Chapter 1414 - The Parian

"No, the Chinese are very timid," Vince said, slowly sipping his wine. This party was making him feel incredibly awkward; fortunately, there was still the cool, refreshing sherry that had been chilled in well water. "And for half a piastre, the innkeeper will have his two sons stand guard at my door with spears all day."

"The Lord of Kelantan hires a Chinese honor guard for half a piastre—" The speaker sat at the far end of the table. He looked about fifty, with a hooked nose and high cheekbones, above which were a pair of fierce eyes. A few strands of hair on the back of his protruding skull were slicked down with oil and gleamed neatly, though his head gave off a stench of rancid butter. The mayor glared at him with some annoyance but noticed that the Count was still calmly sipping his sherry, as if he had not heard the rude remark at all.

"Your Lordship the Count, perhaps you have been overly generous with the Chinese," said Colonial Treasurer Sebastián Andrade. "Half a piastre is enough for a Tagalog with a family for four days' expenses."

He began to enumerate how wealthy the Chinese in the Philippines were, yet whenever the Governor tried to collect special residence fees in exchange for the right to live outside the Parian, they endlessly delayed and pleaded poverty. The sins of the Chinese also included corrupting the devout native inhabitants with the vice of gambling. Governor Salamanca had actually agreed to let the Chinese establish cockfighting arenas in Tondo and Binondo. Although these two arenas paid eighty thousand pesos a year in gambling taxes to the colonial government, heaven only knew how much money had already flowed into Chinese hands.

Andrade rattled off a long list of figures, pointing out that more and more Chinese merchant ships were entering Manila harbor each year, yet thanks to the combined efforts of Chinese brokers and the port customs officer, the Royal Colony's treasury had not seen much increase in revenue—because the figures in the submitted reports remained the same few ships. The rest—even though they were anchored right there in the harbor—had simply vanished from the records.

Everyone discussed just how much the Governor and his cronies must have received from this blatant fraud to turn a blind eye to such glaring discrepancies. Of course, such discussions could only be conducted behind closed doors, in whispers among trusted friends.

Clearly, His Excellency the Governor had his own worries. He spent his days living in fear of a nonexistent threat—that Dutch forces, together with all the pirates of the East Indies, would invade Manila. He had already spent three hundred thousand pesos on expanding fortifications and recruiting troops, and was prepared to spend even more. His reports to His Majesty and the Privy Council were always filled with desperate appeals, as if he were eking out an existence in a besieged fortress.

Now his fearful fantasies had a new addition: the Australians. The Spaniards had learned from Macao that the Australians had concluded a trade agreement with those detestable Lowland brigands. Not only that, they had simply launched detestable pirate operations. Last year—1632—two galleons from New Spain, carrying the Royal subsidy, had been seized by Australian pirates not far from Manila.

This news had immediately caused a small earthquake in the city. The hijacking of the San Luis and the San Raimundo was not simply a matter of the Governor losing two hundred thirty thousand pesos of Royal subsidy money. The ships had also been carrying large amounts of cargo and cash from New Spain—both legitimate and illegitimate—involving nearly every grandee in Manila. As a result, just how much loss the seizure of the two ships had caused remained a mystery.

Not long after definite news of the seizure emerged, several major merchants in Manila declared bankruptcy, followed by a large number of small and medium merchants. The money supply in Manila and throughout the Philippines tightened considerably; interest rates shot up, and the discount rate on bills of exchange rose to unbearable levels. As a result, the Chinese moneylenders in the Parian made a small fortune.

"The Australians were originally very peaceful. They did profitable business with the Portuguese, selling many wonderful goods—" Andrade seemed somewhat regretful. "They say there are quite a few believers among them, and the Jesuits have great influence there. Unfortunately, after they got mixed up with the Lowland brigands, they became base and vile! Thankfully, they're still buying abaca!"

Andrade had a large abaca export business in Manila, earning tens of thousands of pesos a year from it. The Australians were the biggest buyers.

"They're all a bunch of godless atheists who deserve the stake!" Someone's religious fervor began to erupt after the ingestion of large quantities of alcohol.

...

Vince slowly sipped his sherry without joining in. He noted down these valuable pieces of information and figures, mentally drafting how his first report back to Lingao should be written. Servants brought out after-dinner sweets and cigars.

"There, Count," Andrade leaned toward a candelabra and lit a cigar. He continued: "Laid out before you is the most worthwhile investment in the entire Philippine colony. The tobacco here is in no way inferior to the products of the best plantations in Cuba and Mexico. But private individuals now have no hope of profiting from it."

He spoke of how the Governor had ordered a monopoly on tobacco throughout the colony and was establishing a monopoly cigarette factory. "This will add at least forty thousand pesos to the Governor's annual revenue," he said. "The Governor will hand this large sum over to that miraculous Japanese fellow, to have him manufacture cannons with a range of one league, and shells that can sink a ship with a single hit. Each of these remarkable shells costs five hundred pesos."

The treasurer's words set off a clamor of discussion at the banquet. "Pure nonsense!" shouted a judge of the Royal Audiencia of the Philippines. "Having to pay a monopoly tax even to grow a little tobacco for one's own enjoyment in one's own yard—doesn't Salamanca know he has no authority to impose new taxes? Has that fool not read the Royal decrees?"

"Complete rubbish," said the Commander of Fort Santiago, who had been pouring glass after glass of wine into his mouth after his hearty meal. His speech was slurred. "Gentlemen, has any of you heard of or personally seen a cannon with a range of one league? Complete rubbish."

"How ignorant you are, dear Echázu," said a shrewd-looking officer, the commander of Cavite Fortress. "In the time of Louis XI, the French fired a cannon at the Bastille—the place where they lock up sane people for being mad—and the cannonball flew all the way to Charenton before it landed—the place where they lock up madmen for being sane. You should be familiar with that place, dear Echázu."

"Hey, Alfonso—" The angry old colonel snorted, his breath reeking of wine, and pointed a threatening finger at his colleague across the table.

"Let's not talk about cannons and bombs anymore," the mayor stepped in to smooth things over. "Without cannons, the brave knights of the King can still defeat the heathens and Calvinists. The grace and glory of God belong forever to the great Catholic King!"

There was a crash of clinking porcelain and silver cups, accompanied by wild shouts of "Long live the King!" and "Long live Manila!" Fireworks began to go off on the lawn, and the party's atmosphere reached its peak.

The Parian—this Chinese quarter outside Manila's walls—became pitch dark and silent as soon as night fell. The former mercenary jumped down from his horse and let Shrek lead it back to the inn's stable. The inn was a two-story tile-roofed wooden building. He climbed the creaking stairs. The innkeeper's two young sons had their sharpened bamboo spears laid across their laps and were sleeping soundly against the staircase until the sound of footsteps woke them, and they hurriedly stood up. Vince waved them off.

Vince Lando had taken over the entire second floor of the inn, though he occupied only the largest guest room. He knocked on the door: "Open up, Mimi. It's Count Fananovoua."

The bolt behind the door clicked several times, and he pushed it open and walked in. There was no light in the room. Moonlight streaming through a corridor window clearly illuminated the features of whoever entered. Vince knew that if a stranger rather than he had been standing at the door, they would most likely have been greeted immediately by 9mm bullets.

The half-lit coconut-oil lamp was lit. Mimi ran about the room fetching towels and drawing wash water. Lucia—or Mimi, as Vince called this maid—was petite and dark-skinned, and looked no different from an ordinary agent of the "Fifth Division"—Vince's private term for the Political Security Bureau. He was well aware that "the Center" had transferred her over and assigned her to his side as personal maid and assistant, with an unspoken task of keeping him under surveillance. The weapon issued to her was a Zastava CZ99 automatic pistol, not one of the black-powder revolvers Lingao manufactured. Thinking that one day he might have his skull blown out by a weapon he himself had brought to this world, Vince could only shrug.

"Any news from the docks?" The fake count stripped off that gaudy outfit piece by piece. All the clothes were soaked through with sweat and reeked. Right now, all he wanted was a good bath. Unfortunately, there was no bathroom equipment here; to bathe, one could only go to the inn's courtyard and use a wooden bucket to draw water from the well.

"Including the one that came into port today, there are twenty-one Chinese ships and one Portuguese ship." Thanks to Salina and Miss Mendoza, Mimi's English was excellent, and her Spanish passable as well. "Two of the Chinese ships will sail to Guangzhou and Hong Kong. The rest are all Fujian ships."

"Going to Hong Kong? That's excellent. Tomorrow let's see if we can get it to carry some cargo back. I really can't stand this hellish light. Mimi, go light some candles. Tonight I must finish my report to Jiang. We need to set up an intelligence station here. We can't go on without even a radio."