Marina didn't need to play shy when they arrived in Veracruz, for she'd never seen such a big, populated city before. The merchantman captain directed Dolores to a decent lodging and sent two of his sailors with them, to carry their heavy luggage chest.
As soon as they found accommodation, Dolores left Marina in the room they would share and went back to the reception with a letter for the Great Admiral. Alonso knew the man personally, and had dictated that letter to Dolores back in Tortuga, especially designed to catch the Great Admiral's attention. She paid one of the lodge's young men to take it to the Admiralty, and promised a gold coin if he came back with an answer from the Great Admiral.
Back to their room, she found Marina pacing up and down.
"Now we can only wait, pearl," she said. "But only for today. If we don't get an answer, we ourselves are going for it tomorrow morning."
However, only two hours later the lodge boy came back with a note from the Great Admiral, to let Dolores know he'd be honored to meet with her in the morning.
"The Governor's letter, not me," Dolores translated.
"You didn't send it?"
"Had I done it, the Great Admiral wouldn't feel the need to see us."
"Is it because they're men or politics?"
"Both, my dear friend. And because we are women. A woman requesting a meeting with such a high navy officer is extremely unusual. You'll see the officers' faces tomorrow when they see us there."
"The longer this journey gets, the more I thank God for being born in Tortuga," the girl grunted.
Dolores caressed her cheek tenderly, a gesture that reminded her of her mother. "Now we're here, dear. And we won't leave without seeing the captain."
"We won't leave without him," Marina corrected her.
The next morning, the lodge's coach took Dolores and Marina to the Admiralty building. On the way, the girl couldn't help looking back, to the coast.
"Already missing the sea?" Dolores asked.
"No, no, it's... What are those towers?"
Dolores looked out the window and replied, "San Juan de Ulua castle. You're not planning to visit it, are you?"
Marina shook her head with a mild frown, her eyes on the fortress bulwarks. Since the moment she'd waken up, she'd felt that upsetting sensation she'd known before the battle against the Lion, and then again before fighting the Armada. Could it be that Castillano was there, in Veracruz, in that fortress? Or was she about to face something like a battle?
The guards outside the Admiralty didn't hide their surprise when they climbed the steps to the tall gates, and hesitated to let them in. Dolores played her bossy-wealthy-lady part and ordered them to confirm the Great Admiral was waiting for her. The man charged to do so hurried back to lead them in.
The Great Admiral met them at the hall outside his office. He was an elderly man with eagle eyes in a weather-beaten face, a raspy voice after years of shouting commands at sea. He kissed Dolores' hand and invited her to walk with him. Marina followed them, two steps behind, and kept her eyes down.
"My dear lady, your arrival is a true miracle of the Providence," the man said, leading Dolores to a broad marble flight of stairs at the end of the hall. "The jury examining Captain Castillano's cases had set the date for today to issue a verdict. When they knew of your request for a meeting, they asked to hear you out before making the sentence public. If you don't mind talking to them and answer their questions, of course."
Marina felt her heart drum when she heard him. She crossed her hands and pressed her lips together tight, struggling to keep calm. Sentence! They'd found him guilty? Would she still have a chance or the time to do anything?
"Sentence!" Dolores repeated, in the exact same tone Marina would've said it aloud. "Good Lord! Of course I'm talking to this jury of yours! That poor boy did nothing but fulfilling his duty bravely, and he's been involved in this misunderstanding only because of me!"
The Great Admiral didn't hide his surprise at her words. "I hope you're right, milady. I know the Captain from his Academy years, and all this has troubled me deeply."
Castillano spent the night in a cold room of the Santiago Bastion at castle San Juan. The jury had summoned him to Veracruz for the final hearing, to hear verdict and sentence. The castle commander knew him, and even if he couldn't welcome Castillano as a guest colleague, he refused to keep him in a cell. So Castillano had the chance to spend what he assumed was his last night in the world with a window from where he could see and hear the sea, and where the fresh sea wind reached him.
He knew they'd sentence him to death. He'd always known. Even when he'd accepted to help Dolores rescue Marina from the Inquisition. And over the long weeks he'd been locked up, he'd had plenty of time to come to terms with his fate. His legal counsel was shocked when he'd refused to appeal the charge of treason. It was what he'd done after all. The only reason why he hadn't confessed was to protect Dolores, so he had repeated the account he'd given to Lorenzo. But he was guilty and that was the law. He didn't want to spend months and maybe even years until being sentenced. Nor did he want to push the jury to conduct an individual interrogation, those that started on the rack and ended with the defendant confessing to flogging Jesus Christ.
He wasn't afraid of dying. But he hadn't expected to die like that. If he wasn't killed in combat, he'd dreamed of finding a good woman to raise a family, a home to come back from the sea, with children racketing around when he only wanted to get some rest.
He didn't sleep. It felt like a sin, wasting his last hours in something so trivial, when the eternal sleep awaited half a mile away at sunrise.
He stood on his bunk to watch the sun rise from the sea one last time.
When the guards opened the door, they found him ready to face the jury.
They took him to the Admiralty building in a coach, escorted by soldiers on horseback. As if he would try to escape. They surrounded him to take him up the steps he'd climbed so many times over the last years. He wasn't restricted in any way. Those who came across him only saw a young captain in full uniform, with half a dozen soldiers.
He saw people down the hall leading to the courtroom. He recognized the Great Admiral, who was bound to be there because he presided the jury. His counsel was there too, and a few men that looked like aids or scribes. As he got closer, he was surprised to see his counsel and the Great Admiral talking to a woman, wearing a regal purple dress. Two steps behind her was her maid, an olive-skinned child in a white dress that...
He frowned and set his jaw, annoyed at himself. He should stop seeing the Pearl of the Caribbean in every tanned girl he saw, first from his window in Campeche, and now there, at the Admiralty.
The black-eyed child surely was in Tortuga, just arrived from Maracaibo with her friends, who had been as kind as to liberate the city. Or maybe she was back at sea, chasing merchantmen and sinking frigates. And he wouldn't have the chance to fulfill his promise of not capturing her alive.
He almost smiled at the thought. But it was then that the maid looked up. Her black eyes met the widening blue eyes for a heartbeat. She looked down right away, lowering her head to make her mantilla hide her face.
Then Castillano heard the voice of the woman talking with his counsel. Dolores!? He needed all his will to keep from looking back when his escort made him stop before the courtroom gates. A chill ran down his spine while he waited to be taken into the courtroom. A feeling he knew. That morning on the Lion's bridge, when Marina's eyes met his from the Phantom's bridge.
He was too upset, and too busy hiding it, to wonder what on earth were those two doing there. Talking with the Great Admiral! Were they crazy? They'd only get two more nooses added to his!
He reached the side table where he was to sit with his counsel —who lingered out there with the Great Admiral and Dolores! He took his seat, crossed his hands on the table and nailed his eyes to his fingers. At his right, the jury took their seats behind the long desk. He heard them whisper among them, but didn't even try to understand what they were saying.
The courtroom gates opened again and Castillano's eyes jolted up. His counsel hurried to their table. Behind him, the Great Admiral led Dolores in. Marina followed them in her white dress, shy and demure like a virgin just out of a nunnery. The Great Admiral took them to the benches meant for witnesses and general public. Dolores sat down with her usual royal way, met Castillano's eyes openly and smiled at him. By her side, Marina kept her eyes low.
"This is what I call a lucky strike, Hernan," his counsel said, sitting down by Castillano and hiding Marina. "Doña Dolores Mondrego arrived here yesterday and agreed to speak before the jury. She says she has a deposition to do for you. And she carries a letter from Santo Domingo Governor to vouch for her words."
Castillano replied with a serious nod. Well, three nooses, then. At least he'd get a chance to talk to Marina, while the executioner tightened the ropes around their necks. To send her to hell for being so fool and reckless, for he hadn't saved her so she could willingly end up in the gallows so soon. He could hope only Laventry wouldn't come on her heels once more, and that Veracruz wouldn't follow Maracaibo's fate.
The civilian judge called for the hearing to be open and the Great Admiral explained who Dolores was and why she was there. The jury took their time to read the Governor's letter. Finally the judge asked her to raise and stand before the jury.