Port of San Julian. Winter Quarters. June 22, 1520.

We have had terrible news. We have lost the Santiago.

Captain Serrano sailed south, as per the Captain-General's orders, but was to report back after a month. It has now been nearly two months since and we only received word of her fate today in a most unexpected manner. These tidings came by land.

This morning, two figures were seen tottering toward us over the hills that line the port. We warily armed ourselves in case they were hostile natives. But, to our amazement, the naked, starved, exhausted men were two of the Santiago's crew. These men told us that Serrano had gotten as far as a river, which he named the Rio de Santa Cruz. An excellent port with an abundance of fish, Captain Serrano was returning to tell us of his discovery when a squall from the east drove the ship onto the rocks of the shore. It is miraculous that only one life was lost. The other thirty-seven made it safely to land and are waiting at the mouth of the Rio de Santa Cruz in extreme need of assistance. The crew of the ill-fated ship chose the two strongest of the party to make their way to us. These men have suffered greatly and only just managed to keep themselves alive by devouring roots and grass.

Magellan is sending a boat to the rescue, but it will be several days at least before the shipwrecked men are brought back.

This loss is a tremendous blow. The Santiago was the smallest of the ships in the fleet and the most agile. She could sail and reconnoiter where the larger ships would have run aground. Like every other loss in this uncharted region of the world, she was irreplaceable.

The Port of San Julian has brought us nothing but disaster and the bloodstained sand is fraught with doom. Many of the crew cry, "Let us get away!" and the Captain-General's supreme desire is to continue on with the voyage. Everyone's impatience is becoming greater as the days grow longer. Many want to quit the expedition and return to home and yet if we return to Spain now it will be a homecoming with no honor or reward. Magellan will not return having accomplished none of his objectives.

And I agree with him. I have sacrificed too much and too many things have happened me to wish to stop now.

We must and will continue.

Barcelona, Spain 1519

Shortly after sighting the landmass of Europe, I saw the port city of San Lucar where the Gualdalquivir River meets the sea. Somewhere north of me was Seville and the village where I grew up, but that was not my destination. We passed the rock of Gibraltar and sailed on into the Mediterranean.

We arrived in Barcelona in early April 1519 in the morning. The first thing to come into view was the cathedral, rising above all else. Though not as large as Seville's greatest structure, it was nonetheless a wonderful and comforting sight. The ship docked and unloaded its cargo and I went to collect my pay.

The captain finished counting it out and said, "You're a born seaman, Señor and if you ever wish to sail with me again, it would be my pleasure."

I thanked him and departed. Searching the streets, I found the market and bought a new set of clothes. The few I had brought from Cuba were in tatters and my choice of clothes, among other things, had become more refined.

Searching around the docks, I found myself in front of a tavern. I entered and found its keeper.

"What can I get for you, Señor?" he asked.

I stated my order, a favorite wine of Gomez's.

"You have fine tastes, Señor," the tavern keeper said as he placed it before me.

The tavern's business was light, as it was not yet midday, and the barman was curious about me.

"You are not from Barcelona are you, Señor? You sound as if you come from Seville."

"Your ear is as good as your wine. I was born in a small village just outside of that city."

"Have you just come from Seville? Have you any news?"

"I just came back from the New World and haven't been to my home. In fact, I came here in Barcelona looking for someone. Her name is Maria Zuñiga."

The tavern keeper shook his head. "Sorry, I'm afraid I don't know her."

"I didn't really expect you would. She would never visit a tavern. Even one as fine as this," I added, not wanting to offend. "But please tell me, why did you ask if I had any news from Seville? What is happening there?" I asked, curious.

"You have not heard of the Voyage?" He looked at me in surprise. "You have been away for a while, Señor."

"You are right. I have been away from Spain for a long time and have not heard of this 'Voyage'?"

"The King is sending an expedition to try and find a passage through the New Continent and so reach the Spice Islands. Preparations began almost eighteen months ago."

When I was still in Cuba, I thought. I tried to ask the tavern keeper more about this, but midday patrons were beginning to fill the room, wanting to escape the sun and cool their throats. Before he hurried off, the man did add, "If you have questions about the Voyage, you will have to ask Signore Pigafetta, an Italian noble who is petitioning the King for permission to join the fleet."

"Where can I find him?" I called after him.

"He will be here. He comes everyday around this time." And with that, the tavern keeper bustled off to attend to his other customers.

A voyage to the New World to find a passage to the great western sea. Why does this idea excite me so? I wondered at the time. I had just returned from a long voyage and didn't believe I was ready for another. Besides, I reasoned, I came here to find Maria, not to join an expedition that could very likely get me killed. I could have stayed with Cortés for that.

Yet I stayed there in the tavern, looking for an Italian adventurer.

I nearly fell asleep waiting. The wine was excellent, but stronger than I'd had for some time. Two hours later, I had just decided to leave when, with a loud bang, the door of the tavern was thrown open. A man, maybe thirty years old, strode in.

"Success! Tavern keeper, a round of drinks for everyone!" This exclamation was followed by cheers and applause.

"The King granted your request, Signore Pigafetta?" The tavern keeper asked.

"He did indeed," Pigafetta replied cheerfully. He pulled a letter with the royal seal from his coat. "It took much time to get an audience with your King, but my efforts have been rewarded." He moved toward the bar and ordered the same wine that I was drinking.

"My apologies, Signore, but I am afraid my stock is depleted." Pigafetta's expressive face fell, clearly disappointed. I quickly stepped in.

"I'm afraid I am the cause of the shortage, but I would be honored to share a bottle with a man who has the King's recommendation," I offered.

He brightened again. "You are most generous, señor, and your taste excellent. I am pleased to accept. I am Antonio Pigafetta of Venice," he said with his hand extended.

I took his firm grip and introduced myself as, "Mendoza of Seville."

We had barely sat down and poured the wine when he sprang back up. "A toast to His Most Gracious Majesty, King Charles I of Spain. May his reign be long and prosperous."

"Here, here." The already pleased crowd of sailors and locals lifted their provided glasses and cheered.

"You seem to be most pleased, Signore," I noted.

"Please call me Antonio."

I nodded. "Can you tell me of this expedition you are joining? I returned from the New World this morning and have only just heard of it. Who is leading it?"

"A Portuguese seaman named Ferdinand Magellan," he answered, sipping his wine.

"How did a Portuguese come to lead a Spanish fleet?"

Antonio laughed. "You people seem to like having foreigners lead your expeditions. What about Columbus?"

I couldn't argue with that.

"According to what I've heard," Antonio continued, "it was because he was too honest."

-----

Over the next few days, I searched for Maria in the morning and, at midday, I would meet Antonio at the tavern. I even managed to get him to tell me about Magellan by exchanging a few tales of my time in the New World with him. His thirst for knowledge is as insatiable now as it was then.

"Magellan was born in about 1480, but his parents died when he was around ten." I could sympathize with that. "He is of noble birth," Antonio continued, "and when he was twelve, he became a page to Queen Leonor at the Royal Court of Portugal. Such a position usually serves as a way for sons of nobility to get an education. While there, he learned of the explorers such as Vasco da Gama and others. He also learned navigation."

"He eventually went to sea enlisted as a common sailor and served his country with distinction in India. He was at the taking of Melaka and from India, he eventually made his was to Malacca. In a skirmish there, Magellan acquired the command of caravel that he, himself, had taken from the enemy. It was aboard this vessel that he went on a mysterious journey eastward and, on his return to Malacca, he submitted a report that stated that he had discovered some islands. But he did not claim them for Portugal as he believed they were within Spanish territory." Antonio laughed, "His superior was so angry that he sent Magellan home to be punished by their King."

"Magellan was demoted in rank, his pay was cut in half and he was sent by his King to fight the Moors in Morocco as a soldier. The rewards of honesty, yes? There he was wounded and never quite recovered. To this day, he walks with a limp. His enemies accused him of treason by doing business with the Moors and Magellan was sent home again, but this time to be court marshaled. The charges were eventually dropped, but he might have preferred the rigors of a trial. He was a captain without a ship, a soldier without a command, and worst of all, he now had no access to the King."

"He finally found a way to reach his royal master, by approaching him as a commoner. The King of Portugal was allowing the common to approach him with their requests. As I heard it, Magellan appeared kneeling before his King and recited the record of his accomplishment, battles and wounds. He then requested a raise in pay and rank. King Manual refused. Magellan requested the command of a caravel for a voyage to the Spice Islands. Again, the answer was no. Magellan, still on his knees, said, "Then Sire, may I be permitted to seek service under another Lord?" King Manual, in anger, said, "Serve whom you will, cripple! It is a matter of indifference to me!"

"Magellan went to northern Portugal and began planning this voyage. In Oporto, where Magellan had been staying, he finalized his plans and gained the assistance of two very powerful Spaniards, Diego and Duarte Barbosa. Magellan traveled to Spain with the Barbosa brothers helping him every step of the way. They even provided Magellan with a wealthy wife, Diego's daughter, Beatriz, and arranged an appointment with your King Charles. I do not know what happened in that meeting, but apparently your seventeen-year-old king and the thirty-seven year old sea dog took to each other at once. Your King agreed to give Magellan a fleet and men for his voyage. The expedition has been preparing in Seville since that time. I also know that King Charles is pressing Magellan to start the mission."

"And you have received permission to join this voyage?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, indeed. And as soon as I can find a ship bound for Seville, I will set out. You should come with me," Antonio said congenially. That particular day he had had a little too much to drink. "Magellan will need experienced Spanish sailors. Especially now."

"Why now? I would have thought he would have selected his entire crew by this late date."

"He did but they were almost all Portuguese, including his captains. Powerful men in the royal court found this unacceptable and complained to the King. Magellan has been forced to change almost his entire crew. A sailor, like you, who has been to the New World and has not only seaman skills, but experience in the army, would make you a valuable addition."

I shook my head. "I have things to do here."

"What could be more important than adventure in new lands?"

"My thanks, mi amigo, but I must stay here."

Antonio left the following week.

-----

I continued my search for Maria, but to no avail. I went to the market everyday, wandering the streets asking for Maria. I soon saw that my quest was next to impossible for Barcelona was a huge city. After a month and a half, I was almost ready to give up. My money was beginning to run low and I was going to have to find work in Barcelona, the thought of which still makes me cringe, or put to sea again. Perhaps I should leave Barcelona and join Magellan's fleet. This idea was becoming more and more appealing as the days passed. But how could I have leave without knowing what had happen to Maria?

I wandered back to the tavern around midday one fair day and my path led me past the Cathedral. My mother had been a deeply religious woman, but after her death my father had rarely gone to Seville's great cathedral. Maria tried to keep me from "becoming a heathen" while my father was away, but I was a stubborn boy. Luis had no interest in the Church and Señora Ayala would have found many of the Ten Commandments and other teachings a little uncomfortable. So I, then 19, had rarely ever been in a Cathedral before. I had walked past this holy monument everyday when I was searching and had never given it a second glance. But, today I felt compelled to enter.

The sun streamed through the stained glass windows, bathing the pews and few worshipers in warm, colorful light. All was peaceful and still, the only sounds I could hear were the gentle pleas of prayer. Walking up the aisles, I sat in the front pew and stared up at the altar. I do not know how long I stayed there thinking. It couldn't have been long as I didn't know what answer I was praying for.

I stood up, turned to leave...and nearly ran into a woman standing behind me.

She spoke softly, "When you walked in, I thought I was seeing a vision of your father." She took my hands in hers. "But you are real. Blas! Niño! Oh my boy, you are really here!"

Maria?" She looked different than I remembered her. She seemed younger and more alive than I have seen her since we were taken to Granada. But it was her. She was here. I was home.

-----

Maria lived on the outskirts of the city with her brother's family. They were not wealthy, but lived comfortably. Maria's brother invited me to stay with them and I accepted gratefully. By then my funds were becoming very limited.

As we walked to her brother's home that first day, Maria told me how she had found her family soon after arriving in Barcelona and came to live with them. From them, she learned that my grandfather had indeed died and Luis had collected the inheritance in my name. He had stayed in Barcelona for a long time, spending most of his time, and a lot of money, at the royal court. The thought of him having my fortune and gaining influence at court with it made my skin crawl.

I told her of my adventures and the people I had met; Gomez, Ayala and their troubles, of Cortés's and Gamboa's rivalry. I explained how Yaxche had saved my life and stopped Gamboa. I told her why I decided to leave the army and sailed back to Spain. I also mentioned Antonio Pigafetta and Magellan's voyage.

"I went to the Cathedral as often as I could, praying for you safety. I know now that they were truly needed. That Commander...and Cortés," Maria shuddered. "I am so thankful you are here and that you are safe."

And yet every day that I stayed with Maria and her family, I was troubled. I was going to have to find a way to support myself and I couldn't bring myself to become a common laborer. I knew no one with the power to give me a position of importance and had few options. That left me with going to sea, but then I would have to abandon Maria again. She was so happy having me there, where she didn't have to worry about me. The thought of leaving her again made my heart ache.

I thought of my father then sailing away from everyone he cared for. How could he stand leaving people he loved for such long periods of time? Is it my destiny to also leave everyone and everything I care about?

-----

One night I couldn't sleep, as was becoming my habit. Instead of tossing all night, I decided to go for a walk. I didn't know where I was going and that seemed to be the story of my life to that point. No direction, no course, and nothing to guide me.

I found myself at the door of the tavern. I thought of Antonio and Magellan and I wondered if they were already on their way to the new continent. The tavern's door had shut far earlier in the evening and I moved on. My wandering then led me to the docks of Barcelona and I found the Nuestra Señora de la Luz still berthed there. The night watch called to me as I moved past and I asked him when they sailed. He replied that they sailed tomorrow for Seville. The Fates had placed a choice before me. I could stay or I could leave with the ship in the morning and not have to explain or say goodbye. I looked up the road to the Cathedral, shining in the full moon light. If there was ever a time that I needed guidance it was then.

"Blas," a voice said softly behind me.

"Maria!"

"You want to go to sea again, but can't bring yourself to tell me." I looked at her, shocked that she knew so much. She laughed, a little sadness in her voice. "I have been your "mother" for too long not to know what is in your heart, mi niño. But you are not a child anymore." She laughed softly again. "When you left you weren't even my height, but now my head barely reaches your shoulder." She looked deep into my eyes and said seriously, "You must go to Seville again, find your friend Antonio and join this Magellan." Tears ran down her cheeks as she spoke, making me want to stay even more. But I knew it was the right choice.

"I love you, Maria, mi Madre."

"I love you too," she replied hugging me tight. "I will always pray for you each day in the Cathedral. Farewell, mi niño."

-----

That morning, after I had gathered my few possessions, I went to the Nuestra Señora de la Luz and asked the captain for work. To my joy he gladly agreed.

We sailed around the coast of Spain and reached San Lucar and the mouth of the Guadalquivir River. When we docked in Seville, I was off the ship even before the captain and asked the first sailor I met, "Has Magellan put to sea yet?"

He looked at me as if I were mad and simply replied, "No."

I hurried back on board, sighing with relief, and collected my belongings, my pay and left without another word. I had to find Antonio and I felt sure he would be in one of the seaside taverns. I went from tavern to tavern, asking about the Italian until, four taverns later, I found the one he was frequenting. I ordered our favorite wine and settled in. I didn't wait long before he burst through the doors. Before he made it to the bar, I managed to intercept him. "Signore, would you care to share a drink with me?"

"Mendoza!" he said, shaking my hand so hard I nearly dropped the wine bottle. "How the devil did you get here?" We sat down at a table, filled our glasses and I told him the story. "Well, my friend, I will take you to Magellan."

Talking on our way to the docks, Antonio told me what had been happening since he arrived. King Charles had ordered Magellan to sail within the week. "Your king is anxious for the fleet to set off. We are not fully supplied and will have to put in at San Lucar to get more." The docks were filled with workers, seaman and people going about their business. In the distance, I could see a group of five ships where most of the activity seemed to be centered. What would this outcast Portuguese Magellan be like? I thought, as we neared our destination.

At the gangplank of one of the ships, a man, about Antonio's age, was coiling a long piece of rope. "Enrique!" Antonio called. The man straitened and smiled as Antonio and I approached. This Enrique had the dark skin like that of an Indian, but his facial features seemed different.

"Senhor Pigafetta! You're back early today," Enrique said.

"I ran into a friend I didn't expect to see. I want to introduce him to your master."

Enrique looked me up and down suspiciously. Antonio laughed. "Don't worry, mio amico, he is not a spy, like me, or an assassin. Please, where can I find Magellan?"

"He is in his cabin on board, Senhor," the young man replied, still looking at me skeptically.

"Thank you, Enrique."

Antonio and I moved on and, when we were out of earshot, I asked him, "Who is that Enrique? He looks something like an Indian yet different."

"Yes," Antonio nodded, "he is Magellan's slave, though they act more like father and son rather than master and servant. I've heard it said that Magellan found him among the slave pits of Malacca in the East Indies and bought him to save his life. Ever since, Enrique has always been at the Captain's side."

"And what was that 'spy' business?"

Antonio laughed. "Didn't you know that I was sent by Italy and the Vatican to spy on Magellan and inform them of developments in trade routes? It is common knowledge among the crew."

I shook my head in amusement. "I didn't know, but I should have. You know far too many details about Magellan to be simply an adventurer."

We were on the deck of the Trinidad and had just finished climbing the aft stairs that led to the Captain's cabin, when that very door opened and a man stepped out. He limped foreword to the rail and looked out at the bustling activity aboard the vessel. I knew that this must be Magellan yet his appearance surprised me. A short, heavyset man with a square, weather beaten face, he seemed to have no command presence whatsoever. This was the man who was going to lead us into the unknown?

"Capitano, may I have a word with you?" Antonio asked, and I was surprised at the amount of respect in his voice.

Somehow, Magellan had impressed my friend, this Italian spy, I thought as Magellan turned to face us...and I met his steady gaze. I felt my spine stiffen as my military training told me to stand at attention. His eyes erased every notion I had before. Dark, keen and piercing, although not unkind. You immediately knew looking into them that here was a man used to giving commands and being obeyed. And I instinctively responded. It was all I could do to keep from saluting.

"Well, Senhor Pigafetta, what do you have here?" He walked awkwardly to where we stood, not taking his eyes from me.

"This is Mendoza, a friend of mine and an excellent seaman. He wishes to join your crew, sir."

Magellan raised a hand stopping Antonio from saying anything more. "You are a sailor?"

I nodded. "Sí, Capitán."

"I would have said you were a soldier."

"I was a soldier, Capitán, but have returned to my first love...the sea." I responded, although he said it as a statement, not a question.

"Ah, it was the same for me." Magellan smiled at this and then asked, "Where were you stationed and where have you sailed?"

"My father was a captain and I sailed with him as a boy. He died while I was still young. When I was sixteen, I joined the army and was stationed in Cuba."

Here Magellan interrupted me. "Any skirmishes?"

"A few Captain, but they were not the reason for leaving the military."

"Then what was?"

"A disagreement with my commanding officer." Magellan actually laughed at this and motioned for me to continue. "After that I left the King's army and took work aboard a ship bound for Barcelona."

"Why did you not come with Senhor Pigafetta three months ago if he was your friend?"

"I had unfinished business in Barcelona, Captain."

Reading the expression on my face, Magellan seemed to decide not to pursue his questions any further. He turned to Antonio and said, "This is a change, isn't Senhor Pigafetta. A Spaniard who actually wants to join us." Then he and Antonio laughed. I didn't understand the joke.

I looked at him, hardly daring to breathe. "Capitán, do you mean that I may join your expedition?" His reply was to put out his hand. I shook it gratefully. "Thank you, Captain."

He waved my thanks away. "You may not be thanking me when this voyage is over." Magellan turned his attention away from me. "Senhor Pigafetta, take our new crewman to the Victoria.I think he will prove valuable to her crew."

"Aye, Capitano," Antonio replied. When we were away, he said, "Amazing man, that Magellan. To have come through so much. You can only believe that he is destined to be remembered with Columbus and da Gama when all of this is history." My friend's tone and expression changed from awe to anger. "That is, if we succeed. But if we don't, it won't be Magellan's fault."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "You speak as if the voyage was already in jeopardy."

"I mean that Magellan has many powerful enemies. The most powerful is Bishop Juan Rodriguez de Fonseca. He has been conspiring against Magellan from the moment your King agreed to this voyage. He and his allies hate the captain merely because he is Portuguese and they are Spanish. The long-standing feud between your country and theirs is putting this venture at risk. Magellan had his crew selected long ago, as I told you, before Bishop Fonseca learned they were mostly Portuguese. It was he who complained so loudly that your King forced Magellan to replace them with Spaniards, most of whom deserted soon after. Even the captains that Magellan had chosen were replaced. Fonseca had his own son, Juan de Cartegena, (although he is referred to as his "nephew") named second in command of the fleet and captain of the largest ship, the San Antonio."

We were walking up the gangplank of the Victoria...when the sight of a man standing on the deck of the ship brought me to a choking halt. Antonio continued speaking, not noticing my hesitance, "The other ships, Concepción, Santiago, and Victoria, are also captained by Spaniards. Gaspar de Quesada, Juan Rodríguez Serrano and Luis de Mendoza."

Luis de Mendoza! My uncle! The only man who could still strike fear into my heart was indeed standing before me. And I was going to be sailing on this voyage under his command.

Author's Notes

You probably noticed a lot of foreign words in this chapter. I will use Portuguese, Italian and Spanish titles and small phrases when possible, but the only language I actually have some little knowledge of is Spanish. :D

History: I must say that I am a little biased when it comes to Magellan. I just think he was a fascinating individual who undertook an astonishing enterprise. Modern scholars like to point out that modern space explorers knew much more about the environment they were traveling to in rockets than Magellan and his crew knew about the region they were sailing into. I also have a hearty appreciation for the real Antonio Pigafetta, who one historian described as a 16th century anthropologist. If you read his diary of the voyage, you will understand why. You can almost feel his excitement as he describes the different people that the fleet encounters. But then I am a stuffy historian type myself and find that sort of stuff fascinating anyway.

Reviews make me happy and promote quick chapter updates. ;)