Infinite Devotion (24 page)

“No, we’ll wait,” I say, sitting as Andres follows me.

“You’d be crazy to stay with me!” He runs his hand through his thick hair. “I wouldn’t do the same for you, you know. This may be your only chance to go home. Run, now!”

But I didn’t go. Not only did I feel sorry leaving him alone, I had a strong feeling that staying with him was key for my survival‌—‌some vague remembrance from my dream.

He sighs. “And I thought you two had brains.”

Every time we get back up, he walks more slowly. Finally, we reach the top of a large hill and see the ocean in front of us. There she is, a beautiful galleon shining in the diamond water. Andres and I start screaming with joy.

“We made it! Captain, we made it!”

Bella barks at our joy.

The captain hobbles up and sees the ship bobbing there, in disbelief. At first he looks happy, but then he squints.

“What do you see there in the water, boys?”

I squint. “A rowboat?”

“With people in it,” Andres adds.

“The boat’s heading for the ship, right?”

“Yes,” we both answer at the same time.

He drops his shoulders and slumps against a large rock.

“What are you doing? We have to go down and wait for them to come back!” I say, waving toward the beach.

“Look!” He points. “They’re already bringing the anchor in.”

I put my hand up to shield the sun from my eyes and see he’s right; they are pulling anchor. My heart sinks.

Chapter 14

“I told you boys not to wait for me,” the captain says, rubbing his leg.

“Pepe…” Andres shakes his head sadly, looking at the figures on the small boat getting pulled up.

“He didn’t even say good-bye to us.” I wonder if I can pick out his shape from here.

Andres bends down and pats Bella. “Well, at least we still have you.”

But something makes her freeze, and she turns one ear toward the beach and stops breathing so she can hear better. I don’t hear a thing, but she takes off running toward the beach. We watch from above as she makes her way through the reeds and rushes, and both of us gasp as she runs to a dark shape on the beach. Andres and I take off running too, and our hearts leap to see Alvaro sitting there on the sand, watching the ship set sail. Another familiar voice comes out from the underbrush behind us as Pepe walks out, batting away the branches from his face, spitting out the imaginary leaves from his paranoid mouth.

“Those berries pretty much come out the same way they looked when they went in,” he says, walking toward us.

“We thought you left!” I say, trying to catch my breath.

“Almost did,” Alvaro says flatly without looking at us, eyes fixed on the ship.

“We thought we could tell them to wait for you, but they said they risked their lives every hour they waited.” Pepe ties up his pants.

“Carlos and the others?” Andres asks.

“Yeah,” Pepe answers.

I realize Pepe has pants. “Where did you get pants!”

He laughs. “They gave me some when they saw my skirt.”

“You couldn’t have asked for some extra pairs!” Andres yells.

Pepe laughs harder. “Alvaro remembered. He got a pair for each of you.”

Alvaro throws two pairs at us without speaking and walks past us, back up the ridge. Andres and I quickly rip off our ferns, throw on the stiff pants, and follow, hoping Alvaro wasn’t going to make the captain feel like this is his fault.

As soon as the captain sees him, he says, “You’re a fool, Alvaro.”

However, Alvaro throws him a pair of pants. “What kind of a first mate would I be if I left my captain behind?”

Pepe, Andres, and I all smile like three children relieved that their parents quit quarreling.

We walk north of the mountains for as long as the light lasts, and we have to sleep in the moss under some giant rocks overnight. We sleep much closer to each other than normal that night due to the cold and strange surroundings. In the darkest part of night, we hear howling and yelps somewhere very near.

The captain rubs his eyes quickly. “I think it’s best we sleep in shifts. Make sure those wolves find something else to eat tonight.”

He never wakes anyone else up, though; he takes the whole watch.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

In the morning, we start up the side of the mountain through the cotton fog that creeps up and over the peaks along with us. Many hours pass as we make our way over. Once at the top, we look down the beautiful valley that rolls to a shiny lake and then keeps rolling out to the blue-blue of the sea on the horizon. In the middle of the lake stands a mythical castle with five towers making up a circle. It’s majestic and appears to grow right out of the water.

The captain puts his arms out wide, with his head up to the heavens, and says, “The Castle of Rossclogher!”

As we make our way down, I keep wondering how it is possible that anyone could have built anything in the middle of a lake, and come to the conclusion that these people must be magical.

“How are we going to get to the castle?” Andres asks as he slips on a rock and slides a bit down the dirt path. Pepe scoffs.

“Will they send a boat for us?” Alvaro asks, uncertain.

“We better not be swimming out there,” Andres worries.

The captain squints and scans the surroundings. “I’m sure once we get there, we’ll find a way.”

Which only worries us more.

All except Pepe, who rubs his stomach. “I’m starving.”

“We’re out of the oaten bread Carra gave us, so you’ll have to wait.” The captain pushes him ahead.

We reach a wider path of small stones that leads to different pastures of grazing cattle.

“These must belong to the castle. There should be a herder or milk maiden nearby.” The captain slowly turns around, searching for signs of life.

Andres screams, “I see a girl‌—‌there!”

We all turn, but the volume of Andres’s sighting sends the girl running, and she disappears behind the hill.

“Good job, Andres,” Alvaro says low.

The captain sighs. “Well, it’s a good time to rest, then, and we’ll wait for someone to see us.”

“I just hope it’s not the English that do.” Alvaro lies down on a grassy spot and closes his eyes. We decide to do the same.

I don’t know how much time passes, but I open my eyes to six shadows looming over us, and we jump at the stealthy intrusion. Alvaro gets to his feet, but one of them lays a spear right next to his neck. The captain immediately speaks in Latin. The largest man replies in the same language and only after a few exchanges, the man slaps the back of the captain as he helps him up, knocking him off balance on his good leg.

The captain turns to us as the savages walk away. “That’s MacClancy, the large one. He’s O’Rourke’s subject and immediately welcomed us to his castle, where he says other Spaniards are presently harbored.”

We all smile at the idea of a safe heaven, such as this well-fortified castle in front of us. But we start walking away from the lake and back up one of the hills.

“Why are we walking
away
from the castle?” I ask.

“He said to follow him,” the captain replies.

We pass a few small, thatched houses and come to a cove of heavy brush and boulders beside the hill. The men trek right through the brush, snapping it back on us, and disappear into the darkness of some sort of cave.

Alvaro pauses. “Is this a trap, Captain?”

“Why would they kill us in this cave when they could have killed us right there by the lake?” He continues limping over the rocks on the path.

The light vanishes quickly once we’re in the cave, and all I can do is put my hands on either side of the narrow cavern and follow the noise of those ahead of me. About the time I start feeling like there’s little air left and the walls are closing in, I see some light flash as a door opens to a room ahead. I step out after Alvaro into the small, rock-walled room and suddenly realize we must be
inside
the castle.

Pepe squeals in delight, runs to the small high window. “We went through a secret tunnel!”

Andres and I both pull at him so we can see too. Through the window, the dark lake glistens, and the spring green hills roll with the mountain in the background.

“I can’t believe it!” I shout and turn to look at the captain’s face. Even he’s impressed.

We follow the men out to a court that is an open circle in the center of the fortress. By the way everyone’s standing around, I realize it must be a communal area.

MacClancy talks to the captain, who in turn translates for us.

“They’re getting ready for an attack. They’ve sighted the English on horseback in these areas, and most of their people have been brought into the castle.”

“Hello, my brothers!” a Spaniard still wearing his doublet and pants exclaims as he comes and kisses the captain on both cheeks. Five other Spaniards stand behind.

With the approach of the Spaniards, MacClancy bows and walks away to his people.

“What great ship split apart and spewed you out onto this foul shore?” The Spaniard laughs.

“We come from the
San Pedro
. I was her captain.” He decides to exclude the Judge Magistrate’s ship for a reason.

“Oh, Captain.” He and the others all bow slightly. “We wrecked on the
Juliana
. All of us that have survived stand before you.” He seems sadder at this.

“How have these savages treated you?” the captain enquires.

“Much better than others in this wretched place. This MacClancy is a very important savage. He and O’Rourke’s clan are giving England hell over in Sligo, holding on to their lands the best they can.”

“Can we get them to fetch us something to eat? We haven’t eaten or drank for days.”

“Well, you might have a problem there. These strange folk only eat once a day and at night, but I can get a maiden to fetch you all some sour milk.”

“Sour milk?” Andres asks with a sneer.

“Yes, it’s all they drink here, even though I’ve tasted the water and it is the sweetest I have ever tasted. So suit yourself.”

“Please have them fetch the sour milk. We’ll need something, however putrid, in our stomachs before suppertime.”

We head to the fire, where a few small boys are sitting but get up and move to their fathers at our approach. Sitting, I have the chance to take in everything around me and see these people are very different from those at home. They wear similar dismal-colored short coats of goat hair over tight trousers and wrap blankets around themselves. The women have very long hair, and the men wear their hair past their eyes. The women wear linen headdresses tied in the front of their foreheads, and although most of them are very fair, they appear old and frumpy the way they’re dressed. Nothing like the way Spanish women dressed back home. I thought of my mother, suddenly, and how pretty she always looked, and a pang punishes me for not thinking of her for so long.

Before I can think if she misses me by now, a young maiden returns with some wooden bowls and a pitcher. She’s dressed like the others but is not as fair. Her face is pinched in the middle, with thick round lips that give her a fish-like look. Her dirty blonde hair is tied back with her headdress, and she stares at Pepe as she puts the bowls down to pour. Pepe watches her pour them. When all are poured, she passes them out, waiting to give Pepe the last one. She hands him his but is sure to make eye contact as she places it in his hands. Andres shots me a look, and I know he notices the strange behavior as well. I’m relieved to see her leave and go back into another area.

“What an ugly girl that is,” Andres jabs.

“I don’t think she’s ugly,” replies Pepe, searching back to where she disappeared.

I want to change the subject. I take a sip of the milk. “Ugh!” I let out after I swallow the warm and slightly chunky liquid.

Pepe and Andres both follow with similar looks of disgust.

The captain holds his bowl up to us like a toast. “When in Rome—” And he swallows the whole bowl down with a few gulps. He lets out an “Ahh” when he finishes.

The rest of us finish slowly. I save some for Bella to have, and I call her over. She eagerly comes to inspect my bowl, but after one lap, she sneezes and runs off. We all laugh that even a dog wouldn’t drink the sour milk. I wonder if I’ll be here long enough to grow accustomed to it.

Andres bends in close, as if any of the savages could understand us, and says, “You notice how much stockier these men are. They’re built so thickly and look very strong.”

“Yeah, I noticed too,” I say, eyeing them.

Overhearing us, the Spaniard who welcomed us says, “Yes, they’re very powerful and hardy fellows. They leave almost every night after supper and go out on raids on their rival clans, stealing everything they can get their hands on.”

“It’s the reason why they’ll never defeat the English‌—‌they keep fighting each other,” the captain says as the Spaniard nods in agreement. Hours fly by with us observing the strange habits of the savages, and a simple dinner of oaten bread and butter is served.

“This is all they eat?” the captain asks the Spaniard in surprise.

“Yes, except on their feasting nights, where they’ll eat some meat, which we haven’t had the pleasure of partaking in yet.”