The King's Armada

by Doug Walker

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  When the others had gone, the four around the table gripped hands firmly and the chant began. Then came the Latin incantation. It wasn’t like turning off a light, it was more like dimming a light, fading away gradually, losing the warmth of the room, and then the four figures and a Yorkie with eyes like dark marbles finding themselves on gritty, damp cobblestones.

  “My God,” Ed exclaimed. “What happened?”

  “Time travel,” Guy said. He was pleased. But where were they?

  They struggled to their feet and Guy picked up Poncho.

  What appeared to be tavern lights were just down the street. Guy led the group as they walked in that direction.

  “What kind of trick is this?” Kellerman demanded.

  “No trick, Ed. We are reliving history. This is 16th Century Spain. Madrid if my calculations are correct.”

  “That’s humbug.” He looked from person to person in confusion, but followed along.

  “I know this street,” Doña María said. “Those lights are from a famous brothel and bar.”

  Jesus agreed. “I believe Doria was familiar with this place.” They all spoke Spanish now, further confusing Ed.

  The time was late, but the door was still open. Upon entering they were approached by an older woman dressed to the nines, obviously the madam. “It’s late, boys, but maybe we can take care of you. What’s your pleasure?”

  “How about a glass of wine, mother,” Doña María said.

  “Fine. Help yourself to a table. I’ll bring a bottle.”

  “What is this place?” Ed asked.

  “A whorehouse,” Jesus replied.

  “I’ve had too much to drink. This is a bad dream.”

  “The evening’s young,” Doña María said. “This is Spain and the air and the wine and the food and the people, it’s so wonderful to be back.”

  The woman returned with a bottle of red wine and four glasses. A few others were in the room – two men at a corner table, a man and a woman twisted into an embrace in a window seat, a lone woman at the bar.

  “Do you know Doria Queveda?” Jesus asked the madam.

  “Who doesn’t? But she vanished sometime ago.”

  “She’s OK. I’m her husband, Jesus.”

  “Oh,” the woman lit up. “I heard she got married. I’m so pleased to meet you, Jesus. Please accept the wine and more, if you like, as my wedding present.”

  “There is a favor we want to ask, but we can pay. We do thank you for the wine, but our friend here is not feeling well.” He gestured to Kellerman. “Melancholy and disorientation. If you could keep him for the night. We’d pick him up sometime tomorrow.”

  The madam eyed Kellerman. “He looks healthy enough, but what odd clothing. Is he French?”

  “No, English. But he speaks Spanish.”

  Kellerman knocked back a glass of wine. “I don’t know what you three are up to, but I’m getting out of here. I may call the police.” He rose as if to leave, but Jesus restrained him.

  “You have someone to take care of rowdy drunks?”

  “Of course,” the madam said and signaled a big man seated in the shadows across the room. He came like a shot and the madam said, “Jose take this person in back and bed him down with one of the girls. He’s blind drunk and needs a keeper.”

  Jose nodded and led Ed away mumbling to himself and walking stiffly.

  “He’ll keep till morning,” Guy said. “Now to find an inn and get some rest. I’m feeling a little tipsy myself.”

  “We can take a cab to my home,” Doña María said. “It’s a half-hour ride.”

  “I’m in no mood to be greeted like the long lost wanderer. Let’s save the shock until we’re all feeling a bit better. And maybe you should get a change of attire.” He eyed her cadet’s uniform.

  “No, I think I’ll surprise what’s left of my family in this. It will make for a better story. Doña María, Heroine of the Armada, Mistress of the Grand Crusade! We are entitled to fifteen minutes of fame, are we not?”

  The three found an inn a few blocks away and managed to wake up a sleepy and disgruntled landlord. Grudgingly, they were given two rooms. “Ah, the beauty of the night jar,” Guy remarked as he disrobed.

  Just after noon the next day they trouped back to the bordello. Jesus had suggested that no decent bordello wants anyone nosing around before noontime. The madam was seated at a table sipping cocoa. She rose and embraced Jesus. “I’ve been thinking about your marriage to Doria and her disappearance. Did you murder her? Was it a crime of immense passion?” Her words were said with great sympathy.

  “You women, always trying to fit any situation with a romantic twist. No we simply moved to the New World. A small island kingdom called San Villafranca.” Jesus rolled up his sleeve to reveal his tattoo.

  “What a thing of beauty,” the madam exclaimed. “What is it?”

  “This, mother, is the San Villafranca coat of arms. Each of the devices included is significant to the rich history of the island. Doria has one exactly like it.”

  “I’ve never seen such a lovely tattoo. Most of the work is crude, but this is art. You should be housed in a museum.”

  “Perhaps someday I will. But where is the Englishman?” Guy and Doña María had been standing by taking in the entire conversation with some amusement.

  “The girl managed to settle him down for the night. But this morning he wandered off vowing to find what he called the American Embassy. I have no idea where he was going, but I know where he will end up. In a police dungeon. He is a crazy man.”

  “How long has he been gone?” Guy questioned.

  “At least two hours. Plenty of time to attract the police, or the inquisition. He has heretic written all over him.”

  “Of course the English are heretics,” Doña María cut in. “But we deal with them. My family sells them wine.”

  The madam eyed her suspicious. “And who might you be?”

  “I am Don Diego de Beauvais,” she said haughtily.

  The madam smiled. “I don’t mean to be offensive, but some of your features are quite feminine. Am I the first to notice?”

  Doña María had not bound up her breasts on this morning and they clearly jutted in a provocative manner. “I am in costume. You have found me out. I am Doña María Botella. Perhaps you know my family.”

  “I know your father. I have not had the pleasure of meeting your mother for obvious reasons. I welcome you to my place of business. If you wish to keep up this facade, perhaps I can help you improve your disguise.”

  “I’d be pleased.”

  The madam ordered a waitress to bring cocoa and rolls for the men and led Doña María into the shadowy bowels of the building.

  When they had gone and the cocoa was served, Guy asked Jesus if they should begin their search for Kellerman with the police.

  “My advice is to leave him to whoever has him. We are well rid of him.”

  “We can’t do that,” Guy said. “I don’t mind leaving him in Spain in this age, but I would like to see him in a safe haven. Then he can spend the rest of his life stewing over his evil disposition.”

  “You have a point, my captain. We also should report to the Presidio. It’s the duty of all Armada survivors to check in with headquarters.”

  The madam was all smiles when she led Doña María back to the table. “She makes a proper young soldier doesn’t she? Proud chest, beautiful uniform, dagger in her boot. If she could have been put ashore in England she would have raised hell with the heretics!”

  “Agreed,” Guy said. “She raises enough hell with me. You can be the first to know that Doña María is my wife. We were married in the New World.”

  “A proper Catholic wedding, I hope.”

  “Very definitely.”

  “Not so,” Doña María disagreed. “The priest was an odd one and the service not traditional. We shall have a grand wedding at the cathedral here in Madrid.”

  There was nothing Guy could do; she
was determined. “As grand as it can be, as quickly as it can be handled.”

  She looked aloof. “There is no need for haste. The minutes are a full 60 seconds here in Spain and we are not plagued with fast food, nor are we deserted by tradition. We shall do what we shall do.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Guy said. “So we will deliver you to the warm embrace of your family then Sergeant Jesus and I will report to the Presidio as proper soldiers must, then we will ferret out the Englishman.”

  “And do what with that wretch?” Doña María inquired.

  “Place him in some job somewhere where he can while away his days in the slow-gaited Spanish way that you suggest.”

  She brightened. “I have just the spot for such a lackey and peasant slave. My family has vineyards quite far removed from here. We can place him there. There is always a need for workers. He can teach a few of the men English. It is always advantageous to know the language of your enemy and your trading partner.”

  “And they are both,” Jesus laughed. “Those bastard English love our wine.”

  They hired a cab and dropped Doña María off at a considerable estate. She would make her entry, and then at nightfall Guy would join her and be introduced as her spouse. Whether they would mention the baby was left floating in the air.

  Captain Don Pedro and Sergeant Jesus then reported to the Presidio where they were given a warm welcome. They learned that the transport ship from Limerick had reached Lisbon safely with all men aboard, and that they had been given up as dead, knowing the English treatment of Spanish prisoners.

  Don Pedro simply explained that he and the other hostages had made their escape with considerable difficulty, and a report would be filed at some future date. He didn’t know how to explain his marriage to Doña María, so he skipped owning up to that affair.

  Then they went off to search for Kellerman. He hadn’t gotten far. He was lodged in a cell at the police barracks nearest the bordello.

  “The man is unbalanced,” Don Pedro explained to the police constable. “We will take him off your hands.”

  “But he has been detained by the civil government of Madrid,” the constable asserted.

  “For what purpose?” Jesus asked. “Did he commit a great crime?”

  “No. But he was acting oddly and wearing peculiar garments. Perhaps he would interest the inquisition.”

  “But he is English,” Don Pedro said. “All Englishmen act in an unusual fashion. Now I am a captain in the King’s service and Jesus here is a sergeant, and a very good one who has served with the Armada. This Englishman may have information of value to the military.”

  “As you wish,” the constable said wearily. “He has given us nothing but trouble, an excellent candidate for the stake and the flame. But you may have him.”