‘How did that persuade you to rush on your opponent like a man possessed?’ asked Hector.
‘King Charles lost his head to a single axe stroke. Everyone knows a headsman sometimes needs three, even four, blows to finish the cut. So imagine what sort of sword you need to do the same job so cleanly.’
‘It hadn’t ever occurred to me,’ said Hector drily.
‘Something with an edge so finely honed, and yet so strong and slender, it whips through sinew and bone as you or I might lop a twig from a tree.’
Hector recalled the design of the Shimazu sword. It had a slight curve towards the tip, a longish handle and – if he had seen it correctly – the blade was ridged in the centre.
‘And how light it was,’ Jezreel continued. ‘I watched that warrior wielding it. The sword was like an extension to his arm, beautifully balanced and easy to swing. It wasn’t the weight of the sword that carried it through the castaway’s neck. It was the quality, shape and flexibility of it, as sweet a blade as you could imagine.’
Jezreel was enjoying his subject. Edged weapons and their use had been part of his livelihood as a prizefighter. ‘That warrior had good reason to treat that blade like something very precious.’
‘I still don’t see the connection between his regard for the sword and the way you attacked him,’ said Hector. He recalled how carefully the man-at-arms had handed his sword to the attendant before he went forward to face Domine and his stiletto.
Jezreel was working on a rope’s end that had become kinked. His big, scarred hands untwisted the strands until they lay snugly together again. ‘I guessed he’d do anything to protect that blade. The cutting edge would easily chip if it hit hard against something really solid. And to knock out even a tiny sliver of metal would be sacrilege, as far as he was concerned.’
‘So you rushed at him to threaten the blade, rather than the man himself?’
‘Precisely. His first instinct was to defend himself with a blocking blow, using the blunt edge of his sword. Once I’d tricked him into raising his sword, reverse side up, I was going to pin him down, keep him in place and batter him into submission.’
‘You picked up his sword after the fight.’
‘Yes. I just wanted to check I’d been right. The leading edge was as sharp and fine as a razor, and it had what a cutler calls a grind ridge down the centre of the blade. That left the back edge blunt and gave the blade its strength.’
‘But didn’t you think of the risk when you hurled yourself forward so blatantly?’
‘I worried that my backsword would shatter against such wonderfully wrought steel. But in the end it did the job for me.’ He looked across to Dan as he approached them. ‘Here’s our pilot now. Looks like he got his job done as well.’
The Miskito had spent the last half-hour perched out on the bowsprit, peering down into the water. He had been conning the ship along the channel, giving hand signals to the men at the helm. As usual, he looked very self-composed.
‘Safely clear?’ asked Jezreel.
‘No more coral heads I could see, and after three days of going out to strike fish on the reef, I know the channel well enough to say that we are finished with it.’
Jezreel turned to Hector. ‘So it’s up to you now. You’re still our navigator, even though the fancy topknot made trash of your charts and backstaff. Where do you think we should go?’
‘We still have our compasses, so we can retrace the same course that brought us here,’ Hector answered without hesitation. He had been mulling over the problem from the moment the Nicholas had weighed anchor.
‘You mean we head back towards the Thief Islands?’
‘With Dan to help me, it’ll take only a couple of days to make a replacement backstaff and I’ve still got the almanac. So I’ll soon be able to fix our latitude.’
Jezreel gave Hector a shrewd look. ‘Have you come round to our way of thinking that we might find Maria?’
Hector felt uncomfortable and bewildered. He knew he owed a debt to his friends. Their scheming had brought his search for the woman he loved much farther forward. Yet as the possibility of reaching the Ladrones grew stronger, he had begun to have doubts. He secretly dreaded what he’d find in the islands. Maybe Don Alonso in Valdivia had been wrong, and Maria’s employer had never taken her to the islands and she was still in Peru. Or Maria had moved on and was no longer there. Worse, some misfortune might have befallen her. There were so many hazards in Spain’s far-flung colonies – fevers, unknown diseases, sudden contagions – and few places could be more remote than the Ladrones. If Maria fell sick in such a place, there’d be no doctors, only local remedies, and her death would have been unremarkable. Except to him.
And even if he did find Maria, how would she respond to him after all this time? Maybe she’d changed her mind or had forgotten him for another man. Everything was so uncertain. The more he tried to understand his feelings about her, the more confused he became and the less inclined to share his misgivings.
‘Maybe Maria won’t even recognize me if we do ever find her,’ he mumbled.
Eaton called for him from the quarterdeck, and Hector was grateful to break off the conversation and make his way to where the captain was in conference with the quartermaster.
‘Lynch, the quartermaster thinks we should return on the same course that brought us here.’
‘I agree. In a couple of days I’ll have a replacement backstaff. Dan can help me. He’s clever with his hands. And I have the almanac.’
‘Do you remember anything from that chart that was destroyed? Any details that might help?’
Hector shook his head. ‘No. But I do know the right latitude for the Ladrones. Our safest course is to sail south until we reach that parallel, then turn west until we strike the islands. They should lie across our track.’
‘Let’s hope we don’t overrun them,’ said Eaton. ‘We’ve only enough water for ten days, even on short allowance.’
The Nicholas’ abrupt departure under threat from the Ta-yin had been a hectic scramble. There had only been enough time to carry the half-repaired sails back aboard and load two dozen barrels of fresh water. There had been no point in asking the villagers for supplies. They were cowed into submission by their overlords.
‘There’ll be no more lolling about on-shore or easy times,’ said Eaton grimly. ‘When we reach the Ladrones, we keep our weapons and our wits about us, and make it clear that anyone who troubles us suffers.’
HECTOR WAS feeling pleased with himself. As he had predicted, land had been sighted after eight days at sea. The lookout at the masthead had reported two islands side by side. But as the Nicholas drew closer, the dark double hump on the horizon was revealed as a single large island with a high summit at each end and a saddle of land between.
‘Any idea what that place might be, Lynch?’ asked Eaton. Like the rest of the crew, Hector was on the foredeck, trying to distinguish the main features of the shoreline. Behind the usual fringe of coral with its breaking waves was a quiet lagoon maybe a hundred yards across. From its beach a coastal plain extended to a line of reddish-grey bluffs, which marked the boundary of a plateau. Farther on, the ground climbed steeply to rugged highlands. Everywhere was solid green – the feathery tops of coconut palms on the lowland, dense jungle on the bluffs and lower slopes of the mountain, open grassland on the summit.
‘One of the Thief Islands,’ Hector answered. ‘But I have no idea which one.’
‘This time we won’t poke our heads in a noose. We work our way round to the south until we get into a lee. Then we’ll either heave to or drop anchor.’ Eaton walked briskly back to the quarterdeck. A short while later the Nicholas turned and began to follow the coast.