6.
The trail taken by Bárbara Morales and Diego de Arana as they fled the town of San Sebastián de La Gomera followed one of the deep ravines, or barrancos, that led a steeply torturous course into the mountainous terrain surrounding the island’s central peak ... cloud and mist shrouded, Alto de Garajonay.
Their progress was slowed by the steepness of the rock-strewn path and by the fact that Bárbara was barefoot. In addition there was the fact that the leg iron attached to her ankle, and its trailing broken chain which kept catching on rocks and roots, made walking difficult for her, and soon had her winded, footsore and complaining.
“We must move faster!” admonished Diego when she abruptly sat herself down on the side of the path to inspect a bloody cut on the sole of her left foot. “Listen, Bárbara! Do you hear the bells tolling in the town below? It means the alarm has been raised. They’ll be coming after us soon!”
“Move faster? Easy for you to say, Diego. You’re the one wearing shoes.”
“Give me your hands!”
“Why?”
“Just do it!”
Reaching down he grasped her by her outstretched wrists, and raised her to her feet. And then, sliding his hands down her arms and sides to her waist he hoisted her into the air and dumped her torso, head first, over his broad shoulder.
“Put me down!” she cried, legs kicking and fists pounding on his lower back.
Ignoring her protests, he set off up the trail with her draped over his shoulder, his arm firmly wrapped around her bare ass ... the heavy woolen seaman’s tunic she was wearing having fallen and bunched around her chest.
Meanwhile, down in the town Cristobal Colon and the Spanish governor were meeting outside the Torre del Conde. The town by then had been thoroughly searched without success, and the two leaders had come together to coordinate pursuit of the fugitives into the back country.
Before long men from both the garrison and Colon’s ships had formed search parties and were fanning out to comb the barrancos. Diego and Bárbara could already hear their shouts as they gave chase and steadily closed on their slower moving prey.
“They’re gaining on us. We need to hide somewhere, Diego,” she called from behind his back.
“Not here. Our only chance is to make it to the rain forest tree line higher up. The scrub down here isn’t dense enough for concealment,” he replied through gritted teeth as he tried to pick up the pace.
“I thought you promised me they’d never find us?”
“I may have been wrong. Listen! Sounds as though we’ve been spotted.”
“Put me down then, Diego! I’ll give myself up. Save yourself!”
“I won’t.”
“Don’t be foolish. Leave me!”
“No, Bárbara! We’ll face this together,” he announced with resignation, stopping to set her down.
“I’m so sorry, Diego,” she cried, modestly pulling her raised tunic down into place before turning to face the colorfully pantaloon-uniformed soldiers approaching and encircling them with pikes leveled.
************
“I’m here to collect the fugitives. I understand they were captured this afternoon and brought here,” declared Cristobal Colon to the uniformed guard at the entrance to the Torre del Conde. Behind Colon stood his two constant companions, Juan de la Cosa and Rodrigo de Escobedo, and an escort of four armed seaman.
“Word travels fast ...” grunted the guard. “Wait here.”
Left waiting outdoors, under darkening clouds and a steady drizzle, Colon paced irritably back and forth, fuming about the lack of respect just afforded by a lowly provincial to he ... he, who was destined to hold the esteemed title, Admiral of the Ocean Sea! Such insolence! The governor would hear about this!
Returning, the guard admitted Colon and his entourage, but told them they must remain in the vestibule until the governor could see them. And there they cooled their heels for what seemed an interminable time, until at last the governor appeared.
“Sorry to have kept you waiting, Captain Colon,” he said, without bowing or offering any gesture of respect.
“I’m here to collect the fugitives. I understand they were captured this afternoon and brought here,” replied Colon, repeating what he had originally said to the guard.
“Ah Yes, but not so fast,” said the governor, holding up both hands, palms out. “As it happened, the man and woman were captured by my men, not yours.”
“But Diego de Arana is a member of my crew, and Bárbara Morales is ... um ... well ... mine too!”
“Ah, but we established when we conferred this morning, did we not, that the man and woman are fugitives? And these two fugitives have been apprehended on the run by my men, not yours, within the bounds of my jurisdiction, not yours ... is that not true?”
“Well, yes but ...”
“Then under the law, as detained fugitives they must be questioned, prosecuted and punished, if found guilty, right here in San Sebastián de La Gomera. Now if you wish to see them ... I will accede to taking you to them, my dear Colon. But understand that you cannot take them away with you, nor can you interfere in the proceedings. My people are, in fact, busy right now preparing to extract confessions of guilt from them. And I have no doubt the man and woman will be persuaded to talk. Should they admit to leaving your ship without permission and in possession of stolen property, as you have charged, they will be appropriately and publicly punished here, on the town square, for their misdeeds. Now, do you wish to accompany me to where they are being held?”
“Alright, alright ... lead on, you win for now, but you have not heard the end of this, my dear misguided governor. I intend to take this matter up on the morrow with my good friend and powerful patron, Beatriz de Babadilla y Ossario, the Countess of La Gomera and widow of Hernán Peraza the Younger. Then we shall see!”
A hint of uncertainty flitted across the governor’s face, but he swiftly recovered and said only, “follow me.”
With Cristobal Colon and his retinue trailing behind, he led them across the tower’s central court, through an open doorway on the far side, and down a spiral staircase leading to the subterranean bowels of the great fortress, where they were admitted to a chamber guarded by two soldiers and eerily lit by flickering torches ensconced along the walls.
The air in the chamber was warm due to a pair of braziers in the center of the space which gave off heat, as well as the acrid smell of hot glowing embers. Several hooded men milled around ... and there ... shackled spread-eagled and side-by-side against the far wall were Bárbara Morales and Diego de Arana.
She had been stripped naked. She seemed resigned ... forlorn ... head bowed ... thin-lipped ... eyes closed ... perhaps a bit apprehensive ... her round, upturned breasts gently rising and falling with each breath.
He was bare chested ... and in contrast to her ... visibly perturbed ... nostrils flared, eyes flashing ... muscles rippling ... tugging furiously at and rattling his shackles ... cursing his captors.
“Please have a seat,” said the governor amiably to Colon and his people ... gesturing with a slight bow to a low wooden bench set along a side wall. “I believe we are about ready to begin.”
TO BE CONTINUED
(getting bad puns in before @phlebas wakes up)
Welts, salt water and maybe sharks - explosive mixture.
variation
