Lions of the Sea

49

The Trinidad glided south with little sail, escorted by the flagship and the other remaining frigate, while the crew repaired the damages from the night battle.

"Dammit. There's no way we can catch up and rescue Hernan like this."

Alonso heard Lorenzo grunt and sighed.

"Why wouldn't he let us set him free before they took him?" Lorenzo insisted.

"I don't know. It wasn't like him at all. Unless—"

"Unless what?"

Alonso grimaced. His own words didn't quite make sense. "Unless he didn't feel threatened."

"Good Lord, Luis! It was the damned Pearl of the Caribbean! And she still had half a hundred dogs able to fight! They must've given him a hell of a thrashing as soon as we lost sight of them!"

Alonso nodded absentmindedly, eyes ahead, scanning the horizon in the vain hope of spotting the Phantom's sails.

"Did you know the Pearl of the Caribbean is the daughter of the pirate that killed Hernan's father?" he said later.

Lorenzo frowned, puzzled.

Alonso nodded again. "Tell me about whims of fate."

"Even more reasons to not be captured by her! She's almost killed him once already!"

"I know, I was there. Yet he allowed it."

"Bow ahoy! Sail dead ahead! It's a boat! Spanish colors!"

The young captains opened their telescopes right away.

"I'll be damned!" cried Lorenzo. "Say my eyes aren't playing me!"

Alonso smiled. There he was, the damned bastard. Alive, on a boat and even with a Spanish flag. How the hell had he done it?

Soon after the shallop floated by the Trinidad. Castillano grabbed the ladder and looked up at all the heads showing over the gunwale, cheering for him. He swallowed a sigh. Nobody had thought of throwing him a rope to help him climb with only one arm.

"Hernan!" Alonso cried, showing out among the men.

"Come, Luis! And bring Lorenzo! We need to see the Admiral right away!"

Alonso repeated his words to the frigate's captain and hurried down the ladder. A moment later he hugged his friend, patting his back.

"Strike the flag, Luis," Castillano said. "And take a close look at it."

Alonso did and frowned up at him.

Castillano shook his head. "I can also invite you to a good wine, if you want," he said, grunting.

Lorenzo was coming to join them. Castillano put the flag in the basket and was forced to let the other man hug him and pat him too.

As they guided the boat to the flagship, Alonso and Lorenzo grilled Castillano. He let out a sarcastic chuckle when they asked him how he'd managed to escape.

"I took the ship over, of course," he replied. "All by myself and with only one good arm."

Lorenzo laughed out loud. But Alonso noticed his friend's bitter irony and kept a questioning stare on him. Castillano's look told him to leave it for later.

Soon they were led into the Admiral's cabin. Sober and stark, no Campeche logwood furniture, no fat feather cushions. No sleeping child behind light canopies.

Castillano accepted a glass of sherry while they congratulated him on his miraculous escape. When they were done, he wore his most serious face to meet the Admiral's eyes.