base of those laurels? They mask a deer trail that will lead you right to Escovar’s cabin. Just keep to the trail.”
“You’re sure?” Tibbs asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Yes, my son. But I will walk this last distance with you, to keep you both out of trouble. I will tell Alsino you wish to trade gold for horses. He will forgive your intrusion once he hears me out.” The old priest leaned against the smooth, worn log and sighed. “I shall be glad to return to my people.”
“We are in your debt. Padre.” Kit had grown to like this simple man of God.
Tibbs slapped at a mosquito and left a bloody smear on the side of his neck. “God, but I will be glad to be rid of this forsaken country.” He patted the pouch he carried; it contained their future.
“We are almost home,” Kit said. “What will you do with your share, Bill?” It was a question they had asked one another throughout the voyage from Derna. Each time the answers changed as the men reconsidered what they wanted from life. “I don’t know anymore,” Kit continued. “I can’t seem to think any further than a tub of hot water and a soft bed.”
“Well, I can. From now on, others will risk their necks while I reap the rewards. We haven’t lost so much of our gold to keep a wise man from setting himself up for life. I have plans for us, Kit. Big plans.”
“I’m with you,” Kit said. “Only …”
“What?”
“The talk we heard of war with Britain.”
“Good God, man, that is none of our concern. We are men of wealth now. And the rich cannot afford to be patriotic.”
“You’re an incorrigible brigand, Bill Tibbs.”
“Just trying to save you from yourself,” Tibbs replied with a grin.
Kit glanced around at the priest. “Well, Father, are you rested enough to continue? The sooner we find horses, the sooner you can start back to the village.”
“I am rested,” the padre replied.
“Then we can be on our way.” Kit scrambled to his feet. He turned and happened to check the trail of crushed grass that marked their route across the meadow. Then he froze as a troop of Spanish dragoons materialized out of the forest behind them.
At a glance Tibbs knew there was trouble. He stood alongside his friend and watched in dismay as the dragoons readied their muskets and advanced on the men in the redoubt.
“Christ! What now?” Tibbs muttered.
“Not Christ,” Father Ramon spoke up. He too was on his feet and recognized at a glance the man who had tracked them down. “Sergeant Pablo Morales.” The priest also knew he was in desperate trouble for having aided the Inglés fugitives. Madre de Dios , how had Morales learned of the Yankees’ presence? the priest wondered.
“Get down, damn it,” Tibbs said, crouching behind the makeshift fort.
“Why? He’s seen us,” Kit replied.
“Like a bee trapped in a spider’s web, I fear we are caught, my friends,” the priest said, blessing himself with the sign of the cross.
“Bees sting,” Kit reminded the padre, and drew his pistols. Tibbs hurriedly readied his own weapons as he squatted under cover.
“There are too many. We’re finished, damn it,” Tibbs growled in disgust.
“They’ll lose some of their men in the process,” Kit said, facing the dragoons, who had begun to walk their mounts forward, slowly advancing on the makeshift fort. “I don’t think any one of them is in a hurry to die.”
“What are you getting at?” Tibbs said.
“Please. No killing,” Father Ramon blurted. “I cannot allow it.”
“Shut up, Padre,” Tibbs said. “Kit?”
Kit checked his guns, taking care to prime each weapon. Then he looked over his shoulder at the edge of the forest beyond which Alsino Escovar’s cabin ought to be. “We need horses if we’re to get out of this.”
“Forget it,” Tibbs said. “Those dragoons would ride us down before we got halfway.”
“Us. But not you, if I stay here and give them something to worry about. You go get us horses from
“You’re sure?” Tibbs asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Yes, my son. But I will walk this last distance with you, to keep you both out of trouble. I will tell Alsino you wish to trade gold for horses. He will forgive your intrusion once he hears me out.” The old priest leaned against the smooth, worn log and sighed. “I shall be glad to return to my people.”
“We are in your debt. Padre.” Kit had grown to like this simple man of God.
Tibbs slapped at a mosquito and left a bloody smear on the side of his neck. “God, but I will be glad to be rid of this forsaken country.” He patted the pouch he carried; it contained their future.
“We are almost home,” Kit said. “What will you do with your share, Bill?” It was a question they had asked one another throughout the voyage from Derna. Each time the answers changed as the men reconsidered what they wanted from life. “I don’t know anymore,” Kit continued. “I can’t seem to think any further than a tub of hot water and a soft bed.”
“Well, I can. From now on, others will risk their necks while I reap the rewards. We haven’t lost so much of our gold to keep a wise man from setting himself up for life. I have plans for us, Kit. Big plans.”
“I’m with you,” Kit said. “Only …”
“What?”
“The talk we heard of war with Britain.”
“Good God, man, that is none of our concern. We are men of wealth now. And the rich cannot afford to be patriotic.”
“You’re an incorrigible brigand, Bill Tibbs.”
“Just trying to save you from yourself,” Tibbs replied with a grin.
Kit glanced around at the priest. “Well, Father, are you rested enough to continue? The sooner we find horses, the sooner you can start back to the village.”
“I am rested,” the padre replied.
“Then we can be on our way.” Kit scrambled to his feet. He turned and happened to check the trail of crushed grass that marked their route across the meadow. Then he froze as a troop of Spanish dragoons materialized out of the forest behind them.
At a glance Tibbs knew there was trouble. He stood alongside his friend and watched in dismay as the dragoons readied their muskets and advanced on the men in the redoubt.
“Christ! What now?” Tibbs muttered.
“Not Christ,” Father Ramon spoke up. He too was on his feet and recognized at a glance the man who had tracked them down. “Sergeant Pablo Morales.” The priest also knew he was in desperate trouble for having aided the Inglés fugitives. Madre de Dios , how had Morales learned of the Yankees’ presence? the priest wondered.
“Get down, damn it,” Tibbs said, crouching behind the makeshift fort.
“Why? He’s seen us,” Kit replied.
“Like a bee trapped in a spider’s web, I fear we are caught, my friends,” the priest said, blessing himself with the sign of the cross.
“Bees sting,” Kit reminded the padre, and drew his pistols. Tibbs hurriedly readied his own weapons as he squatted under cover.
“There are too many. We’re finished, damn it,” Tibbs growled in disgust.
“They’ll lose some of their men in the process,” Kit said, facing the dragoons, who had begun to walk their mounts forward, slowly advancing on the makeshift fort. “I don’t think any one of them is in a hurry to die.”
“What are you getting at?” Tibbs said.
“Please. No killing,” Father Ramon blurted. “I cannot allow it.”
“Shut up, Padre,” Tibbs said. “Kit?”
Kit checked his guns, taking care to prime each weapon. Then he looked over his shoulder at the edge of the forest beyond which Alsino Escovar’s cabin ought to be. “We need horses if we’re to get out of this.”
“Forget it,” Tibbs said. “Those dragoons would ride us down before we got halfway.”
“Us. But not you, if I stay here and give them something to worry about. You go get us horses from
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