"Haaha! San Juan Harbor—we're finally back! This time we made another small fortune and snatched plenty of pearls! Too bad we still didn't find any gold..."
"The Lord protects! We wiped out a big native village and captured three or four hundred able-bodied men, and more than two hundred women! Now we've got quite a few more slaves who can work!"
"Exactly. We'd been holding in a bellyful of foul air, and we finally got to vent it properly in that native village! Tsk, tsk! These native women are tall and full-bodied. Compared to Iberian women, they're so much more fun to play with!"
"Heh! The Lord as my witness, with that penniless, desperate look of yours, back on the peninsula you'd only be able to sleep with those wandering old whores in their forties! You wouldn't even get a turn with a Gypsy woman..."
Amid the sailors' shouting and cheering, the expeditionary fleet that had gone to Eastern Haiti finally entered San Juan Bay and moored at the crudest wooden pier. Yet when they saw clearly what had happened to Fort Queen Isabella, they all looked at one another, and the cheering came to an abrupt stop.
"Holy Mother! What happened here? How did the small half of the village to the south all get burned down?"
"Look east! East of Cross Church was burned down too!"
"Ah? Why are there so many native corpses? Hanging from the trees on both sides? Did the natives rebel?"
"Something's wrong! Those cowardly Taino Natives don't even know how to hold weapons. How could they have caused losses this big?"
"Merciful Holy Mother! Look! Behind the church, there's a huge new cemetery! A whole stretch of it!"
"Hiss! The size of this cemetery... just how many people died?"
On the Caravel flagship,