The Seven Serpents Trilogy Read Free

After supper, which was a matter of grabbing what I could, I was free to find a quiet place to settle down for the night.
    The caravel was of average dimensions—twenty-seven strides from stern to bow and seven long strides in width. Much like Columbus’s
Santa María
in appear ance and, like her, carrying three masts, but with lookouts on two of them. The galley was located amidships and ran from port to starboard. She was painted black, with gold carvings on her bow and around the stern window.
    To save space for cargo, the
Santa Margarita
was not outfitted with bunks nor hammocks. Except for Don Luis and Captain Roa, each man fended for himself, finding a soft plank somewhere on deck or below, if he was lucky.
    This, my first official day at sea, left me barely able to walk. As I located a place to lie down between two can noneers and was settling myself to rest, Don Luis sent for me. He and Captain Roa were just beginning their supper as I entered the cabin.
    â€œ
¿Qué pasa?
What goes?” Don Luis said to me but did not wait for an answer. “I asked Captain Roa to lead you a merry pace. You have survived, I see.”
    â€œBarely enough,” I said.
    â€œNow you know what it is to work aboard a caravel. Something you have not known heretofore. Tomorrow I will give you tasks more to your liking.” And he went on to outline my new duties.
    At dawn, in accordance with his wishes, I went to the sterncastle and there, from this high vantage point, in a loud voice so that all could hear, I sang out:
    Blessed be the light of day
    and the Holy Cross, we say;
    and the Lord of Veritie
    and the Holy Trinity.
    Blessed be the immortal soul
    and the Lord who keeps it whole,
    Blessed be the light of day
    and He who sends the night away.
    The rest of the day was my own, to read, to think, to dream. Until sundown, when I again mounted to the sterncastle and this time sang the beautiful Salve Regina, in the best voice I could summon. Then I took up my gittern and went below, where Don Luis and Cap tain Roa were dining at a table set with white linen and silver.
    Don Luis glanced at the gittern. “You anticipate my wishes.” On the contrary, I had not anticipated his wishes. The gittern was tucked beneath my arm because I could find no other place to put it. Like the rest of my companions, I had a parcel of deck to bed upon, where anything lying around would be stepped upon.
    â€œPlay!” Don Luis commanded me. “Nothing from the seminary. Something pleasant. Peñalosa?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œA song?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    Don Luis turned to the captain. “Julián has much tal ent. He has taken many lessons.”
    While he went on to describe my musical gifts, I settled myself in a corner of the cabin, finding bare room to pluck the gittern, and began to play. I played throughout the long meal, which consisted of excellent fare—a flagon of red wine, such things as spitted fowl and venison.
    The meal at an end, I was rewarded by a generous helping, which I ate upon the deck, alone in the moonlight, gazing at the dark outlines of the island.
    Trouble, which had begun between the two men in Seville, broke out again while we were making ready to leave Grand Canary. Captain Roa argued that we should follow the same course Columbus had taken on his last voyage, some fourteen years before. On the contrary, Don Luis thought we should follow a more north erly course, based upon a recent chart—one made by Miguel Peña within the last few months—which he had studied at length.
    Since Don Luis owned the
Santa Margarita
and had provisioned her and hired the crew and Captain Roa himself, it gave him the right, he was convinced, to run the ship. Small matter that he had never been to sea nor knew more than he had read in books and portolans.
    We were scarcely out of the harbor, on the course he had selected, than we ran into a calm that lasted three days