

      #####

      Table Of Contents

      Part I: The Pirates

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Part II: The Ill-Fated Love Affair

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Part III: The Queen Of Africa

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      About The Author

      Author Website

      #####

      The Black Rose 2

      Apocalypse

      Part I: The Pirates

      Chapter 1

      (Millsboro, Sussex County, Delaware, in the year of our Lord 1794)

      The moment the clerk opened the hotel’s front door, fantasies of hot, steamy sex began to cloud through his mind. He blamed this on the racy story he’d been reading in the periodical, just a few minutes ago, under the soft amber glow of the oil lamp resting on the front desk. That was just before he left his chair to get the door. But no, there was more to it than that. Something was in the air, something that intoxicated him as a man and aroused him. As his senses honed in on that peculiar, invigorating scent, he realized it was ebbing from the woman who was at that very moment stepping into the lobby.

      Well, how do you do? The clerk asked, courteously. As a matter of habit, the clerk glanced outside to see if a stagecoach had dropped the woman off, or if there was luggage to be carried in. There was no luggage, he observed, and no coach either. That was highly unusual, he thought, as unusual as a woman coming in alone at such a late hour. It was well past midnight.

      Hello. The woman said, only casually turning her head to the side to acknowledge him, before she sauntered up to the front desk.

      The clerk hurried around her and to his usual spot. From here, he could get a better look at her. Try as he might to will his excited state to go away, the man found he could not do it. If anything, his arousal was becoming stronger.

      The woman dressed like a traveler. She wore a gray linen dress in the Brunswick style, a little dated in the clerk’s opinion, with a hood on the back of it. She also had on a black cape, clasped by a silver chain around her chest. Her shoes were black and made of silk, with silver buckles on them. Much of the stranger’s attire looked like old money, except for her black hair. It was not teased up and adorned like a lady’s hair; it was cut short and practical. Her hair hung down loosely to the shoulders.

      The clerk could not stop staring at the woman, or imagining bedding her. His cock was as straight as a flagpole for her.

      A room. She said.

      Of course. The man nodded, suddenly cognizant of his rude staring. He pulled out his ledger and quoted her a few prices, assuming she would want a room in the middle of the range. After opening up the ledger and withdrawing a quill and inkwell, he moved the items closer to her end of the desk. Your name, please.

      I must give you a false name.

      A false name, you say?

      I have come from the north, but I prefer not to say precisely where. She explained. Only know that I have arrived here from Georgetown. I am now running away from my husband. He has fallen into love with another woman, you see. I have no recourse but to run away, as there is no provision in that territory for divorce. I will not stand for an adulterous husband, and so I have decided to leave him. I will stay in your hotel tonight. Tomorrow I will travel to Selbyville. From there I will go further east to Sandy Branch. I will pay a ship for passage, either to New Jersey or to New York. After that, I don’t know where I’ll go. I don’t care as long as I am far away from that man.

      The clerk stared at her foreign features. Her skin was pale, her cheeks full, and her lips and nose pretty. Her eyes, however, were magnificent. They seemed to take in everything around them all at once, absorbing it, even fondling it. The clerk felt as if his very soul were immersed inside that alluring gaze. It was her eyes that made her regal and beautiful.

      Are you… He started. Are you French?

      The woman laughed. No, I am not French. I am Spanish. Tell me the name of a woman you once loved, but that is now gone from you. That is the name I will write in your ledger.

      A woman I once was in love with? The clerk asked, amused.

      I will reward you, if you tell me.

      Her tone and her eyes were coquettish, the clerk noted. He gave the woman the name of his first love and watched as she wrote it down. She wrote letters well, much better than he did. He wondered what his reward would be. The stirring his loins wondered this as well.

      As if from the very air, a coin appeared in the woman’s hand. She set it on the desk and slid it toward him. The clerk took it and studied it, for it looked like gold. It weighed like gold, but the inscriptions on it were entirely unfamiliar.

      What sort of coin is this? He asked.

      It is an Escudo from Portugal, minted in Brazilian gold. She revealed. You will observe that this coin has been defaced. The symbols on it cannot be identified, nor the year it was minted. It is worth much more than a single night’s stay in this hotel. Are you the owner here?

      No. The clerk chuckled. I am of the middle sort, not rich and not poor, but somewhere in between the two.

      I suggest to you, my friend, that you pay for my room from your own pocket and that you keep the coin for yourself. Do you have a wife and children?

      Yes, yes, I do. One wife and three little ones, although I sometimes wish it was the other way around, if you get my meaning. The clerk laughed out loud and the Spanish woman laughed with him.

      There it was again, he thought. That feeling of sexual heat, flowing out from that woman as if she could bring it out of her body at will. He imagined jumping over the counter and having his way with her. The aroused man could hardly refrain his body from doing this on its own. It felt as if his inhibitions were being ripped loose from him.

      The woman looked away from him, her eyes reflective. I suggest you buy your wife a gift with your extra money, and gifts for your children as well. Never forget your children. Could you show me to the room?

      The sensuality slipped away. A sort of melancholy began to permeate the lobby. There was loss there, and despair, the clerk felt.

      He slid his lamp closer to his side, using its light to pick out a key from a drawer. Let me light a lamp for you. Then we’ll be on our way.

      I need no lamp. She said. I’ll find my way around the room.

      Are you a cat, that you can see in the dark?

      The woman did not answer; she turned away from him. When she did this, the room of a sudden became much colder than it had been. It was unnerving, for the clerk to feel such moods swaying back and forth within him, so much that he took his lamp and hurried up the stairs. The woman came behind him by a stride. She seemed to flow up the steps as if she were not walking but floating. The clerk found the room and unlocked it, stepping in to show her where everything was found. It wasn’t a fancy room, but it did have a woman’s preening table with a mirror, a porcelain tub and a bed wide enough for three people.

      Is there a woman who can help me undress? She asked.

      Under her gown, the woman wore a bodice, the clerk realized. With the straps laced up tightly on the back, she would be unable to undo them on her own.

      There is a Negro woman. The clerk said. I can go and wake her.

      I would rather not wake anyone else. Can you do this for me?

      If you’d like for me to do it, I will.

      And so, the clerk helped this mysterious Spanish woman remove the two pieces of her gown, and the bodice she wore beneath that. She was left only in her chemise, which was unexpected because English women did not wear them, but French women did. It was alluring to see a woman dressed only in her chemise, as that was the last layer of clothing a woman wore. Below that, there was only her nude body.

      That will be all. She said.

      The clerk had grown aroused again, at the thought of this woman standing near nude before him and with a lavish, comfortable bed only a few feet away. He could take her to the bed or force her on it, for she was a small woman, and surely much weaker than he was. Still, there would be a scandal if he did that. Besides, the clerk did have a new gold coin in his pocket that he could probably use to buy his entire family a new wardrobe. She had her back turned to the clerk. The man wondered what sorts of thoughts were running through her head.

      Well, you have a good night. The man said, finally. If you happen to need anything, you can be sure to find me in the lobby. I’ll be there until sunrise. Are you sure you won’t need a lamp?

      I won’t need it. She reaffirmed.

      Well, all right. Again, good night.

      The woman said nothing as the clerk left and shut the door, bathing her in darkness. The light was good to her, but the darkness was good also. She was well accustomed to dwelling in both. In the black, she could see the bed.

      The woman wondered that it would be soft and warm, and so unlike the hard ground she sometimes slept on out of necessity. Still, she loved the swamp, the Great Cypress Swamp of Delaware, because it was her home. It had been her home for so many years that she had forgotten what everything else was like. Luxuries such as soft beds were meant for soft people, she decided. When she went to sleep, she lay down not on the bed but on the floor. The carpet in the room was a luxury in itself. She had to shut off all the strange scents that were exuding from it, due to her sensitive sense of smell, a sense more acute than what normal humans possessed.

      She didn’t need much sleep, ordinarily. The long run through the swamp, however, from Morganville to Millsboro, had been a taxing one. This exertion caused her to sleep much longer than usual. Her ears were honed in to listen to any sounds coming from the hallway the entire time she slept.

      It was all a ruse, of course.

      The next day, the Spanish woman took a coach to Selbyville. While using another name, she exchanged money and made purchases. She stopped at a couple of public places to eat. To everyone she met, she gave the same story. The woman said she was fleeing from a cheating husband, that she was heading to Sandy Branch to catch a ship that would take her out of Delaware. She stopped all coach drivers coming into and going out of town, to find out where they were coming from and where they were going next, and what time they would be leaving. She made a deal with one, to meet the stagecoach a mile past the end of town. Anyone who had spoken to the Spanish woman that day would have assumed she was heading east, to the small port at Sandy Branch. In truth, the strange woman did want to visit there, for it brought back memories of people she once knew, of people who were no longer alive.

      Instead, the woman hid herself. She went around the town of Selbyville, instead of through it, to make sure none would be the wiser as to what she was up to. When the stagecoach found her, alone and standing on the rutted road headed west, she boarded it. That was the direction she truly wanted to go, towards Morganville. Her trail was sloppy at some points, but this was done deliberately. She didn’t care that a discerning investigator would be able to trace her from Millsboro to Selbyville to Morganville. What she did care about was that people would think she had come from somewhere up north. Her point of destination didn’t matter as much as her point of origin did.

      Now that the Spanish woman was headed back to Morganville, back to her home in the swamp, she was ready to start using her true surname again. She also wanted to be called by the more recent name she had taken a fancy to, Eve. The girl who was once known as Mirela Petulengro was about to be reborn as Eva Mirela Amaro. To the Anglos, she would be Eve, not because she was the first of her kind, but because she was the last.

      (Sandy Branch, Sussex County, Delaware, in the year of our Lord 1752)

      The tall redhead looked as pretty as a portrait, as she leaned back and content against a tree. She could stand that way forever, it seemed. The woman had gained a tremendous amount of control over her body in recently weeks. Surely, she could keep that pose long enough for a painter to capture her likeness in that pleasant outdoor setting. That was the trend in paintings, she knew; English artists painted their subjects out of doors, while French painters painted them inside. Not that she was anything of an art connoisseur, mind you.

      On the other hand, she did have an ear for who was spending money, and on what sorts of things money was being spent on. Or as much as she could, anyway, considering her home was deep, deep in the Cypress swamp.

      The redhead’s features were bold, with strong, piercing eyes, equally strong cheekbones and lips as full as her bosom. She looked more Irish than Spanish, although she was a mongrel of both. She wore clothing that marked her as a woman from the country: a simple dress of cotton, colored in green, a short, hooded cloak in red, and a neckerchief in white.

      It was October now, with the trees shedding the last of their leaves for the coming winter. A perfect landscape for a portrait, the redhead imagined, for her soul mirrored that time of season. Portending desolation and demise, that is what Fall signified to her. That is also what she herself had become.

      The coast was only a stone’s throw away from where she stood. Only two or three stone’s throws past the edge of the ocean stood a ship. The woman didn’t know what sort of ship this was; only that it flew a Spanish flag. It certainly didn’t belong to the people who presently crewed it.

      The captain brought the ship as close to the shore as was deemed safe. The single safety boat was loaded up and soon rowing toward the beach with a total of three men. What was most unexpected to the waiting redhead was that the man who stood up and waved to her was her lover Alfonso. He was a capable youth, she could admit as much to herself, but a captain over an entire crew of men?

      The woman raised her hand in acknowledgment of the wave. Although she was not generally known as a patient creature, she waited there in that same stance. She smelled the air coming in from the ocean, catching its salt. She also felt the rough bark at her back, and heard every sound around her in ways that other people could not.

      When the boat reached shore, Alfonso bounded from it and came running to her. Quickly, Violeta, tell me what transpires here! We cannot be near this shore for too long before we attract English flies all around us!

      Alfonso used her given name, the redhead mused, and not the other name the stupid Romani gypsies had cursed her with. In truth, she hadn’t decided which of the two names she wanted to be known as. Violeta sounded gentle and passive. Certainly, she was neither of those things…

      Violeta! Alfonso snapped at her.

      Refer to me as Violca for now, until I decide otherwise.

      Alfonso looked confused. This is important at this time? Come now, woman, tell me what I need to know!

      She motioned behind her. I have two empty wagons with horses, hidden there in the trees. Have your men bring the goods here and drop them at my feet. Then go back to your ship and bring more.

      What, have you hidden ten men in the forest to help with the loading? Alfonso laughed.

      Do as I say. Violca replied. Have I ever given you reason to doubt me?

      No, you have not. Alfonso admitted. Very well, but know that we have six tons of supplies to unload. Beans, rice, wheat, clothing, and yes, we bring many weapons with us. He turned to scurry back to the boat, before he ground to a halt and faced her. I will make time for you later, Violca, when we are done. You look as beautiful as you did the last time I lay eyes on you.

      A moment later, Alfonso had given his back to her and was running to the water. It wasn’t much of an introduction for two lovers who hadn’t seen each other in over half a year. For the moment, for Violca, it would have to be enough.

      She watched the men unload barrels from the boat and roll them over the sand toward her. They also carried boxes of small and medium sizes. It might take them half the day to unload so many goods this way, using a single small boat as the go-between, but this is the way it had to be done. If they were to pull into a port like the one at Sandy Branch, surely there would be requests or demands to see official documentation. Ships bearing Spanish flags did not stop near the English colonies, but continued south to their own colony in Florida.

      Violca pointed out where she wanted the items placed, as the unloading men came in closer to her. They were common brutes. Both men eyed her closely, as one would eye a piece of sweet cake. Violca smiled at them, when Alfonso was not near enough to see what she was up to.

      Well, that’s the first load, but we’ve many more to set down beside this one. Alfonso said, with sweat already streaming down his forehead. We’ll be back as soon as we can, woman.

      Violca waited until the boat left the shore, before she picked up the first of the barrels and carried it over to the nearest wagon. By herself, she placed the large barrel into the wagon and pushed it into place. She went back and gathered the rest of the load and took care of that as well. The woman had plenty of strength still left, even though it would have taxed any normal man greatly by then. This was because she had fed recently on the unlucky drivers of those two wagons. Their blood had infused her with such power that it would take some time for her strength to wane.

      When the boat drew onto shore a second time, Violca leaned against that same tree and contemplated the pale blue sky. Alfonso ran up to her, astonished when he saw that the previous goods were already gone from sight.

      Woman, are you using witchcraft here? He demanded to know. Since he was so worried over being caught, he hurried back to help the others unload.

      Another recognizable form came up to her. This was Esteban, Alfonso’s brother. Alfonso and Esteban were twenty and nineteen. The young men looked so much alike that they could at times be confused for twins. Especially if they took the trouble to wear similar clothes or to act the same way. Alas, this favorite ruse of theirs would no longer bear fruit, for Alfonso had gained muscle on his frame, while Esteban remained lean. Also the younger man had a new scar on the side of his face that marred him.

      Violca, are you a sight sweet to my eyes, after having to stare at only dog-faced men for the entire trip across the ocean. Esteban laughed. A pity you have no sister to warm me with her arms, as my brother has in you.

      Violca laughed back. Your brother does not own me, Esteban. I can be plied with gifts of jewelry. You know how much I like golden necklaces.

      Around them, a new set of brutes brought up more barrels, along with many bundles of rifles, she noticed.

      You want to see my brother and I wrestle for you, is that it? Esteban grinned. Alfonso would win. He’s much stronger than I am now.

      I noticed this. What happened to your face?

      Esteban grimaced, before shaking his head. We were set to rob a man in an alley. Alfonso was to take his coin, while I would stay behind and allow myself to be searched. Unfortunately, we did this in the territory of another guild of thieves. These scoundrels surrounded us and meant to kill us both.

      Alfonso ransomed freedom for the two of you?

      Nearly. Esteban confirmed. The thieves agreed to this, but they meant to mark us as a way to punish us for working in their territory. They overpowered me and they cut my face. They were about to cut Alfonso’s face in a different manner to tell us apart, but Alfonso had a dagger hidden in his clothes. He managed to kill two of them. We were still surrounded. As the thieves didn’t want to lose any more of their number, and as Alfonso had already agreed to pay them our ransom, they let him go. When he returned and paid them off, they let me go. What’s more, they agreed to join forces with us, and also with the thieves that worked with us. Together, we numbered at eight men and three women. Under Alfonso’s planning we began to torment the Church. He motioned at the goods the sailors were piling up. You can see how well we did in Portugal, but things became too hot for us. Alfonso had us steal a ship and come here.

      Violca surveyed the goods. It looked to her as if Alfonso meant to survive the winter with them, and also to put up a good fight if they had to. She turned back to Esteban. Tell me about the ship. What kind of ship is it?

      It’s a merchant schooner, meant for a crew of between three and five. We have eleven people on it now. We had to stuff ourselves into the cargo hold for much of the trip. Once it is unloaded, we will take it further out on the water and burn it, for surely the Portuguese are looking for it now. The Spanish flag was used to misdirect them, but none of us think the ploy worked. Now, you tell me where the rest of the gypsy bastards are hiding. Are they well? How are things between the bastards and the Romani?

      Violca sighed. There has been some trouble here. The Romani are gone. They’ve left the bastards to fend for themselves in the swamp.

      What of the Amaro sisters?

      They are still with us, but they are not the same as they were before.

      But they live, yes? And what of the brother and sister? What has become of them?

      Andre is dead. His sister Zura is also dead.

      What? Esteban asked in genuine dismay. How did this happen?

      I will tell you all of it later. For now, know that things are very different than when you and your brother left us.

      We did not leave you. We came back, didn’t we? We’re here now, because we’ve come back for you.

      You’re right. You have come back. I am very glad to see you both.

      Esteban stared at her for a moment, before he noticed the loaders were finishing up. I’ll be staying here to help you load the goods into the wagon. I must say, it doesn’t look as if you need any help from me.

      Things have changed, Esteban, in many ways. You’ll see for yourself soon enough.

      Once the sailors were gone, Esteban followed Violca to the nearest of the barrels. The pirate expected her to first roll it over to where the pair of wagons stood. Instead, the crimson-haired woman lifted the barrel up, bracing it against her chest and stomach. She ambled due to the barrel’s size, but nevertheless carried it over to the wagon’s edge. The barrel was tipped over the side of the wagon, and pushed to slide a short distance onto it. Violca then walked back for another one.

      It takes two men to pick up a barrel like that! Esteban remarked.

      Perhaps I picked up a lighter one. Violca teased, as she heaved up a second barrel and carried it the same way. Come jump on the wagon and set them right. You can help me by doing that.

      Astonished at the woman’s strength, Esteban hurried over.

      It took the better part of a day to unload the entire ship. When done, eleven thieves-turned-pirates stood around Violca. She was as tired as they were by then. What’s worse; her pretty dress was scuffed up and soiled. The wagons were fully loaded and ready to roll away. Enough goods were left over for a second load. These had been carefully hidden in the forest.

      Alfonso had just taken a vote among the thieves. He sat there deliberating over what to do next. I wish I could keep that ship, for it is a good ship. You say this port of Lewis-Town is only a few miles to the north?

      More than a few, but I don’t know how many. Violca admitted. I know it is a busy port.

      Well, my fellow pirates want me to sell the ship instead of burning it. Alfonso said. Already, two other ships have passed us by, but we had the Spanish flag down by then and so it wasn’t seen. I wish I knew more about the southern ports in Maryland, but I don’t. And then this Lewis-Town is a direct route to Cape May. That’s too much close to New Jersey and New York, where assuredly the Portuguese will come looking for us. He let out a long breath before facing his fellows. I’ll take two men with me. We will sail to Lewis-Town straight away. I will sell the ship there. It won’t fetch its true value, so don’t any of you expect that! What I will do is to split the proceeds between the lot of us, because something for each is better than nothing at all. After that, we will hire a coach to bring us here to Sandy Branch. Violca, what are your ideas for getting our goods into the swamp?

      The redhead had thought this out ahead of time. We can go anywhere in the swamp, or further west if you want to.

      No, no. Alfonso refused. I don’t know my way across this country. Neither do the rest of us. If anyone were to pursue us inland, they would have the advantage. The swamp is a good place to hide. It is only twenty to thirty miles from the coast at the place where the Romani were camped. If we’re close to the ocean and we take a ship, we can go in any direction. If need be we can sail all the way back to Europe. Let’s see what we can find here before we decide to move anywhere else.

      There are the lumber camps. Violca informed him. There are three of them, spread out along the south and west of the swamp. We can do what the Romani did, which is to send a few men to work at the camps, while the rest of us stay in the swamp and do as we please. I cannot be seen in public. Neither can the Amaro sisters, for the people in the town there think that we are all dead.

      Winter is coming. Alfonso said, thoughtfully. If we had men working at the camps they could be our eyes and ears. I cannot be seen either, nor my brother, for he has his ugly scar to tell the entire world who he is. Some of us could blend in, surely.

      They cannot say they are Spanish. Violca warned.

      Of course not. Alfonso agreed. Now, tell me what happened to the rest of the bastards. Esteban tells me that Andre and Zura are dead.

      They are. A wealthy man, a part owner of the lumber company, seduced Zura. He took her to a farmhouse and killed her. Andre went to Morganville and found this man and killed him. There was a manhunt, where Andre and Donka were killed. Along with them a number of Romani and English were also killed. I made a deception, where it appeared that both Amaro sisters died in the swamp after being eaten by alligators. I have forbidden the sisters from emerging from the swamp, just as the Romani had forbidden us bastards before me. So far the sisters have obeyed me. Only one man knows I still live. This is Ben Latham, who is also part owner of the lumber company. I don’t know what he suspects, but he has not come into the swamp to look for me. I believe he fears me, because of my… new strength. There is more to this story, my dear Alfonso. I will tell you of it, and Esteban. The two of you and the two Amaro sisters, and myself, are all that is left of our clan of seven.

      Yes, that strength of yours is beyond my belief. Alfonso said. And as for Donka, I am glad she is dead. Always, she considered her own words above those of everyone else. In remembrance of the Romani elder, he vehemently spit to the side.

      Violca had no great love for the ancient woman, but Donka had converted her and her two clan-sisters into something more than human. For that she was very grateful.

      Here is what we will do. Alfonso decided. I’ll take two men and sail the ship to Lewis-Town, as I said before. I’ll sell the ship there and come back in three days or four. I will come here, to this spot. That leaves eight of us, not counting Violca. Five men and three women. Two men can stay here to guard the goods we’ve left hidden. So now we have three men and three women, which is good. To all appearances, it will look as if three families are relocating.

      There are too many supplies in the wagons for this to go unnoticed. One man mentioned.

      Especially when we come back for a second load. Alfonso agreed. Brother, you will have to come up with a reasonable explanation for so many supplies. I have my mind too busy on fetching a good price for the ship. Three men and three women will drive the wagons into Morganville. The men will get hired on at the camps, while the women can find some way or another to make their selves useful. I know what, the women can pass messages between those of us at the camps and the rest of us in the swamp. When I get back and all these remaining supplies are gone, I will take the rest of us through the swamp and travel through it toward the old Romani camp.

      The lumber company has built a canal to move the lumber through. Violca said. You can use that to find us, if you walk along the north bank.

      Good, good. Alfonso said. All of this is coming together. Brother, do not let any of these Englishmen see your scar. I would keep you here in the forest, but I don’t trust any of these other scoundrels to drive two wagons full of goods without trying to steal half for their selves.

      Will we be destroying the wagons or selling them? Esteban asked.

      No, we’ll be keeping them, in the case we have to move suddenly. Alfonso said, as he took a spot in the midst of the thieves. The women have no choice here, because it would do no good to have all these cutthroats roaming the countryside by their selves. They will have to pretend to be wives or sisters or some such thing. As for you men, you will have to vote on who will be working at these lumbers camps, and who will be living with me in the swamp, and thinking up some new schemes that will make us all rich. He noted how late the hour was growing. You’ll have to vote quickly, for I want to be on my way before nightfall. Violca, come and talk to me before I go.

      Alfonso moved away from the group and closer to the wagons. After a quick inspection, the young pirate stepped around them and went further into the trees, where the remainder of the merchandise lay. Violca followed in

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