Chapter 102 – On the move again

Thousands of miles away from the nearest shipyard, the sailors worked hard preparing the new top portion of the foremast, stripping and sanding that tree trunk to a smooth finish. But then, without access to a suitable dock adjacent to a crane, they struggled to carry the mast aboard the Santa Eulalia to place it upright at the foremast top, until Diego and chief officer Ojeda designed a rudimentary system of pulleys that used the main mast as an anchor to lift the heavy piece of wood into the desired position. However, the new top was slightly thinner than the original one, and it didn't fit as tightly on the mast cap, requiring some adjustments, like wedging small pieces of wood and tightening the iron rings that secured it to the lower part.

At the foredeck, with his arm still in a sling, Captain Ulloa supervised the installation and the final fitting, hoping the repair would work.

"Will it hold?" the captain asked the sailing master, Cárdenas, the officer in charge of the structural maintenance of the ship.

"Under normal sailing conditions, it will, Sir," Cárdenas said, proudly tapping on the mast. "We're lucky the tabernacle and the lower part of the foremast didn't suffer any structural damage, so the base is solid. For the top, this is the best we can get until we reach the Arsenal de la Carraca in Cádiz."

"Right. Keep going to refit all the rigging now, please, so we can set sail as soon as possible."

"Aye, aye, Sir!"

ZZZ

After the unfortunate death of his only son, only a few weeks ago, the Indian chief took care of his young, pregnant wife. When she went into labour, he had been too close to lose them both, mother and child.

Although he didn't show it, the chief knew he would be eternally grateful to that tall man who had delivered the future leader of the tribe. However, despite all the cooperation and goodwill his men had shown, the Indian leader always had a major goal in mind: to get rid of the white men one way or another so they could carry on with their lives in peace. As a result, when all the rigging of the Santa Eulalia got refitted, and the sailors pulled the anchor, that old man looked only too pleased to see them go.

"We are moving again," Victoria said from her favourite spot at the foredeck, feeling the fresh breeze on her face as the sails caught on wind at the open sea and the ship picked up speed, gently pitching over the waves. "Do you know how that makes me feel?"

"How?" Diego said, fearing the answer. Oh, no. Sick already?

She turned to look at him with such intensity, the message was clear and unequivocal: horny.

"Really?" he whispered, taking her hand to kiss it, showing a cheeky grin. "Again?"

After all their difficulties that led to their official wedding and what followed during that voyage, they had finally entered a period of true honeymoon, when they could not have enough of each other, making love at any chance they had so she could bear his child.

Victoria nodded, showing a similar smile of complicity while caressing his hand.

Soon, they made some excuses and headed for their berth, while Doña Margarita stayed on deck, enjoying the views.

"I'll see you later, mi niña," she said with a knowing smile. Madre de Dios, at this rate, that sweet little thing will be pregnant again in no time at all!

ZZZ

After another session of intense love making, Victoria relaxed in bed while Diego massaged her back. The gentle rocking of the ship, rather than making her feel as sick as before, made her quite sleepy now, willing to enjoy a mid-morning siesta.

"Mmmm… that feels so gooooood…" she said, rather drowsy, loving it.

When Diego pushed her hair out of the way to massage her shoulders, he stopped to stroke the scar at the top of her back, the one she got when Ramón hit her with a whip.

"I'm so sorry you were left with this scar forever. Every time I see it, I can't help thinking I should have killed that vile man when I had the chance. And then, I invariably think that if I had… Esteban would still be alive."

"Please, don't torture yourself about that again. Please. You don't know that…" Victoria said, turning around on her back so he would stop looking at the scar, giving up on the massage. "Your cousin could have got in trouble again anytime over the past few months, challenging someone to a duel, or the seizures could have got worse, and then…" she started, but never finished that line of thought. "Please, forget about my scar, don't worry about it. I can't see it, and have tried hard to forget about it myself, but you always remind me of its existence."

"Sorry, you're right. Forgive me. I can't help it, because unlike you, I can see it, and I can't help but hating Ramón for what he did. But I shouldn't bring this up anymore, because it's pointless. I shouldn't drag the past out into our lives like this."

He rested his head on her inviting, naked bosom, feeling at home while listening to her heartbeats. She gently stroked his dark hair then as she talked, like a loving, wise mother would do.

"We'll be at Madrid soon. And you'll show Esteban's letter to your aunt and uncle. That will make you feel better about it."

"Yes, it will. And with a little bit of luck, we'll have good news to tell them," he said, lifting his head to kiss her abdomen. "Do you think it worked this time?"

"Gosh… I don't know. Should we make sure?" she said, insatiable, like a woman on a mission.

"You wicked, wicked, woman… You're going to drain me dry, aren't you?" he whispered, finding her mouth one more time, coming together for another, endless kiss.

ZZZ

The repair of the foremast was a success, and the ship continued travelling north at good speed, reaching Río de la Plata only three weeks behind schedule. During a brief stop at Montevideo, where they exchanged some cargo and more passengers got on board, the sailors found out the infamous Burla Negra had attacked another five vessels the previous month, but the pirates had been quiet ever since. While the whole crew hoped De Soto had moved to another area, the Santa Eulalia continued travelling along the coast to reach Brasil.

Captain Ulloa had recovered quite well from his injury, taking as much rest as he needed on the reclining deck chairs. As a result, those seats had become firm favourites during his breaks, and he had got used to share the space with Diego, engaging in long conversations with him while smoking his pipe, something that greatly deepened their friendship. One morning, after they had left behind Cabo Blanco and now headed north-east across the Atlantic towards Cabo Verde, they enjoyed an early cup of coffee while touching a very personal subject: love and women.

"It would not be fair on my missus. As the saying goes: a woman waits for me at every port," Ulloa said when Diego asked him why he never got married.

"Somehow, I don't think that's the case. You don't look the part."

"Don't burst my bubble, De la Vega. That looks better that admitting I'm a lone wolf who doesn't get any!"

"That's not totally true either. Let's see… You spent two days ashore at Montevideo, and when you returned, you had…" Diego said with an amused smirk, pointing at his neck, such was his level of complicity with the captain now.

"What?"

"Well, you know… Let's call them love marks. You had a few, and you looked unusually happy. Who is she?"

"I can't believe this… Do you ever stop noticing everything that happens around you?" Ulloa said, pretending to be cross, lifting his cup with both hands to blow some air over the hot, dark liquid. "Jesus, you're not human!"

Diego looked at the captain, waiting for an answer, but as it never came, he asked again.

"What's her name? At least tell me her name."

"Isabel," Ulloa said after a while. Then, he kept silent a bit longer, finishing his cup of coffee, until he decided it wouldn't really matter if he shared that part of his life with the man sitting beside him. He cleared his throat, leaving the empty cup on the wooden floor, and then, continued. "All right, if you must know, blooming busybody, I was in love once, in my youth. I was 16, and she was the love of my life, the one and only for me, but she married my older brother instead, somehow a better prospect than me at the time, or so she thought..."

"Oh, no. That's too bad. Victoria is also my childhood sweetheart, my one true love. I don't know what I would have done if she had married another man, because she was quite close a few times."

"Why didn't you marry her sooner then? Why waiting so long?"

"Long story, for another time. But please, continue with yours."

"Obviously, I couldn't stand it, so I enrolled in the Navy to get away from them and that place, and never looked back. My father was also a sailor, and just like me, he spent long periods at sea, away from home for months or even years at a time. That made my mother pretty miserable, and even more when his ship sank on its way to the Philippines, wrecked by a typhoon, and she was left on her own with three children to take care of. She had a hard life, that woman. I don't want to have a wife wasting away her life at home as my mother did, waiting for my return, or falling in the arms of another man as a result of that loneliness… Nah, I'm married to the sea instead. That's easier. But I respect the efforts of married seamen, like Ojeda, or Almeida. They have more things to worry about than I will ever do."

"But, what about that Isabel? Any chances with her?"

"Well, she is the closest thing I have ever found to my sister-in-law, but… it's the story of my life: she's married to another man, another sailor. For her, I'm the other man she uses as comfort every time I show up at Montevideo, while she waits for her husband. And I can't complain, really, as I am the sinner here, and I've never been unfortunate enough to meet him and make a scene," he said, melancholic, shrugging his shoulders. "But, let's talk about you now: have you got your lovely wife pregnant again yet? Because… boy, you're making a good effort!"

Diego smiled. And it was obvious that he had.

"As you once said, she looks motherly. Si Dios quiere, a baby will suit her arms soon."

"Congratulations! I really hope you don't lose your child again."

"Thank you. She's taking some herbs I got at Montevideo to help with the pregnancy, and she's got so used to sailing now, she's not so sick this time around."

"Wonderful," Ulloa said rather absently while staring at the vast ocean that surrounded them. Next, he covered the sun glare with his hand, as he concentrated in a particular spot towards the blinding, rising ball of fire, until he stood up, suddenly looking worried, using his catalejo to scan the far side of the ocean.

Why, God? What else do you want from me?! Ulloa though when he saw the pirate ship heading in their direction, shaking his head in disbelief.

"¡Maldita sea mi mala suerte, joder!" he burst out then.

"That's wrong?" Diego said, alarmed when he saw the captain so upset, swearing like that.

"A black ship, coming from the south-east!" Ulloa said, handing him the spyglass. "It's coming this way, and it's coming fast! It must be the Burla Negra. Goddamit!"

Diego took the spyglass. The ship Ulloa had spotted looked like a tiny dot, far, far away, nearly invisible to the naked eye, but not so much with the help of that optical tool.

"Are you sure? How do you know that ship is…

"Ojeda! Who the hell is on watch?!" Ulloa cried, snatching the spyglass from Diego's hands as he ran to the bridge.

"… la Burla Negra?" Diego finished the sentence to himself. And as he did so, with a sinking feeling in his guts, he knew the captain was right: Benito de Soto was finally coming their way, and as they were crossing the Atlantic, they had nowhere to hide but blue water all around.

Dammit! I should have never interfered with his crazy luck rituals!

ZZZZZ

A.N. – thank you very much for your nice reviews, guys. Always appreciated.

(And… keep them coming, please! Keep me happy so the Muse stays on track and I can finish this off at last!)