by L. E. Waters
“I told you boys not to wait for me,” the captain says, rubbing his leg.
“Pepe…” Andres shakes his head sadly, looking at the figures on the small boat getting pulled up.
“He didn’t even say good-bye to us.” I wonder if I can pick out his shape from here.
Andres bends down and pats Bella. “Well, at least we still have you.”
But something makes her freeze, and she turns one ear toward the beach and stops breathing so she can hear better. I don’t hear a thing, but she takes off running toward the beach. We watch from above as she makes her way through the reeds and rushes, and both of us gasp as she runs to a dark shape on the beach. Andres and I take off running too, and our hearts leap to see Alvaro sitting there on the sand, watching the ship set sail. Another familiar voice comes out from the underbrush behind us as Pepe walks out, batting away the branches from his face, spitting out the imaginary leaves from his paranoid mouth.
“Those berries pretty much come out the same way they looked when they went in,” he says, walking toward us.
“We thought you left!” I say, trying to catch my breath.
“Almost did,” Alvaro says flatly without looking at us, eyes fixed on the ship.
“We thought we could tell them to wait for you, but they said they risked their lives every hour they waited.” Pepe ties up his pants.
“Carlos and the others?” Andres asks.
“Yeah,” Pepe answers.
I realize Pepe has pants. “Where did you get pants!”
He laughs. “They gave me some when they saw my skirt.”
“You couldn’t have asked for some extra pairs!” Andres yells.
Pepe laughs harder. “Alvaro remembered. He got a pair for each of you.”
Alvaro throws two pairs at us without speaking and walks past us, back up the ridge. Andres and I quickly rip off our ferns, throw on the stiff pants, and follow, hoping Alvaro wasn’t going to make the captain feel like this is his fault.
As soon as the captain sees him, he says, “You’re a fool, Alvaro.”
However, Alvaro throws him a pair of pants. “What kind of a first mate would I be if I left my captain behind?”
Pepe, Andres, and I all smile like three children relieved that their parents quit quarreling.
We walk north of the mountains for as long as the light lasts, and we have to sleep in the moss under some giant rocks overnight. We sleep much closer to each other than normal that night due to the cold and strange surroundings. In the darkest part of night, we hear howling and yelps somewhere very near.
The captain rubs his eyes quickly. “I think it’s best we sleep in shifts. Make sure those wolves find something else to eat tonight.”
He never wakes anyone else up, though; he takes the whole watch.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
In the morning, we start up the side of the mountain through the cotton fog that creeps up and over the peaks along with us. Many hours pass as we make our way over. Once at the top, we look down the beautiful valley that rolls to a shiny lake and then keeps rolling out to the blue-blue of the sea on the horizon. In the middle of the lake stands a mythical castle with five towers making up a circle. It’s majestic and appears to grow right out of the water.
The captain puts his arms out wide, with his head up to the heavens, and says, “The Castle of Rossclogher!”
As we make our way down, I keep wondering how it is possible that anyone could have built anything in the middle of a lake, and come to the conclusion that these people must be magical.
“How are we going to get to the castle?” Andres asks as he slips on a rock and slides a bit down the dirt path. Pepe scoffs.
“Will they send a boat for us?” Alvaro asks, uncertain.
“We better not be swimming out there,” Andres worries.
The captain squints and scans the surroundings. “I’m sure once we get there, we’ll find a way.”
Which only worries us more.
All except Pepe, who rubs his stomach. “I’m starving.”
“We’re out of the oaten bread Carra gave us, so you’ll have to wait.” The captain pushes him ahead.
We reach a wider path of small stones that leads to different pastures of grazing cattle.
“These must belong to the castle. There should be a herder or milk maiden nearby.” The captain slowly turns around, searching for signs of life.
Andres screams, “I see a girl—there!”
We all turn, but the volume of Andres’s sighting sends the girl running, and she disappears behind the hill.
“Good job, Andres,” Alvaro says low.
The captain sighs. “Well, it’s a good time to rest, then, and we’ll wait for someone to see us.”
“I just hope it’s not the English that do.” Alvaro lies down on a grassy spot and closes his eyes. We decide to do the same.
I don’t know how much time passes, but I open my eyes to six shadows looming over us, and we jump at the stealthy intrusion. Alvaro gets to his feet, but one of them lays a spear right next to his neck. The captain immediately speaks in Latin. The largest man replies in the same language and only after a few exchanges, the man slaps the back of the captain as he helps him up, knocking him off balance on his good leg.
The captain turns to us as the savages walk away. “That’s MacClancy, the large one. He’s O’Rourke’s subject and immediately welcomed us to his castle, where he says other Spaniards are presently harbored.”
We all smile at the idea of a safe haven, such as this well-fortified castle in front of us. But we start walking away from the lake and back up one of the hills.
“Why are we walking away from the castle?” I ask.
“He said to follow him,” the captain replies.
We pass a few small, thatched houses and come to a cove of heavy brush and boulders beside the hill. The men trek right through the brush, snapping it back on us, and disappear into the darkness of some sort of cave.
Alvaro pauses. “Is this a trap, Captain?”
“Why would they kill us in this cave when they could have killed us right there by the lake?” He continues limping over the rocks on the path.
The light vanishes quickly once we’re in the cave, and all I can do is put my hands on either side of the narrow cavern and follow the noise of those ahead of me. About the time I start feeling like there’s little air left and the walls are closing in, I see some light flash as a door opens to a room ahead. I step out after Alvaro into the small, rock-walled room and suddenly realize we must be inside the castle.
Pepe squeals in delight, runs to the small high window. “We went through a secret tunnel!”
Andres and I both pull at him so we can see too. Through the window, the dark lake glistens, and the spring green hills roll with the mountain in the background.
“I can’t believe it!” I shout and turn to look at the captain’s face. Even he’s impressed.
We follow the men out to a court that is an open circle in the center of the fortress. By the way everyone’s standing around, I realize it must be a communal area.
MacClancy talks to the captain, who in turn translates for us.
“They’re getting ready for an attack. They’ve sighted the English on horseback in these areas, and most of their people have been brought into the castle.”
“Hello, my brothers!” a Spaniard still wearing his doublet and pants exclaims as he comes and kisses the captain on both cheeks. Five other Spaniards stand behind.
With the approach of the Spaniards, MacClancy bows and walks away to his people.
“What great ship split apart and spewed you out onto this foul shore?” The Spaniard laughs.
“We come from the San Pedro. I was her captain.” He decides to exclude the Judge Magistrate’s ship for a reason.
“Oh, Captain.” He and the others all bow slightly. “We wrecked on the Juliana. All of us that have survived stand before you.” He seems sadder at
this.
“How have these savages treated you?” the captain enquires.
“Much better than others in this wretched place. This MacClancy is a very important savage. He and O’Rourke’s clan are giving England hell over in Sligo, holding on to their lands the best they can.”
“Can we get them to fetch us something to eat? We haven’t eaten or drank for days.”
“Well, you might have a problem there. These strange folk only eat once a day and at night, but I can get a maiden to fetch you all some sour milk.”
“Sour milk?” Andres asks with a sneer.
“Yes, it’s all they drink here, even though I’ve tasted the water and it is the sweetest I have ever tasted. So suit yourself.”
“Please have them fetch the sour milk. We’ll need something, however putrid, in our stomachs before suppertime.”
We head to the fire, where a few small boys are sitting but get up and move to their fathers at our approach. Sitting, I have the chance to take in everything around me and see these people are very different from those at home. They wear similar dismal-colored short coats of goat hair over tight trousers and wrap blankets around themselves. The women have very long hair, and the men wear their hair past their eyes. The women wear linen headdresses tied in the front of their foreheads, and although most of them are very fair, they appear old and frumpy the way they’re dressed. Nothing like the way Spanish women dressed back home. I thought of my mother, suddenly, and how pretty she always looked, and a pang punishes me for not thinking of her for so long.
Before I can think if she misses me by now, a young maiden returns with some wooden bowls and a pitcher. She’s dressed like the others but is not as fair. Her face is pinched in the middle, with thick round lips that give her a fish-like look. Her dirty blonde hair is tied back with her headdress, and she stares at Pepe as she puts the bowls down to pour. Pepe watches her pour them. When all are poured, she passes them out, waiting to give Pepe the last one. She hands him his but is sure to make eye contact as she places it in his hands. Andres shoots me a look, and I know he notices the strange behavior as well. I’m relieved to see her leave and go back into another area.
“What an ugly girl that is,” Andres jabs.
“I don’t think she’s ugly,” replies Pepe, searching back to where she disappeared.
I want to change the subject. I take a sip of the milk. “Ugh!” I let out after I swallow the warm and slightly chunky liquid.
Pepe and Andres both follow with similar looks of disgust.
The captain holds his bowl up to us like a toast. “When in Rome—” And he swallows the whole bowl down with a few gulps. He lets out an “Ahh” when he finishes.
The rest of us finish slowly. I save some for Bella to have, and I call her over. She eagerly comes to inspect my bowl, but after one lap, she sneezes and runs off. We all laugh that even a dog wouldn’t drink the sour milk. I wonder if I’ll be here long enough to grow accustomed to it.
Andres bends in close, as if any of the savages could understand us, and says, “You notice how much stockier these men are. They’re built so thickly and look very strong.”
“Yeah, I noticed too,” I say, eyeing them.
Overhearing us, the Spaniard who welcomed us says, “Yes, they’re very powerful and hardy fellows. They leave almost every night after supper and go out on raids on their rival clans, stealing everything they can get their hands on.”
“It’s the reason why they’ll never defeat the English—they keep fighting each other,” the captain says as the Spaniard nods in agreement. Hours fly by with us observing the strange habits of the savages, and a simple dinner of oaten bread and butter is served.
“This is all they eat?” the captain asks the Spaniard in surprise.
“Yes, except on their feasting nights, where they’ll eat some meat, which we haven’t had the pleasure of partaking in yet.”
Chieftain MacClancy comes and sits next to the captain, and I’m waiting for the translation. I then notice Pepe’s unusually quiet on my right, and I turn to see he’s staring at something. I follow his gaze and sneer upon seeing the fish-faced girl across the fire looking back at him, smiling. I nudge Andres on my left, and he sneers also. Suddenly, I realize the captain’s translating to us, and I nudge both sides to pay attention.
“It seems MacClancy has received word that the ship we had the lucky misfortune of missing, split apart and sank only hours after weighing anchor. They think all two hundred or more aboard were lost.”
“Oh, no,” Andres says, and we all think of Carlos and the others who were with us.
Alvaro looks amazed but remains quiet. I’m sure he must have been glad his conscience kept him with the captain now.
“So, the bright side is, you’re all very lucky to have such an invalid in your company!” the captain says with a joyful smile.
The fish-faced girl takes us to a room that night and brings woolen blankets to lie upon the cut rushes piled on the floor. Pepe lingers at the door, probably hoping she’ll return bringing something else, but Andres and I slump to the ground with Bella and fall asleep in minutes. We haven’t had a bed like this for a very long time.
In the morning, we stumble out to the circle, and all of the savages are leaving through the tunnel to the fields. Pepe starts following them out, and Andres and I roll our eyes at each other and go with him. He doesn’t take his eyes off her. I can’t see what he likes so much about her except for the fact she’s always smiling so stupidly at him. The girl wanders off behind the hill, and Pepe gets up to go in her direction. When we start to follow him, he actually turns to us. “You mind if I go alone?”
I scoff and sit right back down, not even wanting to look at him, and Andres says, “You don’t want us with you?”
“I just want a little time alone.” He doesn’t even wait for a reply but runs off after her.
Andres slumps down angrily next to me, and we sit there, watching cows for an hour. Alvaro has walked off with the new Spaniards who are around his age. A rustle of woolen blanket makes us turn, and the most beautiful woman we’ve ever seen sits down next to us with a smile. The captain sits down with us too, and he’s giddy for some reason, which I’m sure has to do with the beautiful creature beside us.
She reaches out a fragile, graceful hand and places it on my lap. I look to the captain, not understanding what it is she wants, and he chuckles. “I told her you were a gypsy and read fortunes!”
“What! I don’t read fortunes.” I try to push away her hand, but she only smiles more sweetly and holds it up to me.
“This beautiful doe, Nora”—she looks at him and smiles when he says her name—“came up to me in Latin and asked for a fortune telling. She must be confused between Spaniards and gypsies, and I couldn’t disappoint such charm.”
I take a deep and angry breath but see such happiness in her big, light brown eyes. Her freckles are all in the right spots and make her face look healthy and exciting. I pick up her weightless hand and turn it over, wondering if I can think of something that will fool her. When I stare into the delicate open hand, a vision of a similar graceful hand appears out of a torch lit temple room while wafts of spicy, exotic smells assault my nose. Dark lined eyes blink softly at the end of the arm I hold. Full, red lips part into a secret smile. So tangible. So real. A rush of sudden understanding of life, heart, head, and fate lines remerge along with planetary mounds and mystical symbols. Memories? I shake my head and come back to see Nora staring at me expectantly.
“Umm, I see here that you will find a great man, a man that is very powerful.” I think since she’s so beautiful it would make sense she would find a good man. She seems confused at my strange words and looks up to the captain, who translates. She nods happily, and the captain says, “She’s MacClancy’s wife.” I worry then at the captain’s interest in her.
I search her many faint lines for anything that comes to mind. “You worry too much and don’t feel safe.” The captain ap
pears nervous at me saying this, but the beauty nods again in sad agreement. “You have no children yet from this worry. You have had two losses but no children.” The captain gives me a look of warning, and I shrug my shoulders. He translates, and the poor woman grabs my hand and seems to be saying, “Yes,” in her language. She sits back, waiting for more eagerly.
I continue, “You’ll have a child and very soon. She will come by next spring.”
The captain translates this, and she reaches for me, knocking me over, and kisses my hands. She runs off to her friends at the straw hut nearby.
“What did you do?” The captain looks confused. “I only wanted you to say some fluff about living a long happy life, and maybe a chance romance with a dark Spaniard would’ve been a nice touch.” He winks at me.
But the woman drags three other young women to me. There are two pretty young maidens, with a giant of a girl in the middle of them. The tall one sits down for the first reading, her giant man-like hand outstretched. She takes her other hand to her flat unfeminine chest and says in a low voice, “Urard.”
As I tell her of her health and hopeful future, she stares at me with her round olive green eyes. Her face seems half-female and half-male—as if it couldn’t decide what sex it was. I’m very uncomfortable in her awkward presence and make up niceties that will please her so I can move on.
Ending the reading, I say, “A stranger from afar will see your… unusual… beauty.” After the captain translates, she throws her head back strangely and brays like a mule. When she finishes, she points to the captain, then smiles as the other maidens giggle and pat her back in agreement.
“Oh, no no no!” He shakes his head, but Urard blushes and gazes at him strangely. “Move on to the next girl.” The captain wants to be done with this so he can get some distance from the large woman. After I finish the third girl, I look up to see the fish-faced girl has returned with Pepe way too close at her side. She bends down for me to do hers, and I feel sick being so close to her. Andres, who has been quite bored with this attention I’m getting, suddenly is interested with her there.
