Pirate Freedom (22 page)

She giggled. "He sleeps, Chris. I tired him very, very big."

"Me, too."

"Not nearly so grand as Jarden. Nor will he kill you. I have taken your measure and his. He could not do it and would not try. Mzwilili will not care. He is honored."

So there were three of us. It took me a second or so to digest that.

"You must not tell your Novia. She will be angry with me. Tell her too much, if you enjoy this telling." Azuka giggled again. "You lie to make her jealous. That is what Novia shall think. I must be with when you tell, Chris." She kissed me. "I wish to hear everything."

"If I had any guts at all, I'd throw you over the railing." I started to stand up and discovered that my pants were still around one ankle.

"You will not do that."

I knew she was right. I liked her too much.

Okay, I loved her. Besides, she had saved us from hanging. I made her go back to Jarden, and made her promise to be quiet about it.

"I will not wake him," she whispered. "Too much you have tired me, Chris."

After that I went forward to relieve myself. The watch was snoring through the making tack, lying on deck like so many dead men. When I came back, I had a long talk with the man at the wheel. When I felt sure he would keep his mouth shut, I lay back down again and slept until the sun woke me.

I GUESS I
ought to say here that
Magdelena
was lying alongside the next morning, but she was not. I know we did not sight her that day. It may have been the day after, but I cannot be sure.

When we did, she had a Spanish capture with her. That was the
Castillo Blanco
, but you could not buy hamburgers on her. Jokes aside, the
Castillo Blanco
was a galley, and maybe the most beautiful ship I ever saw, low, slick, and sleek, with two fore-and-aft masts and a long bowsprit that carried two square spirit sails. Before I go any further with this, I ought to say that she was not like the kind of galley people think of today when they hear the word, a sort of prison ship with galley slaves chained to the oars. She had
oarlocks in the rails and the long oars we call sweeps, but the crew pulled them, not slaves, and although they could be very, very handy in a dead calm, they did not get used a whole lot. I had already fallen in love with
Magdelena
. You have probably seen that, if you have actually read this far. With
Castillo Blanco
it was different. I did not really fall hard for the
Magdelena
until we had her bottom clean and the jib up. With
Castillo Blanco
it was love at first sight.

Jarden launched the boat Antonio had come in, and had me rowed over to
Magdelena
. Azuka was left behind on the
Rosa
. Rombeau and Novia were waiting for me as I came over the side of the
Magdelena
. We set a course for Port Royal and told Jarden to follow us. And it was like coming home.

THIS IS PRETTY
stupid, I know, but I am going to do it anyway. For the past two days I have been trying to talk myself out of telling what Rombeau said and what I said, what Novia said, how we hugged and kissed and held hands, and all that. I have been trying, but I cannot do it. Those things are too important to me. If I do not write about the things that were important to me, I cannot write at all.

The weather was great. There was a little breeze to cool us off, and the sun was low in the west. That sunset had
FAIR WEATHER
written all over it. The stormy season was coming, but there were not any storms yet. Or if there were, they were nowhere near us. I got one of the men to carry a chair up for Novia. The rest of us stood, or sat on the railing.

But before I tell about that—the whole crew was glad to see me, and it was something I will never forget. They came crowding around when I came up on board, and we shook hands and hugged each other and all that. I had never made a special effort to learn everybody's name, but I found out I had learned practically all of them. Mostly it was just the last name, which was what we used mainly. Sometimes it was the first name or a nickname, but I had some kind of a name for just about everybody.

Then Novia came pushing through, and we hugged and kissed for about a year, and she gave me that wonderful smile. A long time after that Rombeau got me aft and had Dubec chase the crew back where they were supposed to be, although the mizzen men were close enough to hear a lot and the man at the wheel must have heard everything.

I said, "You got someone to navigate for you, someone off that beautiful white galley. Who is it?"

Rombeau's eyes got a little wider—which I enjoyed, I admit. "How did you know, Captain?"

"It made sense, that's all. I would have done the same thing. Who is it?"

"The captain. He and his ship were all we got, but we did get him. His name is Ojeda." Rombeau paused. "He was reluctant at first. I was able to persuade him. He—all the prisoners are below, in chains. You wish to speak to him?"

I did, and we sent one of Dubec's men to fetch him. He was smaller than I expected, and stood very straight. His beard and mustache must have looked neat and cool when he stood on his own little quarterdeck. There on the afterdeck of the
Magdelena
they were just sad.

I had the idea that it might be good not to let him know I spoke Spanish. Rombeau had surely been speaking French to him, so that was what I did, too. "You were master of the
Castillo Blanco
? What are you doing here?"

He nodded. His French was really bad, and pretty often he had to make signs. I will not give all that. "We could not resist" was what he meant. "Six little guns I have. He swear our lives we have."

"I see. Was the promise kept? All of you are still alive?"

He nodded.

"How many?"

"Owner and his wife. Treated much badly, we are. Alvarez. Three seamen."

Rombeau touched my arm when Ojeda said that, and I knew something was up. I said, "Who is Alvarez?"

Ojeda was at a loss for words. At last he said, "Me oficial, Señor. He help me."

"Your mate."

He nodded, looking relieved. "Sí."

"It doesn't seem like much of a crew for such a fine ship."

He shrugged. It meant, "I am not the owner."

Rombeau had been holding the prisoners below. I called Menton over and told him to take Ojeda to the bow and keep him there. "Don't beat him unless he gives you trouble," I said. "Don't talk to him, and don't let him talk to anybody."

Rombeau chuckled when they had gone. "They cannot plot, Captain. Menton has no Spanish and the other no French."

"Does Ojeda not know any, or just pretend he doesn't?" I asked. Rombeau had no answer for that, so he changed the subject. "There is a woman hiding
on board the
Castillo Blanco
. Did he tell you? I could not understand all he said."

"He said the owner and his wife, but the way he said it, it sounded like the wife was down in the hold."

"Another woman. Perhaps a man, too."

"You haven't been able to find them?"

Rombeau shook his head. "Not yet."

Novia said, "A woman only, Crisóforo. No man."

"It would be pretty hard to hide on a ship," I told them, "and that one's not nearly as big as this one."

"Yet she is there," Rombeau insisted.

Naturally I quizzed them, and here is what it came down to: there were two nice cabins on the
Castillo Blanco
and Ojeda had not been living in either one. One had been for the owner and his wife. A woman had been living in the other one. A woman's clothing was scattered around in there, there was some jewelry not in the jewelry box, and so forth. Powder and rouge left open. There was a man's baggage in there, too, but all that had been neatly stowed away.

I asked Novia why she had said there was only a woman.

"Because that captain protect her. He will lie to you. He will say there is no woman. It is most dangerous for him, my heart, and he know it. But he will do it, because she has no protector. You are not Spanish nor is Rombeau, thus you do not understand. I am Spanish and I comprehend him. There is the woman, alone, hiding on his ship. Or he think this."

WE NEEDED TO
talk to the owner and his wife, only not together. The question was, which one first? We argued about it, Rombeau and I saying the owner, Novia the wife. Novia was outvoted, so I had a man bring the owner up.

His hands were chained. So were his feet, and there was a chain running between them. He bowed just the same. It was pretty good, and without the chains would probably have been beautiful. "I am Don José de Santiago, Monsieur. I take it you are master of the third ship that joins us?"

I shook my head. "I'm captain of this one. Rombeau here is my first mate. You've talked to him?"

"Alas, Captain, only briefly. I am eager to serve him, but he gives me no opportunity."

"He's a wise man," I said.

Rombeau chuckled.

I said, "You have money hidden on your ship, Don José. Perhaps other things. You must show us your hiding place. If you do not …" I raised my shoulders and let them drop.

"We were promised our lives, Monsieur. Are you not a man of honor?"

"I am," I told him. "Please permit me to explain the situation. First, it was not I but this man Rombeau who gave you his word. No doubt he will keep it. I did not give mine and am not bound."

"Monsieur—"

"Second, my own eyes have eyelids." I blinked to show what I meant. "I've never been without eyelids, but I'd think somebody who had none might like dying a lot better."

I paused, trying to make it impressive. "You will be in a position to settle the matter for us, Don José. And third," I drew a pistol and knocked him flat with the long iron barrel. I hit him hard, but not hard enough to kill him.

Novia asked, "What make you think he has hidden money?"

"I know he has," I told her. "I hope he's not a relative of yours."

"I have never see him, Crisóforo, and it would not matter if he were my brother. But how do you know?"

I turned to Rombeau. "What was he doing here? Did he say? Why did he leave Spain?"

"Like us." Rombeau smiled a little sadly. "He has come to make his fortune, he says. He is known to the governor."

"He owns that white ship, and he has come to make his fortune?"

"A greater fortune. So he says."

Novia said, "By smiling and bowing? I think not."

"I tell you what he says," Rombeau declared. "I did not say I believed it."

"Once I had to kill time in Veracruz," I told them, "and I heard a few things. Men with money come to New Spain pretty often. Land is cheaper than dirt, and they buy a lot of it. They build a big house, and the people who used to own that land work it for them."

I kicked the Spaniard. "Get up, Don José. You're not fooling anybody. Stand up."

He did, and I said, "If you give us the money, there won't be any reason to do anything to you, capeesh? We'll put you ashore someplace and go away, and you'll be all right."

"I am poor now, Monsieur. What little I had, this man took."

"You want me to fight with Rombeau. That's smart, but it's not going to
happen." It was getting pretty dark by then, and I was thinking about building a fire in a pan or something so we could heat irons in it. Brother Ignacio had branded the new calves at the monastery, and I knew how impressive a red-hot iron looks after vespers.

Novia said, "Who was on your ship when you put out, Monsieur de Santiago? We must have the names."

Hearing her French, he switched to Spanish right away and bowed to her. He must have been getting a pretty good knot on his head by then, and the way he was chained up he could not reach it. He bowed just the same. It got me to wondering whether I would have his guts in Hell. Maybe when I first checked in, I decided.

"You know me, Señora. If you would honor me …"

"I will not," Novia told him. "The names!"

"As you wish." (He told us about his wife, but I do not remember all his wife's names. We called her Pilar.) "My captain is Ojeda. His first name is Carlos. Our crew," he made a small, polite noise, "do not matter. Ask Captain Ojeda. He will tell you, I am certain."