The Disastrous Voyage of the Santa Margarita by Richard Woodman

Author:Richard Woodman [Richard Woodman]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House Publishers
Published: 2011-08-16T16:00:00+00:00

Nine

The Holy Ones

The assembly of the Holy Ones ended at sunset and although the most devoted of the Franciscan brothers continued to beat themselves as one of the lay brothers lit the glims that illuminated their quarters, it was with flagging ardour. In due course they subsided into silent prayer from which Hernando suddenly rose.

‘Brethren,’ he said, his voice ringing with a certainty that all thought derived from spiritual conviction, ‘we are lost entirely if we submit a moment longer to the unholy, impious and blasphemous authority of Don Juan de Guillestigui.’

‘Beware, Brother, that you do not court a charge of mutiny,’ warned the more cautious Agustin, dragging himself to his knees and then shakily squatting upon his haunches.

Hernando brushed the warning aside. ‘If we must die, ’tis better to do so proclaiming God than merely submitting to His overwhelming justice that cannot now be far from our captain-general’s proud head.’

‘Mutiny and treason will ensure a martyrdom, Fray Hernando, if that is what you seek,’ put in Marmolejo, also squatting. ‘Whether or not our captain-general enjoys the powers of knife and rope under the King’s mandate matters little. He is a man capable of seizing those powers if presented with what he conceives to be the necessity.’

‘Would he dare that?’

Marmolejo smiled. In the half-light, which revealed the friars’ bloodied torsos like a devotional painting, his gaunt features had the appearance of a saint long past martyrdom. ‘Do you doubt it? Why, he would as soon hang you to establish his authority over the others as wring a chicken’s neck for his table.’

‘I . . . I am ready,’ said Hernando, the timbre of piety in his voice as the sweat of it gleamed on his body.

‘If it is the will of God,’ said Agustin, seriously, ‘that you shall be martyred, Fray Hernando, I conceive it my duty to join you, but I beseech you consider the other souls aboard, the souls placed in our care by Fray Ocampo.’

‘Are they not beyond redemption?’ Hernando asked fiercely. ‘Have they not by their wild concupiscence placed themselves at the very gates of Hell?’

‘Perhaps,’ moderated Marmolejo, ‘but it is not for us to judge. Nor would an attempt by us to remove the captain-general . . . us, Brothers,’ he chuckled extending his hands as though awaiting the stigmata, ‘a handful of unarmed men of God.’

‘Fray Mateo is right, Brother,’ said Agustin. ‘They would cut us down with cold steel – and relish it, I dare say.’

They fell silent for a few moments, then Marmolejo said, ‘The captain-general and his fellow hidalgos are not men bred to the sea. Their authority will diminish in concert with the fate of this ship. The power of survival and, one may infer, the present salvation of our corporeal selves lies with the pilots, the mates and those very marineros who so recently mocked Almighty God!’

‘Don Iago Fernandez may be reckoned with those skilled in seamanship,’ Agustin added.

‘Indeed,’ said Marmolejo.

‘Joanes de Calcagorta says he is not to be trusted,’ offered Hernando.

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