Chapter 224: Isabella The Troublemaker

Carlos asked curiously, “Do you already have an idea of how we can do it? The slave traders are not idiots. If you send them specifically for firebricks, they will understand they are important. No one imports ordinary bricks from Europe to New Granada.”

Krugger chuckled.

“I know. We will disguise them as Dutch klinkers — a luxury material in Europe. The idea is to make the slavers believe you are indulging yourself. We will spread the story that you are building a new mansion now that the region is under your control.”

He folded his hands behind his back.

“It would not seem unusual for a man in your position to become… extravagant. A few shipments of fine materials would support the illusion. In exchange, we would also purchase Carrara marble slabs from Italy — perhaps even a Bohemian crystal chandelier. My contact in the Netherlands is willing to register the bricks under his name if we buy some of his Delft blue tiles.”

Carlos felt a headache forming.

“No, we cannot do that, Krugger. My finances are already stretched thin. I was counting on the steel mill Ogundele is building to increase our income. Until it is operational, I do not have a single coin to spare.”

Krugger smiled calmly.

“Ask Francisco. I hear his relationship with Göttingen is strong at the moment. They may be willing to assist. In his last letter, he mentioned working on something called an optical telegraph. He read about its presentation in Paris and became interested. It seems he wants to impress the Privy Council.”

He paused thoughtfully.

“With France in its current state, rapid communication is a weapon. He intends to solve one of the main strategic problems — preventing enemies from receiving information before your own troops do — before sending a prototype to the council.”

Carlos exhaled, slightly relieved.

“If that boy can finance it, then I will gladly play the spendthrift. Send the letter.”

He straightened his coat.

“In the meantime, I need to speak with Ogundele and the members of the cabildos from the territories under our influence. I have received unpleasant news.”

He moved toward the door. Krugger followed immediately.

“What happened?” Krugger asked. “You look troubled.”

Carlos hesitated before answering.

“It seems the British are escalating. They have imposed a trade embargo in the United States, claiming it is to prevent resources from reaching France. But now they threaten to extend the embargo across all the Americas. They consider the Spanish colonies vulnerable and fear we might sell supplies to France as well.”

Krugger sneered.

“As if we have anything significant to sell directly to France. Most of our resources go straight to Spain. Whatever reaches France travels through smugglers or slave traders — and I assure you, the British would never interfere with those networks. They profit from them as well.”

Carlos shrugged as they approached the conference room, where representatives from cities and towns under Francisco’s influence had gathered.

Before entering, he turned to Krugger.

“I need you to intensify the army’s training. We may need to expand toward Bogotá. There is considerable talent in the capital, and many are not particularly loyal to the Spanish government. From Rionegro, we can move through Honda easily. From there, Bogotá becomes accessible.”

He placed his hand on the door.

“The next phase will not be military alone.”

Krugger nodded, then couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You are doing it for that girl, Amelia, aren’t you?”

Carlos looked slightly surprised. “You knew?”

“I suspected,” Krugger replied with a sigh. “And I am fairly certain Isabella knows as well. She is too focused on her training with me to dwell on it — and she may be mature enough to understand that her father deserves some measure of happiness.”

Carlos nodded solemnly. With a hint of guilt in his voice, he asked, “Do you think… I should speak with her?”

Krugger shrugged.

“I do not know. But I will say this — your children are remarkably sensible. Mature beyond their years, especially considering how they were raised.”

He folded his arms thoughtfully.

“I have known many scions in Prussia — sons of aristocrats and high nobility. None of them showed the discipline or clarity your children possess. Your son and daughter behave more like commoners in Prussia — taking responsibility for their lives after fourteen, working for their place in the world.”

He looked directly at Carlos.

“And from what I have seen, they respect you with all their hearts.”

Carlos hesitated, about to respond, when a secretary entered.

“Señor Carlos, the representatives have gathered. We may begin whenever you are ready.”

Carlos exhaled softly.

“We will speak of this later,” he told Krugger. “For now, focus on strengthening the troops. Expansion may become inevitable. I have received reports that many in Bogotá are restless about the situation in New Granada. I fear the intellectuals may clash with the Spanish garrison and end up dead.”

He paused.

“We cannot afford to lose talent. Not now.”

Krugger nodded and departed toward the training grounds.

Since arriving in New Granada — aided by Catalina’s rigorous conditioning methods — it had become easier to discipline both the local recruits and his Prussian veterans into a cohesive force. Still, jungle warfare remained a serious weakness.

The terrain was unforgiving.

Engagements against indigenous groups were unpredictable — especially the Nutabe, who from time to time had disrupted supply lines. It was said that the Nutabe had once lived near a small settlement called San Jerónimo, but during the fanatics’ invasion toward Medellín they were massacred — or at least that was what the reports claimed.

Krugger rubbed his temples, thinking about the complexity of jungle combat.

His thoughts drifted to the Bari — the group that protects Carlos in the shadows. If he could persuade them to share even limited knowledge of movement and survival in the forests, the army’s jungle capabilities could improve significantly.

Then there was San Andrés where the bulk of his troops reside.

Reports mentioned over a hundred deaths from a strange illness. The island, lacking proper medical support, had seen almost none of the infected soldiers survive. Without doctors, disease spread faster than discipline.

Krugger knew he needed to relocate them to the mainland as soon as possible. At the same time, eighteen hundred soldiers would be ideal if they intended to expand further.

At least in Medellín, he could gather physicians to assist the troops.

The war for territory was one thing.

The war for stability was another entirely.

Krugger stepped out of the mansion — the administrative center of Carlos’ territory — mounted his horse, and rode toward the military camp to inspect the training.

Medellín displayed two clear contrasts: elegant yet simple colonial houses, and newly built two-story concrete structures that looked crude in comparison. Francisco’s Roman cement was slowly becoming common in the region. Though still expensive, its quick-drying properties made it ideal for shops, warehouses, and commercial buildings.

Krugger shook his head slightly at the sight and rode out of the city. After some time, he reached the camp.

One attendant hurried toward him and bowed respectfully.

“Sir, I’m glad you’ve come. We are having… a small problem with your granddaughter.”

Krugger frowned immediately.

“What happened? Is she refusing to follow training? I ordered you to treat her like any other soldier. If she is being lazy, send her back to Medellín.”

The attendant shook his head, visibly uneasy. If they truly treated her like a normal recruit and she so much as shed a tear, Krugger would likely execute someone for it. But that was not the issue.

“No, sir. It’s not that. The young lady is… extremely fierce. She has already caused at least half the officers to lose face. And because she is your granddaughter, they can do little more than endure it.”

Krugger blinked, startled.

“What do you mean?”

The attendant explained.

During recruit training, officers often provoked newcomers — demonstrating the difference between seasoned soldiers and raw recruits. Naturally, none of them wished to challenge Isabella. Losing to a twelve-year-old girl would humiliate them; defeating her would look like bullying.

But Isabella had not tolerated their behavior.

Instead, she openly challenged the officers herself. When none accepted, she began calling them cowards in front of the soldiers, accusing them of hiding behind rank.

Krugger felt a headache forming.

“Very well,” he muttered. “Leave her to me. I will duel her myself. Gather all the soldiers. If she wants a lesson, she will receive one — and so will the officers.”

The attendant relaxed and moved quickly to spread the word. Krugger handling the situation was the safest solution. If he defeated her, it would appear as a grandfather instructing his granddaughter — not a veteran humiliating a child.

oon, a circle formed in the camp. Soldiers eagerly cleared space for the swordsmanship duel. In truth, most were more interested in witnessing Krugger’s instruction than in the duel itself. Few took the girl seriously.

Even in New Granada — where women occasionally took up arms to defend their towns or homes — a young girl raised within an elite household was viewed with quiet contempt. To many, she was little more than a pampered child playing at war.

Isabella ignored the whispers.

She stood ready, eyes bright with anticipation. She was tired of being treated like a fragile princess who must not be touched. She wanted a real fight — and Krugger, her grandfather, would not hold back. If only to preserve the officers’ prestige, he would fight seriously enough to make his point.

At last, she would face someone worthy.

At last, she would have a true duel.

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