Lions of the Sea

37

Back home, Marina saw a bunch of horses outside the stables. Tomasa told her lunch would still take thirty more minutes, and she thought of dropping by the dining room to say hi. Her mother was right, and had she not seen those horses, she wouldn't know there were more people in the house. The wing where they led their everyday life remained completely isolated.

Only when she approached the door did she hear the loud voices of the men inside. And the first thing she heard was Charron and some others, disputing the story about her defeating the Lion, while Laventry and Harry swore it was true.

"Come, Laventry!" Charron said. "I've been to the shipyard earlier today. The Phantom's there, and all she's got is a few scratches on the side! And you expect me to believe that ship battled and boarded the Lion?"

"Don't come telling me your child beat that butcher, his warrior worth a frigate and his hundred skilled soldiers!" another man said.

"That son of a bitch broke the Sovereign and dozens more!"

The door opened wide roughly, cutting Charron off. And the men saw Marina at the doorway, glaring eyes and clenched teeth. In the thick silence that filled the room, she stalked in to stand between Laventry and Charron. She threw something on the table before them, spun around and stalked out, slamming the door shut.

The men traded an awkward glance and looked down at the table. Laventry laughed out loud while the others gawked at the Burgundy Cross banner before them, folded in such a way to show the ship's name.

The corsair dissuaded his friends to carry on with their vital conversations at some tavern and walked down the quiet hall toward the other side of the house. He found the women in the kitchen, chattering and giggling while they worked. All of them turned to grin at him when he knocked and stuck his head in.

Laventry came in and chuckled under his breath when he saw Marina. After humiliating the pirate captains, she was sitting near the hearth, wearing a simple dress and an apron, her hair up in a bun like the other women, sewing one of her own shirts.

A minute later he was sitting at the table, with a dish full of stew and a glass of wine.

"How's the recruiting going?" asked Cecilia.

"Not bad, considering how thin our ranks are, thanks to L'Olonnais and the Windward Fleet," Laventry replied between mouthfuls.

Cecilia noticed Marina's curious frown and explained, "Almost two years ago, François Nau recruited over five-hundred men and set sail to seize Nicaragua."

"Nicaragua as in the province? He wanted to conquer the whole territory?"

"Tell me about jerks"

"Laventry."

"Sorry, Cecilia. The last think we've heard was that he'd shipwrecked the whole expedition and both Indians and Spaniards were chasing the survivors down through the jungle. But rumor has it the Caribes caught and ate him and his party in Darien. They say only one man was left alive, to tell the tale as a warning." Laventry flashed one of his wolfish smiles. "I don't think we'll ever hear from L'Olonnais again. He had it coming, for he was one reckless fool, but he did take many good men with him to hell."

"Laventry!"

"Sorry, Cecilia." The corsair's smile turned apologetic under Cecilia's harsh frown. "However, I think I can have my own five hundreds."

He looked down at Marina, who held his eyes without the slightest hint of a smile. Laventry sighed and shrugged.

"When are you setting sail?" the girl asked, to keep him from insisting aloud.

"Well, the Armada needs the Admiralty's permission to change route. So they're heading back to Veracruz to get it, and then back south to Portobelo. That's two weeks. And as far as I know, they're leaving the Spanish Main tomorrow."

"Come! How can you know that!"

Laventry winked at her, making her chuckle. "So, looks like they won't be able to leave Portobello until early May."

"Depending on the galleons' load, it may be a slow trip."

"I'm betting on it. I think it's going to take them at least ten days to Havana."

"And how long will your flee take, Admiral?"

"Are you mocking me, pearl?"

"Me? I would never dare, Admiral."

Cecilia and the women giggled.

"Well, about a week, so the smaller boats can keep up."

"You're going down the Mona Passage, right?"

"Aye, it's safer. We're leaving on the last week of April."

After the corsair left, while Tomasa and Colette were still cleaning the dining room, Cecilia sat to have her herbs tea before going to bed. Her daughter read across the table, eating a fig because she'd already polished all the apples off.

"So you found a way to tell Laventry you're not going," Cecilia said, seemingly absorbed by the crucial activity of stirring her tea. "He didn't even insist. How did you do it?"

The girl looked up from her book. "I found Charron and the others making fun of what I did."

"You mean the Lion."

Marina frowned for a moment, then smiled. "Of course you know."

"You're my child."

Marina nodded and resumed her reading, letting silence pool between them.

"Do you feel like telling me what happened?"

The girl faced Cecilia again and shrugged. "A battle, Mother. Violence, hatred, blood. Nothing nice to share." She looked down at her book. "If you're talking about Castillano, I left him to die. I don't know what's become of him."

The silence was tense, until Cecilia whispered, "You knew."

"I'm your child," Marina replied softly.

They didn't trade another word until Cecilia finished her tea. "And how are you feeling?"

Marina closed her book with a heartfelt sigh and gazed out the window, looking for the right words. "The anger is appeased. Now only the pain remains." She met her mother's eyes and grimaced. "My uncle's gone forever, like my father. And killing a thousand Spaniards won't bring him back, nor ease the pain of his loss." She lowered her eyes and her voice. "Wish I'd known before beating him."

Cecilia rested her hand on Marina's. "But now you know. That's more than what most people are able to understand in a lifetime."

Marina faced her, tilting her head with a mild frown. "You're talking about my father."

Cecilia didn't answer, but her smile was sad enough to tell the girl she was right.

"But I will keep sailing, Mother."

"Of course you will, my child. There's too much salt in your blood to feel contented on dry land. And your father once told me that the sorrows the sea brings, only the sea can wash away."