Return to Paradise (Torres Family Saga) (55 page)

      
”Tis a disgrace, blaspheming against the Holy Faith and allowing a priest of God to be so humiliated by a heathen savage,” Vasques muttered as Las Casas approached the stable.

      
“I suppose I must offer him the hospitality I promised,” Elzoro said with a shrug, although he liked the meddlesome priest as little as he did the hateful
cacique
. With an oily smile he followed Las Casas into the large stable where Elzoro's splendid barb was being readied. The Dominican was himself saddling a small mule when the planter addressed him.

      
“I regret your failure with these savages, but Torres does coddle their heathenish ways overmuch. Do you still desire a place to stay on your return to Santo Domingo, Fray Bartolome?”

      
“I would be most grateful, Don Esteban, most grateful, indeed,” the priest replied serenely.

* * * *

La Navidad Cove

      
Rani heard Piero opening the lock to her cabin and quickly stepped back from the window. Flinging herself onto the bed in an indolent pose, she glanced at the hateful boy with contemptuous dismissal and popped a handful of raisins into her mouth. “Spying on me again, Piero, or do you wish to try on my gown once more?”

      
The black-haired youth reddened and his full lower lip stuck out in a vicious pout. “Soon you will be feeding the sharks and I shall have all that you now call yours.”

      
“Captain Brienne has reason to keep me alive,” she said with an airy confidence she was far from feeling.

      
“My captain is not interested in your puny female body,
caraque
” the pretty boy replied haughtily.

      
“Oh, I know he uses you that way,” she replied, then could not resist baiting the captain's vain and cruel
puto
. “But I have seen Luc observing me with more than passing interest. If I were to seduce him, you could not prevent it. I suspect he does lay with women as well as boys.”

      
“He prefers me,” Piero replied, his voice breaking as fury almost overcame him. Although a small slender youth of fifteen, he possessed amazing strength as well as cunning honed on the Genoa waterfront where Brienne had purchased him. “You are to get dressed in the clothes I brought you last night.”

      
“They are your castoffs. I will not wear them.”

      
His slim nostrils flared and his large brown eyes narrowed evilly. “You will wear them—if ever you hope to set foot on dry land again.”

      
“I thought you said I was to feed the sharks, Piero. Which is it?”

      
“Just dress. You are going ashore. I hope my captain slits your scrawny throat and leaves you to rot in the jungle,
caraque
!” With that, he turned and stomped from the cabin, carefully locking the door behind him.

      
Rani slowly let out the tense breath she had been holding, then got up and again studied the menacing jungle through the cabin window. If only she could swim like Benjamin, she could squeeze through the small opening and escape to shore. Of course Piero did mention sharks...

      
“Tis no use grieving. I cannot swim so I must await the captain's pleasure when he takes me ashore.” Reluctantly Rani donned the cotton tunic and fitted hose, which conformed to her slim curves well enough. But Piero's boots were far too big. Sighing, she stuffed the toes with linen handkerchiefs, all the while thinking about her strange odyssey across the stormy Atlantic.

      
Brienne had been good as his word about keeping her safe from his crew...and his own touch. Her face still heated when she recalled her unwitting discovery of the cabin boy Piero in a torrid embrace with the hard-looking captain. While she had been concealed by the bed hangings that first evening, Piero had let himself in the captain's cabin and waited to surprise his master. Unwittingly, he had amazed Rani as well. That very night Brienne had her moved to this smaller cabin.

      
No matter his sexual predilections, Luc Brienne was a clever and dangerous adversary and he was in league with someone in Marseilles who wanted to kill Benjamin's brother as well as drive the whole Torres family from Española. Now these brigands could use her as a pawn to further their scheme. Rani knew if she were responsible for his brother's death, Benjamin would never forgive her. She had to find a way to escape! Perhaps Piero's jealousy would prove useful after all.

* * * *

      
Bartolome de Las Casas knelt in the small chapel inside Elzoro's mansion. Like the rest of the planter's home, it was opulent, the altar hangings of finest silk, the tall candlesticks of wrought gold.
Such wealth, and all of it purchased at the price of untold human misery
. He had surreptitiously observed the slave pens as they rode across the compound yesterday evening. Black Africans by the hundreds huddled together, chained in the filthy confines of rude corrals unfit for Elzoro's fine horses. The man was evil personified and must be brought to justice.

      
Of course, Elzoro had set guards to watch him, knowing he was Rigo's foster brother. During a stiffly formal dinner that evening he had planned a way to outwit his host and gain access to the library. He prayed over the abuse of his holy office that the scheme entailed, but finally, he decided it was the only way. He would have to go to confession and do a fearful penance. He would deserve the worst Fray Antonio could give him, but if he could locate the information Aaron sought it would be worth it. Quickly he finished his prayers and arose on stiff knees. He moved swiftly to check the hallway. His guard stood stolidly at the door of the chapel.

      
He had lit candles on the altar and made preparations to say a mass. Now he must convince the brutal, licentious-looking mercenary at the chapel door to take part. “Good morning, my son,” he said, making the sign of the cross in front of the guard.

      
With bleary but suspicious looking eyes, the guard nodded. “Tis still the middle of the night, scarce false dawn.”

      
“Please forgive me but I often arise before dawn to say mass, especially for those in greatest need of it.”
And who more than you
? “Will you not come in to witness the Blessed Miracle?”

      
The guard shuffled in self-consciously, genuflected with obvious lack of practice and knelt. Quickly the Dominican went through an abbreviated order of service, then drank the last of the consecrated wine. With his face to the altar, carefully concealing his actions, he wiped the sacred vessel clean and refilled it with unconsecrated wine that he had treated with a Taino herb that rapidly induced sound sleep. Arising, he faced the guard.

      
“My son, there is more of the Holy Blood than I can consume. Suddenly my advanced years and the long journey have made me feel faint. Do you know the hallowed place in the earth where visiting priests pour the excess wine?”
Let him not be overly religious, please, Lord.

      
The guard's small, beady eyes flickered as they fastened on the chalice. He licked his lips. “Tis right outside the chapel.”

      
“I feel too faint. Please do me the kindness.” He raised his hands and blessed the fellow, then handed him the large chalice. “I will wait here until you return. I must pray for strength.”
And forgiveness.

      
The guard did not return. When Las Casas searched, he found him snoring beneath a tree just outside the chapel. Gently removing the chalice from his meaty fist, the priest cleansed it and replaced it on the altar, then set out to perform his assignment.

      
As he was escorted to bed last evening, the Dominican had ascertained the location of the library. But was the great oak door locked? He slipped down the corridor. No one stirred and his muffled footfalls echoed eerily in the silence as he walked to the end of the hall. With trembling hands he lifted the latch, all the while murmuring a fervent prayer. The door swung open on oiled hinges, admitting him to the big room filled with books and papers. Las Casas set to work quickly.

* * * *

      
The horse was lathered and the rider torn by brush, bitten by insects and totally exhausted as he was shown into the Torres house. He wore the livery of the Colon family and carried an urgent message for Don Aaron and Dona Magdalena. The man was gulping from a large goblet of watered wine when they responded to the summons. Wiping the back of his mouth with his hand, he arose from the chair and made a hasty bow. “Thank the Blessed Virgin I have found you. My lady said I was to make great haste with this.” He extracted a heavy missive from his doublet and handed it to Aaron.

      
As Magdalena watched, Aaron broke the
virreina's
seal and began to read, then cursed softly. Pressing his arm, she asked, “What is wrong?”

      
“The Second Admiral has sent for Maria, summoning her back to Spain. I mislike this. Diego has always felt most strongly that she should remain in the viceregal palace and keep his foes in Santo Domingo at bay while he plied the king in Spain.”

      
“Do you think this summons was not from Diego?” Magdalena asked.

      
“Tis about just such a possibility that she begs our council.”

      
“We must leave at once, Aaron. The House of Colon has long been our ally. We cannot fail them now.”

      
Aaron crushed the letter in his fist. “This is ill timing indeed. Benjamin is beset by demons, thinking of his Gypsy girl in the hands of the corsair. Elzoro has repeatedly tried to kill Rigo. The whole Vega could erupt in violence at any moment.”

      
“Benjamin and Rigo are men grown, Aaron, as you have often reminded me. You must one day give over all we have worked for to them.” Her voice was gentle as her touch on his cheek.

      
Aaron sighed, then smiled at her. “Of course, you are right. If only they were not such headstrong fools.”

      
“I cannot imagine where that trait came from in either of them,” she replied, her green eyes rounded innocently.

      
“Saucy wench.”

      
“Then we are for Santo Domingo?”

      
“At once,” Aaron replied.

      
Magdalena turned to go upstairs and begin packing, then paused long enough to ask, “Will you send word to Rigo? He has not returned from Guacanagari's village and Miriam is sorely worried. He should be here with her and his son, Aaron.”

      
Muttering imprecations about the bull-headed blindness of youth, Aaron hastily scrawled a message to Rigo and sent it off with a Taino runner. “Let us also pray Fray Bartolome learns something from his sojourn with Esteban Elzoro.”

* * * *

      
“I like it not. They take not enough escort with them and tis a long journey to Santo Domingo,” Benjamin said to Miriam. They had just bid farewell to his parents with the first faint light of dawn.

      
Miriam, having observed the heavily armed men who accompanied her father-in-law and mother-in-law, replied, “They will be safe enough. Tis your Rani for whom I fear.”
And Rigo. Why does he not return from his uncle's village
?

      
As if reading her thoughts, Benjamin said, “We need Rigo here, Miriam. Perhaps you should send word to him.”

      
“If his own father's request cannot bring him back, mine will count for naught.”

      
“He is a hard man. Proud and afraid to show weakness.”

      
“Is love a weakness, Benjamin?”

      
He smiled sadly. “To Rigo, yes. I fear it is so, for he sorely fears to have it rejected.”

      
“As if I ever could reject him—or did. He has no cause for this latest sulk but for his guilt over your return.”

      
Recalling the tender reconciliation between him and his brother's wife the other evening, a sudden premonition flashed into Benjamin's mind. “Miriam, do you think—”

      
Before he could voice the thought, a commotion at the gates of the compound caused him to stop. Since he had returned and his parents departed for Santo Domingo, the guards all around the settlement had been doubled. Everyone was tense, as if waiting for a fierce
huracán
to strike. A Taino runner, gasping for breath after his long overland trek, came stumbling toward the house and fell to his knees before Benjamin.

      
“From the Holy Man, Don Benjamin,” the youth said as he thrust a leather pouch into Benjamin's hands.

      
Miriam instructed several servants to care for the exhausted runner, then followed Benjamin into the house. Together they spread the eagerly awaited papers and a small book onto a table in Aaron's library.

      
“Look, an account ledger—the kind I have seen the bankers in Venice use,” Miriam said excitedly.

      
Benjamin unrolled various letters and quickly scanned them. “This correspondence between the corsair Brienne and Reynard clearly implicates the planter as the one behind the thefts on our
hato
! His men stole my father's horses and cattle, even burned fields and attacked the settlers. But why?”

      
“Perhaps to drive our family from Espanola. If we were to return to France, would not Esteban Elzoro be able to claim all the Vega?” Miriam put down the ledger she held.

      
“Brienne certainly is a pirate. Here he brags of taking two gold shipments from father's caravels. He thanks his comrade Reynard for the information about their sailing dates,” Benjamin said, his voice tight with fury. He pounded the tabletop, “I will go to Elzoro's plantation and roast him over a slow fire until he tells me what Brienne has done with Rani!”