Chapter Two: The Price of Revenge
The warm Caribbean wind blew freely in the sails, but the muggy air drew sweat from Iggy's brow. The humid, tropical temperature during the days was the only thing he disliked about the Gulf of Mexico and the new world. Also, it did not help his headache that he still had a hangover from the previous night of celebration. But aside from that, he loved everything there was to offer in this foreign world; he loved the freedom; he loved the opportunities; he loved the beautiful islands…and he also loved that he could easily set up ambush points for the Spanish ships wishing to return to King Phillip II with mounds of gold. God, he despised that king and did everything within his power to annoy him with news of yet another destroyed or sunken ship. The king was so idiotic that he would order for the ships to haul back more gold than they could carry, so naturally, Iggy would take advantage of the slow-moving ships, reaping the goods. Iggy also didn't appreciate the rudeness Phillip displayed towards his beloved Queen Elizabeth. In accordance to her wishes, and a Letter of Marque, he became a privateer for her royal highness in order to fraught him outside the games of the courtroom…but piracy was a better suited word for it. She didn't care what heinous deeds he committed as long as he brought more gold and silver back to fill their economy and rival the ever-growing wealth of Spain. In exchange for the work, his queen would build up his good reputation for him under a pretense.
This evening particularly was going to offer a chance for a beneficial raid. There were rumors of a large shipment deporting from the Virgin Islands leaving that very evening. Yes, a new dress would look extraordinary on you, my queen, Iggy imagined himself saying upon seeing her smiling face at the news, as he would bend down to kiss her hand with a devilish grin. This helpful tip came from a reliable source and cost the life of one of Captain Kirkland's best spies. But his death was not needless – he would be avenged this very night! His sacrifice was meaningful to the cause, Iggy convinced himself to ease the guilt. In avertedly the blame had to fall on that damned Carriedo who would suffer greatly in the name of the English Crown!
Antonio Carriedo's feet seemed to glide across the yellow deck. His dark, messy hair was freely waving in the salty air and his wide grin was spread across his brownish, glowing face. "Ha ha, avast, amigo!" He was playfully sparring with one of the deckhands, Juan, for practice. He was unrivaled in skill wielding his sharp, silver cutlass. Deckhands were not much of a challenge, but he also wanted to teach them a few skills in the process – they would gasp and clap in amusement while watching, drawing straws to see who would face the captain next.
Juan lunged at Antonio's right side, but it was easily parried, knocking the other sword from his opponent's hand. It landed with a loud 'clink' on the hard wooden floor board and was followed by laughter from the other sailors. They handed around their wages as Juan caught his breath. Carriedo knew that Kirkland would be a more formidable opponent than his crew was and more capable from experience. Truthful, they had only dueled once in the heat of battle, and Antonio was anxious for that sort of challenge once again. After all, that English pirate had been successful in knocking Antonio off his proverbial feet of late. He had to be careful.
Antonio's brow crinkled in anger only slightly at the thought of his rival, an expression rare for anyone to see on his face, but it was back to his normal, calm expression in only a second. No one had noticed him act out of character. Juan was standing behind Antonio, disappointed at his loss and the fact that he had stumbled from losing his grip. The Spanish captain wasn't so heartless as to keep his shipmate in suspense as he lost himself in thought of his rival for a moment. He slid his boot under the hilt of the fallen blade and kicked it up towards the defeated Juan who caught it correctly. Antonio had to admit the young man had some raw talent, "see, amigo? Usted ahora fuerte! Mucho practice y es el expertos!"
"Si, mi Capitain!" Juan grinned, even though he had lost, because he had fun and Antonio had treated him with respect despite his loss.
"Comma on, whydda stop, eh?!" Lovino called from his perch on top the side of the ship's rail, holding on to the rope net, "you eh couldda beaten thata smelly pig, el Capitano!" he swung his fist in the air when he said that.
Antonio looked over at the half-joking, half-serious, rambling of the miniature Italian who acted as if he was witnessing a boxing match. He smiled, "Que? What es the fun en dat?" he side-smirked at Lovino, "there es not always shame en defeat. Pride can be found en humility as well, Lovi."
Lovino pouted and crossed his arms. "Thatta makes eh no sense, dumbass. You're just a pussycat," he complained. Some of the sailors snickered under their breaths, not at the snide remark or in agreement, but at the little Italian's difficult nature and mature opinions on things.
The captain shook his head and smiled knowingly, but he then tilted his head to the side as if curious, "oh really? Is that so?" He gestured towards Juan's sword, "permiso?" Juan handed it over. He flashed a grin at Lovino. "Well then, little Tomate," he stepped closer to the rail Lovino was sitting on, "care to try your hand?" He tilted the sword's handle towards Lovino, holding the hilt and the blade as if he were presenting it to him.
Lovino's eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows, staring in disbelief. "Cosa? Mi?"
"Si, if you want it," Antonio nodded and moved his hands up more, offering it again.
Slowly, Lovino uncrossed his arms and then hopped down from the rail. He stood still for a second, then he walked over to where Antonio and the other adults were standing. He widely stared at the large sword being gently presented to him. His small, trembling, olive-colored hands reached up to take the heavy hand-guard. Whispering to himself in freight, in a tone the others couldn't hear, he said, "damn you…don'te be a cardardo in front of the others…"
But before Lovino could grab the sword, there was a shout from the crow's nest up top the main mast post, "El Capitain! We have reached de islands!"
Antonio dropped his hand, the sword along with it, to meet his side, dangling. "Que? Well dehn, everyone prepare le Triunante for her next haul! This time, England won't stop us. Pronto!" He hurried off to help the crew prepare the ship and drop anchor, leaving Lovino heartbroken.
Every time Captain Carriedo paid special attention to Lovino, just when Lovino put aside his pride and admired him the most, something would intrude upon that moment. And usually that 'something' was gold. He wished Antonio would just forget about his duties for once and live for himself. Only a short time with him was all Lovino wanted…a time to share with the only man whom he considered to be a father or at least a big brother. But no, either that gold got all the attention or it was that freaking bastard pirate from England. Lovino kicked a wooded barrel and ran below decks to offer himself some solitude. He couldn't let the sailors she him cry. 'He is a tough kid,' they would all say, but inside he felt weak and he knew he was a coward.
The sun was starting to turn an orange-reddish hue in the sky, but the clouds were few and scattered. The Spanish captain wiped his brow. Everyone had taken a hand in loading the heavy cargo on board. The last few ship raids had deprived the Spanish economy of its reliance on expected goods. This shipment was to be the restoring factor to the quick over usage back home.
In his heart, Antonio worried that the demand for more gold and silver would only crush his economy from the inside with inflation, but he obeyed his greedy king's wishes along with those sometimes heartless demands of his people. He sighed and wished for the best. He would worry more if the problem was currently looking him in the face and threatening him; for now, he had to worry about getting this ship and her crew back home safely.
He was unaware of a certain jolly-good Englishman spying on him, always one step ahead.
Usted ahora fuerte! Mucho practice y es el expertos = (something like) you are strong now! With practice and you'll be an expert (sorry, but I am terrible! lol)
Permiso = permission, Que= what, Tomate= tomato, Cosa= what (Italian), Cardardo= coward (Italian)