Legends of the Vengeance : The First Adventure (9781310742866) (18 page)

“He saved me after that man murdered my
mother. If I had died too—”

“He would have died as well. His body would
have lived, but who he is inside would have died. He would have had
no reason to live.” Jaime nudged him. “Never think he regrets it.
He doesn’t.”

Hector’s terrified scream of an enormous
wave sent Eduardo scrambling up the mast and then back down again,
with Hector nearly sitting on his shoulders in his desperation to
get out of the precarious perch. The ship rocked. Waves washed
overboard and sent men sprawling across the deck. The oarsmen
tried, but the strength of men was no match for the strength of the
sea.

Jaime pointed to his cabin. “Go.”

“I can help—”

“Your best help right now is being where
your father knows you are safe.”

With each step, it became harder to make it
across the ship. The waves poured water over the sides and the
spray drenched him. Sebastian stumbled, sliding across the deck as
the ship lurched leeward.

“Sebastian!” His father’s terrified voice
barely reached him over the shouts of the crew and the roar of the
sea in the wind.

He waved his arm to show he hadn’t been
injured. The wind blew his father’s hat into the ocean, and
Sebastian’s eyes locked with his papa’s. “I am fine!” he screamed
over the gale that seemed to rise about them.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I am fine,” his son screamed above the gale
that had formed almost out of nowhere.

Before Nicolo could respond, a huge wave
crashed over the deck, washing three men overboard. The captain’s
eyes scanned the deck, searching for his son. Sebastian seemed to
have vanished.

Storm

Coughing and sputtering, Sebastian grabbed
on to the mast and held on. The ship listed so far that it seemed
as though it would topple completely. His eyes sought his father,
but Eduardo now gripped the wheel, and his father seemed to have
vanished.

Where had he gone? A captain does not leave
the helm at such a time. Surely, such an excellent sailor would not
have been washed overboard—would he? The question made his stomach
churn. Frantically, he scanned the boat for Jaime. Shoes, bare
feet, even breeches and hair— he observed them all, but Jaime
seemed gone as well. Turk rolled past him, heading straight for the
railing that nearly touched the water. Sebastian twisted, sticking
out his foot. “Grab on!”

Relief washed over him as Turk’s hand
grabbed his ankle. The young man tried to crawl up the deck,
holding on to Sebastian, struggling to grab on to the mast as
well.

The ship lurched again. Waves too strong,
even for Eduardo to control, spun the ship however they pleased,
rolling it to the other side unexpectedly. Taken by surprise, the
motion flung Turk against the rail and knocked him senseless.
“Noooooooo!”

Sebastian leaped to save the young man
before he was tossed overboard, but strong arms jerked him back.
“You can’t help him. Hold on tight and look away.”

Jaime. At least Jaime was safe. “Where’s
Papa?”

“I don’t know. I’ve got to get down to the
oarsmen and have them lean. I’m sure they’re doing it, but...”

Jaime’s words made sense. If the men all
piled on the opposite side of the ship that threatened to roll into
the sea, it helped to keep the ship level. It helped, but it didn’t
solve the problem. Only calmer waters removed the danger. As long
as they could keep afloat until the storm ended, they’d be fine.
They’d weathered worse, hadn’t they?

As if his thoughts had tempted God to prove
how bad things could be, thunder roared and the skies dumped rain
down on them in sheets. Sebastian panicked. His hands slipped with
each attempt to grab tighter to the mast. He couldn’t stay there.
The distance to the little cabin his father had built for him so
many years earlier seemed endless, but he had to get there. That
would be the safest place for him now. He wanted to search for his
father but knew he wasn’t large enough. His arms were too short to
hold on to the mast well. He was too thin—too scrawny—to be of any
use. The best thing for all was to get out of the way and to
safety. No one would worry about him if they knew he was safe.

Determined, he glanced around him. The
closest sailor was Filipe. “I’m going to my cabin. Tell Papa and
Jaime if you see them!” he yelled, hoping his words wouldn’t be
lost in the crash of thunder and sizzle of lightning.

Filipe shrugged, clearly not understanding.
“My cabin! I—” he pointed to himself, “—go—” he pointed in the
direction of the cabin, “—to my cabin!” Feeling silly, he made a
one-handed sleeping motion that he prayed the man would understand.
Filipe nodded.

Mac stumbled out on deck, ready to help. He
saw Sebastian and rushed to assist. “Well, now, laddie,” he roared
over the din, “I’m thinkin’ ye be needin’ to get outta here.”

He nodded. “I’m going to my cabin. Tell Papa
and Jaime if you see them!” Mac started to lead the way, but
Sebastian held on to the mast. “No! Go help Eduardo. He can’t
control the wheel. I’ll get there.”

“It’s too wet—too dangerous. I’ll help ye
first.”

Adamant, Sebastian pushed the larger man
away. “I can
do
this!” With those words, a great wave washed
overboard, throwing Mac across the ship as though he weighed
nothing. He crashed into the wheel with a look of surprise and held
on to it. Sebastian grinned to himself. “Well, that was one way to
get there quickly.”

He saw Mac shouting to Eduardo. The
quartermaster looked for Sebastian; their eyes met. The man nodded
at him—understanding. Now all he had to do was wait for the next
roll.

It came sooner than expected and sooner than
he’d have liked. The moment the wave tossed the boat leeward again,
Sebastian ran against the roll, grabbing a rail here, a beam there,
until he reached the door of his cabin. Water washed over him,
nearly jerking his hand from the door, but he managed to scramble
into the room and shut the door behind him.

His eyes blinked as he tried to adjust to
the darker space. Every inch of it dripped with water. The porthole
had allowed much too much water into the room. Two inches of water
covered the floor, but at least he was safe. His father would be
proud. He had done what they would want him to do rather than what
he wished to do. That had to count for something, didn’t it?

Feeling the satisfaction of forthcoming
praise, Sebastian struggled to reach his bunk. He’d lay there until
the worst was over. After his first step, the boat jerked suddenly,
throwing Sebastian off his feet and into the wall. The room spun
wildly, terrifying him. Was the boat sinking? Why—how—did it spin
so crazily? Panic overtook him seconds before everything went
black.

~~~~~~~~~~

The moment Nicolo lost sight of his son, his
heart sank. If he had brought them all out there to die, may God
have mercy on his son’s soul and may his burn in hell. It would be
too little punishment.

He felt the ship lurch again, but with his
concentration centered on finding Sebastian, he couldn’t grab on to
the railing. The result sent terrifying shockwaves through him—even
for such a seasoned sailor. The waves flung him against his cabin
door and then onto the railing. With hands barely holding on to the
slippery wood, he swung one leg over the side, but another rock
sent him flying—this time across the roof of his cabin, along the
quarterdeck, and onto the little ledge the crew used to relieve
themselves. There he huddled, semi-protected from the rock and roll
of the ship but cold, wet, and unable to leave. If he tried to
climb back over the rail, he’d be tossed into the ocean.

For a moment, the idea seemed worth it.
Sebastian had disappeared in one of the great waves. The boy was
probably dead. He’d failed her—Sebastian’s mother—he had truly
failed her. Reason returned to him before the next wave threatened
to topple the ship. Risking his life to do the impossible,
potentially leaving Sebastian as an orphan— unacceptable. No
good
option remained but to wait.

He tried to listen—to hear what happened on
deck—but with the roar of the wind and clap of thunder and
lightning, it was impossible. One of the men, Bernardo, floated
past, struggling to stay above the waves. Nicolo tried to lower his
leg far enough for the man to grab on to it, but failed. Over and
over again, the man tried to swim to him, desperate, but at last a
great wave poured over them. Bernardo was gone. And Nicolo prayed
for his soul.

The storm raged, pummeling the ship
repeatedly. At times, he felt certain that the ship would capsize.
He had never felt so helpless. The ship was his responsibility, and
yet he sat huddled on a ledge doing nothing to help.

Nicolo’s arms ached. Numb with cold, it grew
more and more difficult to hold on to the little railing that kept
him trapped on the rear of the boat. Things improved a little as
the rain slowed and finally stopped. At last, a sliver of moon
peeked out from behind the clouds. The waves still rocked the ship
until the creaks and groans sounded as if the masts would snap.

In time, he heard men calling his name over
the sounds of waves crashing into and over the ship. The wind blew
his voice out into the ocean each time he replied. They couldn’t
hear him.

At last, Jaime’s head peeked over the rail
and his eyes widened. “Nicolo! We all thought—”

“Get me a rope before the next wave
hits.”

Seconds later, the wave washed over him, but
a rope followed quickly. Jaime leaned over the railing again. “I
didn’t quite make it before, but—”

He ignored the young man as he pulled
himself over the edge and onto the deck. “Sebastian—I saw him…”

“He’s in his cabin.” Jaime smiled at his
relief. “He did well. You should be proud of him.”

Nicolo pushed past Jaime and hurried to
Sebastian’s cabin. He found the boy ineffectually mopping up the
water. “Son?”

Sebastian dropped the mop and rushed to him.
“One minute you were there and then… I didn’t know…”

Arms around his son, Nicolo shivered as he
said, “Jaime told me you’d come to the cabin. You did well. I
thought you were gone.”

“Where’ve you been? Everyone was so careful
not to mention you that I thought you were dead.”

“People do that, don’t they,” Nicolo sighed.
“I saw Turk and Bernardo go under.”

“Turk went over before I got off deck. I
tried but Jaime wouldn’t let me—”

“He was right. Risking your life for another
is a noble thing, unless there is no hope for either of you if you
do. Then it is suicide.”

“But maybe—”

“Tell me the odds, Sebastian. What were your
odds of survival? How many men did we lose today?”

The boy’s eyes answered long before he
relented. “I don’t think I had a chance. I just didn’t want to
watch someone drown.”

“Do you think Turk wanted to watch you drown
too?”

Startled eyes met his. “I hadn’t thought of
that. Dying knowing someone else would die trying to save you.
That’d be terrible!”

Despite his best efforts to hide it, Nicolo
shivered again. Sebastian pushed him toward the door. “You should
go change—if you can find something dry. Blankets. Get warm. Where
were you?”

The lad’s attempt to try to make him leave
even while asking a question that would make him stay—so like the
boy. Nicolo opened the door and said over his shoulder, “I was
clinging to the head for the bulk of the day…”

“I think I should have been there,”
Sebastian mused.

Nicolo stopped and turned, confused.
“Why?”

“I was the one who was scared enough to
need…”

All the way to his cabin, even with the
rolling of the ship, Nicolo staggered, laughing hysterically and
looking like a drunken sailor. The others stared after him,
exchanging curious expressions. Jaime hurried to Sebastian’s cabin
for clarification.

Minutes later, he stumbled on deck and
announced the source of the captain’s mirth. Giorgio shook his head
as he retied the rigging. “That boy has always had a timely sense
of humor.”

The Legend: Part Five

Three long, wearying days passed as the crew
repaired the damage done to the ship. Every crew member from the
captain down to Sebastian swept, dumped, and mopped up hundreds of
gallons of water from the vessel. Torn sails, a cracked mast, and
the lost at sea took a toll on the morale of the crew. Seven
men—dead. They’d sailed all over the area, knowing it was hopeless,
but trying to find any sign of anyone.

Hector had been counted amongst the lost for
almost two days. Eventually, Sebastian had found him in the hold,
hiding in the listening post he’d learned to love—had been there
during the entire storm. A blow to the head made him confused and
muddleheaded. It had also made him more pleasant— tractable
even.

In the wake of their recent distress, Jaime
took the first opportunity to settle in for a story—anything to
buoy the men’s spirits. First, he went below deck and told it to
the men down there so they wouldn’t have to struggle to hear. Later
that evening, he settled on deck with a bottle of wine. “I thought
it was time to revisit Joseph...”

The deep mourning that the family entered
placed a pall over every aspect of Joseph’s life. He was short with
customers—impatient for payments. He called dozens of men into his
counting rooms but few stayed longer than a few minutes. Courtesy
was minimal. He called in debts so quickly that the word spread.
Joseph ben Saolomon was collecting large amounts of gold.

He sat in his rooms late each evening,
waiting for the men he’d summoned that day. They entered at the
appointed time, answered a few questions, and left once more with
stern warnings to pay their debt in thirty days or lose their
lands. Each time one left, he shook his head and poured over his
ledgers once more.