The captain assumed command and we all jumped-to. The captured brigands were loaded on longboats and sent ashore, under guard. I and me crew repositioned our ship to enable offloading from the galleon. Then began the task of scouring the galleon clean of all treasures, weapons and useful implements. Simultaneously, the process of identifying and disposing of carcasses was performed. Our own were returned to the island for burial. The dead brigands and Spaniards were disposed of less ceremoniously. Let me tell you, the quantity and quality of treasure on that ship was the greatest I'd ever seen. And from the count of Spanish dead, the captain deduced they were sailing with a considerably reduced complement of military–no doubt, to allow for more cargo. This was why they were so quickly overpowered by the brigands.
We continued past nightfall and through all the next day, unloading and transporting the contents of that galleon; such was the wealth that befell us. That done, she was burned to the waterline, lest her remains attract more unwanted guests.
Back ashore on the third day, our labours completed, we gathered at the settlement to divide the spoils, as was our custom. Such a stockpile of riches assembled at one place, you've never seen in your life! And so much of it gold, glistening in the sunlight so brightly you could not rest your eyes on it for long.
All me mates and the landlocked were in high spirits, joking and cavorting and near giddy over the prospects of such wealth. We waited anxiously, and with some impatience, for the captain's arrival; for it was his privilege to divvy the loot into portions, assigned for each member of our community. And it was his responsibility to ensure that each got an equal share. Left to our own devices, we'd have reduced that mountain of profuse abundance to naught in a matter of minutes: scrambling and fighting, each carrying away what he could rest from the others.
'Course this would not be fair to those weaker or slower. But we were weak and lowly mortals, standing afore the seductive treasures of a kingdom. This was exactly the kind of temptation that brought good and reasonable men to fight and kill each other. And this was why we needs a captain!
The only "guard" of these riches–and the only one who could guard without confrontation–was Annalea. Her pleasing countenance and calming tone, when she spake of the practicality of self-restraint, managed to keep the hounds at bay. The only near problem was caused by Sophie, who took her opportunity when some of me overanxious mates caused a small row over who deserved possession of a certain gilded and bejeweled crucifix. This "discussion" distracted the crowd long enough for Sophie to claim herself an unwarranted prize.
That was one of them moments which showed me the astuteness of Annalea: that quality of individualism that set her apart from the rest, combined with the skills of command which put me so in mind of the captain. While the crowd watched the row, Annalea watched the crowd. Sophie's acquisition went not unobserved.
And, you see, that's what I means about those special qualities of a leader: that ability to place yourself above the mind and deed of the mob–to take the overview, and see things at large. That was within the captain–and that was within Annalea. For a bloke like me–who'd like to fancy hisself a leader of men–it was natural to attend to the detail. I'd always do as I did that day: jump immediately into the dispute and defuse the powder keg. But that's not the action of a true leader. Such a leader knows his people. He knows the troublemakers, and their capacity for mayhem. And he knows his lieutenants, and their capacity to control the others. With a watchful eye to this, a true leader is free to look beyond the particular. And that is the captain. And that is Annalea.
Annalea approached Sophie from behind. Sophie had her back to the crowd. She was a bit hunched over, struggling to put on a rather cumbersome necklace while simultaneously attempting to conceal the bulk of its ornamentation beneath her blouse. Annalea put her hands upon Sophie's neck, assisting her in adjusting her bobbles, and startling her in the process. But, true to her type, Sophie was not long thrown off her game. She came right back with a defiant look, as if she was the victim of some spurious slander.
I can imagine the lie sitting on her lips, "'Tis mine! From me mother I've had it! I've always had it!"
But the lie was never uttered. Annalea did not wait for the lie. Annalea had no use for the lie.
Quietly, but not softly, she spake to Sophie. Annalea's hands were upon Sophie's shoulders. She held her still, glared into her eyes and said to her, "'Tis the loveliest thing I've ever seen upon you, Sophie. It so suits you. I am amazed I've never noticed it on you before. So impressed am I, that I shall say to the crowd what I've now said to you."
Having said this, and no more, Annalea continued to hold Sophie's shoulders–and Sophie's attention with her stare–as if to punctuate her statement. After a moment, Annalea released her grip from Sophie, turned away from her, and walked toward the crowd. As if timed for her arrival, the dispute amongst me mates was ended and camaraderie was restored.
Annalea turned 'round and saw that pretentious bobble of a necklace replaced prominently on that glittering tower of wealth. Annalea spake loud, that all might hear her. "Friends, I've noticed that unusual neckpiece that stands out from the rest. And when this wealth is shared, I would see that adorn no other but our dear Sophie, if none here object."
When I looked over and saw the tears gush from Sophie's eyes–in seeming contradiction to the smile bursting on her face–I realized there was more going on than met our eyes and ears. And when I finally learned the whole of it, it confirmed me belief. Annalea not only knows how to be a leader, she deserves to be a leader.
"Do you choose to usurp me position, young mistress?" the captain spake to Annalea, thus announcing his arrival. "Am I so tardy that it was necessary to elect a new captain in me absence?"
Annalea smiled at the captain. "'Tis not mutiny you find here, dear sir, but anticipation. None here would usurp your authority. Indeed, all anxiously await your prerogative."
"Then all gather about me and I shall exercise that prerogative!" he exclaimed to the crowd. "That is, if you can all part your eyes from this tower of royal trinkets and place them upon me!"
We all came silent and attended the captain.
"Aye, 'tis a king's ransom we behold–and are holding," he said. Then he waited 'til our cheers quieted, again. Decorum restored, he continued. "I believe you all know the high regard and abiding respect I bear for each and every one of you. And yet it must seem the greatest disrespect I've displayed in absenting meself for so long and delaying the performance of that singular duty which has you so excited–and, rightly, impatient. But I can assure you, dear friends, it was no disrespect for you which delayed me. 'Twas the weighty considerations of your best interests that prevented me sooner arrival. I had cause to ponder the dimensions of opportunity presented to us by possession of this golden hoard. And it is me awesome responsibility to ensure we make the most of our good fortune and not squander our opportunity."
The common look of excitement–so recently on every face–was now replaced with one of puzzlement. What the hell was he talking about? All that was needed was to sift and sort and assign our prizes. Why must the captain always make the simplest things so complex? 'Course if I'd been watching the signs, remained on the tack, stayed the course–if I'd just been paying attention, I'd've foreseen where the captain was going: the fulfillment of our Master Plan.
To an audience of perplexed faces, the captain continued. "Were I to divide this mountain, today, and hand each of you a sizeable portion, what would you do with it? You cannot readily spend it. Would you adorn yourselves with gold, and decorate your quarters in it? And what would you do with the rest of it? Bury it on the grounds?
"Dear friends, 'tis time to be practical. Those among you who've been part of this community since our earliest days, have oft' heard me speak of our object. For those who are newer among us, I will later recapitulate. But suffice it, for now, to say that our object has always been to achieve t
he wealth and means to allow every member of our band to return to the civilized world, independent and secure from want–and secure from the minions of law. The wealth, we now possess. And the means can be developed. Surely, all can see this is the best opportunity we shall ever have to achieve our object."
From many voices, came similar words. "Leave Nemusmar?"
And the captain answered them truly ('though did seem to me, he couched his real concerns, a tad, in his response). "Leave Nemusmar, aye! Leave Nemusmar so that all of us may fulfill our own, particular destinies. Be not dismayed! This shall not occur tomorrow, or the next day; nor is it likely in the next year. This thing shall require the most rigorous efforts toward perfect planning, and shall involve each of you. Such shall be necessary to ascertain the precise needs and desires of each man and woman, and to map a certain course for each individual."
Higgins spake out loudly–above the din of the crowd. "How long will this take, Cap'n?"
To which he replied, "Every bit as long as it needs to! Every detail–every needed activity–shall be set and confirmed for each one of you, afore we consider to bid farewell to this paradise which so long has sheltered us. When we finally depart, it shall be with the knowledge that we're not leaving home–we're going home! And to a better life than we've yet known!"
A resounding chorus of huzzahs drowned the next several words the captain uttered; and he paused long before repeating them. "I feel we have agreement. Then let me dispense with the duties at hand. I suggest that each of you be apportioned a few trinkets off this mound, as souvenirs of our great adventure. The rest we shall sequester in the large vault recently constructed beneath me quarters. There it shall be kept together, and kept safer than were it scattered about in so many households. And–in good time–as each of you embarks on your new life, you shall carry your wealth away with you."
Sophie stepped from the crowd, pleading with the captain, "Please, sir, me neckpiece.... I means that neckpiece.... Annalea... she... I...."
This interminable babble was stifled by the captain's laughter, which quickly infected the rest of us, producing a river of laughter which rippled through our ranks. Mam' Tiére spake the reason for our humour. "Dat woman don' hear nothin' 'cept dose voices talkin' in her own head!"
But the captain set this aside, preferring his own chiding response. "Ah, indeed," he chortled, "Captain Annalea: your new leader. She did make a 'proclamation,' did she not? Well, compose yourself, Sophie. As I said afore, each shall leave here with a trophy of this venture. And this is for you!" He grasped the gaudy bauble from the stack and tossed it into Sophie's eager hands.
The rest of that day lumbered on: sort of like a dazed turtle trying to find its pond. Instinct told you that your destination was out there somewheres–that your rest would come–but where and when you'd find it you could not foresee. Our community having, once again, given its full support to the captain's wisdom, all that remained was to give each member a token and process and secure the rest. As if that were a small thing!
Imagine, if you could, transferring one bank of the Thames to the other bank–one shovelful at a time. Meaningless drudgery! Were I captain, I'd have parcelled out that treasure, made each man responsible for what he drug away, and be done with it! But I am no captain. For certain, I gives orders. But 'tis always based on the direction set by another. And, in this matter, his direction was that this colossal golden heap be inventoried, parcelled by individual, packed in empty casks, carted to his quarters and stored in his vault.
This was no work for a seaman; this was the lot of some lowly cleric! Oh, the captain had his clerics–his usual clerics. This much I could foretell. So, 'twas no surprise when he conscripted Annalea, Leona, Higgins and (of course) meself for this onerous task. Orke was assigned to press men into service for loading and carting and unloading and storing. And, of course, "Cleric" Crockett had to accompany each and every transport, to verify the inventory as it was stored in the vault. And–to avoid the rather cumbersome and time-consuming task of revealing and unlocking the vault with each delivery–it became necessary for Orke, as the most trustworthy, to remain with the storage, as guard. So I had added duty to oversee the workers, en route.
Not that me mates aren't trustworthy! I'd have trusted each and every one of them with me life and me fortune (mayhaps even me woman–mayhaps not). But our minds work very similar. 'Twould be easy for meself–reminiscing on this most recent adventure–to consider that I'd certainly done more than some others had done: risked more than some others had risked. Do I not deserve a few extra trinkets to compensate me suffering and reward me bravery? Why, of course I do! What's a few extra trinkets? Never be missed. And if any of me mates said he thought differently, I might nominate him for sainthood–or, more properly, suspect him a liar.
So the day wore on. And this dazed, old turtle poked along, caring for nothing but his well deserved rest–should this journey ever end. As to the captain: oh aye, he performed his duty. 'Twas a sight to behold: him dressed in his best uniform, wearing his finest accoutrements, standing all afternoon 'neath a shade tree, parcelling out trophies to each member, accompanied by a few pompous words (as if bestowing knighthoods). This "drudgerous" routine he broke, with liberal sips of his favourite wine.
Ah well, the privileges of rank are surely deserved. I should know. It was me standing as the captain's right hand–the ranking that honour bestowed–that afforded me the privilege of attending to every odd job and every ancillary task (be it mundane or urgent and deadly) that captured the captain's whimsy. I half expected he'd slip one day, when needing "Mr. Crockett," and call for "Mr. Lackey!"
Finally. Finally–in the dead of the night–the last of that burdensome treasure was planted in that godforsaken vault. All was locked and secured and we were done with it. I'd seen and handled and accounted and lugged and been burdened by so much gold as to desire never to see or touch this troublesome metal again. Orke and I had gathered our comrades and returned to the site where our labours began.
As we walked, I pondered the thoughts that accompanied me. I remembered, as a lad, being awe-struck at me first observation of a genuine object of gold. I remembered feeling a surge of desire for such an object: an actual lusting that caused a tingle in me body. And this at an age younger than me first "tingling" for a lass!
I thought of a companion from home. Me best mate of me youth. And how he, as a young lad taking his first sip of spirits, fell insanely in love with that infectious beverage. While still a young lad, he'd indulged this romance to a point where the sight and smell of his paramour physically sickened him. He swore to me his intentions to break off the relationship and never more keep company with this seductive, but evil, mistress. Within a year, however, "she'd" consumed him. 'Twas neither a painless nor an honourable passing.
So now I thought, "As I've come to disdain me 'mistress,' will I be able to remove meself and avoid her seductive charms? Or is it too late? Will the powerful desire I've so long felt for her draw me back, to be unwittingly consumed by me own uncontrollable lust?"
Atop the mound that foreshadows the settlement, waited our friends: Annalea, Higgins and Leona. Our only true friends–for they had waited for us. Down below, in the heart of the settlement, flickered the fires and torches lighting the revelers who yet remained at the feast celebrating this past day's events. I would for me quarters, but Annalea insisted we join the revelers, and Orke threatened to carry me down bodily, should I resist the invitation. How could I resist?
This banquet had been ongoing since midafternoon, and most of our community had long since departed from it. Oh, there were a score or more of me mates lying about in grog-induced slumber; and another dozen or so, still on their feet, waited to greet us. But what purpose could our attendance serve, at this late hour?
The captain stepped forward to greet us. His presence bewildered me. I'd suspected by now he'd have long been at his quart
ers, slumbering contentedly over his cellarful of gold. I was equally taken aback to hear the accolades he lavished upon us: commending our conscientious, self-sacrificing attendance to duty, for the benefit of the community. Reena, at the head of a small company of wenches, brought us freshly cooked meats and a variety of succulent fruits. Cook served us drinks, and we sat at the long table eagerly anticipating our feast–while the captain made one of his long-winded toasts (no doubt inspired by the consumption of a barrelful of wine), paying tribute to our tireless efforts.
As he finished, I filled me maw with savoury mutton. As he continued, I choked it down. Afore we ate, we were to be given our trophies. I was mostly annoyed. I'd but moments ago sworn off any association with that accursed metal. But I'd not sworn off food. I loved food. I needed food. Now!
Orke's annoying hand upon me arm yanked me away from me new, true love, to stand with the rest, afore the captain. With some pomposity–'though, I admit, moreso with sincerity–the captain awarded us our remembrances of this occasion. I have no memory of the gilded bobbles presented to Higgins and Leona, but Annalea's prize provides a treasured memory of a glowing vision. 'Twas a sort of regal tiara, which when placed upon her, adorned her beauty, gracing her golden hair and crowning her angelic face.
Now with Orke, I knew his prize afore it was awarded. 'Twas always of the same kind. Orke had no use for trinkets, bobbles or any such fineries. Fact of the matter, he was one of the few unadorned freebooters I'd ever met. He disdained the wearing of jewelry, save for his single earring. It looked to be of rather inferior metal; but for Orke it was more a badge than an ornament.
And so, none were surprised when the captain handed him his usual allotment: a purse of gold coins. Yet we all were moved when the captain presented Orke with the pistol and cutlass once boldly brandished by that heroic brigand captain. Regardless the champion who wins it, such trophies would normally pass from the defeated captain to the captain of the victors. To our captain, this was rightfully Orke's property.
The captain embraced Orke, as an elder brother does to demonstrate his pride in a younger brother. Then he approached me. "Mister Crockett! Me dear Mr. Crockett. I am mindful of so much that I owe to you, that I could not–would not–presume to select a token appropriate to reward you. At your pleasure, Crockett, select any and all treasures that suit your fancy, from the vault."
While I was truly moved by the sentiment displayed, I advised the captain I'd lost me taste for the whore metal. His look of incredulity made me wonder if he thought me now a babbling idiot. But whatever he was thinking he put aside without comment.
Undoing his scabbard, he said to me, "This is the trophy I would present to you, Crockett," and put in me hands his favourite sword: the very sword he had worn throughout his days in the King's service.
I felt me spirit revitalized! I felt me carcass had been lifted from the grave, and me soul redeemed from limbo. I felt truly significant. I felt truly hungry. I felt truly exhausted. In the glow of the cookfire and the warmth of companionship, I ate and drank me fill, and fell to sleep on the long table.
Chapter XI
Spaniards in the Larder