Lions of the Sea

30

Only months earlier, Castillano had sworn he would never play escort to inflated fancy officers that smelled like women. However, after months patrolling from Veracruz to Maracaibo and back, he almost broke in gratitude tears when the Lion was picked to take an inspector from the House of Trade to Santo Domingo, with his entourage of accountants, scribes and pages. Alonso laughed in his face while they readied the Lion in Veracruz, because Castillano looked as enthusiastic as when they'd left Cadiz four years earlier.

The amount of passengers and luggage forced them to reduce the military crew, but Castillano trusted that wouldn't be a problem. Their route was pretty much safe. From Veracruz to Yucatan, then crossing toward Cuba, and down along the island up to the Windward Passage. That was the only risky part, sailing so close to Port Royal. But onboard the Lion, even the last sailor was able to wield a blade to defend the King's colors. From Cape Cruz, it'd take them only three days to reach Santo Domingo. And once they got there, Castillano expected the commander of Fort Ozama would give them the men to complete their crew. After "getting rid of the Stinky Wigs and their chests," like Castillano would say. Then they would set sail to Maracaibo to join the Armada again.

However, they came across a storm while they sailed toward the Windward Passage, and they had heavy sea and squall most of the way.

"One funny trip," Castillano called it, enjoying to see the wigs bending over buckets, so sick they couldn't keep even a biscuit.

The weather cleared near Santo Domingo, and they helped their sick, shaky passengers to the dock under a bright blue sky.

The interview with the commander at Fort Ozama left Castillano a bitter aftertaste. Not only didn't he have enough men to give any to the Lion. It was also the general situation of La Hispaniola. The French were slowly claiming back the west side of the island. Outbreaks had killed the few natives left and it was hard to get more slaves for the plantations. Smuggling was pretty much what kept the island's economy afloat.

"That's the state of things, Captain," the Commander had said, refilling their glasses with cheap sherry. "We can only lower our heads and keep working. The Lord never sends trouble we cannot overcome. So we can only keep our faith and remember He tests us to make us stronger."

Back to the port, Castillano found Alonso had everything going to set sail the next morning. Castillano gave the night off to his crew. Even though he didn't like sleeping onboard when they were docked, he intended to stay behind. Claiming back his cabin, after almost two weeks stuffed with his men in the scarce room left by the officers and their luggage, sounded like the plan of the century.

A plan Alonso opposed. "After so many days smelling each other's feet, let us get some prettier faces to see up close," he said.

He threw Castillano's coat to his face and dragged him to land, to enjoy the secret treasures of Santo Domingo.

However, as soon as his officers were tipsy and in good company, Castillano headed back to the Lion. He made sure the guards stayed vigilant despite being at a friendly port and savored every step he took toward his cabin.

But as soon as he set foot in it, he stalked across it to open the windows wide, grumbling and growling, because the place stank of perfumes and oils. He hung his hammock in no hurry and stretched his blanket. Then he blew the lamp off and sat down by the open windows, an elbow resting on the sill, his eyes lost in the darkened sea.

A sigh escaped his lips. That routine was killing him inside. He'd come to the Caribbean Sea with the will and the means to cleanse that corner of the world from the scum preying upon so many good, God-fearing souls. So no more little boys would ever wake up again in the middle of the night to watch their fathers die in the hands of a seadog.