This is changing a bit in scope from before.
The Ranger leaned forward. “So that’s why we wanna lay him out. Why do you?”
“Because he is, as you say, a good fighter. When the king summoned him and his cavalry for the last of our border wars, he gave us no end of trouble.” Nacho stirred the fire, a scowl on his face. “Hampton has a head for war. If he had been given enough men and horses, he might have even threatened the capital. And he will be one of the claimants for the throne, perhaps even the strongest.”
“I’d imagine Prince Robert might think otherwise,” observed Bailey. “Sure, he’s no cavalier–” Bailey used the Royalist term for their high-born with scorn “–but he’s got his hands on the gold and silver, and that’s what matters, hey?”
“True,” admitted Nacho. “But even if Hampton decides not to try for the throne himself, his price for supporting the Prince will be a high one. But the Prince would be willing to pay it.”
“By having him take another slap at Mexico, you mean.” Nacho nodded at the not-question. “Only with enough troops to conquer you, even if he has to get ‘em from Durango and Sonora. Maybe even a crown of his very own, afterward.” Bailey peered at Nacho. “I don’t see them whupping you, though. There’d be a hell of a fight, but you’d see them off.”
“Yes. And how many times can we do that, before we are bled white? They will throw their slaves against our soldiers, and each one of us they kill is another that cannot fight them tomorrow, or in a month, or in a year. We need more time, Senor Bailey. More time to arm our men, and make ready for war. And when they do come, it will be without one of their best generals leading the way.”