Treasure Lost

by R. G. Cordiner

  The whip had nine large knots tied on each end. Normally this would have quickly ripped the flesh from a man’s back, but the sap was protecting Chad, for now. James was sweating as he cracked the whip again and bits of sap flew through the air.

  Whhchoo!

  Chad tried to gather his strength. It was only a matter of time now.

  Whhchoo!

  Whhchoo!

  Peter, Aeolus and Farren, along with a few other crew members who were cleaning the deck, flinched as each blow dug deeper into the man’s flesh.

  “Sir!” James stopped, “come and look at this!”

  The Admiral came over. “What? What am I looking at?”

  “The tattoo on his back … it looks like a map!”

  The Admiral leaned closer and stared through the congealed mass of blood, skin and sap and sure enough, he saw what looked like a map. “Copy that down!” he yelled as he raced to his quarters.

  James dutifully began to draw the tattoo onto parchment, as best he could. He did not notice Aeolus moving closer as he cleaned. He glanced at what James had drawn.

  The Admiral returned, breathless, with the other half of the map.

  Excitedly he put the two parts together.

  “At last!” he yelled.

  Chad’s head slumped.

  The Admiral began to walk back to his quarters. James pointed to Chad, “What about him?”

  “Get rid of it. He has no purpose, now that I have what I want.” He walked off.

  James and five other sailors removed the chains from Chad’s defeated body. James thought about inflicting further punishment on the giant pirate but, looking at his tattered back and the bullet holes, he didn’t see the point. The semi-conscious pirate was dragged to the edge of the ship and unceremoniously thrown overboard.

  “Land ahoy!” came the call from the crow’s nest.

  ...

  The Spanish port of Cartagena loomed ahead. So as to minimise their chances of being mistaken for an invading force, the Admiral ordered the other two man of wars to anchor outside the port and he raised a flag of peace as they entered. The port was a bustling wall of noise, activity and stifling heat. Strange smells assailed the Navy crew as the man of war docked. They could see the forest and mountains stretching out into the distance beyond the port. A small force of Spanish soldiers stood waiting for them nervously. As the crew laid anchor and secured the ship, James and the Admiral went ashore.

  Peter, Farren and Aeolus pretended to busy themselves on deck as they watched the heated discussion with the soldiers. They saw the Lieutenant hand over a large bag of what they assumed were coins and the soldiers stood aside. The Admiral then signalled for the crew to disembark. The boys knew this was there only chance and they slowly helped Peter to walk down the ramp. Sweat poured down their brows as each step seemed an eternity. When they reached the bottom of the ramp, a Navy sailor stopped them.

  “Where do you three think you’re going?” he asked.

  Aeolus piped up, “The doctor is very busy at the moment with all the sick and wounded and he asked us to go ashore to get some supplies. He told us that this one,” he nodded his head at Peter, “could do with the exercise. I wish he hadn’t because he’s a dead weight,” he rolled his eyes, “but hey, orders are orders.”

  The sailor looked them over suspiciously. “I suppose, go on then.”

  The three boys made their painstakingly slow way into the city. Each step they took, they were waiting for the shout to come from the man of war… but none came.

  They paused in a nearby alleyway to catch their breath.

  ...

  The Admiral was also puffing, but he could not afford to rest. He, James and three of the crew were now in their third alehouse. Still, he had yet to find anyone who could tell him what the ship ‘Ursula’ was. No one had heard of it. What was worse, every drunken fool they tried to bribe made it harder to conceal the reason for their arrival. The Admiral turned to James, “We’re not getting anywhere. Either they are too suspicious and aren’t telling us, or just too stupid. Let’s buy some clothes and try and blend in.”

  “Sir, I can handle this. It is a risk you being in the city,” James insisted.

  “James, as soon as we know, I want to be there. I’ve been chasing this for too long to let it slip away now.”

  “It just seems odd that the map does not mention the Spanish ship, sir”

  “Yes. I know and it’s starting to annoy me.”

  ...

  Several miles further south in a natural bay, the Nemesis stood anchored. Two rowing boats had been dragged up onto the jungle entwined shore. As the remainder of the crew remained behind to patch up the Nemesis and restock, Mara’s face remained impassive as she and five of the pirates hacked and slashed their way through the jungle. They should be at Cartagena in less than five minutes, Mara thought. She hoped that the Navy would still be there to meet them.

  ...

  “Wait!” Peter was still leaning against the wall and he was beginning to feel quite light headed. Of course the oppressive heat didn’t help, since the sweat and flies were in his still recovering wounds. Farren and Aeolus turned and rushed back to his side.

  “I don’t know if I can make it, the pain is just too much. My head is spinning …” Peter slumped into Farren’s arms. Farren turned to Aeolus.

  “Take him. Watch him. I’ll try and get help,” he said.

  “Be careful.”

  Farren set out into the city unsure as to where to go. Who could help him? He knew he needed to keep moving, the Navy crews were very busy stocking up on supplies but he knew that they had been lucky to get past the guard and may not be so again. But he was in a foreign city, didn’t speak the language and was running out of time.

  Chapter 13

  Clue Solved?

  Admiral Fairclough was feeling very uncomfortable. Having exchanged his uniform for some ill-fitting civilian clothes, he felt decidedly out of place. However, he wanted the treasure almost more than he wanted to finally have Mara at the end of his sword so that he could finish what the shark could not. So he reluctantly walked across the town square, ignoring the stares from the locals. He made a mental note to return and raze this god forsaken place to the ground. James, who seemed equally ill at ease, suddenly turned.

  “Admiral, what if it still is the Atocha?”

  “What the devil are you on about boy? What is it heatstroke? Or some form of idiocy? Heaven help us if it’s contagious.” He smirked at his own joke.

  James gritted his teeth and persevered, “I meant, what if the map still is referring to the Atocha but the Saint Ursula is just a clue to the treasure’s location.”

  The Admiral stopped in his tracks.

  “Hmm, you may have something there, boy.”

  “Is it contagious sir?” James instantly regretted his sarcasm. The Admiral glared at him.

  “Thank you, James. Let’s leave the humour to me, what? Now, I can’t remember anything about Saint Ursula.”

  James and the other three Navy sailors thought for a while but none could recall who she was.

  “Right, well then let’s spread out and meet again in half an hour,” ordered the Admiral.

  ...

  “Let’s spread out and meet again in half an hour,” ordered Mara as she and the pirate crew arrived on the outskirts of Cartagena. “And Renard, try not to kill anyone yet please.”

  Renard frowned, “Not even a couple?”

  Mara sighed, “Only if you absolutely have to.”

  Renard grinned.

  One of the pirates asked the captain, “So what are we looking for then?”

  Mara shook her head. She was constantly amazed that some of the pirates had enough intelligence to elect her captain, let alone more complicated tasks like walking and talking at the same time.

  “Well, I assume the Navy have caught Chad, which means they have at least half the map.”

  “So Chad had the map then?”

  Ma
ra gritted her teeth.

  “Yes he did. So anyway, they will come here to repair and restock, just as we have. We need to find out what they know and if they have the other half of the map.”

  “What other half?”

  “One more question like that,” Mara thought, “and I’ll cut you in half!”

  “The other half that Aron was supposed to get back, but only ended up getting himself killed before we could get our hands on it,” she snapped.

  “Oh, that half,” said the pirate.

  Mara turned and cut him in half with her sword anyway. There was only so much stupidity a person could take.

  ...

  Aeolus was also thinking about the map. He had seen what James had been drawing and the other half when it was handed to the Admiral. He had a good memory and although he only had a rough idea of the shape of the island, he could remember the words ‘Saint’ and ‘Ursula’. It sounded familiar, but from where? He looked down at Peter who was unconscious. He was of no help. He contemplated leaving, but thought better of it. The boys still may be useful. He wasn’t a big fan of digging for one thing.

  And then he remembered.

  Santa Ursula y las Once Mil Vírgenes.

  He recalled a sailor once telling him that it was the original name that Christopher Columbus gave what the islands now known as Las Virgenes – the Virgin Islands! He jumped up and down in excitement! Now, how to get there?

  “I could go and tell the Admiral, but I’m sure he would be only temporarily grateful,” Aeolus thought, “once the treasure was found he’d then be grateful to be rid of me. I know the treasure is on one of the islands. But which one? I need a map of all of them, but even then, I’m not sure I could recognise the island shape as I’ve only briefly seen both parts. And even then, I don’t have the actual path that I need to follow.” He grimaced as his frustration began to fester. “So how can I best use this knowledge to my advantage? I either need to get the map itself, or ally with the captain and then somehow get the treasure off him when he’s probably going to be highly suspicious and surrounded by plenty of troops. So then the best time to get the treasure is now – by seizing the map. He probably will have lot fewer people with him. But how do I steal it?” Aeolus remained deep in thought until just before Farren eventually returned, when he finally came upon the answer. It was obvious!

  ...

  It took Farren a long time of fruitless searching and asking the wrong people the wrong questions, and countless mimes that would have been hilarious in any other context, before he made any headway. There were a number of close calls with sailors walking by and almost spotting him, and once, he almost thought he saw some of the pirates from the Nemesis, but he didn’t linger around long enough to ask them. But finally he met a young couple who spoke a smattering of English, enough that he could explain the urgency of his need. They took him to a local doctor and translated Farren’s request for help. The doctor grabbed some supplies and then followed Farren who, after thanking his anonymous good samaritans, frantically led the way towards the alley.

  ...

  It took all of Aeolus’ limited patience to restrain himself from discussing his revelation about the map. He knew that he still needed the help of these two, for now, as he was unable to enact his plan without them. Furthermore, he realised that Farren’s primary concern was his brother which, to a certain extent, was also Aeolus’ worry. It would be easier with all three of them, after all.

  “Farren! So glad you’re back,” Aeolus exclaimed with a worried frown, “I’ve not taken my eye’s off Peter this whole time and he is showing no signs yet of improvement. Who’s that?” he added, nodding at what appeared to be a native tribesman.

  “He’s a doctor.” Farren rushed to his brother’s side.

  The doctor carefully examined Peter and then rummaged in his bag and produced a variety of lotions and creams that he proceeded to put on Peter’s wounds. He pulled out what looked like a herb or plant of some kind and placed it under Peter’s tongue. Farren hovered impatiently. Aeolus watched with mild interest. The doctor leaned back and nodded. He turned to Farren and grabbed his leg. He then reached into his bag and grabbed a container of green, putrid smelling gunge which he slapped onto Farren’s shin.

  Farren was startled at first, but then remembered the splinter injury. He was so caught up in everything, he had almost forgotten!

  The doctor turned to Aeolus who flinched as he was scrutinised. The man scrunched his painted face as he looked him up and down and then he turned, packed his bag and nodded towards Farren, who thanked him profusely. With that, the native doctor was gone.

  Farren knelt next to his brother and watched him, as if willing him to get better. Aeolus could finally contain himself no longer, “I’ve solved it Farren!”

  “Solved what?” he asked distractedly.

  “Why, the map of course! I know where the treasure is!”

  Farren’s sense of adventure that had lain dormant beneath the surface for so long began to bubble. “What do you mean? How is that possible?”

  “Well I have only briefly seen both bits of the map, but I did manage to see the words ‘Saint Ursula’. An old friend of mine once told me that the first name that Christopher Columbus gave to the Virgin Islands was Santa Ursula y las Once Mil Vírgenes. Get it – Saint Ursula – Virgin Islands! And they’re only just off the coast!” Aeolus jumped in the air.

  “Oh my god,” Farren’s head swirled again with visions of treasure and adventure but then, the cloud cleared. “But, hang on … we don’t have the map. How do you know which of the Virgin Islands holds the treasure, let alone how to get to it and where to dig? We are actually no nearer.”

  “But we could be.”

  Farren frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  Aeolus paced up and down the cramped alley. “We could take the map, the three of us. The Admiral is in the city. He will only have two or three sailors with him. We could ambush them, the three of us, take the map and then we can go and get the treasure for ourselves.”

  “Hold on, hold on. Are you serious? Have you actually looked at the three of us? It’s a miracle that we’ve survived this long, but you want to go and attack the Admiral of the Royal Navy in broad daylight, steal a map that’s brought nothing but death, and then somehow get the treasure and get away? And this is after we had already said that we just wanted to go home!” Farren’s voice was raised.

  “Ok, so how are you going to get home then? There aren’t many ships that are going to go from here all the way back to your village. Basically you will have to go back to the navy or the treasure ships, which are unlikely to take you. Or of course you could pay – but then you’d need a lot of money.”

  “We could work to earn the money, or we could go on a merchant ship,” Farren tentatively suggested.

  “You could, but it could take six months. Is your brother going to be alright for six months in the New World? Away from modern medicine?” Aeolus suggested.

  Farren fell silent.

  “Farren?” Peter’s voice was faint.

  “Peter, are you alright?” Aeolus dashed to his side.

  “Yeh, actually, I feel a lot better. Rested.” He looked at Farren and then Aeolus, “What’s going on?”

  “Aeolus thinks we should ambush the Admiral to steal the map, because he’s worked out that the treasure is on one of the Virgin Islands. He thinks that we are going to struggle to get home without the money.”

  “That map has bought so much trouble, can’t you just let it go?” asked Peter.

  “Look, Peter, Farren. This is your chance … your chance to set yourselves up for life. Let’s say, somehow, you manage to get back home. Then what? You’ll end up working for the rest of your life, struggling to make ends meet. But this is your chance to change all of that. In one day, we could have more treasure than we can spend. How many times in our lives do we get a chance to do something like this? What’s more, how many times over the last months h
ave I been there for you? And all I’m asking is that you are there now for me, in return for untold riches – and you think it’s a bad deal!” Aeolus pleaded.

  Peter sighed, “Fine Aeolus, we’ll do it.”

  Farren stared at his brother.

  “Look, maybe he’s right. Maybe this is our chance. We don’t have anything back home now. We’ve come half way around the world and survived this much – maybe this is a way of taking something back, something positive from this whole thing,” Peter argued.

  “I suppose,” Farren reluctantly agreed.

  Peter smiled as he stood up. “Right, so what’s the plan, Aeolus?”

  Aeolus grinned, “It’s quite simple really. I have some coin I have saved. We get ourselves a crossbow each and then search the city until we find the Admiral. If he hasn’t worked it out already, he is probably looking for the answers to the map so he will be near an alehouse, most likely. That will be our best chance, as he’s unlikely to have too many of the crew with him as it would look suspicious and he would then be less likely to get the information he seeks. So then we draw the crossbows, tell him to hand it over and then dash to the wharf as quickly as possible. Easy!”

  ...

  So, despite their scepticism over Aeolus’ plan, the boys soon found themselves standing outside their third pub, with a loaded crossbow concealed under their hooded cloaks. They entered the smoky room. It was fairly dark and subdued inside. Low voices murmured in murky alcoves. The three young men lingered in the doorway, eyes scanning the room. Aeolus turned to face the brothers.

  “I see him. He’s over in the far corner in that booth. The Lieutenant and one other sailor is with him. Now’s our chance.”

  “Hang on.” Farren frowned. “What exactly do you want us to do?”

  “Follow my lead and if in doubt, shoot. The British have very few friends here.”