by Shirl Henke
Francisco paused and turned, his shrewd brown eyes glowing as they met Aaron's level blue ones. “Back in Xaragua you offered such, and I said I would think on it...and I have. Yes, I would make peace with the Admiral of the Ocean Sea and his adelantado, if they will hear reasonable terms.”
“Which are?” Aaron prompted.
Roldan rubbed his neck. “First, I would value not having this stretched. I hear they have kept the gallows in Ysabel quite busy here of late. And...” he hesitated as he resumed rubbing down the horse, “I have two caravels loaded with prime brazilwood—which as you know I cannot sell in any port in Castile unless I give over a share to the governor and he allows the ships to sail.”
“There is also the royal fifth to be paid,” Aaron reminded him.
“Done—if I am allowed to keep the ships for future ventures. The crews are loyal to me.”
“They mutinied when sent from Cadiz to supply the colonists at Ysabel,” Aaron said.
“You know how unpopular the Genoese are and what chaos reigned in Ysabel when first they arrived. But I have kept the ships safe and gathered a highly profitable cargo in the meanwhile. Surely that should give me a share of ownership.” He waited, his shrewd gaze studying his companion.
“You drive a hard bargain,” Aaron replied grudgingly.
Roldan laughed. “That should make the Genoese admire my skills all the more!”
Together the two men returned to the village for food and rest, but a runner from Ysabel had arrived just before them and Guacanagari summoned him to his audience chamber. After all the introductions were completed, Aaron read the missive from Cristobal.
A frown marred his forehead as he said, “Hojeda has escaped to the interior, where he will doubtless stir up more grief.”
“This news distresses you, my friend. Surely one man, even one such as this can do no harm before he is captured by Don Cristobal,” Guacanagari said.
“Let us hope so, but we must act quickly before he can break the peace so hard won in the interior.” Aaron's gaze shifted from Guacanagari to Roldan and then a smile twitched at the corners of his lips. “Perhaps this is your means to redeem yourself. You know Alonso well.”
“A cocky little bastard but a hell of a man to have on your side in a fight,” Francisco replied.
“I would as leave never turn my back to his blade, but if he trusts you...” Aaron let his words fade suggestively.
“I catch the drift of your idea. Yes, I suppose I might convince Alonso that service under the Colons is to be preferred to service over a gallows. If I can be pardoned, mayhap so can he.”
“Only if he will cease his butchering of Tainos. I think it best if he sailed for Cadiz as soon as he is properly received back into the good graces of the governor. I shall send Magdalena ahead to treat with Cristobal and Bartolome. She has more influence with them than anyone. If we bring Alonso to heel, I think things will go well for you both.”
“I believe Alonso will be delighted with the prospect of returning home. He can wring little gold from the Tainos and since Caonabo, Behechio, and even the formidable Roldan are all brought to recognize the crown and its representatives, he will find Española a tame and useless place indeed!” Roldan replied in the Taino tongue.
Even Guacanagari joined their jovial smiles.
If the men were all well pleased with their plan, Magdalena was not. When they returned to their bohio, Aaron sat down and extracted his writing instruments from his saddle bags. Before he could begin to pen a letter to Cristobal, Magdalena rounded on him.
“Men, pah! You and Francisco will go off chasing that vicious little cur while I must lobby for him with the governor. Let Francisco risk his life on Hojeda. Why should you?”
He looked up at her in surprise. “You were fortunate that Roldan championed you against Guzman and Guerra. Do you not wish to see him pardoned?”
Magdalena knelt by his side, earnest entreaty in her eyes. “Of course I do. I am most grateful for his help, but I do not see why we must include Alonso Hojeda in the bargain—or why you must go chasing after him. He is dangerous, Aaron.” And there is so much else I long to share with you, if only the time is right.
“I am the commandant of the interior, at least for now. 'Tis my duty to apprehend an escaped prisoner.”
Magdalena signed. “I suppose you must do this, but what after? I would have you resign as commandant.” She held her breath.
“I owe Cristobal much. Let me think on it. Will you to Ysabel to plead Roldan's cause?”
Her soft smile was his answer as she framed his face with her hands and kissed him. “Tomorrow you will ride after Hojeda. Tonight I will ride you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cristobal Colon was a weary man. He sat at the heavy wooden table in his private office, staring at the charts and navigational instruments as he ran his gnarled fingers over the smooth pages of his log book from the first voyage. “Such beauty, such strange lands we chart among these islands, but where lies Cathay? Where Cipangu? Where is the great mainland of Asia?”
He ached to feel the rolling rhythm of ship's planks beneath his feet. How he hated the flat calm of the cold stone floor upon which he now spent his days. The letters and instructions arriving with disturbing regularity from the Majesties indicated their extreme displeasure with the fiscal return from his explorations, and more particularly their displeasure with his colonial policies in governing Española.
The enslaved, rebellious Tainos sent as tribute to the monarchy mostly died enroute. They made poor servants, being of weak physical constitutions in the colder climates of Europe. Everywhere, in Castile and on Española, they perished from the most minor of European diseases. The queen had been able to send pitifully few clergy to convert them to the true faith. He sighed, recalling the butchery when men with cannon and arbalest fired into the human walls of Tainos armed only with puny darts and wooden spears. “We offer them only death and that without salvation for their souls.”
If only he could find the mainland with its vast wealth, great cities, and brilliant civilizations. Then all his failure here on Española would be forgotten, but as long as the contentious Castilian nobility poured in and out of Ysabel, fighting among themselves and abusing the Indians, he was chained to his civil post.
His eyes, red-rimmed from a recent bout of inflammation, again scanned the royal missive. Soon his enemies at court would be gratified, for a royal chamberlain, Juan Aguado, was on his way to investigate all the claims of malfeasance laid by Buil, Margarite and a host of other Castilians against the Colon family and most especially against him as governor. He had already sent his youngest brother back to plead his case at court, but it seemed Diego had little effect on the royal politics.
Just then a soft knock on his door brought Cristobal from his sad reverie. “Enter,” he commanded, expecting a servant or some supplicant in trouble with the law. His face softened with a gentle smile when he saw Magdalena.
“Am I disturbing you, Cristobal?” she asked, eyeing the logs, letters, and other official-looking documents strewn about his office.
“Of course not. I am most heartily happy to see you returned safely to Ysabel. What of the boy?” he asked, knowing well how long and arduously Aaron had searched for Navaro.
“I fear Aliyah lied and Navaro is dead. That, or else she keeps her promise from beyond the grave. She told my lord he would never find his son, even if he searched forever.”
“And, of course, knowing Aaron, he will never relent,” Colon said gently. “Is he yet in the interior going from village to village?”
“No. He has received word of Hojeda's escape from Bartolome and given chase.” Magdalena debated how to broach the subject of Francisco's desire for a pardon. “While he searched the interior for Navaro, Roldan visited every village in Xaragua for us. The boy is not there.”
Cristobal's watery blue eyes took in her earnest face as he escorted her to sit at the table and poured them each a mug of w
ine. “You like this rebel rascal,” he said, prompting her to speak.
A slight smile curved her lips as she sipped the wine. “Aaron said you were ever a genius at reading people's thoughts. Yes, I owe him my life. When Guzman brought me to Xaragua, I shudder to think what might have befallen me but for Don Francisco. Now Roldan has gone with Aaron. Together they will capture Hojeda. I would wager on it.”
Colon sighed. “If only that would end the dissension.”
“Once the Castilian malcontents are subdued and civil order restored, Bartolome tells me you wish to return to the royal court and plead for more funds to find the mainland.”
“In truth, I go to court to plead my own case. Buil, Margarite, many another good Castilian, Argonese, even a Catalan has gone before me to slander how I have governed. I fear I am competent only aboard ship. Life on solid ground does not sit well with me.”
Magdalena smiled. “Quite the opposite of my husband.”
“Surely he did not confess such. He was always at pains to hide the seasickness from all,” Cristobal said with evident surprise on his face.
“He could not hide it from Francisco, who revealed it to me in Xaragua,” Magdalena replied with a chuckle. “My lord did not take it well that we made merry of his affliction.”
“I can imagine that,” the admiral said, some of his humor returning for a moment as he recalled the seasick young fleet marshal. “Aaron would rather have paddled a canoa across all the islands of the Indies than sailed aboard ship for a few weeks. Yet he crossed the Atlantic in a terrible gale and returned again with me to Española. ”
“And you will return to the court. I know your courage, Cristobal. You will plead your case with the Majesties and win their support anew.” Magdalena prayed such would be the case as she studied the weary, prematurely aged man who sat before her with the glow of a visionary still lighting his eyes.
“I will return to Castile of a certainty. My sons are there, as is Fernando's mother, a woman I hold in great affection. Yes, I will try again. There is so much yet to do, to explore, places no European has seen in hundreds of years—some places where no Christian has ever trod. I would be the one to see the great Khan.” His shoulders slumped as he touched the compass sitting by his hand amid the clutter. “But until the civil unrest on Española is quelled, I am a prisoner to this land.”
“If Aaron and Francisco bring Hojeda to you—and if both rebels pledge to support you, would that not provide the tranquility you need to then set sail?” Magdalena asked.
“You are persuasive, my lady. Yes, perhaps it would allow me to return, but first—”
The loud sound of cannon fire followed by the blare of trumpets interrupted his speech. Both Colon and Magdalena leaped to their feet and walked to the door. A messenger from the harbor came racing down the long stone hallway, his booted feet echoing on the bare floor.
“Don Juan Aguado bids you come to the beach! The royal emissary direct from the king and queen has arrived aboard a fleet filled with food and wine! We are saved!” the fat little Catalan said, not looking in the least as if he had suffered a day's privation while on Española.
“Royal emissary, indeed. He is a court chamberlain of no particular rank who sailed with me on the second voyage and returned home fast enough last fall. I requested that a trustworthy judge come to Española, a man who would study the problem and then report back about the rebellion and laziness of the nobility here,” Colon muttered as he and Magdalena walked into the hall. He turned to the messenger, and instructed him, “Bid Don Juan come to the governor's palace. Tis much cooler here and I would not have him overtaxed awaiting me on the beach in this hot climate.”
Magdalena watched Don Cristobal turn stiffly and bow to her. “I fear I must make ready to receive one of Queen Ysabel's peacocks. I would not take it ill if your husband and his friend Roldan returned to Ysabel with a subdued Alonso Hojeda thrown in to sweeten the bargain.”
“I devoutly believe they will return quickly, your Excellency,” Magdalena replied, praying what she said would come to pass. The governor needed a miracle—and quickly.
The interview between the Colons and Aguado went poorly indeed. The chamberlain quickly set his scribes to recording the testimony of every malcontent in Ysabel. All blamed the Colons for everything from crop failures to Taino rebellions, even for the dwindling amounts of gold found in Española's rivers!
The miracle arrived early the following week, and none too soon. Two caravels bobbed into the sparkling water of the bay, sending off a shot of cannon as signal.
Before the ship's boats were lowered, the clatter of horses' hooves in front of the governor's palace announced a bearded, dusty rider's arrival. As he leaped from the saddle, Aaron tossed Rubio's reins to a startled Taino servant. He climbed the wide, flat steps with ground-devouring speed and was greeted by Bartolomé Colon with a hearty bear hug.
“From the look on your face, I would say you know whose ships those be entering the harbor with such boisterous display.”
Aaron's eyes rounded in innocence. “Why, 'pon my soul, Don Bartolome, know you not that they are the governor's ships? Slightly delayed by way of Xaragua, but now filled with a valuable cargo of brazilwood—and bearing two loyal sons of the crown who long to return to their governor's fatherly embrace.”
“You and Roldan took Hojeda—and convinced that arrogant little prig to swear allegiance to Cristobal?” The adelantado's eyes glowed with pure delight. “God's bones, tis time something went well for my brother!”.
“I heard rumors as far away as Guacanagari's village about a royal visitation. Let us hope this token of tribute from Roldan will win us royal favor,” Aaron replied grimly. Then, looking down at his dusty clothes, he added, “If this emissary from court is one for ceremony, mayhap I should bathe and dress for the occasion.”
“Magdalena is at your bohio. She left after the midday meal for a brief nap. I think she will be well pleased to see you returned,” Bartolomé said with a wink.
“What? She is not tending the sick at Chanca's hospital?” Aaron asked, surprise, then worry flashing across his face. “She is not fallen ill?”
“The lady seemed in the bloom of health. Only go and see for yourself. I shall arrange to greet our visitors and escort them to the governor's palace. You have earned our gratitude once again, my friend,” the adelantado said. Then he could not resist adding, ”Tis passing strange that you would ride overland when you could have joined Roldan and Hojeda upon the caravel's grand entry.”
Aaron turned and fixed Bartolomé with a level stare. “By the twenty-four balls of the twelve apostles, has she told everyone?” Then, unexpectedly, he threw back his head and laughed. “To hell with it. I shall pass precious little time at sea ever again, so I care not.”
Aaron walked across the plaza toward home. Odd, the small neat bohio was scarce the home of his dreams, certainly not pitched amid the squalor and disease of Ysabel, yet he realized that home was now wherever Magdalena dwelled. Together they could make any place tolerable, even this colony.
He called her name as he entered the door. Stepping inside, Aaron allowed his eyes to accustom themselves to the dimness. It was a hot day, the sun dazzlingly brilliant outdoors. The bohio was empty. With a muttered curse, he turned back toward the door and nearly collided with Analu.
As if reading Aaron's worried mind, the Taino smiled and said, “The mistress is at the river with other women washing clothes.”
“She has two servant girls handsomely paid to do the scrubbing,” he grumbled, looking at the fire pit outside the bohio. Nothing bubbled in the empty pot over the unlit pile of kindling wood. “Welcome home!” he muttered sourly. Then an unholy light gleamed in his eyes as he rubbed his beard-bristled chin. “Analu, send to the palace for Rubio.”
Several minutes later, the laughter and chatter of Taino and Castilian dialects was broken by the splashing noise of a horse's hooves churning through the water. The Indian women and a smattering o
f tradesmen's wives, along with a more numerous group of women from the Sevìllian waterfront, ceased their labors to admire the tall, golden man mounted on the big bay horse.
“Is he not grand?” one young whore whispered in awe to her companion, letting a length of linen tunic drop from her hands into the water with a splash.
“He is the governor's commandant, no one for the likes of us,” the older woman replied bitterly, thinking of all the maravedis lost to her enterprise when Aaron's red-haired lady arrived from Castile.
All eyes, Taino and Castilian, turned from Aaron to Magdalena, who stood waist-deep in the clear rushing water, with a mound of scrubbed clothes piled on a large worn rock. She was wrestling with a length of cloth when Rubio came charging through the deep water toward her.
“I have already warned you about consorting with these women. You have servants aplenty to do manual tasks. All I ask is you oversee a hot meal for your husband. Is that too difficult?” he called out as he reached down to toss her across his saddle.
Magdalena raised her sodden cudgel of heavy cotton and swung it with a lusty plop against his chest. “You want washing more than these clothes. Also you want manners!” she cried as he ducked and Rubio shied, splashing her with a torrent of water. She snarled a remarkable oath as he again turned the bay toward her, but this time when he reached out his arm, she was unable to avoid his grasp. As the river's swift current caused her to lose her balance, she all but fell into his embrace.
Aaron lifted her up and swung her across his saddle, then took off amid the catcalls and cheers of the Castilian women. The Tainos stood in round-eyed wonder and hid a few giggles behind their hands. They all watched Magdalena wriggle on her precarious seat and Aaron swat her buttocks until she let out a fierce oath. By that time the lovers had disappeared from sight around a curve in the river where the jungle claimed a patch of hilly ground.
Aaron slowed Rubio's gait long enough to pull his soaked wife up onto the horse in a sidesaddle position. “You have soaked me and my horse!”