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.
The slave, a young lady, bowed as she took the jug from Barboza's hands. The man replied with a smile, eyes scanning every inch of the slave's lithe body. He bit his own lips as the servant went her way to fetch another drink for them.
***
The foreigners were getting rowdier by the jug but the uripon, the slaves that tended them could not do anything but follow their whims. It was what their Lord Humabara wanted- for all of the pale men to drown in wine and excess. The uripon avoided the boisterous men. She awkwardly snaked between them to reached the dim kitchen on the other side of the room. And as she opened the curtains to find another jug of basi someone in the darkness grabbed her hands and covered her mouth.
"Shhhh...don't shout."
The slave nodded, eyes wide in shock. The man's voice was familiar.
"This won't be long."
The slave gave another more courteous nod. She'd heard of the voice countless of times before. As the scant light covered the man's face, she bowed her head. "Master, pardon me–"
"Nahhh... no more pleasantries. Here, give this to our guest," he said after a satisfied snort. The man in the shadows gave her a couple of clay jugs filled to the brim. "And when your done. I want you to leave us alone."
"Where will I go master?"
"To my house. Tell my wife to proceed to Bo-ol as planned, tell her I'll follow after I settle things here. Tell her to wait there for me. My cousin will gladly welcome the family there."
The slave nodded as she place the jugs on a tray. "Yes, master Humabara."
A few minutes passed when the servant exited from the kitchen and refilled every crew man's drink. Then, she made her way to Barboza. The man stood at the far end of the hall now, eyeing her every move like a hawk to a prey. Upon reaching the leader of the pale men, the drunk captain snatched a clay jug from her and took a drink, passing the rest of the tray to his thirsty men.
"What took you so long?" He took another drink, sloshing it inside his mouth.
The servant only bowed in reply. She didn't understand any word. Nor did she realised the things that are about to happen. Barboza wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Now, that... was a good drink," he said as he grabbed the servant by the waste, embracing the poor woman like a jungle python.
"Spare me, please," pleaded the slave to the pale captain. But it only came out as gibberish to the foreigner.
Barboza leaned closer to the slave, their faces inches from each other. "Been watching you...I know your kind. First, you'll try to resist. Do your best to reject me and then...You'll eventually give in."
His men laughed in vile satisfaction.
"Should we try it... to find out?" He grabbed the slave by the hair, making the girl cry in fright. With his other hand he tore a piece of the slave's 'malong'.
He was about to do something regretful and abhorrent to the slave but a sharp pain in his gut stopped him in his tracks. He suddenly felt dizzy as though the world suddenly tilted on its side for no apparent reason. He tried to shake it off and blame the natives' hard liquor but his vision turned blurry. It was not the typical buzz he'd felt after drinking too hard before. A familiar nauseous sensation came upon him. In that moment, he realised something was off. He turned to his men and they weren't looking good too. A couple of them were already vomiting their guts out on the bamboo floor, faces covered in grim pallor.
"Ah, fuck," Barboza said as he realised what was happening. "No, not like this."
Barboza pried the clay jug from one of his crewmen's hand and gave it a sniff. He tried to speak again but instead he collapsed on the floor. His men followed his led soon after. The chest pain, nausea and numbness were all signs pointing to one thing. Poison. Their drink was spiked with poison, Barboza realised. So, he tried to turn to his side. He didn't want to choke on his own puke. Barboza calmed himself down but panic already settled in his heart as his men fell like flies, faces slowly turning purple red. All of them wearing masks of deep pain. Barboza shoved a finger inside his throat. He had to do something about it but his limbs were numb already as the mild paralysis settled in. It was going to be a slow painful death for him. He cursed. He could feel defeat creeping in as he shoved three of his fingers straight down his throat. And as he did he heard heavy foot steps from the kitchen. Coming towards him...
"Like what I prepared for you, rat?" the man from the curtain of darkness said. He adjusted the white 'putong' head wrap as he leaned closer to Barboza. It was close enough that he could smell the pale man's foul breath.
"You?" Barboza whispered in his own tongue, breathing heavy.
"Suffer no more...," Humabara took the jug from the table and raised it high, "for your salvation is at hand." He dropped it, spilling its vile contents on the bamboo floor. He smiled. Zullah's bane concoction did a phenomenal job here, Humabara thought. Guess the man knew what he was talking about.
Barboza clawed his throat, face slowly turning purple. "Why? Why?" He tried to spit the poison but instead coughed out a clod of blood speckled phlegm. "I don't want to die, please. I don't..." He tried to stand using his hands but instead fell on the bamboo floor.
Humabara winced and then smiled once more. "Each must come to an end. And this is your end, pale pig."
"I don't give a goat's arse about what your talking about," Barboza said after he puked his insides once again.. "Just help me!"
Humabara ignored him and went back from whence he came with someone in tow. "Here, come and see what I have." He dropped Mallaca down the floor. The scarecrow of a man tried his best to break free from the rattan rope that shackled his hands. But he was not strong enough. "Nope, not gonna happen," Humabara said as plain as he could. "They're very tough my friend." Then, he took the piece of cloth on Mallaca's mouth. "I want you to translate everything I say to your master." He tapped Barboza's head like he was petting a dog.
Mallaca only nodded.
"Let's begin, shall we? Now, why are we here? Why do this? Plain and simple actually. I don't really handle disrespect all too well like other people. If they do the unthinkable, I find a way to punish them. Now, do you know what you did?" He turned to Barboza but the man was busy emptying his guts out. Ignoring him in the process. "Oh, you people don't really learn. Okay, let me lend you a hand there." Humabara stood and kicked the foreigner's gut with pleasure.
The man groaned and whimpered as every blow struck him. The poison coursing his body wasn't pleasant but nothing can really beat a dose of manhandling once in a while. Another blow made him puke his innards out. All of this was because of Magalhaes, Barboza thought. Another kick landed which sent him reeling for a few seconds.
Humabara paused for a moment to catch his breath, giving Barboza a chance to gulp as much air as he could. The captain knew that his chance were thin to even things out. The poison and the beating made sure of it. Things were going worse and worse as every second passed. He silently cursed himself. He was angry for the betrayal. But he was angrier at the thought that the fat rajah one upped him - fooled him and at the last moment backstabbed him as though he was nothing but a fool.
So, right that moment... he decided to act. And act like an animal he did.
"You are one tough vermin!" Humabara said as he raised his legs to kick the poisoned captain one more time. But Barboza timed it perfectly, catching it with both hands. He gave Humabara a puke stained smile before he dragged him down.
"No...no...no...," Humabara protested as he fell on his back, landing in a sickening thud.
"Whoopsies," Barboza said a the rajah's head landed on the floor. Agony crossed Humabara's face as he struggled to stand but before he could recover Barboza covered his mouth with one hand.
"You talk too much."
Then, the vile captain bit the rajah in the face and stabbed the native leader in the eye with the sharp end of the bamboo spoon. He stabbed the other eye for good measure too. He stabbed and stabbed like a devil and blood sprayed and fountained all over the place.
Barboza raised his head, lips crimson red. "And now, your dead." He gave Humabara a pat on the forehead as though he was slightly sorry about what he did. "But don't worry you'll get used to it."
The captain of Concepcion was still in a state of vertigo but he'd been in worse hang overs before. The vomiting wasn't nice but it took most of the poison with it. Good thing God gave us vomits, he thought.
Humabara finally croaked his last breath when Barboza took his hands off the man's mouth. Then, the captain laughed.
"Get it?, he said." Come on. Didn't you get the joke?" Barboza slapped the rajah on the face.
He pushed himself away from the dead man and fumbled for support. He finally leaned against the table to stand, tasting the bitter taste of his own vomit. He turned his eyes on Mallaca, who was too shock to speak.
"What?, he said."You haven't seen a man kill someone with a spoon before?"
Both men vomited for different reasons.