Sea Robber by Tim Severin Page A

Maria has been on your mind these past months, and I wondered if you’ve considered trying to contact her?’ Crossing to the table, he placed a finger on the map, far out in the Pacific. ‘This little cluster of islands here,’ he said, ‘they are the Ladrones. The “islands of thieves” as Magellan, their discoverer, called them. The inhabitants stole everything they could lay their hands on.’ He smiled thinly. ‘This is where the Alcalde, Don Fernando, now governs by the authority granted to him by the Viceroy of New Spain. Every year the Viceroy sends him an official despatch containing his orders for the coming year.’ The finger slid eastwards across to the coast of Mexico. ‘The despatch is carried by a galleon that sails from here, from Acapulco. If you’d care to write a letter to your Maria, I will arrange for it to be taken under my seal to Acapulco and given to the captain of that vessel to deliver to her.’
    The Governor raised his eyes from the map and studied Hector for a brief moment.
    ‘Of course, it’s up to you to decide whether you want to write to her.’
    The past four months of anxiety had taken their toll on Hector. He felt dispirited and subdued.
    ‘Don Alonso, you are kind to make such an offer. But I think it better if Maria no longer even thinks of me. A letter from me now would only raise false hopes.’
    The look the Governor gave him was full of compassion. ‘My friend, Maria may be suffering the same feelings of uncertainty and sorrow that I endured, not knowing my brother’s fate. Sometimes it’s better to know a difficult truth than to be left in doubt.’
    Later that evening in his room Hector began – and then tore up – half a dozen letters to Maria. He had still not composed a fair copy by the time Luis came early next morning to take him to a meeting with the Governor in his office.
    ‘You’re quite a catch, it seems,’ said Don Alonso with a mirthless grimace. The map still lay spread on the side table. ‘The Audiencia wants you delivered to the capital, to Lima itself, for interrogation. Afterwards you will be tried for piracy.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Have you written that letter for Maria?’
    Hector shook his head.
    The Governor gave up. ‘Then all I can do is to wish sincerely that you and Jezreel receive a fair trial. Luis will escort you to the dock, where your ship is waiting. When you go aboard, your parole to me is at an end. From then on, you are the responsibility of her captain. He is keen to set off at once.’
    As Hector left the room, he glanced back. Don Alonso was rolling up the map and there was a sombre expression on his face. He had the look of a man who had completed a very distasteful task.

     
    ‘P RAISE BE we’re let out of our hutch from time to time,’ said Jezreel, standing up to his full six and a half feet and stretching. ‘Or I’d have a permanent stoop by now.’
    The aviso was a small, lightly built sloop. Since leaving Valdivia, the two friends had been permitted to exercise on her quarterdeck for two hours every afternoon. For the remainder of each day they were confined to a small, windowless cabin, which Hector surmised was normally used as a storeroom. It smelled of old sacks and damp, and the ceiling was so low that the big man was obliged to crouch double or go on all fours whenever he moved about.
    ‘How far do you think we’ve come?’ asked Jezreel. He swung his arms from side to side to loosen his shoulder muscles. His wounds had long since healed, and he looked gaunt, but fit.
    ‘Impossible to say,’ answered Hector. He stared out at the mainland coast, some ten miles away to starboard. He could see nothing that might give him a clue as to how the sloop had progressed along her route. The view had altered little in the past three weeks of sailing. There was the same sequence of coastal ranges and the same blue-grey haze where the land rose steeply to the mountain chain that ran parallel to the coast. The