Tomas Guerrero

Wow. Good stuff here.

Tomas gritted his teeth. He KNEW the vittles were fresh. He KNEW the water was fresh. HE HAD JUST STOCKED THE DAMN BOAT. "Gracias," was all he could muster. He meant more, to be grateful, but under the circumstances, it was degrading to be offered his own provisions.

'Father' cried the man several times. Esta loco, was all that Tomas could imagine. HIS boat, taken from HIM. Damn, now he was indebted. "Your plan Señor?" asked Tomas. Phonse pulled as best he could to relieve them of the devilish spit. Tomas forced Roberto into his spot. The 'Captain' looked sideways at Tomas. He thrust his hand towards the man. "Tomas Guerrero," he introduced himself.

Tomas stepped out from the shade and into the bright sunlight. He watched as his boat beached itself gently on the spit of sand. "So nice of you to rescue us in MY boat," Tomas called. Phonse had woken Roberto and propped him on his shoulder, the pair now walking towards Tomas.

"Why are they just surrounding us Tomas?" Phonse asked. "Yo no se'," Tomas replied slowly, "to better find a place to beach my boat?"

Tomas and Phonse stood in the shallows watching the dance of the ship that fired upon them and the other retrieving some goods from the bottom. The second ship, now just off to the southeast, had bared her guns but remained to leeward of the pair. Tomas walked back to shore and stood under the sparse shade of a few palms. Another ship had come into view, but looked less interested in the goings-on. "Señor Guerrero, ees tha not your sheep?" Phonse asked and pointing to the small sloop now running downwind and counter to the other three. "Si, Si Phonse. It is." Tomas replied. He held his hand to his forehead to shade out the glaring sunlight. "And only two aboard." "¿Adónde?" Phonse asked as he rubbed his belly. "I don't know, Phonse. Try to rouse Roberto." "Si Señor Guerrero." Phonse waddled back to Roberto lying on the sand still unaware. Tomas Guerrero stood on the small spit of land and leaned against the palm waiting for someone or something to save him.

Tomas sat up quickly when he heard the ominous <thud> once again. The longboat sent from their attackers quickly spun about on her stern and headed back to her ship. "Odd," Tomas said aloud. He could now see four ships, one of which to be his own, now floating in some sort of strange parade, near each other but still keeping their distance. "Odd indeed, Señor Guerrero," Phonse replied. They both stood and walked back into the shallows to watch.

Tomas dragged Roberto through the shallows. Phonse emerged on his hands and knees coughing and spitting up sea water. The Spaniard pulled Roberto against the drain of the waves. Reaching dry sand, he collapsed, Phonse close by. They could see the ship tacking about just off the shoals. "What now El Guerrero?" Phonse asked. Tomas breathed heavily and leaned back on his elbows all the while watching the goings on offshore.

Tomas and his men were mere minutes from land. There was a small cay they could reach with not much distance between them. The Spaniard could hear a loud roar and could only guess that a reef was nearby and it was the surf they heard. Tomas knew that they would slowly be borne down upon. It would take a bit for the crew to remove the debris from their deck, change tack, and raise sail again, let alone reload and fire. He looked at Phonse, he was sweating heavily and very red in the face. Tomas pulled Phonse to the stern as he took Phonse's spot next to Roberto. In time, the men pulled as a pair and made more distance than Phonse had. <Thud>, and then a whistle. A sudden splash just to their starboard brought a tremendous wall of water down on them. <Thud>, and again. "¡Maldita sea!" Those on board had reloaded and were firing much faster than Tomas had anticipated. The vessel had made its way around the flaming hulk and was rapidly approaching them. Water was now exploding all around them. Tomas' hair now had flopped around his shoulders and hid his silver cross. He looked down and bade a small prayer for his men and pulled even harder. Suddenly they felt their boat lift as they had reached one of the swells. They were carried upward and rode one of the crests as far as they could. Roberto had stopped rowing to ride the wave, yet Tomas continued to pull. They spun about and another crest caught them. Phonse clutched onto the gunwale as the boat turned hard to starboard. Tomas could see small puffs of smoke in the ratlines of their pursuer and could only figure that they also now had muskets firing at them. Immediately, another crest surfaced and overturned the boat. Roberto flew over Tomas and banged his head on the oarlock. Tomas dove clear of the longboat, but Phonse was not so lucky. The Spaniard saw their afternoon's labors fall to the reef bottom again. Tomas bobbed up to find Roberto face down and Phonse clutching to piece of the boat. "Phonse!!, Phonse!!" yelled out Tomas. "Si, si, Tomas the boat, the treasure, ees gone." Tomas grabbed Roberto around the shoulders and did his best to get them over the reef. "Phonse, get to shore!"

Tomas could hear the vessel nearing. They moved themselves back to midships. The Spaniard lit the slow match which was peaking out of one of the cannon ports. He closed the port slowly. Tomas pushed the rowboat away from the hulk. Phonse and Roberto laid on the oars with as much might as they could muster, especially since the dinghy was weighing heavily with their collection from the bottom. The sun was now at their backs as they tried to create a shadow of themselves hiding in the openness of the sea. Tomas laid low in the craft watching and hoping the match would not burnitself out before it reached the powder stores. The Spaniard thought that at least it would be harder for the ship to spy them while looking into the sun throught the burned out wreck. Tomas looked into the sun and could not see a safe place to land. He immediately turned when he heard a large fizzle and then suddenly, <<B-O-O-M>>

Tomas had been too keen to watch Roberto and Phonse continue to retrieve the treasures from the bottom. Gold bars, several small heavy wet satchels of gold dust, and one or two smaller chests of jewels were but some of what was beginning to fill the bottom of the dinghy. A sudden <thud> followed by a all splash of water landed just yards from Tomas' small boat. Phonse had been holding onto the gunwale as Roberto swam back to the pair. Tomas still could not see where the shot had originated from. Another <thud> followed by a splash, this one nearer to the vessel they were tethered to. Tomas pulled the men into boat, unhooked the line and rowed slowly around to the stern. He caught eye of a larger ship bearing down on them and firing. Tomas cupped his hands to his mouth and called for the Captain. There was no reply. The ship rode steadily at anchor and no movement nor sound was heard onboard. Tomas then had to make a decision. Get aboard and do what they could to outrun the larger ship, or stay put and do what they could to hide. The Spaniard maneuvered the rowboat to the stern again and watched as they closed in. He called once again to the Captain, but nothing. Tomas could only assume the ship had not seen he and his men. They would not be able to as the dinghy was well between the Captain's ship and their enemy. He immediately thought of a plan. Something they had pulled off before. Yet it was in Potosi's harbor and under guise of night. This was a bit different. Quite a bit different. He and Roberto climbed slowly aboard the leeward side of the ship. Crawling into the hold on their bellies they collected what food and arms they could find. Roberto called to Tomas a reported he could find nothing but rotten bread loaded with weevils. Tomas quickly ran about looking for any guns to use. All that could be found was a single short sword and a grappel. <Thud>, <thud>. Tomas waited and held his hand up to Roberto. A heavy whistling followed by the sound of ratlines popping told the Spaniard that they were rapidly closing in. Tomas told Roberto his plan and they ran about below deck compiling what they could. Crawling into the sunlight again, Tomas lay on his stomach peering through the rails. He could now see several men on the quarterdeck of the ship. He and Roberto scurried over the rail and into the dinghy with Phonse at the oars. He told Phonse of his plan. "Remember Salvación de la Mar in Potosi?" Tomas asked. "Si, si, it nearly killed me Señor Guerrero, how could I forget." Phonse shook his head and stammered, "La, la idea no me enloquece o no me vuelve loco." Tomas simply smiled, "Esta bien, Phonse. Esta bien. You are still with us now my friend, no?" Phonse had been near death more than once with Tomas, but somehow it had always turned out okay. "Si Señor, esta bien, " Phonse agreed begrudgingly. They pulled themselves along the hull of the ship. <Thud> followed by a splash near the hull. <Thud> followed by something ripping across the deck above ther heads. The men tightened their grip. They would have to time this perfectly.

With a splash, the starboard anchor struck the surface of the water with enough force to send heavy spray onto the deck. Phonse jumped as Roberto merely looked to the bow. "Below, Tomas." The Spaniard turned to the voice and breathed out slowly. "So why are we here and they there," Tomas repeated gruffly. "Gold they may find, but not without loss," stated the Captain slowly. "Sharks?" questioned Tomas. "Aye Tomas. Send your men over the rail." Tomas called to his men, "despojar a alguien de algo, to the waist." The captain told Tomas he would be pleased with his find. He hurried above as Roberto and Phonse were in their breeches. He tied a long line of rope to their waist. Roberto looked over the rail and plunged into the clear water. Phonse climbed over the rail and lowered himself slowly into the water. The water was strangely calm of fishes of all sorts. Even the local turtle populace was nowhere to be seen. Tomas tied of the end of the lines to the rail. He called to the captain to lower their ship's dinghy. The captain replied it had been done, but Tomas did not ever see the craft move. Looking over the stern, the dinghy bobbed behind the ship as if it had been there all along. Tomas pulled the dinghy toward the larboard rail where he had tied off Phonse and Roberto. He lowered himself into the small boat and tied off Phonse and Roberto to the stern of the dinghy. The two men remained on the surface until the Spaniard was seated in the craft. Tomas cupped his hands to his mouth, "¡te toca a ti!" Both men in the water inhaled deeply and disappeared underwater.

I sampled some of the new Springbock's that are arriving locally. Sam Adams had theirs out as well as Avery's.

"Not to worry Tomas," rang out the voice from below. Tomas motioned for the glass from Phonse and put it to his eye. One ship already had men in the water and the small sloop taken from him came into full view. Tomas watched as the other vessel cautiously manuevered about. He caught a glint from the quarterdeck and saw himself staring at someone doing just the same to him. But, the figure looked to be that of a woman. "¿por qué?" Tomas said out loud. "What is it Señor?" Tomas never removed the glass from his eye. "A woman, Phonse." "Oh?" replied the portly ne'er-do-well. "And it appears that she is in charge." Phonse and Roberto moved to the rail and shielded the sun to their eyes as they watched the ship move about the others.

Tomas questioned the Captain as to how they were to find the wreck. Several of the crew laughed behind the Captain. "You do not forget where it is you died Tomas. We will be there soon." The game of questions and cryptic answers was getting the better of the Spaniard. Tomas stood up abruptly and walked back onto the deck. Phone and Roberto had finally arisen. "Well, well," said Tomas, un triste espectáculo." "¡Lo siento Señor Guerrero!" Phonse apologized profusely. "I thought," he stammered. He suddenly heard a groan from below as the ship changed direction. He and Roberto both scampered to the rail. Tomas simply shook his head, "Mariquitas." Phonse looked about to see where else he could climb to and noticed the horizon. "Señor Guerrero, are they following us?" The Spaniard turned sharply to make out the figures of those vessels he saw earlier. "Captain Norton, we may have company."

Tomas watched as a man was dropped overboard, and the galleon changed tack. The two ships also altered course showing a third and smaller vessel, Tomas'. The galleon laid on full sail and rapidly moved away from the ships. Tomas could feel his ship slow and then come about. He ran back below deck. Before he could ask, the captain responded, "we are not where the treasure is you seek." Tomas saw several shadows moving and then felt the ship take on a different course. "Does not that vessel hold the chest you seek?" "In due time Tomas."

Tomas ran atop to see what was going on. He stepped over his men and shook his head back and forth. Tomas took out his glass and put it to his eye. He smiled. He knew the galleon. He knew the Captain of the galleon. Tomas had saved his life once outside of Potosi. He ran back below to the Captain. "Estamos cerca de galeón," Tomas quickly said, "I know the Captain." He went back to the deck and watched the horizon. Tomas Guerrero saw his ship windward of the galleon. What he also noticed was the other two vessels to the northeast of their position.

"Stay to leeward and see if they engage," called the Captain back to the bow. "Aye, aye" was replied from a far off nook. Tomas heard several cables being pulled taut and felt a slight change of direction. The Captain whispered to a shadow next to him. Tomas could hear the patter of feet all about him yet still could not make out any discernable shapes. The light peeked through gaps in the gunports but not enough to illuminate below deck.

As the vessel cleared land, Tomas felt the rise and fall of the waves beneath him and a full breath of wind behind him. He opened a gun port to his starboard and heard the groan of many men. He luffed it off and peered out the hole. They were making a good pace but heading in the direction opposite of his map. "Your map Tomas, let me see it," asked the Captain. Tomas returned to his seat and removed the folded parchment from his pocket slowly. He placed one end under the lantern and another under the bottle. "No, no, this is not the place," spoke the Captain. "This map, it was found where Tomas?" "In the Spanish territories, just west of where we are." "You must mean, here." Tomas gasped silently as a long bony finger traced their destination along the map. He had many, many bookkeepers, soldiers, captains, pirates and privateers and spies within his payroll, but never the undead. The Captain dragged the finger to where Tomas and Phonse had dug up the chest. "Si, Si, that is where we were," Tomas agreed. The Captain turned to a boy behind him and whispered. Tomas sipped long from the bottle. "¿Qué quieres?," Tomas asked. "Empreso libre?" The Captain laughed, "Nothing is free Tomas." "What do you want from me?", the Spaniard asked. "Tomas, a fortnight we have not breathed the air of you. In the sun we cannot be, else we rot." Tomas leaned in with his elbows on his knees. "¿De verdad?," Tomas merely added. "Yes Tomas, we need water." Tomas stood and kicked several hogsheads in the light. "There is water all around you, Captain," Tomas said bluntly. "¿Cómo te llamas?" Tomas asked angrily. "My apologies Tomas. I am ahead of myself. My name is Benjamin Norton. I am Captain of H.M.S. Revenge. My lieutenant was killed in our battle with the Galleon, but Elisha Luther has since taken duties as he was master. Nearly the entire crew was killed before the Galleon overtook us. I only have these men left," Captain Norton appeared to wave his arm into shadows but when the shadows moved and grunted, Tomas knew they were there. "To answer your question afore, the water, Tomas, is not the water of drink. It does not merely slake the thirst. To the living it will help mend ailments without the help of native salves," Benjamin Norton paused. "To the dead, it will bring air into our lungs." Tomas had heard stories of this before. Mostly from rum-soaked old men sitting around great hearths. But now, here, he was in the hold with a crew of the damned. Was it true? Captain Norton continued to explain the cause of their state. Several slaves were held with the crew below decks in the Altanero. One slave chanted for three days prior to the storm. The waves grew to match the winds. As the storm whipped into a frenzy, the slave cursed the men of tan skin to forever haunt the sea and to never see the light of day. Tomas had many questions to ask. A voice from the bow suddenly called to the men: "Captain, a galleon had come into sight as well as two other vessels."

Tomas sipped from the bottle before him warily. Groans and murmurs accompanied the creaks of the ship underway. A loud <snap> from the sails filling instantly was heard atop the deck. "Your map, Señor," said the man he assumed to be captain, "is not correct." Tomas clutched at the parchment folded and tucked into his pocket. The men behind the shadows laughed. "Several leagues we were from there when we went down." El Guerrero had many questions. He pulled again from the bottle. Tomas felt the ship gaining speed. Phonse and Roberto were dragged onto the berth deck by their collars, still unconscious. "How, why, what, were you doing aboard El Altañero when she wrecked?" The story of the wreck reaching Tomas' ears told him nothing of a British crew. The captain and his men begin to explain to Tomas how a largely British crew found themselves aboard a Spanish Galleon several months earlier.

Tomas quickly grabbed his kerchief as the smell hit him. He nearly vomited as he reached below deck. Several lanterns were lit, but cast shadows against nothing. He could hear movement but saw nothing. An eerie chatter followed his footsteps. Tomas slowly reached for his dagger. "We are not here to harm," spoke the voice again. 'We?', Tomas said to himself. "The parchment you have found, it shall show you the way hence." Tomas heard a groan from behind he voice. A lantern, removed from the wall was sat on a barrel in front of him. A face suddenly appeared in the shaded light. Tomas gasped. Several other faces began to emerge from the dark. Hollow sockets where eyes should be peered at him. El Guerrero took a slight step backwards. He caught the overhanging beam as he nearly fell over a burlap sack. Phonse and Roberto heard the commotion and took several steps down the stairs. Tomas looked at his men. Roberto saw the faces, shrieked and ran atop, catching his forehead and knocking himself to the deck. Phonse followed and tripped over Roberto and soon found himself in the same spot. Tomas suddenly felt movement below his feet. He drew his sword and pointed it at the man he assumed to be Captain. "Me quedaré donde estoy." A deep guttural laugh came from those behind the Captain. "Señor Guerrero," said the Captain softly, "the wreck you seek, we know of its whereabouts." Tomas lowered his sword. A chair was pushed gently to behind Tomas' legs. "Please, sit". Tomas was now hesitant to discuss any more. "Señor Guerrero, it is our ship you seek."

Tomas and the men reached the docks soon after. They arrived at a sloop, unimpressed at its slack lines, tattered sails and rotting hull. Phonse looked at Roberto who placed his foot atop the railing. Tomas peered through the narrow slits his eyes had become. He knew Catalina would not have set him wrong, but was this the right ship? Roberto looked fore and aft for any signs of life. Phonse nervously looked around as someone should be about the dock in this midday. "¿Oigo?" Tomas called. He cupped his hands to his mouth, and louder this time, "¿OIGO?". "Men not you seek, but their foils," called a voice from the hold. "The Relentless and the Rakehell are upon them both." Tomas furrowed his brow. He was immediately confused, bewildered, and a touch startled. El Guerrero at once stepped aboard the ship. "Show yourself," he commanded. He drew his sword at pointed it in the direction of the voice. Roberto drew his pistol, as did Phonse. "Need here is naught for blade and powder," the voice spoke again, "that time draws nigh. Below you shall come." Tomas looked to Phonse, who hook his head back and forth. A glance to Roberto did the same. Tomas replaced his sword and breathed out slowly. He looked down the dock and saw no one. Apprehensive, he stepped into the dark.

As they arrived at the wharf, something strange caught Tomas' eye. He squinted in the bright sunlight to make out what he thought he saw on the opposite shore. At the water's edge he knew, no, he swore he saw the undead. Several men in tattered clothes and drawing weapons, looking square at the Spaniard. "Ph-phonse," Tomas stammered, "¿qué es eso?" He pointed to the reef opposite them. Phonse put his eyes above his eyes to shield the sunlight. He looked across the narrow harbor. Phonse saw a dinghy wrecked upon the rocks with it's wood bleached from baking in the sun's rays. "Es a longboat, El Guerrero. Quizá armas, but not likely. She has been picked clean." Phonse looked back to Roberto who shrugged his shoulders and continued to the dock. Tomas continued staring at the natural jetty waiting for some movement. It never came. "¿Su balandro, El Guerrero?" Phonse inquired about the sloop from Catalina. "Si, Si," said Tomas, "Come."

With names in hand, Tomas kissed Catalina goodbye. He went back through the bodega to collect Phonse and Roberto. They made their way Northwest towards the docks to find the men and ship Catalina spoke of. As they made way, Roberto told Tomas of his ship abruptly turning sail and heading back to sea. Tomas berated the man loudly for not finding him. But, he thought to himself, what good would it have done. He was without a ship and unable to pursue the pirates. Hopefully, with Catalina's help, he would find the men and a ship to bring his ship back. As they rounded the point toward the lagoon, Phonse poked Tomas in the back and pointed out to sea. "Aqui." "Si," said Tomas. "We will get her back."

Tomas swung the doors of the tiny beachfront bodega open. A slender young woman had just deposited a small bottle onto the nearest table when she spun about. "Tomas?" she gasped. "Si Catalina, mi amor," Tomas smiled. "¿Cómo estás?" Catalina smiled and gave Tomas hug and kissed him. She drug him to a table and grabbed the bottle from the previous table and offered it to Tomas. They caught up quickly. Roberto remained outside and Phonse at the door. She waved to Phonse; he blushed and waved back quickly. Tomas explained to her his situation and she placed her chin in her palms and listened intently. He showed her the map of the wreck and promised her a piece of the treasure should she be able to help out the trio. "Si, but of course El Guerrero. Come with me." She walked to the back of the small building and Tomas followed. He motioned for Phonse to stay as he would return.