by Doug Walker
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The cadets thought it strange that García returned without Poncho. He sensed their surprise and told them the dog had been kidnapped.
“Stolen? Someone snatched Poncho?” Jose questioned.
“Yes. It’s true. But there’s more to it. I know who has Poncho and I’m hoping to get him back tomorrow. It’s just a matter of time.”
“Tell us the rest of the story,” Francisco asked.
“It’s too complicated. Also a little unbelievable. The truth is the dog has had past lives and it can remember them. Today we ran into someone from one of his past lives and she took him away. She claims he is her lover.”
“That little dog is someone’s lover?” Jose asked.
“I told you it was too complicated to explain. I’ve already had too much wine. I’ll sleep until dinner. Maybe we can all eat together and forget about Poncho for the evening.”
“But such a small dog,” Jose mused. “If it were a much larger dog the story would be more believable. Are you certain it was Poncho?”
García looked grieved. “Forget it for now.”
“There was a message for you.” Francisco reported. “A Don Rafael de Aranda will call on you tomorrow morning at nine.”
García asked Jose to pull his boots off. “Who is this Don Rafael and what does he want?”
“He didn’t say, but his messenger said he is quite important.”
“Isn’t everybody,” García said, then went to his bed.
García had scarcely finished reading the morning report the following day when Francisco announced Don Rafael’s arrival. They met in a room sometimes used for small conferences. Rafael was young, slim, with bland features, black curly hair and decked out like a popinjay. Feathers, gaudy silks and satins, bits of velvet, billowing trousers of gold cloth embroidered with crossed swords were buckled just below the knees, soft leather shoes more fit for dancing than for a soldier’s gear.
García remembered a passage written by a Spanish military expert of the era: “There has never been a regulation for dress and weapons in the Spanish infantry because that would remove the spirit and fire which is necessary in a soldier. It is the finery, the plumes and the bright colors which give spirit and strength to a soldier so that he can act with furious resolution, so that he can overcome any difficulty or accomplish any valorous exploit.”
García greeted the Don and acknowledged the two companions who accompanied him. Don Rafael introduced the man as his valet and the small woman as his maid and general housekeeper.
The woman was a small Oriental. “Is she Japanese?” García asked.
“Why, yes. I’m surprised you know that. Few Japanese have ventured so far from home. I bought her from a Silk Road trader. Her name is Keiko Watanabe.” Upon hearing her name she bowed to García who returned the gesture.
“It is true,” García said, “that Marco Polo made his famous journey through Asia many years ago. And already Mongols and others were pushing their way westward on the Silk Road. Of course there was some commercial intercourse between the Japans and the mainland. But such a person as Keiko is a treasure. She is like a doll.”
Aware that Don Rafael was an heir to an important family, García was at once interested in learning all he could. He was attempting to amass knowledge that would make him the leading expert in this era globally. He was living it; what better teacher? “And to what do I owe to the honor of your visit, Don Rafael?”
“The honor is mine, Don Pedro. You are known to have the smartest and best disciplined force of all those assembled here, and it is my request that I join you as a cadet.”
Holy shit, García thought, all I need is one more cadet, a valet and a Japanese slave girl, plus Poncho. “I’m flattered by your offer, Don Rafael. Would your intention be to bring the valet and Keiko along?”
“Oh yes, I couldn’t be without them. Also quite a few supplies for my household in London. The fight with the English should only be a slight diversion, then I will be among the rulers of England, as will you. Your nobility is without question.”
“What I’d like to do, if you have the time, is for you to return tomorrow. I’ll have a small boat ready and we can inspect La Anunciada and what space there might be for your needs. I would also like to get to know you better, perhaps we could have lunch or dinner.”
“A splendid idea,” Don Rafael agreed. “Incidentally, I had a few words with your Cadet Francisco. I would like to send the valet and Keiko along to their duties and chat with Francisco at greater length. He could tell me about the life and duties of a cadet.”
“No problem,” García said. “I’ve got a few errands to run. So we will meet again tomorrow at this time.”
García showed up on the parade ground to see his troops turned out, then located Jesus, and they headed for the Trident and Lobster where they found Pilar behind the bar looking ten years younger. She had done something nice to her hair, her dress appeared to be new and her face was made up in quiet good taste.
“I’m glad to see you two,” she said when they entered and promptly poured them drinks, smiling, “they’re on the house.”
Jesus grinned and tossed his down. García was more reserved.
“I know you’ve come about Pepe, and I’m prepared to give you a generous amount of money for taking care of him for me. How’s that?”
“But, Pilar, the dog is mine. I need him.”
“I wish you wouldn’t refer to him as a dog. We have been so long apart and there is so much to catch up on. Surely you wouldn’t think of separating us.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it if it weren’t absolutely necessary,” García said. “You know that Pepe, I call him Poncho, has extraordinary talents. He knows certain things about the English that he has not yet revealed. It is vital that he accompany the Armada as we set off to destroy the English heretics and bring that island back into the bosom of the true church.”
“I can’t believe such a thing,” Pilar said, anguish showing in her voice. “If it’s a matter of money. I have saved quite a bit.”
“I wish that were the only obstacle to uniting the two of you, I would be happy to part with Poncho, or Pepe, knowing that he was happy. But it is in fact a matter of national security. This I promise. After we crush England and return to Lisbon, Pepe will be yours for as long as you both shall endure.”
“It is scant relief, scant hope, to be reunited, then to be ripped apart again is heartbreak. Better that we had never met again.”
“But there is hope. The Armada will sail and the Armada will return. And you have my word as a Spanish officer that Pepe will be yours at that time of return. So, as a God-fearing woman, the last thing you would want is to give in to despair. For hope is eternal.”
Pilar was resigned to her fate. She had placed her trust in money and had been betrayed. Duty to Spain, duty to King Felipe, duty to the church all came first. “No doubt you are right. I know Pepe has special gifts and I have no doubt that he will use them for the good of Spain. I will bathe him tonight and you may pick him up about midday tomorrow. There will be time for us to say goodbye and there will be a time for tears.”
After they had left the tavern, Jesus asked, “Can you trust her?”
“Yes, Jesus, beyond question. Pilar is a good woman who thinks only of her man. She wants Pepe to go forth into the world, to sail with the Armada and do great things for Spain. She will wait the return of her hero.”
“But will you follow through on your promise, my Captain?”
“You can be sure I will if we return to Lisbon in this year, 1586.”
When García returned to his office he was greeted by a badly shaken Francisco.
“Captain García, that man, Don Rafael, he wanted to speak to me in private, and we went into the sleeping quarters. He said he noticed something unusual about my demeanor. What he meant, I don’t know. Then he embraced me and kissed me. It was much like that Juanita with her kisses. He groped me. Again, I kept his hands away fr
om my crotch. Why would he do such a thing? Does he know I’m a woman?”
García pondered, then said, “I don’t think so. He did seem quite the dandy. I think he sensed that you were, or are, effeminate.”
“But, of course. I am a woman. But I don’t let it show.”
“Our good Don may think you are an effeminate man. You know the word homosexual?”
“Why yes, I do. But I’ve heard that is sinful.”
“Technically, yes. Particularly in these days. But it is a fact of life. There are such things. I hate to ask you this, but did you enjoy being kissed?”
Francisco thought a moment, then said. “Once you get over the initial shock, it’s not unpleasant. This time I felt more comfortable being kissed by a man. But now that I know I was being kissed by a man who thought that I was a man, I have second thoughts. Perhaps I would find greater joy in being kissed by Juanita who thought I was a man. But definitely, the situation is confusing.”
“I will see the Don tomorrow and try to see to it that he is never alone with you again. Treat him politely, but don’t give him a big warm smile. Remember, we are soldiers.”
“Yes, I know that well and try to live by the sword. But I wonder if all the cadets in the Spanish military are either women or homosexuals?”
“I hope not,” García replied. “Because you are the future officer corps.” He left Francisco with a pained expression on her face, probably considering a day far ahead when she would be commanding a company of infantry storming a Moorish castle.
The next day went well. Jesus retrieved Poncho from a weeping Pilar who gave him a saucer of her best wine and downed quite a bit herself during the sentimental parting. Jesus also drank his share and even managed to shed a tear.
García gave Cadet Rafael de Aranda a tour of La Anunciada and let him see for himself the cramped quarters he would have to share with the two current cadets. There would be no room for the valet or Keiko Watanabe, or storage space for the household goods he hoped to transport to England.
Seeing how dismayed the young dandy was, García suggested that he could ship out aboard La Regazona, the flagship of his squadron. García’s Levant squadron was one of the smallest. It boasted ten vessels and was commanded by Martin de Berten Doña. But La Regazona was a huge vessel of 1,294 tons and was armed with 30 guns. García knew there was adequate room for Rafael, his retainers and equipment.
“La Regazona is nearby and I see by his flag that the commander is on board. We have the small boat and we can go at once.” Rafael was delighted and, as it came to pass, Martin de Berten Doña was also pleased to welcome another young nobleman aboard. One could not have too many friends among the nobility. The peers of the realm viewed the Armada and the 10 million ducats it had cost to assemble as pleasure transport to England where they would rule.