The Kingdom of the Damned

by Mario Garrido Espinosa

  “I'm sure of it. I have no doubt that with your expertise everything will be perfectly repaired," the captain conceded. “Start right now and put in charge the sailors you need.”

  The candles were ready to be useful after three weeks and four days, the master sailor, who was a rather pessimistic man, but no less realistic, was sure that the patches from almost untreated plant materials would not support the whole journey. For this reason, the boats of a good number of the lianas and stems of plants that had replaced the thread of candles and of the archaic instruments that with good intention and a lot of skill served as jaws and punches were also stocked.

  5

  "I know what you're thinking," the old Medeiros told to the young James Trent the night before setting sail. “And it's crazy.”

  “And what am I thinking?”

  “Well, in a woman with jet-black hair who has you acting as a completely idiot. You think the day we leave this island will be the last time you see her and that maybe it will not be so difficult to take her hidden in one of the boats," old Medeiros yelled.

  The two men were sitting on the beach, leaning against a palm tree. The sea looked beautiful with the lights and torches reflections of the three ships on the horizon. Despite the lack of light, old Medeiros saw how his young friend's face reflected the perplexity of someone who was been spotted in something that, in theory, nobody could know.

  "Since I left my old Lisbon, more than forty years ago, I've met at least ten men like you... And they all failed. Some died by being passed through the keel and, the luckiest, ended degraded and starved anywhere,” —the old man took James by the shoulder—. “Do not do it! These things are always spotted.”

  "I have to take a chance," was the boy's sure response. “Besides, I am already degraded.

  "If it's not for you, do it for her," the old man answered almost without listening. “What do you think will happen to that poor girl when she's discovered? In the best case she will be sold as a slave to a slave ship or will be treated as such in Europe... But by the time she reaches her destination, will have been raped by fifty men... You know what kind of people we, the sailors, are...”

  James Trent was silent.

  "Look at this place," Medeiros said. "The beach, the calm sea, this light breeze, this quietness, the silence... can we take it? We cannot! For a while we will long for it, or maybe our whole life, but it must stay here. Well, the woman you've fallen in love with is part of all this and this is her place.

  6

  He could have stayed on the island, but that desertion would have cost him his life sooner or later, and maybe also the people’s around. He knew for sure that if he did, the Gurracamese Navy would have looked for him all over the world if necessary, although everything would probably be faster, because his captain would turn around to look for and take him chained to a navy court in civilization. In addition, the highest leader of the expedition would do so with much pleasure because he had already on his blacklist since he was ineffective in his position, because of the love evils.

  The day before sailing to the old continent, James Trent hid his beloved, at night, in the boat in which he worked. Turhaii's father knew that that was going to happen because Athawebasska, God of misfortunes and calamities, had told him days before. He did not bother looking for her in the village when everything was calm after losing sight of the three boats silhouette. He entered his hut and found that his daughter had taken the bag of goat skin that was his most precious property. The old shaman noticed the lack of a large quantity of medicinal plants that he stored in his hut and that surely now were packed inside Turhaii’s bag. That detail made him smile and feel a bit of pride, but soon his heart was filled with the only possible feeling at that moment: sadness. Shippo knew that his deities’ decision would allow his daughter’s life for many years, but what grieved him was that she would also suffer terribly for not having completed the science learning of her ancestors... However, the worst was his people would suffer and, little by little, they would end up succumbing because of the departure of the only person destined to replace the shaman, when he died soon.

  Thus, Night Skin abandoned, never to return, the land and the people who saw her being born, to go to a place that, although she still did not know it, was on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. On the other side of a body of water that she never thought would have an end.

  It did not take long for Turhaii to be spotted and Captain Joseph Snake Feldman, who was not exactly a man of honor, gave twenty lashes and went through the keel to the poor boy, who was not drowned by chance, with some delight, as if poor James was an old, dangerous and annoying enemy. Automatically, the food ration of the sailor was divided in two, in order to feed the indigenous woman, and prevent her from starving. Joseph Snake Feldman had already thought about the native future. In some places of Gurracam, she could be sold as a maid very easily. She was extremely beautiful and would be taken out of his hands. Then, the soulless man who acquired her would treat her as the most unfortunate of the slaves... but that did not matter very much to the captain. He also had an excuse for the case that his intentions to trade with her were discovered: he would say that the Indian had embarked as ambassador of her town, to deliver gifts and messages of peace to His Majesty the King of Gurracam.

  The lemon and lime supplies, which were used to supply the lack of vitamin C in the sea, began to become scarce, so the captain decided to suspend the periodic ration of the boy and the others who were under arrest, thus providing a new punishment that add to the previous ones. This caused James to catch the scurvy almost automatically, while slowly seizing the entire ship. During the first days, he survived thanks to the care of Night Skin, although he was so consumed by the disease that the terrible hemorrhages ended up weakening him enough to die shortly before a storm caused the shipwreck of his ship, the Bartholomew II, that it was the smallest and worst sail.

  7

  Moments before the day’s storm of the shipwreck began, the Sovereign young sailors could not believe their eyes when contemplating, half terrified, for the first time in their lives, the ghostly fire of St. Talmud. They had formed a group and they did not understand how they could be the only ones who watched the show in astonishment. The rest of the sailors did not seem to be surprised by that.

  “Look there, on the topsail!”

  “There is also light in the mainmast!” a cabin boy shouted whose legs were beginning to tremble as if he had seen the face of a Devil.

  "Do not worry about those fire plumes," said a man in his sixties, who must be tired of seeing the electrical meteor, “and prepare for what is coming on us.”

  “The storm is coming. Pay attention to the grandfather and get everyone in your position," someone told to the horrified boys, while the atmosphere continued to be charged with electricity.

  "When there's light in the rigging, good weather lasts little," the older sailor said who had probably been more than half his life in a boat. “Do not forget this, because it is always true.”

  “And we cannot do anything!” the youngest cabin boy shouted, who, with an accused lazy leg, must be guessing his end.

  "Well," the old man said, hitting him with a finger on the shoulder and laughing in a creeping way. “I know an infallible cure.”

  “Which one?”

  "Give whips to the cabin boys on board," he assured with a laugh. “And stop, surely for the temporary. The stronger the lashes are, the sooner you leave the storm and the sea calms before.”

  The cabin boy was starting to get really scared and hid behind the other older boys. The old man began to laugh more strongly. There was a very close thunder. Another sailor came up and said:

  “Leave the boy alone, you old bastard. And you do not believe him," he ordered, addressing the boy. “They are stories of unfaithful ships and this old devil has been chained in the cellars of more than one”. He paused. “And, moreover, justly.”

  “I have seen it and it works. I th
ink it works. Even if the infidels do it," the old man said who was partly discovered.

  Lightning struck in the middle of the sea. The lightning blinded a few seconds to all.

  “I'll tell you a system that works: hang a man from the crew and then slaughter him. This satisfies any god and any demon.”

  “For Christ!” the old man exclaimed.

  “Who do you suggest is the most useless of this ship? Who has less time to live?”

  “In the Viking ships, when they were forced to get rid of a man to calm their god Odin, they did it of the one who was older...” —the botanist of the expedition commented, who joined the group, inventing a large part, or the totality of what he said.

  "And work, I think it works," the other man said, making the old sailor’s words his own.

  The old man did not like the innuendo of those two men, who seemed to know many more seafaring stories and legends than he did; or at least they showed more imagination. The boatswain shouted at everyone to be attentive in their posts because the storm was starting to get worse.

  Fat droplets of water began to fall, exploding against the floor like cannon projectiles.

  “Lower the sails of a damn time!” Captain Joseph Snake shouted at the inefficiency of his men, diminished by the flocks of the hurricane wind.

  The second on board repeated the order in a more professional way:

  “Lower the sails!”

  The discussion dissolved.

  8

  During the day’s storm of the shipwreck, Bartholomew II overturned. The boat was turned upside down in the same way a walnut shell would with a normal wave. All the live work of the ship was ridiculously exposed for an hour, while the weight of the cargo, the 64 guns of 24 and 18 pounds and its ammunition scattered by the two decks slowly sank the ship. Those affected by scurvy all died. The rest of the crew of the ship were only a few survivors, who became part of the crew of the other two boats.

  The captain of the expedition asked for a damage report as soon as it was morning. He deeply regretted the loss of several pots with strange plants brought from the new world, which had cost many sweats to transplant and, above all, keep alive during the voyage. These vegetables would give him greater glory on arrival at Gurracam but, untimely, they were on that missing ship. When the second officer reported the loss of a slender, proud and temperamental horse of Arab origin, the captain became furious. The animal supposedly had to be presented in the name of the King of Gurracam to the first indigenous King they could find, but he never gave it away and, of course, the captain intended to keep it for his stables. The horse had died during the storm being its tomb the flooded warehouses of The St. Paul that after the storm had to be fixed, using crews of sailors who took turns, among other things, to drain the accumulated water.

  The equine, which for Captain Snake turned out to be more important than the seamanship of his three ships, it had forelock and white pages, yellowish mane and tail and bright brown back. It was a beautiful and very strong animal; it endured the entire trip without any problem, despite the obvious discomfort that involved carrying a sling under the belly tied to one of the beams that held the main deck of the ship. In this way, it was achieved that the animal did not fall into any of the lurches of a crossing by sea. It clearly enjoyed better food favors than the crew, having its crib always full of hay and buckets overflowing with fresh water right next to him. This made more than one sailor think of killing it during the trip or unhooking it from its sling, thus causing that sooner or later it would slip, a leg would break, and it would have to be sacrificed. In this way, it would at least serve as food, instead of being the source of fights and arguments. However, it was impossible to approach it, since five sailors were in charge of its custody, which Captain Felmand himself had designated, responding with their life to any failure.

  In the days following the shipwreck, the two surviving ships remained anchor, while trying —with little success— to rebuild them. During that time, the captain had hardly any recollection for the dead or missing crew. He did not even reunite those who were left to pay homage to them with some prayer, cannon fire or something similar. He could have made a list of casualties and put it in the log, but he did not have the decency to have this last detail. The only thing he wrote was the following:

  To the Bartholomew II has been swallowed by a storm that almost ends with the whole expedition. Many of us, it has been a miracle, are alive to tell.

  Bartholomew II crew, composed of one hundred and two men, only fifteen remain, twelve of whom are seriously injured.

  Sailing master Harold Hepburn Ericsson has died. The boatswain Francisco Burton de Ojeda is very badly hurt. I do not think he survives. The doctor Stanley de la Cruz does what humanly can, but has lost almost all his material and, in addition, he has his right leg broken.

  The St. Paul and the Sovereign are in a terrible state. In particular the St. Paul, which has the mainsail, the topsail, the sail and the staysails completely destroyed. In the main warehouse, a waterway has been discovered that has not been completely controlled. All available pumps are being used, but the water levels in the bilge are growing alarmingly.

  I doubt we can get to Gurracam in the current conditions. It is possible that we have to take advantage of the little good that remains of the St. Paul to try to careen the Sovereign firm, and thus try to arrive in some port.

  They have lost, among other things, several pots with unknown plants of edible and tasty fruit, twenty barrels of fresh water, five of sugar, two of rum and a large quantity of fruit in still acceptable condition. The ammunition and gunpowder are useless. An indigenous woman from the newly discovered island of New Hospitality has also disappeared, who voluntarily wanted to deliver the gifts —also missing— from her tribe to our Majesty King Bartholomew II.

  Fortunately, we keep five giant tortoises still alive, which is, indeed, the only meat we have left. We cannot take them inside the boats due to lack of space. The Gaviero Carmelo Mendoza has proposed to tie them to some ends and throw them into the sea, so that they can be removed when necessary. It does not seem like a bad idea. The turtles seem to support everything...

  9

  Joseph “The Bull” found Night Skin, a rainy morning, lying on the sand on the beach. She was completely naked and the thin rain curtain slid and cleaned her skin. In her stiff right hand, she held a bulging sack that did not release until the day she opened her eyes again. Until that day arrived, Joseph did everything he could and knew to rehabilitate the body of that fascinating woman, who had endured the fury and merciless cold of the sea, in addition to the bites of some fish. As soon as she recovered her strength, Night Skin began to heal herself using the sagging plants in her coat, which were mostly still in use the woman gave them. When she could walk, always helped by Joseph “The Bull”, she searched all over the island for plants similar to those her father had taught her to distinguish as healing. On the island there was little vegetation, not to mention that in some of its areas was a bare rock, but they discovered a kind of oasis that was full of greenery and, among all the plants that grew there, Turhaii selected those of the same or similar species to which already dried and half rotten kept in her sack. Joseph was in charge of taking them and, not without a certain awkwardness, treating them as she indicated. In three weeks, Turhaii returned to the same health that she had worn in her homeland and in another three weeks, she was in charge of filling the ruined hut where Joseph lived of all the plants that she understood would help her to continue practicing her father's knowledge.

  At first, they had a lot of trouble understanding each other, but it was not long before they could talk to each other, because Night Skin was chanting a lot of words in English and in Gurracamese, which were the languages ​​of her beloved James Trent, and The Bull also knew some of the language spoken in England and, of course, the Gurracamés, which was his language of birth. Thus, six months after getting to know each other, Night Skin briefly told Joseph how sh
e made it to the island:

  “Grab piece of wooden ship. Save life like this.”

  But this was an explanation that never convinced The Bull, and in the moments when he insisted that she tell him the truth, he was even more confusing, as he tried to make her believe that when she was exhausted, she decided to abandon herself to the ugly arms of death, a noble monk seal guessed right passing by her side and, feeling sorry for her, held her above its body while emitting strange sounds, which spread in every direction imaginable in the sea water. After a while, ten seals arrived, and among all, taking turns with incredible discipline, they transported her in their respective dark blue loins for a number of days that Turhaii did not know how to specify, until finally they reached one of the banks of Moralnugno.

  Joseph “The Bull” did not take seriously any of this story or any of the other stories that happened on the Turhaii’s island that on other occasions the imposing woman tried to convey to him. They were crazy stories, full of a fantasy without limits impossible to inculcate in a man whose life had been chiseled by the bloodiest reality. For all these reasons, he was unable to give an admissible explanation when, one morning, eleven months after meeting with Turhaii, when he passed by Holy Choral Marie beach, a wounded or sick seal left the sea, without any fear, and allowed itself to be caressed and to touched by Night Skin and, finally, to lie down affable and calm so that she could apply her strange medicine.

  Chapter 17

  The St. Bonaventure day massacre

  1

  W

  hen the ceremonial reading of the psalms was finished, it was very short time before that damn Thursday, the St. Bonaventure day —which in the following centuries would be called in the vicinity as Day of the Massacre—, materialize completely.