Page 119 of Rears & Vices

“Yes. Now they cannot but recognise her sovereignty,” Alarie relished. “In fact, I hope to hear from Washington by the end of the year.”

Everard thought that unlikely, and not only because it was nearly December. If all of Haïti’s might and beauty, their constitution and government and ideals, could not convince America to recognise her, what hope had tiny Galveztown, taken over by a disgraced white Frenchman with misplaced priorities?

“Is that not the Mexican flag flown outside?” Everard said pointedly. “The blue-and-white checkerboard?”

Power, position, glory, money. He saw it now. The man wanted all of it. He wanted to be a king.

“Of course,” Alarie said, without a blink. “Sovereignty for México.”

“Very good,” Everard said; and then he saw his opening.

Practice. Maybe this was a step down the ladder from the careful, deliberate impression Vitaliy made on the world around him—several steps, even—but maybe he could also still salvage something from this.

“Surely American recognition will mean we must comply with the Act?” Everard asked.

Would it be so easy? As easy as insisting to Alarie that as his admiral, Everard would oversee no human transport, would issue no marques to slavers, would use his full authority to persecute those not in compliance with the anti-slave trade laws?

If V. Varfolomey himself could not consistently ensure such a thing from an ally, how could Everard ensure it of his direct superior? He had no true leverage but to walk away.

But Alarie was desperate, and thought of Everard as a path to the most powerful pirate in the Gulf.

“Oh, of course we will,” Alarie said, offhand, as though it were nothing to go in either direction. “And have not I been doing so?” he challenged.

Everard gave him a steady, uncowed look. There was no possible way Alarie wasn’t aware that Vitaliy knew what he’d been up to in his incarcerated absence. Vitaliy hadn’t said exactly what for he’d fallen out with Alarie, but Everard knew it must have been something along the lines of violation of man’s basic rights.

“Well, henceforth, we shall,” Alarie went on, unperturbed and unashamed. “Neither I nor Mina could not get Haitian assistance without that assurance in writing, in any case; Pétion was adamant on liberation. As is right!” he added hastily.

Everard said nothing. He had already heard it’d been a crew of restless, slighted Haitians that had sent Alarie into his current convalescence; they’d become frustrated at Alarie’s unfulfilled promises of corsairs and riches, had converged upon him and shot him—twice—then fled back home, taking three ships in the process.

Had he been here then, as admiral, Everard would’ve turned a blind eye and let them go right on by. A promise was a promise.

“When a gentleman gives his word, in trust and confidence,” he said carefully, “there is no reason for assurance in writing.”

A ridiculous statement; one always got things in writing. But as Alarie sat silent for a moment, blank-faced, shocked, Everard knew his meaning to have been perfectly understood.

“Precisely!” Alarie said, at last. “We are in agreement, de Anglada. Given recognition, we will comply with the laws. In the meantime, customs in New Orleans is quite amenable⁠—”

“No,” Everard said firmly. “Henceforth.”

Alarie frowned. “The privateers…”

“I understand,” Everard said, “that you wish me to condemn as prizes those vessels the fleet will bring into port, Governor.”

Alarie’s nostrils flared.

Beneath Everard’s words floated this: If you want any prizes able to come in at all…

He didn’t think Vitaliy would use the Sévère to exert force in that manner, but Alarie didn’t know that. Maybe even feared that.

“You understand correctly, Admiral de Anglada.” Alarie’s gaze narrowed, dark and shrewd. “Indeed. Henceforth, then.” He raised an eyebrow. “You know, I had thought you a bit of a different beast than our lion Vee. Despite your being his… mm, partner. But now I think your mint is just the same.”

Everard said nothing.

It was plainly untrue, and thus simple flattery, no more.

“This is a good thing,” Alarie emphasised, doubling down. “A good thing for me, and an excellent thing for Galveztown herself.”

Everard closed his eyes. “Surely, Governor.”