by Irene Patino
The fish fat was used to coat his lips and hands to protect them from the sun. He dried the flesh and stored it for later use, just in case he was not able to find land or lucky enough to have a ship find him.
He used the stars and moon to help him navigate at night, he slept during the day covering himself as best he could with his pants, which he removed and split open to add width to the cloth. He was a rather comical vision to behold when first sighted by the crew of the Ophir.
After a total of eight days at sea, the last four were without food or water, Captain Antonio was delirious. He crooned a little tune his father sang to him as a child, thinking himself in his father’s arms.
His skin blistered from the direct sun, he sat naked as a newborn babe with his pants now wrapped around his head. When asked why he’d been put to sea, he responded that he had “pissed on the Queen’s plant.”
The crew and captain of the Ophir attributed the statement to delusion and dismissed him as harmless.
Chapter Six
Juan Antonio Cardo de Patiño was born in a thatch hut at the bottom of what was once a much larger mountain in Spain. His mother, Seberina, died giving birth to a second child two years later. His sibling died shortly after.
Antonio was orphaned when his father was taken to Cabrera, a small island full of caverns in the Balearic Islands off the East coast of the mainland, and banished for crimes committed against the Caliph. Antonio Patiño was charged with ‘poaching’ on the Caliph’s land, a crime innocently committed. The Caliph’s habit of changing the boundaries of his property on a whim endangered any hunter or traveler in the area.
“You have been found guilty of poaching on the Caliph’s property. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“My Lord, I am a free man. The land you speak of was once free. It belonged to the people, not just the Caliph. Many of your people go hungry and try to provide for themselves rather than add to the burden of our kingdom. I beg forgiveness. I beg you to set me free to continue to provide for my child. If you can find it in your heart to do this, I will forever be your servant and do your bidding. I was unaware of the changes in property lines. You have my word that I will never again set foot within your boundaries.”
In an aside to his counselor, the king whispered, “My heart tells me to set him free. My head tells me that he must be made an example to others. What do you say?”
“No choice made by one of such wisdom can be wrong. If you set him free, your people will know that you have a good heart and follow you. If you mete out the deserved punishment, your people will fear you and follow you. Only you can make the decision, Patron.”
“Which makes me wonder then ... why are you here?” The Caliph found the decision an easy one.
“As your Patron, I have made a decision which will be best for the land and people of this realm. Antonio Patiño, you are to be set free at high noon tomorrow. My useless counselor will be hanged in your place. So be it!” The Counselor, Cardinal Jesus de Benitez, fainted. His enemies snickered. The Caliph had spoken, and so it would be.
* * * *
While hunting in the area, the Caliph heard of the abundance of deer and wild hog still existing near the mountain. He claimed it for himself, and hunting was outlawed. He confiscated the land, burned the huts and placed the owners in bondage or killed them on the spot.
Juanito, as his father called him, was hunting rabbit on that day. His path took him far from home, and his curiosity kept him from harm. Juan wandered up the mountain farther than any time previous, drawn to the entrance of the Cuevas Del Drach. His father often told him stories about the place; Juan wanted to be like his father, an explorer of the unknown. Although he never revealed his source, Juan now thought that his father’s stories might have been based on experience more than hearsay.
“There once was a noble tribe of men that lived far into the mountains in our great caves on the island of Majorca itself, very near Porto Cristo. It was a different world than one could see on the surface. The opening of the cave was like entering the mouth of the dragon for which it was named. It grew teeth from above and below. They were first mentioned in a letter in the year 1338 to the dignitaries of Porto Cristo, but it was much later that it was given its name.”
“But Papa, why was it given that name? Did a dragon live there? I thought dragons were mythical creatures made up to scare children like me. Is that not so?”
“No. Not all. Some myths and many legends are based in truth. The day will come, my son, when even you may become part of the lore for children. Perhaps you and I will also be famous one day in the stories that are told. People will hear the story of little Juanito and his adventures at sea and say, “That Juanito Patiño was one courageous fellow. He changed the history of men forever. Quien sabe?”
“Asi es, Papa. No one can say. Tell me more.”
“Of course. Where was I?” Juanito listened intently and remembered everything his father shared.
“You were describing the cave.”
“Yes. Yes. The caves.”
“Some say that the bones found at the entrance are bones left by the dragon of the animals he ate for breakfast. But, farther in, you can find the bones of man mixed in with the bones of animals too. That was what was left of his dinner.
Men sometimes took shelter there. They often painted the animals they saw or drew symbols to tell their stories on the walls of the cave. Some never left the cave because they were surprised by the dragon and eaten on the spot. The towns people testified daily of his satisfied roar.” Juanito shivered.
“What else did the explorers find there?”
“They found two caves. One was white. One was black. But, I have my own thoughts on the cave. I believe it is even bigger than that. It is only the roar of the dragon that has kept the truly brave from exploring its length. Someday someone with courage and heart will explore further. When they do, I believe they will find the dragon itself and proof that others have been there before them.”
“How big is it? Can you stand up in it?”
“From what has been told. Yes. At least ten men on each other’s shoulders could stand and not touch the ceiling.”
“Why do you think they called it The Dragon”?
“The first tribe of men to visit the cave had many thoughts on that subject. It was passed down that the dragon’s voice could be heard at different times of the day and night. It might bellow in anger. The triumphant screeching of victory or even soft sighs of satisfaction might fill the sky, but regardless of the emotions it expressed, it shook the earth and trees like a terrifying storm. The rocks growing from the roof and floor look like petrified teeth, teeth that could only belong to a gigantic creature such as a dragon. The bones surely could only have been left by one such as that, unless, of course, the men were eaten by other men. Men were savage back then. But, the thought of men eating men is too horrible to consider.
Personally, I believe his roar is heard loudest when someone nears the treasure mentioned in fairy tales. He is the guardian that defends the treasure against intruders. He looks like a snake with bat wings, and is as long as the mountain is tall. He has to curl his body in a ball, tucking his tail and wings in to sleep. When in this position, he blends into the rocks and different formations of the cave. There is much more to the caves than is known. Intruders can get lost and die of starvation if not eaten first by the waking dragon. One fellow made it out after three days lost. His hair was white; he raved about an underground ocean. No one believed his lunatic ravings, neither has anyone tried to verify his story.”
“With such treasure, we could all be very happy. We could help our neighbors, and never want for anything again, no?”
“Si, chico. These are the things men dream of.”
* * * *
Legend had it that a dragon still lived there and continued to guard a magnificent treasure. Not long ago, bones of humans were discovered near, and in, the entrance to the main cave as proof. His
intrepid curiosity saved his life when he decided to see it for himself. Nothing would be the same after that. The only dragon involved would be the one harbored by man.
One version of the legend said that the dragon’s roar could be heard late at night as it cried for the loss and suffering of his birthplace, Majorca. Another said that the dragon protected a great pirate treasure. Until the cave was explored all the way to its origin, no one would know the truth.
* * * *
Deep in the cave, his eyes accustomed to the darkness and widened at the paintings left by an ancient tribe his father told him about once. They were called the Magdas.
The magnificent paintings were in red, black and ocher. The artist incorporated the natural relief of the rocks to enhance his drawings, making them come alive. The paintings were clean and the colors still vibrant. Bones of deer, wild boar, horses and bison gave evidence that this cave was once attached to the mainland.
Limestone deposits created a magnificent Cathedral, which even the ancients did not wish to disturb. Great columns rose from the ground to meet the fingertips descending from the ceiling. Water gave a glistening effect and helped to illuminate the floors that held the remains of sea urchins and shells. This royal room must have been beneath the sea at one time. The feeling you came away with was one of having visited a sacred place.
Perhaps this was a gathering place for different tribes, where they traded and bargained for needed items, arranged marriages to insure tribal existence, worshiped their ancestors and paid homage to their Gods. There was no way to know for sure.
Knowing the inherent danger of caves, Juan Antonio thought that perhaps he would come back with his father someday, and they would explore its bowels together. If there were any truth to the stories about the dragon protecting a great pirate treasure, they would be rich.
If the truth was that it housed a dragon saddened by the ways of the world, he could perhaps give it comfort and lighten its burden. But his plans to come back with his father would end abruptly upon his return to the area that once held his home.
* * * *
Only ashes remained of the hut that held everything dear to Juanito. His return should have heralded the young hunter bringing home rabbits, squirrels and fowl for several meals. Rather than elation, he experienced what felt more like a blow to his stomach. He could not catch his breath; he gasped for air.
Instead of sharing an adventure with his father, he found himself alone and orphaned. He did what any boy of eight would do: he dropped to his knees and cried until he could cry no more.
He walked around in the ashes trying to find a sign of some kind that would give him hope. His father told him many times that if anything were to happen to him, he would leave a sign if at all possible. Had he left him a sign? Juanito searched until there was no light left. Whatever had happened, it was swift.
Tracks left by horses circled the hut leaving deep indentations where they reared and stomped. He found signs of something being dragged away and blood on a large boulder. All the signs could be read one way, and only one way.
Bolstering his determination, Juan headed for the next nearest habitat; he wretched when he saw the remains of Jorge Agillar and his family. But he was elated when he did not find his father among them. Junaito prayed for guidance.
“Senior, please, please help me. I am afraid for my father and have no one to turn to. I have always tried to live in your way like my father and mother taught me, but I have little hope. I ask for your guidance and protection, Senior. Amen.”
Juanito waited and listened for some kind of sign, but none came. He swore that the day would come when he would exact revenge for his father and all the other families brutalized by the caliph and his minions. The Emir would pay for his brutality.
* * * *
That night Juan Antonio went back to the cave of the dragon. He made a small fire at the entrance, skinned and cooked a rabbit and fell into an exhausted, fitful sleep.
His dreams were filled with a dragon flying on a white cloud, whirling dervishes and blood. The next morning he finished the last nights’ meal, and threw the bones into the fire just long enough to burn the flesh off. He would use the bones to make a needle, and using the hide and sinew of the rabbit, would begin to make the clothing he would need to get through the coming winter.
* * * *
Not wanting to disturb the royal cave, Juanito moved into one of the neighboring caves nearer Porto Cristo. Cueva del Hams was named so because of the natural formations that looked like fishhooks. It was not as grand as the dragon cave, and his stay was shortened when he awoke to a herd of blind crustaceans crawling across his chest. It unnerved him and he left that night.
Winter would soon set in; he had to find a permanent shelter that offered space and warmth. Although Hams was spacious and boasted a lake of its own, he was not comfortable here. Antonio decided then and there that the Cuevas del Drach, with its ghosts and unknown places, was more suitable with its mild temperature. Even in the coldest weather it would maintain a temperature of only 68 Degrees Fahrenheit. It would afford him the opportunity to explore the caves and discover what lay beyond the myths.
* * * *
Cuevas Del Drach welcomed him with an ocean breeze. Juan could smell that this cave and Hams must both have a subterranean connection to the Mediterranean Sea. He loved the scent of the ocean; it often brought sweet dreams of an adventure on the high seas. During the next three years, he lived in the system of caves on the East coast of Majorca. He left only to hunt and avoided the society of man.
Once, when he wandered too close to one of the little villages, he was stopped by an official and his entourage. When asked from where he hailed, Juan responded with ‘Cuevas Del Drach’.
When asked what his full name was, he drew up straight and told them he was Juan Antonio Patino de Cueva Del Drach. They all laughed, for no one was from Cueva Del Drach. They patted him on the head as if he were addle-pated, and shooed him back into the woods mumbling something about ‘those wild children of the forest’.
Juanito thought them just as amusing and took their direction; he headed back toward the woods. He sniffed the air as he walked and found it salty, like his cave. Following the scent of the ocean, Juanito skirted the town winding his way through the wild olive and pine trees. He could not understand why he could smell his cave from such a distance but stayed his course until he reached the end of land, and saw an expanse of water like never before. As he looked over the cliffs of Porto Cristo, he saw a sight that would burn itself into his mind. He saw his future.
There in the harbor, swaying at anchor, lay the most beautiful vision a young man of fancy could ever imagine. Juanito had seen this very sight in his dreams. The tall ship and a life at sea called to him now, and he answered.
He didn’t understand all his dreams, or the answers he got when he prayed and asked for divine guidance in God’s work, but he trusted that he was led here, to this very spot, for a reason. This was not an accident.
“Thank you, Senior Papa. I think I know why you sent this ship to me. If you see my father, tell him I am doing as he said, and someday the whole world will know who I am.”
For several years after leaving the cave, Juan Antonio Patino de Las Cuevas Del Drach worked and learned all he could about the sea going vessels. He listened to the stories the old sailors told. He knew that stories were often based in truth, and that truth both frightened and fascinated him. His favorite stories were always the ones about ghost ships and pirates.
Chapter Seven
Immortality creates cowards. The Captain of the dragon ship would never be able to join in pitched battle again. He used the power of mind control from a safe distance to direct skirmishes and major attacks. To do otherwise would be an end to the men who stood by him, even in this.
The Ophir would be his ship forever. He could only leave her deck by invitation for very short periods of time. Fortunately, the challenge to ‘come aboard’ came often
. And the swordplay became just that ... swordplay. After all, they were now immortal.
This new breed of vampires would be able to call the wind, create illusions in the mind of other seafaring men and erase memories when needed for safety. But they would never be able to step foot on land again, or so he believed. This would prove to be the bane of their existence. Now there were two races of the undead. One over land and one over sea.
* * * *
The Ophir followed its course to England, and at Captain Antonio’s command, the pirates attacked and took the wealth of several Spanish ships during day battles. His men grew in strength with each battle but became more sensitive to light as time passed.
“Lay to, you scurvy dogs. Face death head to head like the brave men you claim yourselves to be.” Captain Antonio would yell across the space between ships.
“Come aboard Cur, and we’ll see who proves bravest.”
“Boys, you heard the invitation. It’s time to feast!
The One and his tribe feasted off the remaining crew of captured ship, but agreed to remain indoors to prevent the separate factions from fighting one another. What the Pirates lacked in strength, they made up for in ferocity. The One could not afford to have another face off now.
* * * *
On the day when England’s shore was sighted, forgetting Nazim's last words to me, I put into play the plan birthed while at sea. This was a chance to gain freedom from both tribes.
I separated and accumulated the most precious of cargo to keep for myself. I secreted gold, silver, fine clothing and jewels from my Arabian master known as The One, in one of the ten caskets no longer occupied.
When the ship lay at anchor in a lagoon, both tribes waited for that in-between time, the few minutes both tribes would have to shift positions to ones of safety. I took advantage of this freedom to prepare my escape as the vampire pirates stepped aside to allow the lamia tribe to pass by and go ashore.