She treated him to a guarded smile. ‘I’d like that. All the time I was in the fort, I never saw how the local people really lived.’
In silence they strolled along the track to the beach. The path wound its way through a ravine where ferns and creepers grew among tangled roots of wild banyan. They startled a bird, a native dove with an iridescent green body and a rose-coloured head, which had been feeding on fallen seeds. It flew up with a sudden clatter of wings and they stopped and watched it weave its way among the branches. Hector stepped aside and broke off a bright-yellow blossom from a small, shrubby tree.
‘Dan tells me the Chamorro use the fibres from this tree to make their fishing lines and nets,’ he explained, as he held out the flower to Maria.
She took the blossom from him and looked at it for a moment. ‘The same flowers grew around the fort in Aganah. I love their bright colours, but there’s something sad about them. Each flower lasts no more than a day. By night the petals have faded and begun to fall.’
They emerged on to the open beach. The day was hot and sunny, but a few clouds were building up on the far horizon. The Chamorro fishing fleet had been at sea since dawn and was spread across the glittering surface of the bay. For some minutes they stood and watched the youngsters fishing with hook and line from their miniature dugout canoes. Farther out, the larger boats were tacking back and forth under sail.
‘Let’s find somewhere to sit down,’ suggested Hector, and together they walked to where a fishing canoe lay drawn up on the sand, covered with palm fronds to protect it from the sun. Hector watched Maria reach out and run a finger along the red and white lines that decorated the hull. He knew she was waiting for him to begin. Yet, in his uncertainty, he did not know how to start.
‘It must feel strange for you to be among these people,’ he ventured.
‘Not really,’ she replied. ‘It’s similar to the village where I grew up. We had the same concerns – tending the crops, providing for our families, teaching the children. The people here are more fortunate in one way. They don’t fear the winter cold.’
‘Have you heard from your family?’ he asked. He knew she came from a village in Andalusia and that her parents were plain, unpretentious people. They’d encouraged their only daughter to take up a position as companion to the wife of Don Fernando at a time when he was an up-and-coming government official in Peru with a bright future ahead of him.
Her poise weakened a little. ‘I haven’t had a letter in all the time I’ve been here. In her last letter my mother wrote to say my father was in poor health. His chest was weak and he had difficulty in breathing. I don’t know if he still lives.’
As if making up her mind about something, she turned to look at him directly.
‘Hector,’ she said firmly, ‘I know you’re worried about me, and my decision to come away with you. Does it help if I tell you I had already resolved to leave Aganah?’
‘Even if I hadn’t come?’
She nodded. ‘My life here has not been good.’
Hector sensed she was holding something back. ‘Because of me?’
‘Not in the way you’re thinking. Of course, I was longing and hoping to see you again.’
‘Can you tell me what happened?’
Maria gazed out across the sunlit bay, unseeing. ‘After I refused to testify at your trial for piracy, everything changed.’
‘Were you accused of lying?’
‘Not openly. But I was ignored, almost shunned. The same Spanish officials who had brought me from Peru to London, to give evidence at your trial, treated me as though I had betrayed my country.’
Hector felt guilt rise slowly within him. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘You made that sacrifice for me. Without you I’d have been condemned to hang.’
She looked directly into his eyes. ‘I’d do it again,’ she said. ‘But the days and months that followed passed so slowly, and I had no idea what would happen.’
‘It was the same for me,’ he said. ‘But now it will be different.’
‘From the bottom of my heart, I hope so,’ she answered. ‘Two days ago I wept, not because I was sorry to abandon Aganah and come away with you, but from relief that finally my wait was over.’
Hector felt humbled. ‘Was your life here so difficult?’
She nodded, and he noticed that her eyes were moist with tears once again. ‘When I first arrived in these islands, I told myself I’d wait two years, no more. If after that time you hadn’t come, I’d force myself to forget you. I’d make a new beginning.’
‘What did you plan to do?’
‘Ask Doña Juana to release me from service. I’m sure she would have agreed. At heart she’s a kind woman. She’d have persuaded her husband to find me passage to Manila on the next ship.’
‘Was it Don Fernando who was difficult?’
Maria bit her lips. ‘The Governor blamed me for his own troubles. He never said anything outright. But from the moment I returned to Peru, he was against me. Weeks would pass without him speaking to me directly, and I could sense his anger seething within him. And in all truth I was partly responsible for his disgrace.’
Hector allowed a long moment to pass before he touched on a subject that he knew would be a delicate one.
‘Maria,’ he said at last, ‘to leave these islands, we must have a suitable boat. The only way we can do that is to seize it from your compatriots. There will be bloodshed and—’
‘Perhaps it’s better if you don’t tell me any more,’ she interrupted.
Hector shook his head. ‘No. There mustn’t be secrets between us. Dan, Jezreel and the others will join me in an ambush. We intend to capture the patache that brings supplies to Aganah. The Chamorro will loot the vessel for weapons. We are to be given her launch for our voyage westwards.’
Maria looked at him in consternation. ‘Then we won’t leave the islands for many months,’ she said.
‘Why not?’
‘The patache has already been and gone.’
Hector thought he’d misheard. ‘But the Maestre de Campo told Jacques he was expecting more supplies, that a patache would be here at any time.’
Maria was struggling to keep her voice calm. ‘The patache did arrive, late last week. She dropped anchor off Aganah and stayed only long enough to unload, and then sailed onwards for Manila. The following day you and the others climbed in over the wall.’
Hector’s spirits sank. He’d built up his hopes, and had begun to believe he would really be sailing west with Maria. Now it was all in ruins. ‘I’ll have to tell the others. Maybe one of them will have another idea,’ he said lamely.
Just then they heard the sound of a distant musket shot. Alarmed for a moment, Hector thought the village was being attacked. Then he realized that Dan and Jezreel must already have started to train the Chamorro.
‘WE’RE TOO LATE. We’ve missed the Spanish vessel,’ he told Ma’pang bitterly as soon as he and Maria arrived back in the village. The Chamorro was standing outside his hut, deep in conversation with Kepuha. A little farther off, Dan was demonstrating to a group of Chamorro men how to knap a gun flint and install it in the doghead of the lock.
‘Did your woman tell you this?’ asked Ma’pang. He glanced at Maria, already surrounded by a cluster of children fascinated with her clothes.
‘She did. We must abandon our plan for an ambush.’
Ma’pang took the shaman by the arm and led him to one side and there was a long, animated exchange between the two men. Finally Ma’pang returned to Hector and said, ‘The council has already made its decision that we should attack the Spanish vessel. Kepuha believes it is not too late.’
Hector was taken aback. ‘But the ship left for Manila three days ago. We’d never catch her.’