"Beat to quarters!"
"The dogs broke out!"
"They went that way!"
Castillano jumped to the cart's seat and signaled the man holding the reins to get going. He was badly shaved and looked even worse, but if he'd mingled unnoticed among the garrison at the carriage yard, he'd do at the cathedral.
Castillano was sort of curious, but he really didn't want to know how Dolores Mondrego had managed to put up that daring plan in only one day. All that mattered was that she'd done it, and now he had a part to play. So there he was, with the husband of one of the Governor's laundresses in a stolen uniform, heading to the cathedral to get Marina. To take her to one of the harbor brothels, where Dolores and the women of the house swore they could hide the child.
They reached the cathedral from the east to avoid the racket around the Governor's palace and stopped at a secondary entrance on the northern side of the building. Castillano sneaked up to the corner to take a look at the Main Square, and the first thing he noticed was that the search parties put together in a hurry were all heading south. To the harbor. Right in his way.
"Bloody dogs!" he snarled. He could only hope Alonso would catch them soon.
He went back to the secondary access and pounded on the door with his fist. He had to do it several times until he heard hurried footsteps from the other side. A creaking spyhole opened and a thin, severe face scowled at him from inside.
He stepped back and opened his cloak, showing his uniform in the light of the lantern by the door.
"Captain Castillano with the Windward Fleet, at the Governor's orders," he said.
The spyhole closed.
He frowned, puzzled, when the door didn't open. He was about to knock again when he heard a bar lifted and a key turning. A scrawny nun, her hardened face covered in small wrinkles, showed at the doorway with a lamp.
"Good evening, sister. I've been sent for the prisoner. My orders are to take her to San Carlos castle right away."
The nun looked him up and down, not signs of having even heard him.
Castillano forced himself to keep his calm and manners. "We're in a hurry, sister. The pirates have broken out of prison and we're afraid they might attack the church to rescue the prisoner. We're taking her to the castle until they're captured and it's safe again for you to have her back in your custody."
The woman kept staring at him in such a way that made Castillano wonder whether she was deaf. He stepped up and she raised the lamp, as if it would stop him. Before he insisted again, she spoke in a voice that sounded like the lashing of a whip.
"And they sent you all alone, without an escort?"
"The Governor doesn't have many men, sister, and I gave him mine to join the chase. I'm enough to transport a single prisoner."
"She's under the authority of the Holy Church, Captain. His Reverence the Bishop will decide what we shall do."
"And does Monsignor know what's going on?"
"His Reverence is resting."
"Then please go inform him that a band of pirates plans to attack the cathedral to retrieve the prisoner."
"Pirates won't desecrate the House of the Lord again."
"That's what you thought after L'Olonnais," he replied bitterly. "Until Morgan came along." He saw his words hit the target and took the last step to stand face to face with the nun. The woman's surly frown hesitated when they heard shouts and shots from the east. "So if you'd allow me, sister. While you report to Monsignor about the situation, and Monsignor makes a decision, I'm taking the prisoner to safety, in order to keep danger away from the House of the Lord. You've already suffered enough in the hands of these murderers. Monsignor can inform the Governor of his decision."
The nun could only step aside to let him in. She closed the door with a concerned look at the Main Square and waved for him to follow her. Castillano set his jaw, getting ready for a nasty sight. And he needed all his will to keep his mouth shut when he walked out to the east yard.
Marina hung from the pillory, and her position showed she was out or dead, for nobody conscious would bear it without howling in pain. The nun stopped by the stone columns, letting him go on alone. He stepped out of the gallery and paused, noticing the tiny pebbles carpeting the ground. They shattered under his feet, and he even felt a sharp splinter scratching the sole of his boot. He swallowed a curse and hurried toward the pillory.
He found it locked with a huge iron padlock and turned to the nun, pointing at it. He clenched his fists, his nails sticking into his palm, when he heard Marina groaned in the lowest thread of voice, a continuous unwilling cry.
"The key to the padlock, sister?"
"His Reverence keeps it."
"And His Reverence—"
"Is resting."
"Then please express my deepest apology to him."
He turned his back to the nun and grasped his gun, aiming to the wooden tabs the padlock held closed. The shot caused a commotion in the upper rooms opening to the east yard. Castillano yanked the pillory open. Marina crumbled on the shattered shells like a puppet without strings.
Castillano leaned forward to lift her in his arms, swearing again when he realized she was soaking wet in cold water, lost in a fevered rave, all her body trembling out of control.
He crossed the yard back toward the nun with Marina in his arms as lights showed upstairs. He had to hurry, before the Bishop got up and stopped him. He pressed on down the hall to the closed door, dragging the nun behind him. There he had to stop and turned to the woman, who hesitated again.
"Trust me, sister, none of you want those sons of the Devil desecrating the House of the Lord to find their friend in this state. Because they'll make you pray for L'Olonnais to come save you."
The nun swallowed her objections and opened the door, letting him out. He hurried down the steps to the street, fought back his urge to check on Marina and threw her into the cart like a bundle. He climbed to the seat, ordering the fake soldier to head north to the Highroad that led to San Carlos castle by land.
As soon as they left the cathedral's northern access behind, Castillano jumped from the seat to the back of the cart, leaving his accomplice to pick the best way around to reach the harbor, avoiding the patrols that had spread all over looking for the fugitives. Oblivious to the distant shouting and shots, he leaned over Marina and tried to make her lie down on the hay. But he couldn't. The girl's limbs were stiff and cramped, and she groaned when he tried to make her stretch her legs.
"Holy Mary, child! What have they done to you?" he muttered horrified.
She kept shaking, her legs half-folded, her arms bent and up, her wrists twisted by her head as if she were still in the pillory. The crude robe covering her was stuck to her legs and knees, one side of her face was covered in dried blood from a cut along her cheekbone. Her hair had been cropped so short that he could see her scratched scalp at some spots.
He wrapped her in his cloak. Marina's eyes were open, but it was plain to see the girl was unconscious, her cracked lips parted, still letting out that hideous weak groan along with the tortured whistle of her labored breath. Castillano caressed his burning forehead as furious tears flooded his eyes, and he grabbed a cramped hand.
"It's over, child," he whispered, his lips against the fingers twisted into claws. "You're safe now."
He suffocated an exclamation when she tried to turn her head, following the sound of his voice. Then he quit fighting himself and took her in his arms, holding her against his chest, his face against the girl's shoulder cramped in a shrug. She shivered from head to toes and her constant groan died away.
Afraid his tight embrace had made it harder for her to breathe, he loosened it a little. And he found the deadened eyes sliding over his face. Marina moved her mouth as if trying to speak. Castillano brought his ear to her trembling lips.
After a few failed attempts, Marina was able to mumble, "Captain?"
He faced her to nod and smile at her, hiding his shock, his hand flat on the cropped head.
"Yes, Velazquez, it's me," he replied, fighting to keep his voice steady. "Quit getting in trouble, that I'm growing bored of running to the rescue, you know?"
Marina's lips trembled again. She forced herself to swallow and tried to say something else. He lifted her to make her rest her head on his shoulder and brought his face closer to the girl's mouth again.
"Fo-forgive me— I didn't want..." she murmured. "I'm— sorry... so sorry..."
"Oh, shut up!" he grunted, holding her tight once more.
Tears overflowed her eyes, mixing with Castillano's when he pressed his cheek against hers.