What to do with it?
He tried to say the name again I-asper? The Iasper was theirs and fairly won! A ruse that even the wily Oddysseus would have been proud of. There was that other rogue. The one his nursemaid had told him about, oh he forgotten the man’s name now. He had been one of the Company of Finn, but a coward and a trickster
It was annoying him now, trying to remember that rouges name, Hugh knew he would have to ask the Midwife, when he returned to Buenos Aires. No one else would know. His father had Irishmen, or rather the Sons of Irish men, among his retainers and sworn me. They were now the holders of great estates. Men of property, and distinction, whose grandfathers had been spearmen, hangers on, and the emptiers of piss pots
Such was the High King of Heaven’s great design for the world. It was to the more recent past that he was drawn His mind kept turning over the events of the night before, like a spinning wheel, or a water mill no matter how far the
They had drawn the ships fighting men out. His Galician had spent the day declaiming in vernacular that he was not a housemaid whose station it was to light fires. As the night had concealed his force, they had struck the landing party as it waded ashore. There had been no quarter offered. Their foes had reddened the rushes and sand.
Their enemies having no further use for their cloaks and hats were equally pleased to share their longboat. Besides there acquaintance with the Gentlemen from overseas had been if not long than an enduring and defining one.
The water had been cold. It had been a quick shock. His stomach was still on the rack, and his heart drummed liked an Easter procession, but he must keep his wits, and his plan
The plan that now rested on a boy with not more than 10 years.
Juan had looked at the lad. His words became heavy with memory sighing the Galician announced
``I was not much older’’
The Son of the Great O Neill, A knight of the realm, a man whose ancestors had knelt in front of St Patrick and his band of sworn men, placed their fates in the charge of a lad, who probably had never owned a new shirt.
Juan had gently but demanded none the less. That the boy to recite the Salve Regina a dozen times. O prayer for each of his fingers than again for each hand, a dozen. One prayer for each of the Apostles. Juan had made the boy repeat the instructions back to him three times. As the Cockrell had crowed for Peter
Once his duty to the Lord done than the lad was to light the lantern on the roof of the Chapel. He was not to stop for anything or talk to anyone. He was to keep to his task.
It was enough time to carry the unlikely Argonauts to the ship, and past her guns.
It was a risk. He must have been drinking whiskey rather than wine with his water. No matter! They had trusted in God, and kept their power dry enough by the time, they would be aboard. If not, than someone else would give the speech on his daughter’s wedding day
The Prince and the Pauper were both united in prayer, one by Land and one by sea
How often, had his men, handled a boat before the night? Juan had been born somewhere close to the sea. Though he rarely spoke of it, he thought for a moment. He had been the only won born in this Land, except for the boy they had left behind on the beach. The others had all been brought here
It had been the Lords doing, he had guided them. The Star of the sea, had watched over her servants, and let them punish the guilty
So he was now master of the Iasper
The sun was getting higher in the sky. The horses were sweating, some of the men, were seeking, shade. He had sent word to the port. Though rumour would claim the wreath in that race! Juan accompanied by some of the fishermen, were aboard the ship. The ships chest had been removed, and brought to shore. The crew were now. Well the fishing would be good for the next few days.
It was like asking a village butcher to carve a elephant for roasting. Or a portside Idler to snare a whale with the hook he dangled off a pier, on a friday. He could take as much as he would want, but what should he do with the rest
The Fishermen had been earning a little silver as they ferried Juan and Hugh back and forth to the Iasper. They had been singing loudly and joyfully if not melodiously as they worked there oars. It would be a feast day . Their families had stripped the Jasper crew, of their coin and hose. One old granny had smashed a set of gold teeth, from one dead heretic with a rock. Her granddaughter would have a fine dowry! A flask or two of wine had been passed around. Not more that that though. Hugh had promised at the Altar of the little rude chapel, that he would not forget the parishioners, who had helped him on this day.
Juan had one grim duty. Should an unfriendly ship, one of the Jasper confederates sail into view. Juan was to sink the Jasper. A match cast in her power magazine, and the ship would be lost.
That would at least resolve his dilemena
So, what to do?
He could hire a crew from the docks, appoint a Master and live off the cargo’s. It was a tempting prospect. Well he would perhaps supply Juan or Antonio the sheep rancher, with the capital. Even this far away from Madrid it was not the proper thing for a Gentleman to indulge in trade
It was several weeks sailing from Buenos Aires to the Plantations, and Sugar Islands. Would he ever see the Iasper again, the temptation for the ships company, to turn pirate would be great and he would be too far. Even horses went wild, if ones gazed slipped from them for a second. What he knew about picking
One of the fisher folk approached and bowed. Hugh took off his hat, to the man. There was time for a little magnanimity, the fisherman presented him, with a cup of water, it was a rude earthenware beaker. The peasants had been using them, since a little after Eden. Still the gift would be well meant and received, he drank from it.
He would at the privy till Christmas, he knew it, but such was the price of rank. He thanked the fisherman. It stood well, to be good to fisherman, one had done very well for himself after all.
The Fisher thanked him, bowed and thanked him, and then bowed, and then and asked if his Wife could clean his lordship boots. Juan thanked him kindly. There was never such solicitude from the lower orders as when your purse was full. Indeed he thought for a moment the Fisherman had addressed him, as Your Holiness
The petitioner and his wife beckoned him over to a small, hut. Not too far. A drift wood log outside made, well a poor man’s poor man’s bench and the shade unlike the Kingdom of Heaven made no distinction based on wealth. Slipping off his riding boots and handing them to the mistress of the cottage Hugh inclined his head. The nodding well received as a gesture of thanks by his host. The Cottager’s woman made a passable mimicry of a curtsey in reply
A daughter who was almost ten summers, he meant years. (The shade of his tutor should still stalk him even across the plains and waves) Smiled and she brought over another cup of water. The strawberry arms, of the Matrona began to beat his boots against the wall. A smaller child, looked at him agape. Than tiring of the heir of Niall of the Nine hostages, scuttled back into the cottage. His sister sang him a lullaby, and both the pup and the Prince napped.
(Karoline was laughing)
``Don ? ‘’
The fisherman fetched one of the O Neill’s sworn men. Eduardo. Eduardo who tall, and sought to usurp Juan position in the household. The long fellow was the nickname the maids gave him. Being the tallest of the company, the poor, children, and women imparted him with importance.
Which was perhaps a good thing, would being the Son of a Great house be compensation for having to stand on a stool, to mount his horse.
The two trades in colloquy had decided to wake the member of the first estate
His boots were clean. The Seasiders had done a decent job his purse would be lighter but it would be worth it. A small siesta had raised his spirits
There was a coin, in his sleeve.
`` Non! Non monsieur,’’ the housewife yelped. The Husband’s face flushed like a maid who has overheard her father and uncles joking over supper ... It may have youngest child had started to cry, and his older sister tried to hush him. Her face now as white as good linen, her extra years a burden the babe had the satisfaction of bawling. The fisherman bowed, and whispered something to Eduardo, and brought his wife indoors. Eduardo looked as if he was going to start to a fight
As with horses, a sweet word would do the work of a spur. You could never teach the Castlian’s that though
``My friend, what is the matter, a fine job you have done with my boots. Your wife is a credit to you’’
Monsieur, the fisherman, was probably Navarese, or maybe a Vascaro, like his mother. A Catalan or Italian would have said Don. An Irishman would have called him, by his surname. Than sworn that their grandfathers had been brothers, and indeed his great grandfather had saved his great grandmother from the lust of the Regent himself A Bohemian or a German simply bowed.
Even a day’s ride from the port, it was Babel.
The Fisherman speaking as quietly as he could bear Shared what had troubled his household so his wife, had a spinster sister. She had been one of th wretched company that they buried, in the women’s house. They had heard that the heretics had defiled her, and killed her. They had heard, it had been the young Lord of the ...Irlandessa, who had buried her, and now you avenge her murder. We are in your debt, as our our children. We cannot take your money.
A barefoot fisherman pled, and whimpered for the privilege of turning down a scrap of silver. After cleaning the calf skin boots of a man who feasted on veal.
He had almost said Wilde Irlandessa
Pride was a terrible sin.
Quietly like a cutpurse after Mass. The memory of that day, the stink and foulness of the place, the wretched fate of the woman crept into Hugh’s mind.
The Son of God, had instructed them, that the Poor would always be with him. So he let the matter pass. There would be time, to feed the hungry, and clothe the naked, and scold the proud tomorrow.
Hugh forced a smile and removed his hand from his hilt. Nodding he asked the good woman for a cup of a water. A sudden thirst had come upon him.
Th little daughter was whispering a lullaby, to the babe and the fisherman, and his wife scurried away. The wife being scolded under her husband breath, the neighbours would be gossiping about this day for years.
Eduardo pointed at the Horizon,
The Fishermen, were silent, the baby had been hushed
Sails
Sails, A ship, Another ship
Oh Jesu!
