Legends of the Vengeance : The First Adventure (9781310742866) (13 page)

“It has been less than a week since we
raided Formentera!”

“And what did they find?” Eduardo shot back.
“There was nearly nothing there! The inhabitants no longer inhabit!
We are running out of food, wine, and water. We’ll make it a week
but not much more! The cats will be food, and we will all get a
single bite as our final meal.”

“You exaggerate.” Nicolo did not even
attempt to hide his disgust.
Histrionics are no reasonable way
to argue a point,
he grumbled to himself.

“I may exaggerate for today, but will you
call those same words an exaggeration in a week’s time if we have
not captured a ship? You cannot send men out into the ocean without
proper supplies and a ship built for it.”

“Well, I did. You know why. You had the
chance to leave and you didn’t. If you have a problem with that, it
is your own fault.”

“You know—” began Eduardo, but Nicolo
covered his lips with his finger.

Gesturing at the floor below, Nicolo slapped
at his chest as hard as he could and then groaned. “What the—”

Eduardo stared at him as if he’d gone mad
and then comprehension dawned. “I trust—”

Nicolo’s head shook violently as he
gesticulated toward the door.

“—that you’ll have more sense when I
return.” With that, Eduardo opened the door and slammed it again
but did not leave.

Frantically, Nicolo glanced around the room
and then spied a near empty bottle of wine. He took a swig,
swallowing as much as he could and passed it to Eduardo who
finished it off. Then, he slammed it down in a small wooden box,
allowing the glass to shatter. “Idiot! They’re all idiots,” he
yelled and then murmured into Eduardo’s ear, “Get Jaime to go down
and see who is below.”

He pretended to open the door to leave
himself and then shut it again. “Why go out and be bothered by men
who are traitors to me. I have served them well—made most of them
rich.” He snorted. “Well, most would be rich if they did not waste
it ashore. What they did with their spoils is their problem. I did
my part. I have never failed them, but this is how they repay me.
Questioning my judgment. I know what I am doing. Despite their
doubts, I will get us a ship, and we will feast once again.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Eduardo crept through the hold, across the
ship, and to the little corner beneath the captain’s cabin. It
would have been impossible for someone to leave without being
detected. Whomever Nicolo had heard must still be there. At first,
he saw nothing, but a sneeze—the very thing that probably alerted
the captain in the first place—told him that someone was still
there.

“Come out of there now, you fool. What do
you think you are doing?”

At first, no one stirred from within the
small space, but at last, the swarthy face of Hector appeared. “I
am trying to discover why our captain is trying to kill us.”

“He is not trying to kill you, you fool. Why
would he bring you on board, and promise to help you even though
you are a worthless fool, if he wanted to kill you?”

“You argued; I heard you,” the man whined.
“You think it is unsafe too.”

“I argue what I know the men want me to say.
It is my job to represent them. It is also my job to encourage the
men to take over if the captain is unsound. Have you seen me do
that
?”

Hector sniveled, whining about bad food, bad
wine, and no alcohol. The man’s thirst for rum had barely been held
at bay by the weak wine they served on board. His hands shook, and
his eyes darted in all directions—wild. He craved the drink that he
had long used to numb the pain of his memories.

Without mercy, Eduardo dragged him up on
deck, informing every man that they encountered the he’d caught the
man eavesdropping and denouncing him as a possible spy. He didn’t
believe it. Between Hector’s stunned expression at the accusation
and his pathetic whimpering for rum, it seemed highly implausible
that the man would be capable of being anything more than the weak
fool that he was.

Several of the crew cried out for blood.
Hang him!
Eduardo refused. “He has been proven guilty of
nothing but eavesdropping. He’ll be flogged for that at least, but
if that is his only crime, it is not worthy of death.”

Nicolo stood outside his cabin, waiting for
Eduardo to appear with their uninvited “guest.” At the sight of
Hector, his face clouded. “He was the one?”

“Yes. I think we can get some information
from him if we give him a cup of rum.”

“Oh, yes!” the man pleaded. “I will tell you
anything you want to know. Just give me a little!”

To his surprise, Nicolo capitulated. “Send
Jaime, meanwhile, let’s go inside. I have questions for our
friend.”

Jaime appeared at the door a short while
later with a large cup and a small jug of rum. Eduardo filled the
cup and refrained from kicking Hector as he lunged for it. “Keep
yer hands off it,” he ordered.

“It works like this,” Nicolo said, injecting
a deadly calmness to his tone. “You answer quickly and truthfully
and the cup stays full. You lie to me or hesitate and I will pour
some back.”

Hector nodded, licking his lower lip in
anticipation. “Anything.”

“How did you hear of me?”

“I told you—” Nicolo nodded and Eduardo
poured a little of the amber drink back into the jug. “No! Ok, I
will tell you. When the man freed me from the prison, he sent me to
Málaga. I was in a tavern, having some rum, and the proprietor
asked me where I had come from. I must have been drinking more than
I knew because I told him everything—about them taking everything
from me, being imprisoned, the torture, everything.”

“Go on.”

“He told me he knew someone—someone who
could not only help me start over, but also get revenge. He
mentioned you.”

“And how did you come to Siracusa?”

“He told me to go there. He said to get him
word of where I was staying, and he would send Nicolo Soranzo.”
Hector ducked. “I almost didn’t do it when I learned who you
were.”

“How did you get there so swiftly?”

“I hid on ships in caravans. I was just
happy to get out of Spain, and if you could really help…”

The men listened as Hector answered question
after question. From how he found a place to live, to where he got
the money to pay for it, the man answered each question correctly
and quickly. Nicolo argued that it was almost too perfect, but then
what else could the man say? If it had really happened—and the
recounting sounded like almost every story he heard—then it was
truth. If a lie, shouldn’t something be out of place?

“I don’t know, Nicolo. How could anyone just
happen to find Francois? Did you not get the word directly from
him?”

“The right person…”

Hector’s eyes volleyed back and forth as he
watched the men speak. At last, he tried again, begging for the
rum. “You promised. I answered your questions.”

“What would you say if we set you on land
tomorrow and let you go without food or money?”

A flash of anger filled the man’s eyes. “You
promised that I could earn a share of loot. You promised it would
be enough to start over somewhere.”

Nicolo handed over the cup of rum. “Drink
up. You’re going to need it.”

“Wha—”

“You were caught eavesdropping, you
imbecile! Do you think that can go unpunished?”

The man whimpered, sniveled, and almost
guzzled the rum between pleas for mercy. However, the rules of the
ship were clear. Nicolo and Eduardo would have no choice even had
they wanted to show mercy. The man must be whipped.

They called Jaime to bind Hector. With hands
over his head, the boatswain looped a rope between Hector’s arms to
help hold him up when his knees buckled. They would buckle. The
idea that they might not never occurred to any of them. A flogging
meant pain, staggering pain.

Most of the crew crowded on deck, eager to
watch. They jeered, cheered, and treated the spectacle as if it
were a sporting event. Several made bets on how long it would take
the man to fall, his lower legs kicking to regain support. Others
speculated on the number of lashings or if the man would cry like a
child.

Nicolo stood in front and called out his
crime. The boat roared with indignation, demanding the whipping.
Hector once again cried for mercy. As was their custom, Nicolo
offered to release Hector at the crew’s request. Again, they
demanded the whip. With the full support of every man on ship—save
the accused—Nicolo held up the whip and offered it to Eduardo.

“You found him. You have the right.”

Eduardo shook his head. “He insulted you
with his actions. It is your right and your responsibility.”

The first lash barely flicked the man’s calf
and brought about screams of pain. Unable to endure the theatrics,
Nicolo tossed his hat aside and uncoiled more of the whip. He
stepped back, rolled his eyes at the crew, and sent the whip flying
once more. This time, it ripped through Hector’s shirt and left a
bleeding welt on the man’s back. Again he struck. Again. The
screams of agony filled the air around them.

After six lashings, one of which was the
first flick that caused no injury, Nicolo slowly recoiled the whip.
“You earned seven, but I will give you mercy on the last one. It
will, however, be added to any future punishment if you ever betray
my trust again. Do you understand me?”

The blubbering mess of a man whimpered his
agreement and struggled to stand to relieve the pressure of the
weight of his body on his wrists. Nicolo turned, ready to return to
his cabin. The men separated, leaving a path to the door. He had
regained their respect.

Eduardo left Hector hanging while he pulled
out the telescope and scanned the ocean to ensure no ships had
sailed into view while they had “enjoyed” their little display of
discipline. He swept it over every inch of water that he could see
but found nothing but water, waves, and sky. Leaning against the
rail, he stared out over the water, anxious for what he knew would
happen if they did not capture a ship soon.

Jaime spoke quietly to him and then went to
release Hector. His knife slit through the rope and the man dropped
to the deck. Gently, he unbound the ropes that bound Hector’s
wrists together and examined the welts on the man’s body. “You’ll
need to see Mac. He can clean them.” Blubbering, the man staggered
toward the wrong side of the ship. Jaime caught him and turned him
in the correct direction. “Be glad of the rum. It would be worse
without it I am sure.”

As he turned, his eyes met Sebastian’s.
Troubled and revolted, the boy tried to hide his disgust, but it
was too late. Visibly shaken, Sebastian crept back to his cabin.
Jaime sighed. The life that they had created to keep the boy alive
might save his body, but sometimes, it seemed as if it would kill
his spirit.

Unrest

Alone in his cabin, Sebastian curled on his
bunk, trying to erase the memory of the whipping from his mind. Try
as he might, he failed. Instead, he stared at the wadded up rag in
the corner as if it had betrayed him somehow. It wiped away his
sketching mistakes, but nothing worked well for the images floating
behind his eyes, searing themselves into his heart. Hatred for the
life he ached to leave burned in his heart.

“I do,” he whispered. “I hate this.”

His greatest fear was that he would find
himself facing the noose, hung as a pirate. Each time they gave
chase on a ship—battle for ownership of the property—he inwardly
trembled at the idea of failure. The odds were against them,
weren’t they? It didn’t seem plausible that they could continue to
plunder and pillage unchecked indefinitely.

Jaime’s head peeked around the door.
“Sebastian?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you all right? You shouldn’t have been
there.”

“I know.” Knowing rarely stopped him from
doing stupid things. That was probably why his father treated him
like a child still. He acted like one more than he cared to
admit.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Jaime
chided. “Are you all right?”

“No,” he whispered. Suddenly, all the
thoughts and questions he often wanted to ask poured from him
unchecked—something he realized had become a habit of late. “How
can he do this?” Sebastian whined. “He talks about how much he
loves me—that he wants to keep me alive.”

“I—”

“He’s certain someone is trying to kill me,
as if anyone cares about the son of a pirate, but then he puts us
in harm’s way,” Sebastian continued without giving Jaime a chance
to explain. “He hires these idiot men like Hector, who know
nothing, gives them large portions of the prize, and for what?
Why?”

“Because it is who your father is. I know it
seems crazy when you don’t understand—”

“Then help me understand!” he cried.

“—but your father is a great man.” This time
Jaime continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Few people will
risk their lives to help others as your father does. He is not
perfect, but he is a true champion of the misfortunate.”

“He’s a criminal.”

The judgment hung in the air between them.
Sebastian knew that his friend would do anything his father asked,
but he also knew that Jaime did not like the violence either. Jaime
would never condemn Nicolo as Sebastian did and that bothered him.
He wanted the support of his friend.

“Yes, we both are. I am a criminal. Eduardo
is a criminal. Mac, Filipe, Giorgio, and now Hector are all
criminals. Someday, you too will be a criminal.”

“If we are captured today by the military, I
will be hung as one alongside the rest of you.”

“It is possible, but we hope that it isn’t
true. I think we can ensure your life is spared. At the least, we
might be able to delay things long enough for you to have a chance
at escape. This is why we tell you not to resist—to deny your
father and play the victim. It will help you.”