Lions of the Sea

10

Laventry grimaced. "I don't know who would sign up. It'll be months of little gain. We can afford it, but who else would be willing to help us for free?"

"I'll talk to the Governor," said Wan Claup. "Maybe he can spare his light frigate."

"Seeing is believing," Laventry grunted.

"We should also tell our men," Harry said. "They deserve to know they'll be sailing for the meals."

"Not so much," Wan Claup replied. "Patrolling close to home doesn't mean staying out of the trade routes."

"True." Laventry flashed a wolfish smile. "And who says we can't have it both ways—duty and fun."

Harry raised his empty cup. "I'll toast to that, brother. Even though toasting with tea may be bad luck."

Wan Claup smiled. "You're right. Come, let me invite you something more appropriate."

The three men bid Cecilia goodnight and left the dining room toward the library, in higher spirits than just a while ago. She picked the tea service up and headed to the kitchen.

An hour later, when her brother came back from walking his friends out, he found her still there, alone, sewing a shirt.

"Would you like more tea?" she asked, all smiles and sweetness.

"Please, if you think that'll keep me from a stroke."

Cecilia chuckled and left her chore to take the water pot hanging on the hearth.

"I was thinking about what you were talking, about patrolling the surroundings," she said, turning her back to him with the excuse of pouring tea for both of them. "How would it work? Which way would you take?"

Wan Claup studied her, trying to guess why his sister would ever be interested on that.

"Well, you heard us: two to the east, two to the west, one from each pair to the north, the other to the south. Why?"

"And is there any chance that you wouldn't come across many Spanish ships in one of those areas?" Cecilia used what was on the table to explain her idea. "Picture this is Tortuga and La Hispaniola," she said, placing the sugar pot before him. "Here's Cuba." She placed a banana from the fruit plate on the table. "And this is Puerto Rico." A fig was placed at the other side of the sugar pot. "How would it be sailing east around La Hispaniola?" Her finger moved around the sugar pot toward the fig that represented Puerto Rico. "This way, southeast up to the Mona Passage, south down the strait and then northwest, between La Hispaniola and Jamaica, to come back up the Windward Passage. How dangerous could that be?"

Wan Claup raised his eyebrows. "You just crossed all the routes coming from Europe and the Spanish Main, and sailed by half a dozen Spanish forts. How dangerous could that be?"

Cecilia bit her lower lip. "Merde," she muttered. She looked up, saw her brother's shock at her cursing and couldn't help a smile. "Fear not for my soul. I'll confess in the morning."

Wan Claup chuckled and pointed at the sugar pot. "Nevertheless, whoever patrols that area cannot go around La Hispaniola. The Armada could sail from San Juan the moment we turn into the Mona Passage and head here unnoticed. The logical course would be following La Hispaniola's coast up to the Passage, and back down the same route."

"And would that be too dangerous?"

"That'd be up to the captain. Speak up, Cécile. What do you have in mind?"

She shrugged, hesitating. "Well, I thought that if you could choose an area that wouldn't take you near the trade routes, maybe—"

"Maybe?"

"Maybe you could take Marina with you?"

Wan Claup choked on his tea and was about to spill it onto himself. He managed to land the cup on the table and coughed loudly. Cecilia hurried to bring him a glass of water. When he was able to breathe again, he faced her speechless. Because he knew his sister meant it.

"Why would you want me to take Marina with me?"

Cecilia sighed. "She tries to be contented and act happy, but I see her growing more uneasy by the day. I'm afraid she may run to Jamaica, where nobody knows her, and try to pose as a man to enroll on the first ship she finds. And you know what would happen to her when they find out she's a girl."

Wan Claup raised his hand a little, as to keep away the ugly image her words conjured.

"That's why I thought that if she could sail, on a boring, safe trip—"

"That would give her some peace of mind."

"Yes. Spending some weeks onboard, until she's sick and tired of scrubbing decks and heaving lines like any other sailor, having nothing like an adventure. Maybe that way her dreams wouldn't be so appealing anymore, and her yearning would wane. And I could sleep better at night."

Wan Claup looked down at what was left of his tea, pondering the idea with a grave frown. Finally he took a deep breath and stood up.

So did Cecilia, expecting some kind of answer.

"Let me sleep on it," was all the corsair said.

She nodded, trying to smile when her brother kissed her goodnight.