Inside the cabin, the countess and the chaplain continued reciting the rosary without pause. Then, from behind the folding screen, the marchioness appeared—dressed in a military uniform: a jacket, breeches, and buckled shoes, a tricorn hat on her head, and a sword hanging from her belt.
"Your Excellency… what do you think you're doing dressed like a man?" asked Father Diego, confused.
"What does it look like, Father Diego? I'm preparing for battle," replied the young noblewoman.
"Doña Margarita, please reconsider! The danger is real!" the chaplain pleaded.
"Danger? What's the point of life without challenges?" Margarita replied as she adjusted the sword on her belt.
"But you are the viceroy's daughter, not a soldier!" the countess cried, stepping in her way. "Over my dead body will you leave this cabin!"
The chaplain positioned himself in front of the door to block her.
"One goes to battle with pride, not fear. Now stand aside—or I'll be the one you'll face," Margarita said, placing her hand on her sword hilt.
The young woman walked out with a firm step and headed toward the deck, passing by the notary's cabin. The man peeked out like a trembling mouse. Seeing her dressed as a soldier, sword and all, he stuck his head out in bewilderment, then glanced toward where the countess and the chaplain stood watching her leave. With a look, he asked the question. The others responded with a shrug.
"The viceroy's not going to like this," he muttered fearfully, then slammed his door shut.
Meanwhile, the defenders of the sterncastle were under crossfire. They were being hit by musket fire from above, until the Gárnor began sending return volleys to distract their attackers.
Then Margarita stepped out from the sterncastle. The scene was Dantesque—smoke from the explosions, screams, the burning sails collapsing, the shadows of combatants, and, above all, chaos: attackers and defenders yelling, cannon blasts echoing.
The marchioness took a deep breath, inhaled the smoke-laden air with delight, and smiled. She drew her sword and walked into the fray, choosing as her opponent a young man—Cody—who was barely holding his own against several sailors, serving mainly as a distraction so another pirate could take care of his target.
To the noblewoman's mind, he seemed a good warm-up opponent. With a single stroke, she launched herself at him. Cody received the attack and tried to parry the blows, but he couldn't match her precision. Her movements were almost mathematical. Margarita wounded him in the shoulder and was preparing to finish him off before moving on to the next defender.
That was when Sammy, fighting nearby and having just downed an enemy, intervened to help Cody. The two women crossed blades, moving across the deck, pushing aside both pirates and Spaniards. But as the identity of the Spanish officer became clear, the situation began to shift. Mr. Worthy was fighting the marchioness.
The two young women became locked in a fierce duel. It practically seemed as if the fate of the sterncastle would be decided by that singular clash.
The admiral, who was at the top of the sterncastle with sword in hand, was urging his men to keep fighting—it appeared the Spanish were winning—when his aide ran up with shocking news.
"Sir! The one fighting the pirates at the base of the sterncastle... is the marchioness!"
"Bloody hell!" the admiral muttered through clenched teeth. "Then kill the scoundrel she's fighting."
"Everyone's afraid of fatally wounding the marchioness!"
Enraged, the admiral loaded his heavy pistol and took aim directly at Sammy. He was just about to pull the trigger when, from the side, Captain Skippy burst in, struck the weapon from his hand, and shouted:
"Only cowards strike from behind!"
Meanwhile, the pirates had climbed skillfully up the ornate carvings and shields of the galleon to reach the upper structure of the sterncastle, catching the officers by surprise as they remained focused on the deck battle. Thus, they managed to catch the admiral off guard and stop the fatal shot aimed at Sammy.
The admiral, recovering from the shock, drew his sword and lunged at Captain Skippy. At the same time, several officers followed suit, engaging the pirates in close combat.
The command bridge was also under attack. One of the pirates knocked out the helmsman with a blow to the head and turned the wheel, steering the galleon toward the Gárnor, leaving it vulnerable to crossfire.
Meanwhile, Sammy had managed to corner Margarita. With a swift cut, she slashed her cheek, disarmed her, and pointed her sword straight at her heart.
"They've got the marchioness!" Luis Carlos cried in despair.
The admiral, seeing the scene unfold, shouted:
"I demand the marchioness's life be spared!"
"Accept our terms," Skippy said, keeping his guard up.
"Absolutely not!"
Luis Carlos stepped closer to the admiral and whispered in his ear, "We have no choice, sir."
"We can fight to the end," the captain of the Santa Carmen interjected.
A tense silence fell over them.
"Hey!" the marchioness shouted. "May I remind you that I am the viceroy's daughter, and this bastard's got a sword to my chest."
The admiral narrowed his eyes. After a moment of hesitation, he relented. He ordered a ceasefire and agreed to transfer the cargo to the pirate ship.
With calculated dignity, he straightened his back, placed the scabbard of his sword across his left forearm in a sign of surrender, and gave a brief bow, which Skippy returned without mockery. The Gárnor's boatswain quickly climbed aboard, took the admiral's sword, and the admiral was escorted to the deck.
There, officers, sailors, soldiers, and noble passengers—such as the countess, the chaplain, and the notary—were gathered under pirate guard, weapons pointed at them: cutlasses, muskets, and pistols. Seeing the marchioness still standing, a sword to her chest, the countess let out a bloodcurdling cry.
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Don't hurt my marchioness... Holy Mother of Help, save us!"
"Shut it, fat lady, and get with the group," snapped the pirate escorting them.
The Spanish sailors were forced to unload the cargo and heave the starboard cannons into the sea. Once the operation was complete, all the pirates returned to the Gárnor, and Sammy withdrew her sword from the marchioness's chest and returned to the ship.
From the Gárnor's sterncastle, the captain picked up the megaphone.
"Well, gentlemen, thank you for your cooperation. Until next time!"
The admiral and his officers climbed up to the sterncastle and watched as the pirate ship raised its sails. Then Margarita pushed her way to the rail.
"We will meet again—and I'll show no mercy! I never forget a face, especially not a blue-eyed mulatto's," she declared.
"I'll be sitting down—so I don't get tired waiting!" Sammy replied with a mocking smile.
The pirate crew burst into laughter, waving and jeering as they departed.
The admiral fumed—but not as much as the marchioness.
"Now I understand why they say it's bad luck to bring women aboard," the captain muttered.
"Captain, make a report of the damages and an inventory of what was stolen," the admiral said as he descended the stairs. Around them, the wounded were being tended, and fires extinguished. Luis Carlos took notes and glanced at the marchioness, who was being treated by the surgeon while the countess scolded her and the chaplain comforted her. The girl returned the admiral's gaze in silence.
"Luis Carlos," the admiral said, "once we reach Havana, send an urgent courier to Mexico City. Inform the viceroy of what happened—and why we surrendered."
With that, he withdrew with his officers into the stern cabin.