Chapter 99 – Calm down. It's going to be all right

Diego could not believe it. One second they were on their own at the beach, and the next they were surrounded by six native men carrying bows and arrows, spears, and other rudimentary weapons, all aiming at him. Men who had materialized out of nowhere, and so silently he hadn't noticed them approaching, not at all.

These sneaky weasels caught me totally unaware, almost with my pants down! How the hell did they do that?

Embarrassed, humiliated, and thoroughly angry with himself and with the unfair situation, Diego lifted his hands slowly, avoiding any harsh moves. Victoria, on the other hand, couldn't stand still, and fussed about while trying to get dressed quickly, equally mortified and scared to death.

"Victoria, please, calm down. Don't move," he said slowly, in a neutral tone.

"Don't move? Diego, I'm half-naked here!"

The man aiming at his face said something in his language, and then pointed the arrow to Diego's trousers, to the tenting underwear that showed through the open fly, containing his only available "friendly weapon". The other warriors laughed, highly amused by the situation, while Diego's face flushed red due to the unbearable mix of anger and humiliation, because no matter how dangerous the situation looked, that stubborn erection refused to go away.

Then, another man talked in a quite threatening tone, barking orders that Diego could not follow, as he couldn't understand a word.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand you," he said very slowly, with his hands still up, stressing every syllable.

Not surprisingly, the Indian didn't understand him either, so he shouted his orders again, and in the end, as Diego didn't move, he grabbed his open white shirt by the collar, pulled him up, and then pushed him forward, away from Victoria. Then, he did the same with her, pulling her off the sand to stand up.

After a quick assessment of the situation, measuring his rather short, but vigorous and fierce opponents, Diego reckoned that fighting back would very likely result in a nasty injury from one of those arrows or spears, for him and for his beloved, so he didn't offer any resistance when they shoved them forward to walk over the rocks, heading for the woodland.

"All right, all right. We are going," Diego said, following the guide, with Victoria by his side.

ZZZ

Almeida and four other sailors arrived at the old Spanish Fort, armed with rifles and guns.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, can I have your attention, please?" the boatswain said, addressing the passengers after they gathered at the patio. "The captain has ordered your immediate return to the ship. He considers it's not safe for you to stay at the fort, because it could cause a conflict with the Indians in the area."

"What Indians? We haven't seen any Indians. And the Primer Oficial said it would be safe for us to stay here while you repair the damn ship!" Don Enrique Salamero, a grumpy, rich and influential caballero from Madrid, said. "First the storm, and now this nonsense. Can't this moronic crew do anything right?"

Almeida, who was a decent, hardworking man of humble origins and zero tolerance for that kind of snotty arrogance, stared at that gentleman as if about to punch him in the eye, but before he could do that, the empathic Doña Margarita got in the way to thwart a physical confrontation with that powerful, well-connected man, that could only be detrimental for the sailor.

"The captain said that? Is he all right then?

"Yes, ma'am, he is awake now, thanks for asking."

"Thank God for that! It was time."

"Yes, it was," Almeida said, still glaring at Don Enrique. In the end, reconsidering the possible consequences, he gave up on expressing with his fist his opinion about that vile comment. "Vamos, everybody back to the ship, please. No exceptions."

"We'll take them," the second mate said, signalling the other sailor who was already at the fort with him. "You do what you have to do, bos'n," he added, looking at all the weapons Almeida and his men carried, not sure of its purpose.

"Don Diego de la Vega and his wife are not here," Doña Margarita said then, sharing her concern for the couple. "They went for a stroll a while ago, and they haven't returned yet."

"Anybody else's missing?" Almeida counted the passengers and compared with the list the second mate had. Only the De la Vegas were missing. "No? Well then, everybody: grab your belongings and return to the ship." As nobody moved, he had to add a booming: "NOW!"

"If you want me back on that ship, carry my luggage then, muchacho," the pettish, rich caballero said, too full of himself, ignoring the fact Almeida wasn't a servant boy but a grown-up, hot-blooded man in his thirties, already on edge, and at that moment, carrying several firearms.

Doña Margarita, still standing between the two men, looked at the contramaestre and shook her head, with a "not worth it" warning written all over her face. Almeida took a deep breath and made a huge effort to bite his tongue, trying to keep his cool. Only then, he answered in a quiet tone:

"No, you can carry it yourself, or you can leave it here. Your choice, señor. In the meantime, while you decide, I'm going to find Don Diego."

"Do you know who I am?" Don Enrique roared, puffing his chest. Almeida looked at him from head to toe and back up again, as if truly considering the question for a grand total of… Yeah, maybe three seconds.

"No. And frankly, Don Whoever, I don't give a damn."

Almeida headed for the main gate, followed by the four sailors with weapons, who could not contain their laughter.

ZZZ

Meanwhile, in los Angeles, Felipe enjoyed a new riding lesson with Pablo. For weeks, he had been riding Toronado regularly, with all his tack, and now he would try without a saddle for the first time.

"Remember: relax, and don't hold onto him too tightly with your legs. There's no need for that," Pablo said, adjusting the bridle. "You have a good seat on the saddle, so just keep contact with his back at all times, following his movement with your hips, and you'll be fine."

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Pablo?" Don Alejandro said. He always watched the riding lessons with interest, from a side, and today was no exception. "Azabache is so strong, and so fast…"

Felipe nodded, tapping his chest.

"It's his idea, not mine," Pablo said, shrugging his shoulders. "He insisted."

"Yes, but we are the adults in charge here," Don Alejandro said, frowning. Since when the youngsters like Felipe had the last word on anything? "Felipe, please, I don't think that you should —"

Before he could finish the sentence, Felipe grabbed Toronado's mane, sprang up onto his back with a gracious leap, as Zorro would do, and with a gentle touch of his heels, they set off at a brisk canter.

"Hey! Come back here!" Don Alejandro said, walking a few steps towards them, before he gave up on that pointless chase. "It could be dangerous!"

Pablo laughed. "You're going to have fun raising that lad, boss. You have another mini-Zorro in the making!"

"Please, don't say that!" Don Alejandro said, pretending to be upset, but proud as a peacock. "I'll age before my time if he follows his steps!"

"He certainly takes after Don Diego."

"Yes, you're right, he does. A chip of the old block... By the way, I wonder what my son is doing right now. They should be half way through their sailing trip. I bet that fast ship has doubled Cape Horn already, hopefully without any trouble."

"Whatever your son is doing, I'm sure he has the situation under control," Pablo said, watching the youngster galloping in circles, in total harmony with the horse. "Like Felipe. Look at him! A natural."

ZZZ

Pablo had no way of knowing, but Diego didn't have the situation under control; quite far from it. The Indians kept poking him with their weapons so he would move forward, deep into the forest. At least, on a positive note, his little soldier had stopped staying at attention, and they had allowed him to close his fly, reducing his embarrassment one notch.

"Diego, where are they taking us?" Victoria said, increasingly frightened the longer they walked into that forest.

"To their village, I presume," he answered, all the time on full alert now, registering every single move of the Indians.

"What do they want from us?"

"I don't know, but don't worry: if they wanted to kill us, we would be dead already."

"I know you want to comfort me with that kind of comment, but it's not working!"

Diego held her hand then, trying to reassure her.

"Calm down. It's going to be all right."

ZZZ

Almeida and his men followed the track of footprints left behind by Diego and Victoria. The prints led to a beach, quite far away from the fort, but ended abruptly into the water, caught by the high tide.

"Don Diego!" Almeida called. "Don Diego de la Vega!"

Nobody answered. They searched the area, over the rocks, but they couldn't find them, or any trace of them. They had disappeared, probably into the forest, or further along the coast, but now, with the high tide, they couldn't continue searching for them.

"Where the hell are they?" Almeida said. "Where did they go?"

"A young couple? I have a few ideas of the where, the why… and the how," one of the sailors said, grinning while looking at the others.

"Heck, I know exactly where I'd go and what I'd do with that pretty lady if she was mine!" said another one. They all laughed, except the boatswain, the only one who had had direct contact with the De la Vegas, thinking he owed them some respect.

"If that's the case, it's none of your business," he said, serious, preparing the rifles. "While they return, let's practice shooting at long and medium range. I believe you are our best marksmen, so I want you to concentrate and make every shot count. If we ever get attacked by those bloody pirates, the more you can hit before they board us, the better. And please, don't hesitate: shoot to kill."

Almeida hung a few targets from the nearby trees and bushes, and the men started shooting, trying to hit them, reloading their weapons as fast as they could between rounds.

ZZZ

Victoria was having a hard time, and the only positive thing for her at that point was that, with the fear and the uncertainty, she wasn't dizzy anymore.

Those men have caught them "in the act", in a very embarrassing way that would surely haunt her for the rest of her life, and now they were taking them hostage. And Diego was so calm about it!

"Calm down," he said, squeezing her hand. "It's going to be all right."

"How the hell can you be so casual about this, Diego?" she cried then, somehow annoyed at his lack of anxiety. But after all, he was only showing his Zorro, self-confident side, sure.

One of the Indians shouted something then, that probably meant "Shut up!", so they carried on walking in silence for another half an hour. At least, they let Diego hold her hand, probably sensing she could give them trouble if not kept on a short leash.

Finally, they arrived at an Indian village. Smiley kids came closer to greet them, while the adults just looked at them from the distance, with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. The children and some young women looked specially intrigued by Victoria's pleated skirt, which they stroked with dirty hands, feeling the texture.

The warriors kept poking Diego's back gently but firmly with their sharp, pointy weapons, causing the odd, superficial nick on his skin, leaving traces of blood on his white shirt. To avoid any deeper wounds, he let go of Victoria's hand and carried on advancing towards the largest hut, leaving her behind, surrounded by that little crowd.

"Diego! Don't leave me!"

"You'll be all right, don't worry. I guess they want to take me to their leader, or something."

The young women got increasingly bolder, touching her hair and her blouse as well, getting Victoria on edge.

"Get off me!" she cried, but the women carried on chatting among themselves, obviously commenting on her goods. It was unnerving, but at least they looked friendly.

ZZZ

The warriors made Diego stop by the entrance of the big hut, and pushed his shoulders down so he would kneel on the dusty ground. Most of the Indians in that village gathered around, expectantly. Then, an older Indian came out of the hut and walked slowly around Diego, measuring him, until he stopped in front of him.

"¿Quién tú eres?" the man said in a broken Spanish, taking Diego by surprise, until he realized he must have learned it from the soldiers at the fort at some point in the past.

"Me llamo Diego de la Vega. ¿Y tú?"

The Indian chief ignored his question, and carried on talking in his peculiar Spanish.

"What you want?"

"Me? I don't want anything. We were… Aaah... Yes. Interrupted. At the beach. We were…"

The Indian who had pointed to his face with the arrow, and then to his groin, told everybody what they were doing, including a physical demonstration, thrusting a few times with his hips. Everybody in the village laughed, even the toddlers, by imitation.

Yes, that, thank you, Diego thought, self-conscious, tired of the joke already. The chief didn't flinch, serious, concerned with more pressing matters.

"Ship. Why here?"

Right then, Diego heard a desperate cry inside that large hut. It sounded like a woman in labour, and in trouble. As nobody paid any attention to her screams, Diego figured it must have been going for a while, so he carried on answering the questions.

"The ship got damaged in a storm. We need to repair it so we can continue our journey."

"Ship must go. Now."

"We can't. I told you: it's damaged. We need a long, straight piece of wood to fix the broken mast, and we can't find any around here."

"Mast?" the chief said.

"Is the long wooden pole that holds the sails. Like… a tall tree? But the trees in this forest are not tall enough to make a new one."

The chief looked at him with a deadpan face.

"Go, like soldiers did. Or kill you. All. Start with you."

Diego swallowed hard. That stubborn man wasn't very understanding. While they talked, the woman kept crying, and Diego couldn't ignore it any longer.

"Is she all right?"

"Not your problem."

"Maybe I could help. How long has she been in labour?"

The chief didn't answer, but Diego could see concern in his eyes.

"Can I have a look at her?"

The chief shook his head, and repeated: "not your problem."

The woman continued wailing inside the hut. It was unnerving, and Diego felt he had to do something. Before embarking on that ship, he had read a few chapters on obstetrics in his books, just in case. He didn't have the knowledge and skills of Doctor Hernández, of course, but he would probably be of more help than any shaman in that tribe. After all, if Victoria was the one in trouble instead of that unknown woman, he would have appreciated anybody with the slightest medical knowledge helping her.

He tried to stand up, but the warriors immediately aimed at him with their pointy weapons, so he stood still, with his hands up.

"Seriously, maybe I could help her. I'm a… medicine man."

"Medicine man…" the chief said slowly, as if considering his options. "How you help?" he said after a while.

"I don't know yet. Let me see her first."

The old man said three words, signalling the warriors. They pulled Diego up, and took him into the hut.

"If you hurt her, you die," the chief said, dead serious, following them.

All right, no pressure there, Diego thought, approaching the woman. She looked young, frightened, and was squatting by a rudimentary bed on the floor, panting, wailing, pushing, and obviously suffering, with two concerned, older women by her side. That baby wasn't coming.

An old shaman was also there with her, softly chanting while burning some herbs; remedies that so far had done nothing to help the unfortunate young woman, if ever.

Diego looked around while rolling his sleeves up, but decided that asking for a bowl with clean water to wash his hands was out of the question.

"Excuse me," Diego said, crouching down, positioning himself close to her rear end so he could have a look. The scared woman looked at him as if he was the devil, and before he could touch her, she lay on the bed with her legs firmly closed, while the shaman sent him a killer look for stepping into his turf.

The chief kneeled by the woman and talked to her softly, stroking her sweaty hair. She looked back at Diego with frightened eyes wide open, and then spread her legs apart obediently, so he could have a look.

"I need to examine her. I don't want to hurt her, but… I'll probably do. I'm so sorry."

Diego made her lie down on the bed with her legs bent and spread wide apart, and gently got his hand into the woman's birth canal. She screamed in pain, so the joking warrior pointed his arrow at Diego's face again, ready to shoot.

"I'm sorry! There is no other way!" Diego said, lifting his now bloodied hand up. The chief also looked upset, as if about to give the order to send him to heaven. Diego talked fast then, trying to make him understand the situation. "I told you I don't want to hurt her, but she has to relax! Tell her to relax, please. The baby is breech, and there is no way your wife can give birth unless I reposition that baby's body. Do you understand?"

The chief looked at him again, narrowing his eyes, upset. Then he talked to the young woman one more time. The warrior with the arrow backed off a bit, still watching Diego closely.

"Is this her first baby?"

The chief nodded, in silence.

"I need my wife here to help me, please."

The chief said something, and soon enough, Victoria was dragged inside the hut.

"Diego, what are you doing?" she whispered when they let go of her, by his side, totally on edge.

"Helping this woman to give birth."

"But you don't know how to do that!"

"I read some books out of curiosity the moment I found out you were expecting, just in case. And actually, this feels quite similar to turning a lamb inside a fractious ewe."

"You can't be serious!"

But he was, by the worried look on his face when he stared at her, no longer keen on softening the truth for her comfort, as he did before.

"Victoria, either I get this baby off this woman, or they are going to put that blooming arrow thought my head. Get praying, and help me here, please."

ZZZ

From his privileged position on deck, sitting on that canvas chair, Ulloa watched how the rowing boat returned the passengers to the ship. Don Enrique Salamero, who had been a thorn in his backside since he got on board at Valparaíso, was already arguing with the second mate when they arrived.

"This is a disgrace! I refuse to be confined in my cabin while those loafers make a hell of a racket with their hammers for days on end. I have my rights! I won't tolerate this!"

Ulloa thanked all the saints in heaven when the obnoxious man returned to his cabin with his luggage as soon as he got on board, despite his empty threats, not spotting him on deck. Letting out a long sigh, Ulloa closed his eyes and continued sunbathing and enjoying the cool breeze on his face while sipping the hot coffee.

Sitting on that comfortable chair, snug and cosy under the banket, was total bliss for the captain. For a moment, he got to think that maybe he should get sick more often. But as the saying goes: "be careful what you wish because you just may get it."

ZZZZZ