Port of Malaca, on board the Maris Stella,
30th day of Septimus 1668.
Dear Melisandre,
I have travelled much since my last letter. Before
I begin telling you of it, I must beg you never to let this letter, or
any of the ones to follow it, fall in somebody else's hands. Please
destroy them rather than let them be read by indiscreet eyes.
In my last letter, I told you that I had received word
from a friend of mine that he requested my help. This friend is both
an outlaw, and the man I love. I entreat you, please do not think
ill of me, Melisandre, that I have given my heart to a pirate; for I love
Captain Allende. He is called a pirate, but he is nothing like Reis
and his ilk. I know him as a gallant, kind, and brave man; he has
saved my life before, and I have received some indications that he returns
my sentiments for him. Well, I have received poetry, to be specific.
I blush to even mention it. Do not laugh at me, sister!
I should begin by explaining myself better than in
my last, hastily scrawled message. Three weeks ago, I was awakened
in the middle of the night by someone knocking at my window – up
on the second floor. I got up and discovered it was Rodrigo, a sailor
on Captain Allende's vessel The Hanged Man. I have met Rodrigo
a few times in the past, in fact he is the one who first introduced Lucas
and I to the Captain. I let him in, and he told me that Captain Allende
was requesting my help, if I could sail to meet him. Rodrigo did
not know what kind of help was needed.
I hurriedly threw some belongings in my sea chest,
penned that wretched incoherent letter for you, gave some orders to the
housekeeper and the estancia's manager as soon as the household was up,
and with Rodrigo rode on to the port. The Maris Stella is
a nimble vessel with a good crew; despite the lack of warning, we were
able to sail out with the next tide, at the end of the day. We set
sail in the growing darkness, and Rodrigo informed me that Captain Allende
had requested that we first collect two more passengers in San Cristobal
before making our way to our rendez-vous with the Hanged Man.
The passengers we picked up on a small island facing
the city; I recognized, in court finery, two women also from Captain Allende's
crew: his first mate Alesio, and Dolorès, better known as Didi,
who often teams up with Rodrigo and his brother Vincente. I was quite
surprised to see them dressed so; Didi looked very sad, and I learned that
they had just met Lucas, Juan, Vlad and you at a royal ball! Poor
Didi has a crush on Lucas, hence her sadness at leaving.
The voyage west took several days, during the
last few of which I abandoned the task of navigation to Alesio since she
alone knew how to reach the rendez-vous point. At last, we sighted
the sails and signal of the Hanged Man and
made our approach. Captain Allende invited me on board, and this
is when I suddenly realized it was the first time I had ever gone adventuring
on my own. Always before, I had been with my cousins; now I admired
all the more your daring in running to El Moro all alone, for I discovered
that it is very unsettling to have no one else to turn to. I suppose
we Castillans rely too much on family, sometimes.
These thoughts were running through my mind as I climbed
up the side ladder; I had no one to consult for the proper way of handling
this. Does one salute the quarterdeck on a pirate ship? The
Maris
Stella is not even a proper Navy vessel, only a letter of marque, so
it might seem pretentious of me, and technically, no honours were due a
pirate. Yet I know many of these sailors, I like them, and I did
not want to offend by ignoring courtesy. As I reached the top of
the ladder, I settled for a middling solution: I took off my hat and gave
a sweeping bow rather than a salute. (Yes, I bowed like a man – I
tell you again, do not mock me, you infernal creature!) Appreciative
laughter rippled among the on-looking sailors and I heard friendly greetings
– never would sailors be allowed to lounge like that or act so familiarly
in the Navy, but who am I to complain, with the Maris Stella?
It seemed I had satisfied proprieties. A sailor called out: "Doña
Constanza, when are you going to forget this Navy of yours and join the
Brotherhood?" I grinned and retorted: "When the Brotherhood makes
me a better offer, of course." They laughed again, delighted with
the banter. Captain Allende smiled (my midriff turned to water) and
welcomed me aboard.
After the required courtesies, he explained that a
cargo of Syrneth artefacts was currently making its way to Prince Vincenzo
Caligari, and must be intercepted before this prince could make use of
it. My cousins and I have crossed paths before with Prince Caligari;
he is a dangerous man, whose obsession is to find Syrneth artefacts and
use them to gather power. He has no morals and no humanity, and I
certainly agreed that any plan set in motion by him is worth interfering
with. However, I was less sanguine when I heard that this cargo was
carried by a Crimson Rogers vessel crewed by Reis's men. I was just
recovering from a near-fatal wound received when fighting his men...
The vessel carrying the objects is a fleut called the
Dauphin.
Captain Allende has asked me to pursue it and recover its cargo, while
he takes his own ship after Reis's
Crimson Roger. My heart
nearly stopped in my chest when he said that. I did not like to think
of him going against the insane, murdering blackguard, but what could I
say? "No, no, captain, let me do that?" I think not.
My skills and my vessel are no match for Captain Allende's, let alone for
Reis; although I would indeed prefer this, it was a ludicrous idea.
Captain Allende lent me three valuable crewmembers
to help with this task: my old acquaintances Rodrigo and Vincente, and
the navigator Velik Galecatcher, who is known for his amazing weather sense.
And so our two ships parted company, agreeing to meet again in two weeks.
I knew that the Dauphin was bound for Caligari
Island, and would likely need to reprovision. The most likely ports
were San Felipe, Puerto del Sur, and Malaca, with the latter two being
better positioned and more discreet. But although Puerto del Sur
is better supplied and laid out, it is also full of Navy ships and tariff
inspectors. Malaca, on the other hand, is ripe with smuggling. It
seemed to me the latter was the better gamble, and so set sail for it.
Fortune smiled upon me: as we entered the port today,
I spotted a fleut that matched the Dauphin's description.
I took the
Maris Stella to a far berth and went ashore with Vincente
and Rodrigo. We carefully checked the inns and ale-houses of the
port, hoping to hear word of this vessel. I spent most of the afternoon
cautiously listening for scuttlebutt rumours; by the end of this effort,
I was feeling rather discouraged by my lack of success. Although
I admit Malaca's seafood was without equal...
However, I need not have been so cautious or worried.
At the very last inn, I suddenly saw two familiar silhouettes walk through
the door – fairly blotting out the sun: two sailors of Reis's crew I had
last seen on Treasure Reef where my cousins and I searched for the Bonita's
treasure (and I'm afraid I must save that tale for another day.)
One is a large man, visibly of Crescent stock; the other is even larger,
and is completely black, black as night. Both seem to be mute, although
I know that both understand the Crescent language.
I expected that they would try to seize me immediately
and drag me to their pirate ship, but the Crescent man (he is called Volta)
looked at his dark companion (whom I have heard called Jemy) for some sort
of sign. Jemy merely shrugged, and the two simply ignored me!
I returned to the Maris Stella, knowing no more
than I had before save that the fleut must indeed be the Dauphin.
Tonight, I intend to attempt to sneak on board the Dauphin with
Rodrigo's help (he is a very stealthy fellow). I am writing this
letter and dropping it in the post that leaves in a few minutes, so that
you will know what became of me if I do not return.
Wish me luck. I remain as ever,
Your affectionate friend,
Constanza Aldana y Orduño
