Catalan is the official language of Catalonia and neighboring Andorra.
Andalusia is the southernmost and hottest region of Spain and was for centuries ruled by the Moors as Al-andalus.
The drac I’ve depicted is actually a mythical symbol of Catalonian folklore, the Viper or Wyvern, but I shifted it to Andalusia because I thought it would make a good pirate flag.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/European_dragon#Iberian_dragons
Montserrat is a famous Catalonian mountain range near Barcelona.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Montserrat_(mountain)
ST. AUGUSTINE
I have used the Spanish name in my story. I became aware of some of the history of this city thanks to The Antiques Road Show. I was inspired by the star-shaped fortress, the Castillo de San Marcos, to write about the people who lived in what was then Spanish territory, and the pirates who roamed the Spanish Main.
FORT MOSE
Fascinating history!
http://www.blackpast.org/aah/fort-mose-florida
GUANTANAMO
Though synonymous nowadays with the US Detention Center located there, Guantanamo is actually a large province in south-eastern Cuba with an extensive coastline. Guantanamo is also the name of the principal city. The US base, which did not exist at the time of my story, occupies a relatively small area at the mouth of the bay.
SHIPS
Santa María is, of course, a name that recurs throughout Spanish history, beginning with the ship that Columbus sailed to the New World in 1492. It’s not surprising, given the deeply Roman Catholic beliefs held by most Spaniards for centuries.
The Royal Navy ship HMS Lively did exist. It was never shipwrecked. In 1759 she was under the command of Fredrick Maitland. He did not die in Cuba. The sorry tale of why Collins, the cabin boy, ran away to sea was all too real for many children.
HUDSON’S BAY COMPANY
Founded in 1670 , this Company still exists today as a retail giant in Canada. It had its beginnings in the North American fur trade, accumulating enormous wealth through the supply of beaver pelts to satisfy the insatiable demand among European gentlemen for felt top hats. It is the oldest chartered company in North America.
The similarity of its flag to the Royal Navy’s Red Ensign was too tempting not to make use of!
SATURIWA
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saturiwa
Athore was the name of the son of Saturiwa who was chief when his people first came into contact with Europeans, hundreds of years before this story.
EMANCIPATION
The article on Fort Mosé has interesting information about freed slaves in Spanish territories.
TREATY OF PARIS 1763
https://history.state.gov/milestones/1750-1775/treaty-of-paris
This website underscores the importance of Cuba in the negotiations to end the Seven Years War.
HAITI
At the time of this story, Haiti did belong to France, but it was known as Saint-Domingue.
18TH CENTURY SPANISH WEDDINGS
Arrha was a traditional wedding gift of thirteen coins given to the bride by her groom as a token of his support. The mother of the groom usually walked him down the aisle. The bride had no attendants and often wore black. Santiago’s wedding would not have taken place in the Basilica de San Francisco de Asis. It was never used again for religious ceremonies after the departure of the British. Roman Catholics believed it had been defiled by the Anglican observances. Nowadays, it is used for concert recitals.
SPANISH GOVERNORS
Ambrosio de Funes Villalpondo was in fact appointed Governor of Cuba after the British occupation of Havana
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ambrosio_de_Funes_Villalpando
The last governor of Florida who oversaw the evacuation of Floridians after the territory was ceded to the British was Melchor Filiú.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melchor_Feli%C3%BA
I tinkered with the names a little. Neither man had a daughter, as far as I know. Valentina and Elena are figments of my imagination.
SPANISH MARINES
An elite branch of the Spanish navy, widely blamed for the fall of Havana to the British.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spanish_Navy_Marines
INQUISITION
The Spanish Inquisition lasted for several hundred years until its abolition in 1834. The article I’ve cited focuses on its attitude towards sodomy since that it what Santiago was accused of. It is unlikely a flight to Florida would have solved his problem since the Inquisition carried on its reign of terror in all the Spanish colonies.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spanish_Inquisition#Sodomy
CARLOS III
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_III_of_Spain
MACARONI
You may remember James Cagney’s Yankee Doodle, a song that originated about the time of the Seven Years War.
Yankee Doodle went to town
A-riding on a pony,
Stuck a feather in his cap
And called it macaroni.
There are excellent pictures here
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Macaroni_(fashion)
About the Author
I was born in England, but I’ve lived most of my life in Canada. Education, business and disaster relief provided three interesting and rewarding careers before I became a published writer. I have a keen interest in genealogy. This hobby has had a tremendous influence on my stories. My historical romances are tales of family honor, ancestry, and roots.
For me, novels are an escape into another world and time where I lose myself in the characters’ lives, confident they will triumph in the end and find love. I love ferreting out bits of historical trivia in order to provide the reader with an authentic experience.
I hope you come to know and love my cast of characters as much as I do.
Escape with me to where romance began and get intimate with history.
Visit my website at: http://www.annamarkland.com/
Also by Anna Markland
The Montbryce Legacy Anniversary Edition (2018)
I Conquest—Ram & Mabelle, Rhodri & Rhonwen
II Defiance—Hugh & Devona, Antoine & Sybilla
III Redemption—Caedmon & Agneta
IV Vengeance—Ronan & Rhoni
V Birthright—Adam & Rosamunda, Denis & Paulina
VI Star-Crossed— Robert & Dorianne, Baudoin & Carys
The Montbryce Legacy First Edition (2011-2014)
Conquering Passion—Ram & Mabelle, Rhodri & Rhonwen (audiobook available)
If Love Dares Enough—Hugh & Devona, Antoine & Sybilla
Defiant Passion-Rhodri & Rhonwen
A Man of Value—Caedmon & Agneta
Dark Irish Knight—Ronan & Rhoni
Haunted Knights—Adam & Rosamunda, Denis & Paulina
Passion in the Blood—Robert & Dorianne, Baudoin & Carys
Dark and Bright—Rhys & Annalise
The Winds of the Heavens—Rhun & Glain, Rhydderch & Isolda
Dance of Love—Izzy & Farah
Carried Away—Blythe & Dieter
Sweet Taste of Love—Aidan & Nolana
Wild Viking Princess—Ragna & Reider
Hearts and Crowns—Gallien & Peridotte
Fatal Truths—Alex & Elayne
Sinful Passions—Bronson & Grace; Rodrick & Swan
Series featuring the stories of the Viking ancestors of my Norman families
The Rover Bold—Bryk & Cathryn
The Rover Defiant—Torstein & Sonja
The Rover Betrayed—Magnus & Judith
Novellas
Maknab’s Revenge—Ingram & Ruby
Passion’s Fire—Matthew & Brigandine
Banished—Sigmar & Audra
Hungry Like De Wolfe—Blaise & Anne
Unkissable Knight—Dervenn & Victorine
Caledonia Chronicles (Scotland)
Book I Pride of the Clan—Rheade & Margaret
Book II H
ighland Tides—Braden & Charlotte
Book 2.5 Highland Dawn—Keith & Aurora
Book III Roses Among the Heather—Blair &Susanna, Craig & Timothea
The Von Wolfenberg Dynasty (medieval Europe)
Book 1 Loyal Heart—Sophia & Brandt
Book 2 Courageous Heart—Luther & Francesca
Book 3 Faithful Heart—Kon & Zara
Myth & Mystery
The Taking of Ireland —Sibràn & Aislinn
The Pendray Papers
Highland Betrayal—Morgan & Hannah (audiobook available)
Clash of the Tartans
Kilty Secrets—Ewan & Shona
Kilted at the Altar—Darroch & Isabel
Kilty Pleasures—Broderick & Kyla
Link to Amazon page
Coming soon: The Sword and the Spirit. (Ewan, Gabriel and Jacques in the Knights Templar series).
Excerpt from THE SEA DEVIL
by Eliza Knight
Enjoy this except from Book 3 in the Pirates of Britannia series…
CHAPTER ONE
Edinburgh, Scotland
1445
Though he wasn’t drunk, he was perfectly willing to let every other buffoon in the tavern believe it were so.
Thor, Captain of The Sea Devil, and longtime second-in-command to the Prince of the Devils of the Deep brethren, often played this game.
The thing was, when a dunce believed Thor to be deep in his cups, he often joined him, and when a man was liquored up, his tongue became loose as a tavern wench in need of coin. And that was how Thor often found out about treasure that needed saving, or heads that needed bashing. Verily, the usual squealers were the swain with enough ale or whisky in their bellies to widen their jaws and wag their tongues.
As it happened, right now, a very intriguing conversation was taking place a few tables away. Talk of pirates and gold—two things that were liable to interest anyone in the tavern, not just Thor.
Letting out a belch loud enough to shake the rafters, Thor tapped his mug on the table rather obnoxiously and shouted, “Another! And shome for my”—he waved his hands in the air and pretended to tip back on his chair, balancing mid-air before righting himself with a snort of fake laughter—“all my friendsh.”
The men in the tavern let out a loud round of whoops and hollers, clicking their mugs as the wenches scurried to fill them with ale up to the rims and collect the coin from Thor before he changed his mind. On the far side of the tavern, men broke out in song, boot heels tapping against the sagging wood of the floor. The torches danced precariously in place where they hung on the walls. One of the drunkards picked up a set of bagpipes and began to play a rather dismal and shameful rendition of a Highland ballad.
Well, that wouldn’t do. Thor charged across the tavern, making certain to bounce against a few backs, spilling his ale and appearing unstable as he made his way there.
“That ish not how ’tish done,” he slurred. “Let me show ye.”
“Ye?” the buffoon laughed. “Another round says ye fall on your arse when ye blow.”
Thor grinned. “And if I do, I’ll shtill keep on playing.” Lord, help him, but he hoped the men discussing gold and pirates fell for his act.
Thor grabbed the pipes, settled them against his shoulder, left hand holding the chanter, right hand on the bag. He blew into them, and the squealing sound that issued was enough to have the men falling over laughing. But once he had a handle on the pipes, he played a haunting melody he’d penned on the high seas. The men of the tavern couldn’t hear the words he’d created to go with the song. No one would ever hear them twice, for he changed them in his mind each time.
When he finished the song, he dutifully fell to his arse with a laugh, tossing the pipes back to their owner.
“Impressive, ye drunk bastard,” said the man as he caught the pipes.
“No matter how drunk, a man always knows how to play his pipes,” Thor said, bringing out a round of laughter from the men. “Drinks on my friend here!”
As the wenches moved to refill the cups, Thor climbed to his feet, glancing out the side of his eye toward the men he’d been spying on earlier. They were still there, still talking in hushed tones. They’d stopped while he played, mesmerized as everyone else was by Thor’s sea song.
He wagered the time to be nearing midnight, and most of the rapscallions in the place had been splashing ale and whisky down their throats for the better part of several hours.
Thor staggered around the tavern, pretending to drink his empty cup of ale and slapping random men on their backs. To keep his ruse going, he shared a juicy tidbit about a wench he’d bedded the day before—a total lie—but it drew him closer to the table huddled in the corner, which was what he wanted. Thor didn’t bed women simply to brag about it, but for some reason, bawdy jests and innuendo always seemed to open men up, and so he’d use that to his full advantage.
“Aye, he’ll be paying a hefty sum in gold,” said the man farthest at the table from Thor.
Thor listened to their conversation as he continued being rowdy with the men at the table beside them.
“How much?” one whispered.
“I heard tell it was an entire chest of gold. A king’s ransom.”
“For a wee bairn?”
A wee bairn… What in the bloody hell kind of treasure was that? What pirate wanted to deal with a child? Thor could barely stand the adolescent lad he’d helped his pirate prince Shaw “Savage” MacLeod rescue just a few months ago. The lad followed Thor around like a puppy. Well, until Thor snarled.
“Well, ’tis not a bairn no more,” they continued, and Thor let out a loud belch to his newfound friends, which inspired a round of who could belch the loudest.
“How old?” The men looked about, none of them seeing Thor’s side-eyed glance.
“He said twenty or so.”
What in Hades were they talking about? Thor resisted the urge to knock their heads together and insist they spit the information out faster.
“Lad or lass?”
“He’s not sure.”
“Ye mean to tell me, Santiago Fernandez put out the word that he’d pay a king’s ransom for a bastard he got on a Scots lass two decades ago, but he’s not certain if it be a lad or lass?”
Whoa now… Thor almost choked on his empty mug. Santiago… Had he heard that correctly?
“Aye. A Scots whore. Santiago’s got a bastard running around if ’tis still alive.”
An icy chill rushed through his veins at the mention of Santiago Fernandez.
Thor growled, letting out a low curse, which startled his new friends.
“I need more ale!” he shouted, pretending that was the reason for his outburst.
A wench was by his side in less than a second, filling his mug as she rubbed her ample bosom against the front of his shirt. He winked at her, made to reach for one of her breasts, but she playfully batted his hand away. The men at his table laughed, but Thor felt no humor. Rather, he was seething inside at what he was hearing.
Captain Santiago Fernandez was his mortal enemy. Hate didn’t even begin to explain how Thor felt about him. He loathed the man. And for good reason. The first time Thor ever laid eyes on him was when the Spanish pirate stood over the body of Thor’s mother, laughing. The bastard had killed her. Murdered her in cold blood and left her bloodied and battered body on display for everyone to see, including Thor when he was just a lad. Santiago was the reason Thor had become a pirate two decades before. Five years ago, he’d thought the day of reckoning was at hand, but the bastard leader of Los Demonios de Mar had outmaneuvered him, then captured and tortured him. But that didn’t mean Thor was going to give up. Their parting words all those years ago had been Thor’s vow to see Santiago dead.
“Where’d ye hear it?” one of the scheming swain asked.
“From one of his crew. They were bragging about how they’d be the first to find Santiago’s offspring.” He leaned closer. “So I shanked him.”
A pl
an started to formulate in Thor’s mind. A crazy idea.
If these men were willing to kill for the information, the promise of a king’s ransom had to be accurate. Why else would they gut each other for it? Aye, they were all a bunch of scoundrels, but they didn’t kill just to kill, not without cause.
How many years had Thor waited to exact his revenge on the bastard? Was it just coincidence that the perfect opportunity had just presented itself? Or was it fate?
Thor didn’t believe in fate. Nor did he believe in coincidences. But he did believe in luck, and today was turning out to be his lucky day.
A slow grin covered his face, and he pretended to throw back another swig from his empty cup—the contents of which he’d surreptitiously poured into each man’s cup as he clinked mugs with them. He tossed the barkeep a sack full of coins, which he always did to maintain the secrecy of his identity, then waited outside the tavern until the three men who’d been whispering about Santiago’s bairn stepped through the door.
Thor wasn’t a small man. Even as child of ten, he’d been taller than most men in his mother’s clan. She was a MacLeod, and after his bastard Viking father left his mother to the care of her family, Thor had repudiated any connection to the whoreson—but he couldn’t deny it when he glanced at his reflection. For a long time, he’d shaved the wheat-colored hair from his head, only recently growing it out because he realized how much more savage it made him appear. Being a pirate was all about appearances. The only physical trait he’d inherited from his mother was her blue eyes. Thank God for that, because it meant when he did peer at his likeness, he could still make eye contact with himself, for he saw her instead of his traitorous father.
The Marauder (Pirates of Britannia Book 11) Page 16
