Again I was adrift, homeless, alone and hungry. And now I was hunted as well.
If they found me, boy though I was, I would die.
9
I awoke in the cold dark and lay still, confused. I had fallen asleep with my mind filled with thoughts of my boyhood. Now I was a castaway, lying on leaves in a Carolina forest with a stranger for companion and naught but enemies about.
I sat up slowly, trying to make no sound. Turley lay still, resting quietly. He, too, was no doubt accustomed to sleeping in the worst of circumstances.
My sword was at hand, and my other weapons. One by one I checked them, all the while listening. It was with difficulty that I shook off the memories of that long-ago night and that wild flight to escape the British soldiers. Yet I had escaped. A week later, starving once more, I had come upon the old man whom I had seen at the inn, the one who had smiled pleasantly and left, driving his cart with its donkey.
But no more of the past. Now was a time for thinking; now was a time to plan. In my hidden boat lay treasure, far more than I had ever expected to possess. By all the laws of salvage, it was mine, yet it was not truly mine until I could get it safely abroad and in a secure place.
I was beginning to understand that the finding of treasure was the smallest of problems. The greatest problem was to keep it. To do that I must keep its location secret until I could find a way to transfer it to England. All of which would take planning and foresight.
That I had possession of the prize both Don Manuel and the big man now his captor were seeking made it no easier. Once the San Juan de Dios was discovered, the vessel would be looted of its remaining treasure, and I had no doubt they would suspect me of having what was missing and come searching for me.
Moreover, they would not be long in finding the ship, so the time left to me was short, indeed. Nor did I wish to take Silliman Turley into my confidence. Many a man has been murdered for less than I possessed, and I had no idea how far Turley could be trusted.
Yet with all my thinking of the gold and the getting of it, my thoughts were shadowed by the memory of Guadalupe Romana. She was in their hands, and she had no knight errant to come riding on a white horse to save her. That she was a clever girl I was prepared to admit; that she could deal with the big man I doubted very much. He had a quality of ruthlessness about him that showed no leavening of mercy, consideration, or kindness. He knew what he wanted and he intended to have it, and he was the type of man to whom no particular woman is important. To such a man, women are something to be taken and then cast aside. Feminine wiles would mean nothing to him.
Softly, bitterly, I swore. Turley awakened and lifted his head. “You are thinking of the girl?” he suggested.
He sat up, brushing leaves from his hair. “It is ever the way. Seven times out of ten, when a man curses there is a woman involved. What is it now?”
“She is their prisoner. I must think of some way to free her.”
“And then what? You will only have her on your hands. No, my friend, let her bring trouble to them; they will rue it soon enough. Why, you could do them no more harm than to leave a woman amongst them!
“She will divide them, split them, create havoc among them! They will argue over her, because of her, and about her. Some will betray others because of her, some will die because of her. By all means, let her remain where she is. They will be destroyed by it.”
“She’s a fine girl.”
“Ah? Would she be as fine, or you so anxious to aid, if she were ugly? I think not. Worry not about the lass, Captain, and you’ll save yourself much and cost them more. And do not forget it. There is evil yon.”
I felt so myself. Yet why did that big man seem so familiar? What was there about him, that teased my memory? And the other man also, the one who had been lying on the ground, his back to me?
“She hoped I would help her. She expects it of me.”
“No doubt,” he replied grimly. “Do not they always?” He shook his head. “What do they see in her, anyway? She is but a woman.”
“A woman is sometimes enough. But there is more, or so they believe. They take her to Spain to win from her the knowledge of where some Inca gold is hidden.”
“Ah? Now she begins to make sense! Gold, is it? And Inca gold, too? How comes the lass by such knowledge?”
“She is but Spanish in part, and the other part of royal Inca blood. As you know, the Spanish demanded a great ransom for the Inca, whom they had seized. Then when they had the gold, they killed him anyway. What they did not know was that much gold was still on the way, and when they killed him, that gold was hidden. She, they believe, knows where.
“Also, it is believed that in the mountains there are strongholds where the old Incas still carry on, where the old gods are worshiped and the old ways continue. And there should be much gold there, too, for it is a metal born of the sun, which is their god.”
“The girl then is a prize. I can see … yes, of course. And you, Captain, have an interest in her also? Well, well, Captain, keep your eye upon the gold. It never fades in beauty. Women? They do fade, and they also grow crusty with age, and shapeless. No, the gold is the thing. Women are forever young when you have gold enough.”
He was silent. I thought of what I might do. To get Guadalupe Romana away from her captors would be no easy thing, but what to do after that was even more of a problem, for there would be no use in freeing her only to condemn her to a life in the forest. Somehow I had to contrive not only to free her but to see that she found her way home.
Worried as I was about my hidden boat and its treasure, there was nothing I could do about it for the moment, so I led the way down through the trees toward the pirate camp … if pirates they were.
It was quiet in the woods. Along the sunny side of the trees near a small creek the birds were singing, and I heard a loon call across the sound somewhere.
Turley put a hand on my shoulder from behind. “They’ll be a-watchin’, Cap’n. They surely will. You fall into that fat man’s hands and you’ll live long enough to regret it.”
We waited, listening. Hearing nothing, we moved along. Suddenly we stopped, for there lay the camp. Don Diego and Don Manuel sat in close conversation. Conchita was at the fire, preparing something … coffee, if my nose was true.
My eyes searched for the Basque, for I thought him a true man, but he was nowhere to be seen, nor Felipe. Several of the pirate crew stood about, all armed but negligent. They probably had no experience of Indians yet.
What were we to do? The fact that I could not see the fat man worried me, for he was the one I wished most to keep under observation.
Guadalupe was seated near a tree, close to the trunk of it, almost indiscernible from where we stood. She held a mug in her hand, and from time to time would sip from it. I doubted she was woolgathering; I believed her attention was probably upon escape … or something of the kind.
She was sitting half-faced toward me and most of the others were facing away. The impulse came upon me suddenly, for if we were to help her she must know it. Deliberately, I stepped out from the brush where we were concealed.
Her mug was lifted toward her mouth, but stopped an instant, then continued. Yet I was sure she had seen me, and I stepped back under cover. A moment later she stood up and stretched, yet in such a way that both hands extended before her, palms out and toward me. It might have been coincidence, but I was sure she was warning me back with her pushing gesture. She stretched again, then sat down again where she had been.
“Now what was all that about?” Turley asked.