The Songs of Strife

37 CELEBRATION

In the city-state of Zubu, in the town of Singhapala Mavolo the torches' fiery glow made every pale man's face look devilish. Especially, that of Barboza as he recounted his tale of bravery against the insolent serfs of Kalipulako. It was a once in a life time performance from the charlatan and everyone listened.

But the night's cold air was not enough to quell the heat that the basi wine instilled on their guts. Nor did it give comfort to the feeling of loss they felt when they discovered their Captain General's death. It was all too much for them to take and their morale was on a new low. So, they settled for a distraction from Barboza but not all of them were happy hearing his lies.

"Yes, it's true!" Barboza said, a cup of drink in his hand. "I swear on my own grave."

Most men nodded their head.

"We were cornered by cold steel but fought with bravery for our cause," he added. "That is not defeat. It's a victory! And that was it, plain and simple." Barboza twirled his mustache, proud of his tales of lies. If his own words left a bitter after-taste on his mouth it soon faded as he chugged another cup of wine to wash it out for good measure.

"Enough of this,"said Delcano, anger welling on every word he uttered.

Everything he heard so far were all twisted lies. Barboza's mummery was simply too much for the young man to swallow. He rose to exit Singhapala Mavolo's town hall. But before the pilot could leave Barboza spoke.

"Where are you going, Delcano?" He gave a resounding belch. He was definitely drunk, now. "Did I give you permission to leave?"

"I can't stand any of this."

"I don't give a goat's arse about what you can tolerate. Answer me! Dammit. Where are you going?"

"Anywhere, as long as I'm far from you. Maybe I'll do what a respectable man will do and come with Pigafetta to demand 'our' Captain General's body from Kalipulako and his horde. Remember Fernao', your own brother-in-law?"

"Pffft... give it a rest will you. The man's dead. He's their trophy, now. Nothing we can do about it. It's our reality. Best for you to be realistic, boy."

"How in the holy hell could you take things in stride like that?"

Barboza raised a cup of basi wine on one hand and brandished a bamboo spoon on the other hand as though it were a king's sword. He pointed the sharp end of the spoon at his pilot and like a crooked monarch he bestowed his knowledge.

"Oh, don't worry...just keep on drinking and you'll get used to it."

"I think I won't. I'm not a cold-bloodied killer, nor, am I a dog like some of you here."

His words made everyone pause and a cloud of dread silence hovered over them all. Some crew men, those who retreated first, avoided Delcano's eyes. They hunkered down to hide their shame and regret from the pilot.

"Then, go ahead...Delcano," Barboza said after giving another resounding belch. "Go ahead. I don't care if you get yourself killed."

"Good to know that you still value one of your men's life," the pilot answered. And with that, Sebastian Delcano stormed off into the darkness, off to retrieved their leader's corpse. Off to be denied by Kalipulako's serfs.

"Sour puss...," Barboza said making the rest of his men laugh. "Let's not ruin the night. Drink on...drink on..."

He turned to one of Rajah Humabara's slave after emptying another drink. "You, come here and be useful. Go and get me some of this." The captain raised the empty clay jug so the slave could understand what he meant.