Infinite Devotion (29 page)

Alvaro runs to the door and tries to push it open. “They’ve locked us in!”

The captain’s taking it all in. “We’re prisoners.”

Andres and I lay the blankets down on the stone floor and sit, eating the bread and butter we were given.

Alvaro takes a drink of the water and makes a sour face. “Stale water.”

“Even the savages treated us better,” the captain says as he stuffs a roll in his mouth.

Two months inch by confined in the small room. No clothing is brought for us, and our diet’s poor. Andres loses all of his plumpness he acquired in Ireland, and we look like two street beggars once again. We can never get warm, even with two blankets laid upon the stone, the cold from the stones seeps through.

One day there’s a knock on the door, and a well-dressed lord walks in, in clothing much like the captain and Alvaro had only months ago worn.

He speaks in Spanish. “I am Lord MacDonald and a fellow Catholic. I heard you have been kept here, and I’ve done my best along with some others to have you meet with the king. I brought some clothes for you to wear to approach the king in court today.” He claps, and a servant carries in a pile of new clothes for us to wear.

“Thank you, Lord MacDonald.” The captain bows slightly to him. “Your assistance is much appreciated.”

The lord leaves, and we put on our clothes. The clothes are probably lesser quality than the clothes the captain had been used to, but for Andres and me they’re luxurious. The silk hose and the linen-and-velvet tunics were the softest things we’ve had against our skins, thickened from all of the rough linen and wool we’d worn before.

Andres spins around in front of me when he’s dressed. “Good evening, Lord Alba. Ready to meet with the King?”

We laugh and I say, “Would you ever have guessed we’d be meeting with a king?”

Bella jumps up on his silk hose, and Andres pushes her off. “Bella, that’s silk!”

There’s a knock at the door, and the sullen-faced attendant comes and says, “The king will see you now.”

I pick up Bella to carry her with us, and Andres says, “Why are you bringing her?”

“I’m afraid to leave her behind. You never know what they’ll do with us.”

That makes Andres quiet. We walk behind Alvaro, who walks behind the captain, who leads the way aristocratically. Where he goes or whatever obstacles he faces, he always maintains an air of respect and confidence. When most would crumble, he grows stronger and makes us all stronger standing with him. The other Spaniards trail behind as we hurry to keep up with our pack. We’re led down a torch-lit and carpeted path that empties into a large and beautifully adorned room. The way the portraits all hang and the velvet curtains drape, I have a strange feeling of remembrance‌—‌like I had been in such a palace before. Visions of endless glimmering banquet tables, silk dresses swishing at the end of jeweled fingers, and courtly music filling a candle-lit ballroom flash before my eyes. I shake the foreign images from my mind, and I’m shocked when guards open two huge doors that lead to court.

A dozen or so lords have gathered for our cause, and we see the Lord MacDonald standing in front of them. There are many plain-clothed attendants and members of the court, and in the center, on a massive throne draped in velvet and silks, sits King James. Beneath the golden crown, silks, and velvets perches a weak and disappointing man. He’s plain and feminine-looking, and his legs barely fill out his hose. Above his chicken legs puff the pants that made his rear appear round. His doublet also seems inflated, twice the size it should’ve been with how small his legs, hands, and head are.

We follow behind the captain, who stands in front and speaks for us. James studies our movements with obvious lack of feeling. A courtly man stands beside the king on his right, all puffed out like the king but with peacock feathers sticking out at every possible place. He whispers something in the king’s ear that makes him smile.

The captain bows and says something in what sounds like Latin.

The king clears his throat. “I grow tired of your church’s outdated Latin.” He says this rather flatly in good Spanish. Then turns to the man at his right and says something in some other language, and his court laughs.

The captain stays quiet and waits for a question. The room’s hushed, all except for Bella’s panting.

“The Duke of Parma is buzzing in my ear about sending you a ship.” He strokes the pointed goatee on his chin that was the same yellow-gold of his amber eyes.

The captain nods graciously at this and still waits for more from the king.

James sighs dramatically and flips his hand. “So, I don’t know what to do. Half of the world will be displeased with me if I give you safe passage, and half of the world will be vengeful if I decide otherwise.”

The captain chances, “Maybe it would be wise to think of what God would have you do.”

The king spurts out in laughter, and all those under him feel they have permission to laugh also.

“You sound like my dear departed mother, Captain, really, it’s very sweet.” His voice is bitter as he plays.

“I take that as the highest compliment, Your Majesty.” The captain bows again.

The room starts to feel hot.

James pulls back and raises his weak neck out of his giant ruff, showing that the captain’s starting to annoy him.

“Talking for less than a minute and you speak of mothers and God. How truly Spanish of you.” He laughs, trying to regain his composure, and is satisfied with his people laughing with him.

The captain smiles with equal composure. “I wanted to thank Your Majesty for making us feel so at home here. I will make sure everyone knows of your graciousness as soon as I reach Spain.”

“That is
if
you reach home, Captain. I haven’t yet decided.”

Lord MacDonald steps forward at this moment. “A merchant from Flanders has written to me that he will provide six vessels, supplies, and offers five ducats for every Spaniard that arrives safely on Flanders’ shore.”

The captain’s happy to hear this and quickly says, “Your Majesty, what is your dilemma, then? You have no hand in our delivery other than making a profit off our ransom? Even
Her Majesty
would understand that.”

He gives a look of warning to the captain under a downturned brow, but the captain continues, “That is
if
it is truly a decision you have the power to make—”

The king jolts forward in his throne and spits, “Of course I have the power to make this decision. I am king!”

The captain bows and feigns an apology by saying, “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I do not mean any disrespect; only I’ve heard rumors your reign is limited by Her Majesty’s hand.”

James draws back slightly and proclaims, “Of course, I have the power and will do so if I so desire.”

He turns to the man on his right and speaks to him. The man then helps him up by wrapping his arms around the king in a strangely intimate way. I hold my breath when he stumbles feebly down the small steps. “I am going to think upon this in my chambers.”

Everyone parts for him to pass by, but when he approaches the captain, he turns and says, “Captain, I greatly respect your strong will to live and the passion you exude while doing so.” And he surprises everyone by leaning forward, grabbing the captain’s face, and kissing him on the lips.

The captain, the most taken off guard, pushes back too late and wipes his mouth as the king draws back and proclaims, “Just what I expected‌—‌tastes like fish!”

Those who understand Spanish in his court laugh heartily as others translate, and the laughter continues as the king slowly makes his way out of court with a sneer on his pale face.

We walk back to our prison in silence, but as soon as we’re alone, the captain rages, “What kind of a king kisses a man? The world is coming to pieces!”

Alvaro starts to laugh, and so we all did. Even the captain joins in.

Alvaro says, “I think his boyfriend was jealous,” and we all laugh again.

The slats lift, and the door swings open. Lord MacDonald enters with meats, cheeses, bread, and three jugs of wine.

We clap and take them from him with many thanks as the captain says, “You could have warned me about that.”

The lord laughs. “We have been trying to get the queen’s hand puppet removed to no avail.” He takes off his cape. “He wears all that padding for a reason, you know.” He gives us a wink.

Andres and I dive in immediately on the meats and cheeses while Alvaro and the men begin passing the wine around.

The captain says, “Anyone who signs their own mother’s death warrant for a kingdom has sold his soul and has the devil to pay.”

The lord agrees. “You did quite a job twisting his hand there, Captain. If he chooses against us, then people will think he’s weak and has no power. Very clever.”

“Thank you for your kind words and aid, Lord.”

“The Duke of Parma is very diligent in sending letter after to letter to court, along with the Catholic lords, in hopes of obtaining your deliverance.”

The captain turns to us. “Better late than never, I guess.”

The lord, unsure of what this meant, lets it roll. “We will all be fighting for your cause, and I will have my attendant meet your needs and bring you news.”

He opens the door to leave, and servants file in one after the other with feather mattresses for each of us to sleep on. Andres’s eyes shine.

Chapter 19

MacDonald keeps his word, and we don’t have a want for anything, besides freedom. We keep getting letters speaking of progress as days slip by. Finally, after six months in captivity, the door’s opened and it’s Lord MacDonald.

He proclaims, “The merchant from Flanders is here with your four ships and has paid James in full for everyone’s transport. James has accepted and allowed passage through the queen’s waters to Flanders!”

We all cheer, and the captain asks, “When do we leave?”

“Today.” We cheer again in surprise, and he continues, “We think it best to leave before he changes his mind or decides to alert the queen or the Dutch of your passing through.”

Andres and I bend to gather our blankets, and the lord says, “Don’t bother bringing anything. The ship’s fully outfitted.”

The captain goes up and hugs the lord. He looks embarrassed and says, “Just don’t kiss me, Captain.”

We’re escorted out the building without any message from King James and into three carriages MacDonald arranged. Arriving at the dock, we see three shining brand-new pinnaces that make the captain almost weep at the sight. He shakes the hand of the merchant from Flanders for over a minute in thanks. Andres and I fight to stay with the captain and Alvaro, and we carry Bella, not wanting to lose her so close to home. Each ship has a full crew, and the merchant tells the captain and Alvaro to simply relax. We each get a hammock and even the ship’s lower deck smells fresh.

“I think we’re going to make it, Luis!” Andres says, swinging in his hammock.

“We’re not there yet,” I say, sitting on mine.

“We can’t have made it through all of this to not make it home now,” Andres says, sure.

“I hope you’re right.” I try to feel as confident as Andres.

Later, Alvaro yells down, “Boys! We’re passing the queen’s ports!”

I push off my hammock while Andres gets his foot caught in one of the ropes and trips and falls. “Luis!”

I untangle him and help him up. We go to watch and hold our breath as we gain trespass.

“We did it, Luis! We’ve made it!” Andres spins happily on deck.

“Yeah, that’s a good sign we got through.” But Alvaro watches the Dutch coast warily, and I know we aren’t safe yet.

That night, Alvaro shakes me awake. “Get up, you two! On deck now!”

We run up with Bella at our heels and see a whole fleet of ships attacking the two pinnaces ahead of us.

“Who is that?” Andres gasps with his hand over his mouth.

“The Dutch,” Alvaro says, filling a shot bag and loading a musket. “Here. Andres, tie this to your waist and remember what I taught you at the castle.”

“What’s happening?” I ask, barely finding my voice.

“The Dutch have already broadsided and boarded the other two pinnaces. The captain was quick to turn away, and now we’re on a chase, but we’re out numbered and we’re getting chased into shallow water.”

He hands me a pouch and musket. I look to where the captain is and can hear him frantically calling out orders to dodge the larger ships behind us.

Alvaro grabs his musket last. “Remember, these are heavy and have a powerful kickback. You need to brace it and fire on the musket rests. Here are two sabers if they get onboard.”

Alvaro goes to leave, but Andres squeaks out, “Don’t leave us!”

Alvaro looks back. “I’ll be right back.”

Andres turns to me, and he seems so small next to the long musket.

“Come on, we better find a rest to put these in,” I say.

The captain yells in such a high pitch I can’t even hear what he’s saying, and he’s hitting his hat and grinding his teeth while he yells.

Alvaro runs across to us and screams, “Brace yourself! We’re about to run aground!” And we grab on as tight as we can to the railing as everything under our feet shakes and the force sends all three of us flying.