A.N. – Here I go again with another stupidly long chapter, months after the last one. I won't say "we are nearly there" because that always goes wrong. Specially not now, when I just added a few, totally unnecessary new characters after a reader requested to be included in the story, or at least, her name (yes, that's you, Katie. I hope it cheers you up a bit.) So, I got carried away with the creation of new characters and I included a few more as a homage to some of my reviewers, like Marta and Mary-Jo. (Why not? After all, this is a never-ending story… Anything goes here, even random requests!)
I also hope the account of the naval battle makes any sense, because I'm making it all up, probably selling BS on how they manoeuvre the ships, but… nothing as lame as some of the dumb moves and plots they used sometimes in the series! (Like all the episodes with pirates, and travelling to France on vacation in two weeks, for example… I think I already nagged about those things many times before.)
I'll try to post the next chapter soon, if real life lets me indulge in the writing. For now, enjoy reading this one. And, as always: please, take a few seconds to leave a review if you can. Thanks.
Chapter 106 – Into the fray
Back at the passenger's dining room, now the women's assembly point, Victoria looked at the other frightened, upset females. Among them, she spotted the Hidalgos, the last passengers to come on board at Montevideo, and Mary-Jo, a young woman with a toddler in her arms, a delightful little girl who had been spoiled rotten by the passengers and crew since they came on board at Buenos Aires.
Marta Hidalgo was a 52-year-old Spanish woman travelling back to Madrid with her much older husband José, who suffered from debilitating arthritis and a chronic lameness, and with their grandchildren, Katie and Terrance, 13-year-old twins, now orphans after their mother and her Irish husband died from typhoid fever only a few months ago.
Victoria smiled at the toddler, and then at the family, nodding to Marta, wondering why her husband hadn't joined the men.
"Officer, if you don't mind, I'll stay with the women at the cargo hold," José Hidalgo said when Ojeda arrived at the dining room. "I won't be of much help out there with this leg, but if you give me a loaded gun, I'll make sure that, if the bastards find us first, Doña de la Vega will have enough time to set that gunpowder barrel off."
"I'm afraid we don't have enough guns and swords for everyone on board, but I think that's a good idea. Let me get you a spare weapon."
Ojeda left the dining room to find Almeida, who was at the mess deck, distributing all the available weapons from the armoury among the passengers and the crew. When he returned, the first officer handed the old man a musket, a handful of iron balls, and a bag of gunpowder.
"I'm sorry, but this rusty old thing is the only firearm we can spare."
"That would do," José said, taking the musket. "Thank you."
The group followed Ojeda to the cargo hold. Following the captain's instructions, hidden alongside the wooden crates, the sailors had prepared a small space that resembled a prison cell, where the women could lock themselves up for the next few hours, until they found out the outcome of the battle. Inside that cell, they had food, water, blankets, a few of the canvas deck chairs, a bucket to use as toilet, and the most disturbing and ominous item of all: a gunpowder barrel, placed right in the middle of it all, fitted with a very short wick.
"You must keep that flame alive, Doña de la Vega, ready to use it if you must, but please, stay away from that barrel until the last moment," Ojeda said to Victoria, who would be the person in charge of setting off the explosion if needed, handing her a burning oil lamp, spare candles, and a flint set.
"Sorry, I forgot," Victoria said, exchanging the lamp and candles for the Jolly Rogers. "My husband asked me to give you this. It's a pirate flag. Be careful, the paint is almost dry, but not yet."
"A pirate flag? What for?" Ojeda said, perplexed, taking the folded piece of black tinted cloth.
"My husband and the captain know about it. Just take it to them, please."
"All right, I will. Now, one more thing: there is a padlock for the door, and here is the key," Ojeda said, handing the lock and key to Marta, the closest woman to his left. "As an extra precaution, you should keep the door closed until you know the outcome."
"What should we do if the ship gets hit and this deck starts to flood?" Marta asked, taking the items offered.
Ojeda looked down, to his feet, uncomfortable with that question. Then, he looked at Marta in the eye, and, the same as the captain had done before, he didn't try to sugar-coat it to make it any easier.
"Then you'll have to choose between two evils: come outside, and risk getting captured or killed… or stay here and drown." Many of the already upset women gasped then, with the officer's words adding to their shock. After that, Ojeda carried on, giving in to his own pessimistic mood. "To be honest, try not to think about that possibility too much, because if this deck floods, the whole ship will sink, eventually, so we'll all die, no matter what."
"Let's pray so that doesn't happen," Marta said, taking Katie's hand to enter the hideout. All the other distressed women followed them, and so did José, but Terrance was quite reluctant to do so, stopping by the door.
"Why do I have to stay here? I want to fight with the men, grandpa!"
"I know you do, but you can't, Terrance. Didn't you hear what the officer said? There aren't enough weapons for the adults to use, let alone for the boys. They can only spare this old piece with us," José said, showing him the rusty musket.
"I don't care! I want to help, even if I don't have a gun! I'll use a kitchen knife, or even my teeth if I have to!"
Ojeda was moved by the kid's bravery, and wanted to take him to the upper deck with the men, because some of the younger members of the crew were barely older than him, but his abuelo José was right: it would be pointless to give him a weapon instead of giving it to an adult, and the boy didn't know anything about sailing to be of any help as a shipboy or grumete. But then, he had an idea.
"If you want to help, there is something you could do, which would be very useful for everybody, although probably quite unpleasant for you: help our doctor at the cockpit, to treat the wounded. Can you handle that, Son?"
"Yes! I want to do anything that may help my sister and my grandparents!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!"
The boy walked into the bolthole to hug and kiss his sister and his grandparents, who proudly wished him luck. Then, he took the lock from Marta's hands, got out and secured the door with it.
"We'll come back to you, don't worry. Just hold on," he said to his sister.
"Take care, Terrance," Katie said, sending him a flying kiss. "I'm so proud of you!"
ZZZ
Most of the twenty-one male passengers on board reported for duty, willing to join the crew in the fight against the pirates, including Katie's grandfather and her twin brother. The two missing passengers, unsurprisingly, were Don Enrique and the angry caballero who had pushed the captain.
At the armoury, Almeida counted thirty firearms, including rifles, pistols, and muskets, and a selection of swords, daggers and other blades; not enough for everybody, although, some of the passengers came with their own. He selected the best rifles for the snippers, keeping one for himself, and distributed the rest of the firearms between the members of the crew who would not be handling the sails or the cannons, and the passengers who didn't have any. The last weapons handed out were the swords, that would only be used if the pirates boarded the ship.
When Ojeda asked for a firearm for José Hidalgo, Almeida gave him the oldest musket, worthless to aim accurately from a distance, but still useful at point-blank range.
"Unless you have a firearm, you should stay below deck while we are under fire from their cannons," Almeida told the passengers who only had a blade, while the ship started to tilt to the sides in the strong wind. "It would be pointless for you to be exposed outside if you are not helping with handling the ship or shooting firearms. If they board us, then please, by all means, come out to help us in the fight as soon as possible. Do your best, and… ¡que Dios reparta suerte!"
God, we're going to need it! Almeida thought when the broken foremast crashed on the upper deck, over their heads.
ZZZ
"Their foremast snapped!" De Soto said, laughing, while once again looking through his spyglass. "Idiots! They should have reefed those sails before they reached the storm! We won't be so stupid."
The pirate crew prepared in advance, resetting their rigging to adapt to the new conditions. As a result, they carried on advancing as fast as they could ahead of the storm, while the Santa Eulalia's wasted precious time resetting the sails into the wind, halted in the turbulent, stormy waters like a sitting duck.
"Unless they get moving soon, we'll be there in no time at all. Prepare the cannons!" De Soto cried, bloodthirsty.
ZZZ
Ulloa could not believe his ongoing string of bad luck. Under the heavy rain, while he kept cutting the stays and ropes to free the broken foremast, he couldn't help but to feel responsible of that disaster, because he should have been at the bridge giving the right orders to his crew, instead of weeping like a coward in his private cabin. Now, without the foremast top, it would be impossible to get away from the pirates in the storm, and three of his men were badly injured, with broken bones, becoming Almeida's first patients. On top of that, a few more men had contusions; nothing too serious, but very inconvenient when he needed them all at their best.
After they helped the injured men to the cockpit, Ulloa survived the damage to the ship while it faced the strong wind, al pairo, as the sailors worked as fast as they could to reset the sails in the storm.
"Dammit, De la Vega, I think you'll have your way!" the drenched captain cried, shouting to be heard over the howling wind. Crestfallen, he looked as gloomy as the weather.
"You mean… we'll attack?" Diego said, also soaked to the bone, glad to know his suggestion had finally been accepted.
"What?" Ojeda cried, chiming in. "Attack? And in this weather? You can't be serious!"
"I know, it sounds crazy, but De la Vega is right," Ulloa said. "We'll never get away from that ship without the foremast top; even less, sailing so close to the wind. If we turn on them now, we'll hold the weather gage for that very important first round, and they won't be able to use their guns with the waves hitting their port side. After that… I don't know. But look at this disaster, Ojeda! We have to adapt to the circumstances!"
"Where were you, Captain?" Ojeda said, too nervous to hold his tongue, openly blaming Ulloa for their new predicament. "I was at the cargo hold with the women, as you ordered, but you… You should have been here, resetting the sails in advance!"
Ulloa looked at his second in command, stunned by the unrestrained rebuke. Ashamed, he couldn't help but blushing in embarrassment, because he was already self-berating about it.
"I'm sorry. It's my fault," Diego said quickly, trying to excuse the captain. "I kept him below deck for too long. He didn't know the weather conditions had changed, and…"
"No," Ulloa interrupted, shaking his head, unwilling to shirk responsibility. "You're right, Ojeda. I should have been here, but I wasn't. However, it's too late now to regret it or to point fingers: the foremast is gone, men are injured, and the only way is forward."
"I'm sorry, Captain, but… this should not have happened!" Ojeda insisted.
"I know!" Ulloa cried, angrier with himself than with his second in command, but Ojeda didn't know that, resenting the outburst. "I was planning a new offensive with De la Vega! I'm sorry if it took me much longer than I anticipated!"
"Excuse me, Sir, but why is this man planning anything at all?! He's not a member of the crew! He's not in the military! And… what's with the black outfit?"
"De la Vega is… Well, he's a man of many talents, and knowledge, and that could be a valuable asset…" Ulloa digressed while remembering Diego's words, but he still could not believe them. Zorro? A caballero like him? Really? "Yes, please, tell us, De la Vega: what's with the black outfit?"
"And why do you need a pirate flag for?" Ojeda said, raising an eyebrow, deeply intrigued.
"Because, when we turn on them, I'll play a pirate: Roberts. The Dread Pirate Roberts," Diego said nonchalantly, putting on the mask, that got instantly soaked by his wet hair and the ongoing, pouring rain, just like the rest of his clothes. "I have this party outfit that will look the part. I'll pretend to be the pirate captain, and you'll be my crew."
"You must be kidding me… This is no place for costume parties!" Ojeda said, shaking his head in disbelief. "And you agree with that stupid idea?"
Ulloa just nodded under the rain. Yes, because I ran out of options and better ideas!
"Seriously, Officer, the last thing they're expecting is a merchant brig that suddenly turns and attacks them, hoisting the Jolly Rogers," Diego said. "It's our best chance to surprise them. Trust me on this: if we want to survive, the pirates should see us as equals, not as prey."
"We don't look like pirates at all!" Ojeda complained. "This is ridiculous! We won't fool anyone! Tell me, Pirate Roberts: how should we behave, ah?"
"I don't know. Just act… "piratey," Diego said vaguely, with a shrug.
"And how the hell should we do that?" Ojeda cried, increasingly upset, about to lose it. "Saying "haaarrr" in half of our sentences?"
"It's easy for you to say act piratey, De la Vega, because you have a pirate outfit of sorts, but we don't," Ulloa said, unusually more calmed and understanding than the First Officer. "Although, in my opinion, that kind of pirate fashion, with a mask and all, it's quite outdated."
"Well, to be as outdated as me, you could rip up your clothes in tatters," Diego joked, "grow a ginger beard, get an eyepatch, carry a talking parrot on your shoulder, use golden earrings and teeth... Whatever you fancy. Anything goes to become a pirate!"
Ojeda was about to express his opinion to that when Cárdenas joined them.
"The sails are all set, Captain! Where should we head to?"
"It was time! All right, Ojeda: tell everybody they should look like pirates," Ulloa said, walking to the bridge with the sailing master, glad he could get away from that annoying conversation. "We should continue on course for a while, close to the wind, so they follow us into the storm, and then..."
"I'm onto you," Ojeda said to Diego when the captain could not hear him, back on the bridge. "First, you made him give up his superstitious rituals, causing his worse string of bad luck ever, and then, you've been meddling with his mind ever since. But you won't get away with whatever it is you want to gain from this!"
"You are mistaken, Officer. I don't have any hidden agenda. I'm only trying to help."
"If that's true, Señor, go help Almeida at the cockpit! Put your medical skills to good use, and leave the strategic planning to the professionals!"
Diego looked back at the Burla Negra. It would still take a little while to reach them.
"Yes, that would be the most useful thing to do, for now," he agreed, heading for the cockpit.
"Act piratey…" Ojeda mumbled when Diego left, shaking his head. "For Christ's sake!"
ZZZ
At the cockpit, Terrance had his first experience as a doctor's assistant when Almeida repositioned the broken bones of the injured sailors, a procedure that seemed pretty brutal.
"Arrgh! You, son of a… AAAAARGGGH!" one of the sailors cried as the contramaestre pulled from his broken leg, while Diego and another sailor held him down.
The bone cracked when it finally fell in position, while the sailor screamed his head off, running out of insults. At that moment, Terrance couldn't hold it anymore, and threw up in one of the sand buckets.
"Come on, boy, if this makes you queasy, wait until you see how our doctor amputates a mangled limb!" the helping sailor joked, quite amused.
"I'm sorry. I'll clean this up," Terrance said, getting more clean sand to refill the bucket.
Almeida nodded to Diego while splinting that leg, appreciating the boy's attitude.
"Leave him alone, Sánchez. I think the lad will do pretty well as my helper, once he gets used to it."
When he finished fixing the broken limbs, Almeida instructed the boy to stay at the cockpit with the injured sailors. Then, he got his rifle and got up to the upper deck, followed by Diego and Sánchez, ready to join the snippers for the first round.
"What are you doing? I can't risk my doctor getting injured!" Ulloa said when he spotted the contramaestre on deck, taking his rifle. "Return to the cockpit with the injured men, please."
"But, I'll be more useful if I …" Almeida started to complain, because he was one of the best shooters on board.
"No buts! De la Vega will take your place," Ulloa interrupted, handing Diego the rifle. "I bet he is a good shot."
Diego looked back at the incoming black vessel again, which was getting dangerously close now.
"When will we turn on them?"
"If we're going to attack, we must do it now, Sir, or it will be too late," Ojeda said. "We'll lose momentum when we turn. If they are too close, they could either ram or rake us down."
"You're right: it's now or never. All to port!" Ulloa ordered to the helmsman. "Turn at once, 180 degrees! Cárdenas, reset the sails for a downwind attack! Ojeda, get everybody ready! Gunners, snippers, everybody in position!"
"Aye, aye, Captain!" was the unanimous cry he got from his crew.
"Almeida, please, before you go below deck, raise this flag."
Ulloa handed the boatswain the Jolly Rogers. Almeida looked at it, puzzled. While at the cockpit, he had not heard anything about the new plan.
"They won't expect us to be pirates, or to attack them. That will get them by surprise."
"With all respect, Sir: we don't look like pirates."
"Are you sure?"
Ulloa removed his captain's navy jacket and hat to reveal and old, white shirt with rolled up sleeves, with a sash across his chest to hold his daggers.
Almeida realized then none of the officers wore uniforms. They all wore old, tatty clothes instead, the same as the rest of the crew, some with vibrant colours and outrageous combinations of styles.
"Don't forget, everyone: act piratey!" Ulloa cried as the ship turned, using Diego's words. Then he added a last order, something that, under normal circumstances, would have never come out of Diego's mouth. "And shot to kill! Don't hesitate!"
ZZZ
"They're turning!" Bustamante cried.
"What?" De Soto said, wiping his face with his right hand, annoyed by the rain. "What for? The storm too much for'em?"
"Don't know, but they're heading west. Look!"
"Never mind, we'll follow them chickens. Remember: no prey, no pay! We can't let them get away!"
At the bridge, Bustamante gave the orders to the helmsman before he continued looking at their prey through the spyglass.
"I can't believe it!"
"What? What happened?" De Soto said.
"They hoisted the Jolly Rogers!"
"What da ya…?" De Soto mumbled, snatching the spyglass. "Mudafuckers! What the hell?"
"Are they attacking… us?" Bustamante said, increasingly baffled as he watched how the Santa Eulalia completed its turn, heading now towards them, no longer sailing away. And quite worryingly, if the Burla Negra maintained her current course and speed, they could be rammed straight on.
The pirates looked at each other for a moment, fearing the unknown. Could that be possible? Had they been conned by another pirate vessel, just like that? After all, right then, with the hold full of stolen goods, they made a juicy prey themselves.
"No… It's a trick! Them no pirates!" De Soto cried after a while, shaking his head. "No pirate carries only two cannons a side! Besides, there's only one pirate ship plundering the Atlantic: my ship. And we're gonna give them hell!"
Bustamante leaned over the gunwale to look at their port side. On that stormy wind, the Burla Negra listed badly to leeward.
"Damn! I told ya, Cap'n: we can't open the gunports! The gundeck will flood!"
"We'll head south then, goddammit!" De Soto cried, looking like a child with a tantrum. "We'll fire at the other side!"
"It's too late! They'll rake the stern!"
"Hijos de puta…"
De Soto hated it, but he had to admit he had been outsmarted by whoever commanded that ship. With no time to manoeuvre the Burla Negra to a most advantageous position, they would have to sit tight for that first round of gunfire, exposing themselves to a broadside.
"A la mierda! Let them bastards come. We'll overhaul them for the second round!"
ZZZ
"Shot to kill! Don't hesitate!"
Diego's moral compass was at conflict with that order, but he knew the captain was right. These were no ordinary bandits, stealing horses in Los Angeles, like the ones he had always caught alive, just branding a "Z" in their clothes. These were bloodthirsty killers, who should be permanently neutralized for the benefit of humanity, and not knocked unconscious for a while, giving them the chance to wake up and carry on with their killing rampage. No, he had to put aside his moral principles, forget his "Zorro doesn't kill" non-written rule, and go for it, because the lives of everybody on board, including Victoria, depended on that. He didn't like it, but he had killed before, so it wouldn't be the first time. Besides, he reminded himself he always regretted not killing the alcalde when he had the chance, and this time, he would not have any regrets of that kind.
Perched on the spars on the main mast, over the main sail, he prepared his rifle as they approached the pirate vessel, coming as close as they could to deliver the first broadside —if firing only two cannons could be defined by such term. Balancing on that position, while the ship swayed in the turbulent waters, wasn't an easy task for him, let alone aiming the rifle accurately in those dreadful, weather conditions. As the Santa Eulalia opened fire with her limited cannon power, Diego aimed at the pirates standing at the bridge, by the helm. One of them, quite short in size, had a distinctive white hair and facial features that made Diego recognize him at once: the pirate captain, Benito de Soto; no doubt a relative of his former schoolmate, Ignacio de Soto.
Diego fired but he missed the target, hitting the helm, almost grazing De Soto's arm. The pirate captain looked in his direction as the ship passed by, while the men on both ships exchanged fire from their rifles and muskets. Enraged, De Soto seized the rifle from another pirate on his right and fired, but he also missed, the bullet whizzing past Diego's head.
ZZZ
Down at the cargo hold, the women jolted when the cannons blasted out on the gundeck, above their heads. Mary-Jo's daughter burst out crying then, distraught by the noise. Her mother and another woman tried to soothe her quiet while the men exchanged shots with the pirates. Everybody wondered what was going on outside, specially Katie, who was worried about her brother, and wanted to go out to help him care for the injured men. When she said so, Victoria looked at her, sad, knowing the poor, innocent girl, could not fully imagine what could happen to her at the hands of the pirates.
"Sweetheart, we have to stay here for the time being. If…" Victoria paused for a moment, composing herself, and then continued with the right word. "When our men win this battle, we'll help them to take care of the wounded, to clean up the mess, to repair the ship… Whatever task we can do then, but now, the most helpful thing we can do is to stay hidden, so they don't have to worry about us, thinking we are safe. I know it's difficult, but that's the most heroic thing we can do for now: to step aside, remain hidden, and let them concentrate on the fight, without worrying about us."
Victoria wanted to help, of course she did, but she knew the best way she could help Diego, was to stay out the way, and let him do "his thing" without worrying about her immediate safety. After all, that was probably one of the reasons why he had thought about the hideout in the cargo hold on the first place.
"You're right," Marta Hidalgo said. "We shouldn't be a distraction for them. Although, as my husband is also here, nobody will lose their concentration if they see me out there helping them… with the gun that I don't have."
"They will, because they think we are all here, safe," Victoria said. "If we try to help them, we would only interfere, becoming a liability."
"Me, I really don't want to be out there, with nothing to do but to witness how they get injured," Doña Margarita said. Those words got a murmur of approval from most of the woman. Most, except Katie.
"I should be out there, helping Terrance!" Katie insisted, stubborn. "I am as brave as my brother, but I have to stay behind because I'm a girl! It's not fair!"
"This has nothing to do with how courageous we are. We have to stay hidden because we are a prize for them. All the pirates want are valuables… and women," Victoria said. "And believe me, you don't want to be taken as a prize."
Katie looked at her grandmother then, wondering.
"Does she mean… they'll rape us?"
Marta only nodded, unwilling to dwell on the thought.
After that, Katie didn't complain anymore.
ZZZ
"Son of a bitch!" De Soto cried when a bullet whizzed by, missing him by an inch. He looked at the attacking ship, spotting the shooter: a man perched over the main's boom. He was dressed in black, and looked like a pirate of a bygone era. "What the fuck? Give me that!"
He seized the rifle Bustamante was about to fire in another direction, and shot the man in black. He cursed again when he missed, his eyes locked in the mysterious black figure. As the other ship passed by, less than ten meters away, the two men looked at each other for a few seconds.
"Hey, that was my shot!" Bustamante complained. "You wasted my bullet!"
"Look at that bastard! ¿Quién coño es ese?"
"No idea. Nice outfit, though. Looks mean."
"All to starboard!" De Soto shouted to the helmsman. "Make a fast turn and chase the bastards! We'll give them hell!"
But that was easier said than done. The other ship, despite the damaged sustained on the foremast, was running on the wind quite fast, skilfully tacking to get in their way, always ahead, avoiding getting rammed on its side while preventing a full broadside.
"Damn! Su jodido capitán knows what he's doing!" De Soto cried, frustrated. "Don't tack so close this time, go broader. We'll overhaul and reach them open on the next. If we're lucky, we'll ram them down; if not, we'll burst their side open with our cannons!"
ZZZ
Ulloa kept shouting orders to the young helmsman, overwhelming him with so many manoeuvres. Soon, the poor lad felt he should be handling a dinghy instead, not a brig. In the end, the captain took the wheel, because it was easier and faster to turn the ship himself in the desired direction while shouting orders to the men handling the sails.
"We can't let them reach our side, but I don't know how long we can hold on like this," Ulloa said to his second in command. "Those bastards are much faster!"
"I'm amazed you managed to keep them at bay this long, Sir!" Ojeda said, impressed by the captain's skills handling the ship.
"They are getting wiser, though," Ulloa said, looking back. "Not following now."
"No, they're going broad…" Ojeda said, using the spyglass one more time. "I bet they'll try to ram us down next."
"Not in my watch…" Ulloa mumbled, turning the wheel again, quite hard. The Santa Eulalia heeled dangerously with the sudden turn, while heading away from the storm and from the next line of attack of the Burla Negra. Unfortunately, with the prevailing wind, that move would prevent the ram, but would also let them exposed to a broadside, the lesser of two evils. And a ruthless pirate like Benito de Soto would not miss that chance.
ZZZZZ