“How long was I down there?” Hastelloy asked.
“Almost three and a half years.”
Hastelloy lowered his head and shook it in amazement. “I wasn’t even close. I tried keeping track of time with markings on the cellar wall based on my feedings and light from under the doorway, but I was a year and a half off.”
“You must have slept through some feedings, and stormy days could have looked like nighttime,” Valnor offered as consolation.
“What took so long?” Hastelloy asked of his rescuer. He meant it as a legitimate question and not an accusation of incompetence, but the sound of frustration invariably made its way into his tone.
“It took me two years to finally get France to invade Naples. Once I accomplished that, I began looking into your progress, but reports from the New World are scarce at best. Ships only arrive and depart every couple of years,” Valnor answered. “For all I or any of us knew for the longest time, you were in the new colonies working your magic.”
“What alerted you that I wasn’t?”
“Last year a fleet of treasure ships returned from the New World loaded with gold, silver, spices, and slaves. The accounting of it all gave credit to Juan Ponce de León as royalty payment to the king and queen. I figured if he was doing so well in the New World, then for some reason you must not be there,” Valnor explained.
“I did a little digging into Juan’s activities and found he purchased a small farm outside Cadiz shortly before leaving three years ago. I had a feeling that you might be the reason for that acquisition.” Valnor concluded with a soft voice of condolence.
“Good work,” Hastelloy said to brighten Valnor’s dour mood. “They could have stashed me anywhere in the world, and you managed to find me. That is a job well done.”
“Maybe, but my delay in France and tracking you down kept me away from England,” Valnor admitted with shame. “When your trade deal never came through, the king became impatient.”
“King Henry sent a fleet didn’t he?” Hastelloy asked and received a silent nod of confirmation. “Damn that boy and his agents.”
“I’m sorry, Captain—” Valnor began but was cut short by Hastelloy grasping his head with both hands.
“Listen to me,” Hastelloy said as he brought them close enough together that their foreheads touched. “This is on me. I made a mistake. I got captured, and that put you in an impossible situation. You rescued me from that prison. That was your duty and you did it. Fixing my blunder in the New World is on me, it is my responsibility.”
“You can’t, Sir. Juan knows you. He will hear of your escape and be looking for you.”
“I know that. In fact, I’m counting on it,” Hastelloy answered.
Valnor pulled his head away from Hastelloy’s grasp to voice his concern. “You are making this personal again.”
“He locked me in a dark cellar for over three years. You’re damn right it’s personal!” Hastelloy exclaimed before calming his voice and settling Valnor’s concern with a confident grin. “It’s also personal for him, and that is our way to victory and righting the ship that has strayed so far off course in the New World.”
Valnor knew that look, and his eyes brightened with hope to replace his concern. “How can I help?”
“The English are in the New World now. There is no putting that genie back in the bottle. If we can’t stop them, then I need you to join them,” Hastelloy said. “I want you to go to England and encourage them to settle the new lands as quick as possible.”
“Sir? Weren’t you trying to prevent that?”
“The English are there and there is no going back in time to change that. It’s time for a new plan. I want you to do everything you can to get England up on equal footing with the Spanish. That way both will have a strong enough presence to dissuade the other from any acts of aggression,” Hastelloy answered.
“Very well, I am off to London then.”
“And I have a boat to catch, for which I’m long overdue,” Hastelloy replied.
Chapter 26: Rule Change
“THERE THEY ARE,” Hastelloy pointed out to his dining companion as they sat around a small table near the docks. They spent the last hour watching a caravel returning from the New World pull into port. After what felt like an eternity spent waiting, the gangplank came down to the dock, and three men were escorted under heavy guard off the boat. “The three Columbus brothers: Christopher, Bartolomé, and Diego.”
The man across the table looked up from his bowl of soup and evaluated the scene for a moment before tossing his spoon down in disgust. “Oh blast it all, they’re in chains and irons just like you said they’d be.”
“That’ll be three reals please,” Hastelloy said with great cheer and an expecting hand lying palm up on the table.
“How did you know?” the man grumbled while dropping three coins into Hastelloy’s awaiting hand. “How did you know they’d go to the extent of humiliating the prisoners by putting them in shackles to parade them off the ship when they arrived?”
“Seemed a safe bet,” Hastelloy explained. “Christopher Columbus and his brothers were arrested under charges of tyranny by King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella, the same warm, gentle monarchs who brought us the Spanish Inquisition. It seemed to fall right in character for them.”
“The Columbus brothers must have carried out some truly egregious acts to offend the morals of that royal couple, let alone get themselves arrested and shipped all the way across the ocean to stand trial,” the well-dressed man marveled.
“It could have been Governor Columbus’ harsh treatment of the natives,” Hastelloy pointed out. “I’ve heard that tens of thousands were sold into slavery, thousands more have been worked to death in the gold and silver mines. When the natives did try and protest, his soldiers slaughtered an entire village and paraded their dismembered bodies through the streets in an effort to discourage further rebellion.”
“Why would the king and queen care about any of that? We must be firm with the natives because if you pardon one act of rebellion, then you encourage the commission of many. Cracking down on them and making a show of it is just good management if you ask me. Certainly not cause to arrive back in Spain wearing a set of iron bracelets,” the man countered.
Hastelloy was tempted to reach across the table and punch some morality back into the man, but this is what he bargained for when he propositioned the European powers to sail west. These were not explorers. They were greedy conquerors. They would brush aside the millions of natives occupying the land and claim it as their own. They would do so because there were riches for the taking, and their cannons and guns allowed them to take it.
Tragically, it was that simple. Punching out the man who would soon be Hastelloy’s best resource to fight Juan in the New World would do nothing to change what Hastelloy’s actions had set into motion. It was for the greater good, but that did not mean he had to like it.
“Maybe Governor Columbus’ arrest had to do with the treatment of his colonial subjects,” Hastelloy offered. “I heard that he cut the ears and nose off a man and then sold him into slavery for stealing a handful of corn.”
The dining companion nodded his head. “Agreed. I heard another account of Columbus parading a woman naked through the streets before cutting out her tongue in the main square for suggesting he was of lowly birth.”
“Still, even in the face of all his cruelty and mutilations, for the crown it all comes down to money, or rather the lack thereof,” the man amended. “The vast wealth that Columbus promised from his voyages has failed to appear. Last year a fleet of thirty treasure ships set sail from Hispaniola, but conveniently ran into a storm that sank all but one. Rumor has it that the other twenty-nine paid a visit to Columbus’ private treasury rather than the bottom of the sea.”
“Thirty ships?” Hastelloy repeated with much skepticism. “You believe that a colony of a few thousand people struggling with rebellious natives, not to mention food shortages and general s
urvival, could have found the time to fill thirty ships with gold and silver? I’d say filling just one required a minor act of divine intervention to accomplish.”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe,” the man countered. “It’s what the king and queen choose to believe. They have listened to the stories and rumors, and now it is up to the Columbus brothers to prove their innocence.”
Stories invented by Juan and his allies to get rid of Columbus, I’m sure, Hastelloy thought.
His dining companion caught Hastelloy off guard by dropping his soupspoon to level a stern finger at him. “You had best keep that in mind when we reach Santo Domingo in the New World. As my notary and treasurer, I am relying on you to keep an accurate accounting of what we acquire and how much belongs to the crown. As god is my witness, my governorship of the new lands will not end with me in chains.”
“Governor Ovando,” Hastelloy declared, addressing his companion in a formal tone. “I can assure you that your books and records will be beyond reproach.”
“Good,” Governor Ovando replied. “There are very big expectations on me to make the colonies pay out for the crown. I am going to crack down hard and put every last one of those natives to work for us so that I can send thirty ships loaded with treasure back home to Spain.”
“It will be my pleasure to serve,” Hastelloy answered with a bow of his head.
“Well then, shall we get to it?” Governor Ovando said on the way to his feet and heading for his flagship.
“Yes we shall,” Hastelloy responded while remaining seated. He looked over at the prisoners again and saw that the Columbus brothers were not the only ones escorted off the boat in chains. At least a hundred natives were also led away under armed guard to be sold into slavery.
“Right after I take a bath to get this moment off me,” Hastelloy said under his breath.
Chapter 27: The Powers That Be (1498 AD)
FROM THE MOMENT the island of Hispaniola came into view, Hastelloy knew this was indeed a new world. It bore no resemblance to the place he helped Christopher Columbus discover five years prior. Back then, dense forests and sprawling fields with tall grass dominated the landscape.
Now many of those forests were chopped down and the lumber used to build cabins, barns, and fences that dotted the hillsides. The grasslands were plowed in straight, even rows, where vast crops of corn, wheat, grapes, and tobacco flourished. The Europeans had officially colonized the island and made it their own.
If the sights of the countryside as his ship sailed past did not inform Hastelloy that things were different now, then seeing the capital city of Santo Domingo drove the lesson home with an exclamation point. This was no frontier town; it was a thriving metropolis and major economic center for commerce and administration in the region. The most notable feature was the presence of a deepwater harbor.
The business of lowering landing skiffs into the water and rowing ashore were long gone. The wooden docks of Santo Domingo accommodated up to ten ships at a time and shortened the process of unloading a ship from several days to just a few hours.
This was a welcome sight for all, considering Governor Ovando’s settlement fleet was the largest that had ever sailed for the New World, with thirty ships and over 2,500 colonists aboard. All of them had spent two months pent up aboard a small boat. To say they were eager to get ashore and stretch their legs was quite an understatement. Hastelloy certainly wanted off, as did Governor Ovando, and he had the authority to make it so.
“Shall we?” the governor asked of Hastelloy with his arm extending toward the offloading ramp.
“I believe the honor is yours, Governor, and let me be the first to welcome you to this new world that you are master of,” Hastelloy answered with a deferential bow of his head.
The harbormaster greeted them on the docks below. “Welcome to Santo Domingo, Governor.”
“I want my ships unloaded with all due haste,” Ovando ordered. “These brave colonists have been aboard these ships for far too long.”
The harbormaster looked ready to run away screaming in terror but found the courage to stay and say, “That could present a challenge, milord.”
“What? Why?” the governor insisted. “You have ten docks; even a child could direct things well enough to get these ships unloaded before nightfall. Get it done!”
“We have the docks but not the manpower,” the harbormaster countered with a frightened voice.
Governor Ovando looked ready to breathe fire out of his mouth before taking a look around to verify that the docks were indeed severely understaffed. He looked at Hastelloy with a smirk on his lips and hit his shoulder with a light-hearted slap. “You see, this is why we are here. I only see a handful of natives working the docks for us; that will be the first thing we change. God put these natives on this earth for us to use, and by God we will.”
“Begging your pardon, milord. Unless you brought a magical ability to cure diseases with you, you’ll fair no better than the last governor in that effort,” the harbormaster protested.
Ovando looked ready to run the man through for casting such an affront on his managerial abilities. “Explain that.”
“It’s these natives. They keep getting sick and dying. Whether it’s in the farm fields, the mines, or working the docks, these natives keep dying. I and many others have concluded that they’re not durable workers at all, milord.”
“My reports say there are over two hundred and fifty thoussand natives on this island alone. Are you telling me that among that many, there are none who make good workers?”
The harbormaster clearly did not like being the bearer of bad news, but he stood tall and did his duty. “There were that many at one time, but nine out of ten have died. At last census, there were fewer than thirty thousand left.”
The governor’s jaw dropped wide open and was aghast at the numbers he heard. The harbormaster used that moment of shock to emphasize his conclusion once more. “Like I said, they do not make good workers.”
They work just fine, it’s the diseases you and your unwashed kind brought to them that’s killing so many, Hastelloy wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, but he held his tongue. He was enraged beyond words, but he only had himself to blame. If he had been here, Hastelloy could have prevented this catastrophe by using the replicator. Juan got the better of him, and some two hundred thousand natives so far had paid the price for that failure.
“Hmmm,” Governor Ovando exhaled while contemplating the situation. “We shall have to bring in a more durable workforce then. I hear the slaves sold out of Africa are well suited for labor. Perhaps we should look to bring over a few boatloads with the next fleet.”
“Perhaps,” Hastelloy answered while masking his contempt for the notion. “In the meantime, our colonists will have to do their own work. Harbormaster, employ every able-bodied man among the colonists to assist with the unloading while I procure some more workers from the city.”
“You won’t find any,” the harbormaster cautioned. “Don’t you think I tried to bring as many workers to the docks as I could find for the governor’s arrival? I don’t enjoy looking incompetent you know . . .”
“Where is everyone then? I am the governor and they’ll do what I tell them to do,” Ovando insisted.
“That is your title, milord, but Juan Ponce de León holds all the power, coin, and fear over the colonists and remaining natives. Out here, men respond more to those forces than they do to titles. Anyone out here who is worth a damn works for him.”
“Juan is hardly old enough to shave and came here only a few years ago with hardly an ounce of gold to his worth. How can he possibly rule the New World with fear and coin?” Hastelloy challenged.
“The Higüey massacre,” the harbormaster answered as if it explained everything. The confused look on Hastelloy and Ovando’s faces prompted him to elaborate further. “The story goes that he lured the natives into friendly parley. He then unleashed an attack dog that tore the native’s leader to
pieces right before their eyes.
“The natives rebelled after that, and he made sure the assignment to put down the rebelling fell on him. His soldiers decimated the native men who fought and then had their women and children slaughtered in their villages to set an example. As a reward, de León was given a huge land grant and slaves to work his estate to generate his fortune.”
“How very Machiavellian of him,” Hastelloy observed, referring to the ruthless teachings of the current chancery secretary serving the Republic of Florence.
“But effective,” Governor Ovando added. “It seems that having the ambitious Juan Ponce de León come to me for a meeting shall be my first order of business.”
“While you do that, I’ll retreat to my notary duties and lose myself in reviewing the state of land grants and income documentation,” Hastelloy said, eager to make himself scarce to avoid undue contact with Juan and risk recognition.
“Better you than me,” Ovando chided. “I want no part of dealing with that nightmare.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about your task,” Hastelloy responded with a forced smile. This unwelcome news meant that he would have to deal with Juan eventually, but for now all he wanted to do was remain anonymous. That was the quickest path to reaching the mainland and the hidden replicator to stop any further spread of disease. Bad as the situation was, at least the Europeans had not reached the mainland with any meaningful presence yet. With a 90 percent mortality rate among the natives, that would be the end of things and the Alpha would eventually win control over this world.
Chapter 28: Power and Authority
JUAN KNEW THAT something had happened even before news of the navigator’s escape reached his ears by way of messenger from the latest settlement fleet to arrive. When he reached the New World, fresh from his victory over that unholy demon, God rewarded Juan with the circumstance that led to his immense fortune. At times, it seemed he could do no wrong as his wealth, esteem, and power in the New World grew.
Origins: Discovery Page 18