He earned some strange looks from his fellow travelers and even the crewmen when Hastelloy first tied his fabric sheet between two support posts. He really did not understand why it seemed so odd to them. The hammock gently swayed with the waves rather than violently jostle its passenger from side to side. It allowed the free flow of air over the top and underneath his body to keep him relatively cool in the otherwise hot, cramped, and humid environment. Most important of all, it suspended him above the floor and allowed him to avoid getting drenched by vile water while he tried to sleep. The puzzled looks from those around him now carried a message of regret and envy.
They were five days into their voyage from London to the Spanish port city of Malaga along the country’s southern shores touching the Mediterranean Sea. The word from the crew was that they would reach their destination the following day. From there Hastelloy would meet up with his partner, Christopher Columbus, and they would both travel inland to Cordoba to meet the Spanish monarchs in their estate at Alcazar castle.
If Hastelloy was honest with himself, he did not trust his coconspirator in this Enterprise of the Indies for which they were trying to gain support. The financial aspect was not the real concern. Hastelloy and his stranded crew of Novi had amassed enough wealth and resources over the millennia to fund thousands of voyages across the Atlantic to reach the undiscovered territories, but just reaching the lands accomplished nothing. The lands had been discovered and forgotten twice before already. The voyage needed to be both led by a man and sponsored by a nation eager to exploit what they found.
Five hundred years earlier, Captain Leif Erikson was adventurous enough to reach and explore the New World. Unfortunately, he was an adventurer first, while his business acumen registered a distant second. Reaching the new lands and knowing that he risked more and explored farther than any other was enough for him.
Seven years ago, Captain Corde and his sponsor, the king of Portugal, were unfortunately all about business when it came to discovering the new lands. They wanted to hoard all knowledge of the discovery to themselves for some purpose that continued to elude Hastelloy.
At first Hastelloy hoped the Portuguese crown was suppressing knowledge of the discovery in order to gain a first mover advantage. If it could establish settlements in the new territories, one or even two decades ahead of other European powers, it would dominate the New World. This was not the case, though.
To date, the Portuguese had done nothing to take advantage of their early discovery of the new lands. No settlement fleets had departed for the New World since the return of Captain Corde. In fact, not a single boat had sailed beyond the Azores Islands since their return.
This led Hastelloy to conclude that the Portuguese were intent on focusing their efforts on acquiring wealth through trade rather than new lands. They were all about acquiring wealth, but not necessarily power.
This is what drove Hastelloy to work with an individual like Christopher Columbus. The man presented an ideal combination of adventurous spirit with a profound lust for wealth, power, and, most important of all, notoriety.
These traits alone did not make Columbus stand out to Hastelloy. Men of his ambitious ilk ran trade ships all along the African and Mediterranean coasts. What made Christopher Columbus unique was the family into which he married. His father-in-law was of Portuguese nobility and one of the king’s closest advisors. It did not take much convincing from Hastelloy to prompt Columbus to snoop around his in-laws’ private documents to find the ultimate prize, the map.
When Columbus first showed the map to Hastelloy, he could practically feel the sting of Juan’s blade penetrating his chest once more. It was a hand-drawn copy of the map Hastelloy had created during their voyage west. It was all there: precise distances, detailed headings, and trade wind patterns. It contained everything to allow even a novice sailor to reach the new lands with ease.
Hastelloy’s first instinct was to use the map in the presentations to the various European courts to gain their support, but that would have been a failed notion. Who in their right minds would believe the map was genuine? Who would believe that two massive continents so close by could remain undiscovered for thousands of years?
Columbus did not want to use the map, either, but for an entirely different reason. The man had advanced knowledge about what he would “discover” on his voyage. He intended to use that information to maximize the wealth and power he stood to gain from the discovery.
This greedy impulse from Columbus is what caused Hastelloy so much concern. He knew this type of personality all too well. In fact, he had been dealing with it for several thousand years now. He saw so much of Tomal’s tendencies for self-aggrandizing that the two could have been twins separated at birth.
Eventually, the commotion caused by the flooding waters died back down so that the familiar creaking and groaning of the ship at sea became audible once more. This allowed Hastelloy to settle back into his hammock, close his eyes, and attempt to sleep the rest of the voyage.
Sleep refused to come to him, though. Visions of what the future most likely held for the new lands and its inhabitants haunted him. Hastelloy knew all too well that Columbus’ priority was to acquire wealth and power for himself at any cost. He knew that Columbus would be an exploiter, not a discoverer, of the new lands, and that knowledge brought with it great sorrow.
Unfortunately for all involved, at this point in the race against the Alpha colony still on Mars, partnering with Columbus was a detestable necessity. The belief that it would all be for a greater good finally allowed sleep to come. The next morning, Hastelloy met his business partner on the docks and the two headed for what needed to be a successful visit to the royal court of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella.
Chapter 10: Ghost of Murder’s Past
JUAN DREW A deep breath through his nostrils that filled his lungs with air and his mind with pride. The fragrant scent of blossoming flowers from all around the royal garden served as a reminder that his star was on the rise.
His surroundings no longer carried the foul stench of old man sweat, sex lubricants, and stale alcohol that he endured for his first ten years living with his mother. Nor did the air around him stink of salt and dead fish that he put up with at sea for three years. He was especially thankful he was now removed from the vile aromas that the Moorish War in southern Spain produced: rotten food, horse manure, and the decay of human corpses. Yes, his lot in life was now much improved.
In fact, walking a mere two paces ahead of him on the cobblestone path was the esteemed Queen Isabella I of Castile. The Spanish monarch may have been short in stature, but her stocky build, force of will, and ruthless reputation more than compensated to present a commanding presence one felt privileged to obey.
Isabella inherited her throne twenty years earlier along with a mountain of debt and a host of rebellious nobles refusing to recognize her right of succession. Any woman with a hint of self-preservation would have walked away from such a circumstance. Any other would have yielded the crown in exchange for a comfortable living stipend and retired to the countryside to practice her embroidery, but not this queen.
She forged an alliance with a neighboring kingdom by marrying King Ferdinand II of Aragon. This alliance gave her an army and a mechanism to go after her challengers. She reclaimed lands her king brother had sold for a fraction of their value and levied high rents on the former owners for the very land she took from them. She then wrested control of the Inquisition away from the Pope. The Inquisition’s original purpose was to ensure orthodoxy of those who converted from Judaism and Islam, but the forward-thinking queen saw other possibilities.
The Inquisition allowed Queen Isabella to “legally” dispose of her rivals and confiscate their estates. It also rooted out a few heretics along the way to keep up appearances, but everyone knew. Even the simpletons knew that crossing the queen risked a most unpleasant end.
“What festivities do we have planned for this evening?” Queen Isabell
a asked one of her aides walking beside her.
“Um . . . none my queen,” a wavering voice replied. “After two full weeks of tournaments, feasts, and balls, the king feels the time has come for some sense of normalcy . . .”
“Actually, modesty was the word he used,” another member of her entourage amended, which made Juan nearly burst out laughing at the backstabbing nature of the comment.
In contrast to her reputation as a wealth hoarder, the queen prided herself on living a frugal lifestyle to remain close to those she ruled. Questioning that was dangerous territory. Even though the king spoke the word, the second man knew there was a chance that the messenger would receive blame and the brunt of her anger. Such were the subtle games played in royal courts to achieve greater standing, or at least diminish others to create an opportunity for one’s self.
“Yes,” the aide admitted as he fired the other man a murderous glare. “In any event, the king canceled the remaining events scheduled to take place while we are here.”
That news stopped the queen dead in her tracks as she gazed up into the distance with wonder in her eyes and amusement lifting the corners of her lips. “My soldiers spent ten years fighting the Moors to rid our country of their kind. Now, when my armies have finally conquered their last remaining stronghold and brought the war to an end, the king expects modesty?”
“This is a Castile matter. Who the hell is he to tell me what to do with my kingdom?” the queen went on with more frustration than anger in her voice. “We celebrate the victory, and we celebrate the warriors who won it.”
With that, Queen Isabella turned around to point an extended index finger at Juan, which provoked him to straighten his spine a bit. He tried to remain modest for appearance, but all the same he felt a warm glow in his cheeks when singled out for his service in the war. He may not have been the winning general, but Juan hand delivered the defeated Moorish king to the queen and that counted for a lot.
“All the coin is spent in celebration of you, not to buy me a new dress or palace.”
Juan acknowledged the statement with an accepting bow of his head toward the queen. “The festivities are most appreciated, Your Majesty, but I’m afraid the king was quite insistent.”
“Gold, that is all he thinks about,” the queen sighed. “What is the point of having such a large treasury if it never gets spent? Not on me, mind you, but on something that will benefit the people or the world at large; like reclaiming our Iberian Peninsula from the Muslims for all of Christianity.”
“Much land and treasure was reclaimed during the war. Amounts that far exceeded the expense of the campaign,” Juan pointed out.
“Exactly my point,” the queen exclaimed as she turned around and resumed her brisk walking pace through the garden. “That tight purse did all he could to dissuade me from waging the Moorish War. All he saw was the upfront cost. He has no vision for the future rewards a calculated risk can yield.”
The queen’s last words were music to Juan’s ears. Finally, after two weeks spent licking boots in the queen’s entourage following his time spent as Knight Commander de Guzmán’s squire in the war, Juan had his opening. He may have been in the Spanish royal court, but his loyalties remained with his father back in Portugal. He was there for one purpose, and this was the moment to achieve it.
“Your Majesty,” Juan said in his most accommodating tone. “We are going to a meeting where a voyage of discovery heading west will be presented.”
“Yes, yes,” the queen replied with a dismissive wave of her hand without breaking stride. “Columbus. Again. I suffered through his flawed mathematics lesson two years ago and expect it to be no more convincing this time around. The quicker we rush him out the door amid a chorus of laughter the better. What of it?”
“What if Columbus is right?” Juan suggested. “Your treasury is full and the amount requested is tiny by comparison. Yet the potential payoff from such an investment by you is without limit.”
The queen paused once more to face Juan, “The proposal is ridiculous. My navigators and scientist are all in agreement on this. You would have me waste coin on a worthless endeavor?”
“If the king had not put a halt to tonight’s planned celebration, you would have spent that much and more on food and fireworks,” Juan pointed out to keep her mind on the affront to her independence by the king. “If you cannot spend the coin in celebration, then risk it on an investment. That way you do not openly defy the king, but still get your point across that you will not have matters of money dictated to you by him.”
That was it. Juan had played every card in his hand. It would either win the day or send him packing back to his father with nothing to show for his efforts.
Queen Isabella cocked her head slightly to the side and with a big smile cupped Juan’s cheek in her right hand. “Oh, yours is a dangerous mind. I like that very much.”
Without another word spoken, the queen turned around and made her way to a canopy erected in a clearing to take her seat beside King Ferdinand II of Aragon. Juan followed the rest of her courtiers into seats lining a walkway leading up to the royal couple. In general, the two monarchs ruled their respective kingdoms independently, but combined them in marriage to form the nation of Spain, where they shared a common foreign policy. It was a unique arrangement to be sure, but they made it work, most of the time.
“Bring them in,” the king ordered.
Moments later, two unusually tall men took measured steps down the central aisle. Everyone in the clearing was taken aback by the site of two men who stood a full head taller than anyone else in attendance. Juan had only met one man who stood so tall, the navigator that circumstances required him to stab through the back.
As Juan thought about it, without the thick beard, mustache, and long hair, the tall man even looked a bit like his mentor from years past. It was an unsettling notion that he forced aside in his mind to pay attention to the present rather than reliving his disturbing past.
Both men paused midway down the aisle to bow and continued walking forward only after the king bid them to do so with a silent wave of his hand. The pair executed a second bow at the base of the steps ascending to the royal couple and then proceeded with their presentation, which drew nothing but eye rolls and yawns from the king. After five minutes, he had heard enough.
“Allow me to save us all a good deal of time, gentlemen. Your calculations are wrong. They were wrong two years ago. The shape and size of our world has not changed since then, which means they are still wrong today,” King Ferdinand declared with finality fueling his words.
“Your Majesty, I concede that my calculations are not the generally accepted figures, but I wholeheartedly believe them to be accurate,” Christopher Columbus responded. “I only ask you to risk coin to prove my calculations true or false. I will be the one risking my life to do so.”
The response drew a loud chuckle from the usually stoic king before he said, “A few years back I met a man who swore up and down that he could fly. All he needed was enough money to build a set of wings that he could strap to his arms. Everyone thought he was a lunatic, but I gave him the money just the same.
“A month later we all gathered at the rock of Gibraltar to watch that lunatic jump from the quarter-mile-high cliff face. Do you want to know what happened to him?” the king asked in rhetorical fashion. “He furiously flapped his constructed wings like a bird as he jumped off the rock. He flapped those wings that he truly believed would allow him to fly all the way down until the jagged rocks below dismembered his body into an unrecognizable mass of blood and bones.
“I was entertained at least by the mad man’s use of my money,” the king went on, still laughing at the recollection. “Your imminent demise from this proposed endeavor would not even provide me that moment of merriment since you’ll be sailing west into the sunset to never be seen or heard from again.
“My answer is no, I will not sponsor your lunacy. It profits me not, nor does it entertain me,
” the king concluded.
Just as the two men began packing up their maps, Queen Isabella spoke up, “I might.”
Every head in the clearing, including the king’s, turned to look at her in amazement as she elaborated further, “How long do you expect to spend at sea heading west?”
“Five weeks,” Columbus answered with hope buoying each word.
“You plan to sail three to four thousand miles in only five weeks?” the queen asked with great skepticism. “How?”
“By using the easterly wind patterns that Portuguese sailors have documented on their supply runs to the Azores Islands,” Columbus answered with growing confidence.
Queen Isabella looked to her chief navigational advisor and received a confirming nod from the man before she continued. “Let’s assume for a moment that you are correct. Ships are only able to carry six weeks of supplies for the crew. That does not leave you much margin for error.”
“No, Your Majesty, it doesn’t,” Columbus admitted. “That, however, is my risk to bear.”
“I can accept that, but then tell me how will you return from the East Indies? These winds of yours will be fighting against you for the entire return voyage,” the queen challenged.
“The queen is right,” the king jumped in. He must have sensed her willingness to support the venture was in response to his reining in her festivities and jumped on any negative notion at this point. “Sailing against those winds will take several months using the arduous process of zigzagging upwind. Your supplies of food and fresh water would be exhausted long before you even made it a quarter of the way back.”
If the series of mumbling and half-started sentences that followed was any indication, Columbus was completely dumbfounded by the question. After what seemed like an eternity spent with every set of eyes on the stammering man, his furry-faced companion spoke up to deliver a stunning reply.
“The sailing technique is called beating against the wind, Your Majesty, but we will not need to use it,” the man explained. “We have evidence that further north there is a shift in wind patterns back to the east. We expect these prevailing winds heading northeastward from the southern zone of the Ocean Sea will propel us back to the coastline of Western Europe, where we already know the winds curve southward toward your Iberian Peninsula. If our calculations are correct, we will have favorable winds for both legs of our journey.”
Origins: Discovery Page 8
