Curse of Stigmata (The Judas Reflections) (14 page)

“Where’s my other coin?” I asked, upon our arrival upstairs. I watched her every move.

“Do you ever give up? Surely, you know I don’t have it and besides, why are these coins so important to you? Is it money, or are they worth a fortune in the right hands?”

“They are my redemption… it has nothing to do with money.”

“Oh, I see,” she replied, slipping off the dress. “You expect a few coins will save your wretched soul. What kind of magic is that?”

“There is no magic or sorcery in my world, unlike yours,” I replied.

Was it possible to revile someone as much as I did Rachel? Many women had crossed my path, and had successfully made my blood boil to the point of insanity. But why I allowed a girl so young to get the better of me was beyond my comprehension. Not only did I despise her, I didn’t trust her in the least. She would betray me in heartbeat if it were to her advantage. Like a piranha, Rachel could devour any man who crossed her path until he bored her enough to be spat into the nearest gutter.

“Stop undressing yourself in my presence. Do it privately and don’t take too long either. I don’t want you wandering alone up here.” I knew I sounded like a stern demanding father, yet it worked. She took off the dress and put it back exactly where she’d found it….

Forced to stay where we were until the weather improved, days passed slowly. Juan spent most of them drinking while Rachel found a female servant to tend to her every need. There was no sign of her stigmatic episodes as she languished in baths and relished in having her hair plaited by servant girls. But I had become paranoid, resulting in a daily search of the entire house to make sure nothing was missing.

“I wish I hadn’t done what I did. Maybe now I’d be long gone and not suffering constant immortality. Everyone I’ve known and loved is dead; everyone I meet dies before me.”

I had become accustomed to Juan’s repeatedly depressive speeches when under the influence of alcohol, most of them not remembered the next day when I chide him for irritating me. On this evening, he was particularly morose.

“I fear the future more than anything,” he confessed. “I see each new century becoming less appealing than the last. Haven’t you noticed how many more bastards and bitches there are?”

“I can’t say I have, Juan. Bad people have been around since we stood up straight. For me, each new century brings more wealth and advantage amongst the trials and tribulations.”

“I’m still suffering the effects of the Thirty Year War. Fighting over religion and territory. For what? Lawlessness and arguments continuing long after it was over. If I have to keep suffering wars in every new century, I think I’ll cut my own head off.”

Unlike Juan, who lingered in the past with sadness and feared the future, I tended to put painful memories aside and refused to worry too much about the future. While Juan drowned his sorrows in a bottle, I remained ever optimistic. By the third day of watching Rachel being indulged and Juan wandering around in a drunken stupor, I concluded I’d had enough. My prayers were heard. The weather changed, making it feasible for us to journey on. I couldn’t leave fast enough.

“Hurry,” I told them. “While the sun still shines.”

I left Comte and Racco a letter of gratitude and with caution in mind did a final check to be sure nothing was stolen and everything was in its place. Our carriage was luxurious. My saddle-sore ass was grateful to be sitting on soft cushioned seats as I enjoyed watching the Spanish countryside go by.

“What are you doing?” I asked Rachel who was rubbing her foot shamelessly against Juan’s lower leg.

“I have cramp, do you mind?” she tersely replied.

“Yes, I mind. Don’t take me for a fool.”

“Now, why would I do that?”

I held my breath and counted to five in the hope of controlling myself and not throwing her out in the middle of nowhere. Juan was busy sleeping off days of drinking and, as he rarely slept, I hated to wake him just to say she was up to her devious tricks again. Defiant, she continued to flirt, looking directly at me with a broad smile, enjoying every minute of her sick game.
Isabella
all over again.

It took a whole day and two rest stops before we reached Santander late in the evening. Juan was something of a drifter, his home rented out to a teacher of music and his ailing wife giving enough of an income to enable my companion to spend much of his time in Italy. I expected him to return there, once I’d remunerated his expenses.

“Where do I go now?” Rachel asked, looking forlorn, a small bag of belongings her only possessions. People passed and stared at a girl whose hair was worn scandalously down. Enjoying the attention, she slipped her shawl off one shoulder despite the cold and seductively posed, enticing passion in each and every man.

“A franc for your thoughts, Emmanuel,” she asked.

“I know what you’re doing. Searching for another fool or two who’ll give you food and shelter till something better comes along.”

“Oh no, I want to come away with you, to America,” she replied.

“I don’t think so.”

“I need your help to get to there. Please, if you have an ounce of humility, you’ll do what you can for me, regardless of what I’ve done. Everyone must be given a second chance.”

“Do you ever think to leave me alone?”

Juan had gone to find rooms for the night while Rachel continued to plead and beg. Taking shelter from the windy dock in a noisy inn full of sailors and captains searching for crew, I was parched. The sight of a large pitcher of strong Spanish ale placed before me was very welcome. Unlike Rachel, who’d followed me in like an unwanted puppy. Reactions upon the sight of her were to be expected; drunken men whistled and called out lewd suggestions.

“Now you have all the attention you need, mademoiselle,” I said.

“Do you
really
think I would stoop so low as to desire men of this nature? You know very little of me, and nothing of my preferences.”

It was a strange irony to be back in Santander where I’d endured an acrimonious goodbye with Isabella. Now burdened with Rachel who for all her bleating and blustering, still hung on my coat strings. I dreaded yet another messy confrontation with Juan at her beck and call. He’d more than likely devote his time working hard to find her passage out of Spain while she sat with her feet up.

I ordered two portions of food, chicken with garlic and potatoes. Rachel acted near-starved and ate like the peasant girl she was. I picked at mine, wondering what on earth to do next. I could stay for a while or travel hot on Rachel’s heels in the hope my psychic sense returned, leading me to the whereabouts of the coin. But I was surely in the right place for an adventure: a sea dock, surrounded by Captains always on the lookout for wealthy paying passengers. The more I paid, the less I had to do on board. In my case, paying enough to be treated as a gentleman. Rachel started a conversation with a man close by, laughing and joking as if he was a close acquaintance. Weakened by her presence, he played with her hair as she flirted seductively.

“Rachel, what are you doing?” I asked.

“You must talk with him, it’s fascinating,” she cooed. “He’s traveled to so many far off places, with names I’ve never heard before, exotic lands with hot sun and sand that’s white.”

His breeches were of the highest quality, the brown and silver cloak he wore expertly trimmed with the finest and very expensive silver lace. Gold jewelry on his fingers and around his neck spoke only of one thing.
Pirate.
Rachel eyed him with sheer admiration. Was she really unaware of what he actually was?

“Are you looking to journey?” he asked me.

“Who are you?” I replied cautiously.

“I am Captain Dirk Chivers. I hail from the Netherlands, but I speak good English and even some Spanish.”

“My name is Emmanuel Ortiz, citizen of the world.”

“Well then, I’m due to leave in a day or two for the Indian Ocean. My boat is moored a little way out. Certainly, you know how it is… I need to keep low. If you’re interested, I’ll be sailing to the Indian Ocean. I’ll take you on a fine adventure for a good price and… the little lady is debatable. It’s not fitting for women to board a pirate ship.”

I laughed at his absurd suggestion. To go on a wing and a prayer aboard a rusty old pirate ship to the far corners of the world, only to find myself in danger, would be ludicrous.

“I can come with you,” Rachel said, much to my horror. “It sounds exciting. Maybe I can cook for you, Captain? I don’t have much money to pay for my passage. Please?”

“Normally I can’t abide whining women on my boat, but for you, maybe… I’ll make an exception. Of course, I can’t guarantee the men will keep their hands to themselves.” He laughed, sending a chill down my spine.

I continued to listen in disbelief. Rachel had begged me to take her to America for a new life. The next moment, she’d been enticed into crossing a vast unknown Ocean with a dangerous pirate. The sight of Juan saved me, searching inn after inn until he found me. Surprisingly, he was still sober.

“I might have found a way to dispose of Rachel. I can sell her to pirates,” I whispered. Juan took a hard look at the Captain, and seemed to recognize him. He took me to one side. “That’s Captain Dirk Chivers, the Dutch pirate. He’s a legend in these parts and beyond. Rumor has it he ordered a sailor’s lips to be sewn together to stop his constant complaining. He’s amassed a fortune from stealing boats and ransoms, a force to be reckoned with. Not a man to anger,” Juan explained.

“I’m only here for a short while, you know how it is. A man in my position has to keep moving. If you’re interested, I’ll need to negotiate a price for you and the girl. Is he coming as well?” the Captain called out, pointing to Juan.

“No, I’m not coming,” Juan replied, sharply.

I could see the distaste in Juan’s face for Chivers. Pirates were mostly feared by the masses on land as well as at sea. Unlike me, Juan had little or no contact with them to understand how they really operated. This, in turn, created fear.

Vagabonds they may have been, but there was an unwritten pirate code of conduct I couldn’t help admiring. Unlike other seamen, who when full of ale or rum would fight in the inns, pirates would do their best to battle only at sea, much to the relief of innkeepers. They cheated at cards making no secret of the fact, so I never played a game with them. Also, I learned many years before never to board a pirate ship without greeting the captain most cordially. My social mishap resulted in being tossed overboard for my rudeness.

“I have time to spare,” I replied. “A journey to such a far off land would be an adventure. I hear there are many spices to be discovered, still unheard of in our world. It could be a good business opportunity.”

I planned all along to journey to America, but the more I considered it, an offer to discover new islands was too enticing to ignore. After enduring cold icy conditions, the thought of an unknown tropical sun on my back sealed my decision. There was plenty of time, with or without Juan. The missing coin could wait.

“Then cross my palm with silver and gold, be generous and you can have a place,” Chivers said, placing his hand firmly on the table.

“Juan, take Rachel to the dock and find her passage to Holland where she can pick up a ship to America. She’s not coming with me,” I ordered, moving closer to Chivers to negotiate. Rachel was none too happy with my command.

“I don’t want to go there, I want to come on the pirate ship with you!”

“Go to America. It’s large enough for me never to have to see you again.”

Juan did as I asked, dragging her out of the inn as she screamed and shouted. Her expletives so bad they shocked even the roughest of sailors. Thankfully, she was gone, out of my sight, hopefully forever.

“A wild filly needs to be tamed; you didn’t do your job there. If she was in my company I would have broken her within hours.”

Captain Chivers’ idea of breaking Rachel would have been to tie her up, give her ten lashes and starve her until she promised to be good. To make sure she really had the message, he would share her amongst the crew until she either begged for mercy or threw herself overboard in a suicide bid.

Preferring not to get into a disagreement, I told him I accepted my failings, even though I remained angry. Unlike Chivers, I didn’t have it in me to cause her real harm, only wanting her out of the way. We shared a bottle of fine rum while I waited anxiously for Juan. It would be hours before he returned alone, having endured hard negotiations for her passage, which I had paid for.

“Her boat leaves for Holland tomorrow morning and she was allowed to board for the night. I thought it best she was off dry land, unable to follow you,” he said, upon his return. I breathed a big sigh of relief. No more fake stigmata, lying stealing and manipulating.

“I can now spend the next few days in relative calm, thanks to you, my good friend. I appreciate your help in every way. I ask you, most humbly, to join me on this wonderful journey with all your expenses paid. What say you?”

“I have little to lose and much to gain for going. Perhaps it would be a good decision so, Captain Chivers, I request to come aboard,” Juan replied with a smile.

I would have paid double for Juan whom much to my delight had a change of heart. Despite my need for self-preservation, I was drawn to loyalty and he was someone I could depend on.

“We’ll have a wonderful adventure. I promise you it won’t be dull,” I said.

Free of Rachel, I felt lighter than I had in weeks. The next few days went quickly, filled with purchasing what was needed for such a long journey. I bought an expensive chest, a new saber and a small musket. Juan acquired new clothes, footwear and stocked up on wine. I wrote a letter to Comte and Racco thanking them for the horses and safe passage to Santander but I refrained from telling them where I was going, unsure if the letter would fall in the wrong hands and pass to the authorities. The morning came to leave and, true to his word, Chivers sent a small boat to take us to The Sloop, a frigate moored safely out of sight. As the shoreline diminished, so did the anxiety. It was time for a new adventure.