Lions of the Sea

62

The prisoners spent the night the best they could, snoozing and talking in whispers to keep from bothering Marina. The girl's fever had broken a little, but she was back to that agitated slumber, filled with nightmares she couldn't fight.

The cathedral bells tolled as the day broke, echoing in the dungeon like an ominous omen of what was to come.

What didn't take long to come.

Marina woke up to the loud footsteps of boots approaching. She turned to her men terrified. Morris held her face in his hands, his eyes full of impotent tears.

"Be strong, my pearl," he whispered. "Don't give them reasons to hurt you. I'm coming for you. Wherever you are, I'm coming for you."

The soldiers were already there with an old nun and an officer opened the dungeon.

"Morris!" the girl cried, desperate, when two soldiers stalked in and grabbed her arms.

"Marina!"

Maxó and De Neill needed to hold Morris back from attacking the Spaniards, as close to tears as he was while they watched the soldiers take the girl away.

"I will burn every single church in the Caribbean till we find her," Maxó snarled. "And then I will burn the ones left."

"And I'm helping you, mate."

Morris fell to his knees, covering his face with his hands. Behind him, Oliver and Gerrit bit their tongues not to cry.

After a short stop to remove her shackles, Marina was dragged to the carriage yard, where she was thrown in the back of a cart. A soldier held the reins and the nun climbed to sit with him. A dozen soldiers circled the cart, muskets to their shoulders. The girl managed to sit up. As far as she knew, she only needed to make it through until Laventry took the city and her men rescued her. But what if they killed her before that? And if they took her away from Maracaibo? So many things could go wrong! Actually, everything had gone wrong since she'd turned herself in, and she didn't dare to harbor any hope anymore.

The cart circled the Main Square and stopped by the northern gate of the cathedral. Maracaibo's Bishop waited there with three priests and half a dozen nuns. The soldiers brutally yanked Marina down from the cart and threw her on her knees before the priests. She didn't dare to move, and stayed there with her head down.

"Thank you, sons. God bless you," the Bishop said, and Marina quivered when she heard the vicious joy in his voice. "Take her to the east yard."

The soldiers stepped back and the priests grabbed her. They pulled her to her feet, and one of them fastened a leather leash with a noose around her neck, tied to the end of a three-foot-long stick. They took her inside of the cathedral down lateral corridors, away from chapels and halls. A priest behind her held the stick at his shoulder's height, and if Marina tripped, the leash choked her.

Soon they reached an inner yard. Marina tried to step back as soon as they walked out of the gallery. The open yard was carpeted in broken sea shells, that stuck into her wounded soles like needles. The priests grabbing her arms pushed her forward. The third priest didn't follow, and the leash tugged so hard at her neck that it stopped her. She took both hands to her throat, gasping for air. A nun came with another stick, shorter and thinner, that whistled through the air before lashing her hands. Marina moved them away from her throat, raising them as if they had a gun pointed at her.

The Bishop came to stand in front of her, his sandals shattering the shells. She tried to move her weight from one foot to the other, trying in vain to avoid those sharp splinters.

"Pain cleanses our souls, child," said the Bishop, with a smile that pretended to be benign. "And God Our Lord knows you have countless sins to atone for." He smiled wider. "But fear not, child. For it is our mission to help you find virtue and salvation for your soul."