Sea of Honor (Noble Heart Book 5) Page 8

  Finally he handed it back to Hugh and sighed as he said, “It is a ship, alright. I cannot tell whether it is following us, or not, but I fear it is. We must row faster, harder, and hope that we can escape their notice until dark.” The men doubled their efforts at the oars. Noble rowed along with them, straining at the oars and praying all the while.

  Hugh kept watch as they rowed. “They are getting closer,” he finally said. “Here, Pedro—look. Tell me what you think.”

  It took only a moment for Pedro to peer through the glass and cry out, “Yes! It is El Lobo del Mar! See how she lists to one side! And they are gaining on us quickly! There is no way we can escape them if they know we are here!”

  The other ship was drawing nearer without a doubt. They did not need the spyglass now to see that it was a Spanish galleon, and that, indeed, the tall masts leaned to one side. There was no doubt, either, that they had been spotted. She was headed straight for them without veering. It was El Lobo del Mar, to be sure.

  Pedro was frightened. He, more than any of them, would pay a high price for his escape and betrayal of the pirates. They would not look kindly on him for helping their prisoners to escape, and by now they must have figured out that it was he that had set the fire on El Lobo. He grabbed hold of the oar with John Roby and began to pull, his eyes wide with fear.

  His fear had not escaped Noble’s notice. He, too, was afraid for the Spanish boy, but now he said, “Be strong, Pedro. Our God goes with us and will not leave us or forsake us. He has promised to lead us with His hand, even in the uttermost parts of the sea, and to hold us up in His right hand in the midst of the sea. Let us call upon him for salvation from our enemy right now!”

  As Pedro listened to the cool, sure voice of Sir Noble talking to his Lord, he felt strengthened and encouraged. A peaceful calm came over him. Oh, that he could talk to El Señor Diós like that himself—and that He would answer him as He did Noble!

  The small boat plowed through the water more swiftly than ever, but it was not enough. The galleon, with its three tall masts and many sails fairly flew over the water now in the brisk wind. It drew closer with every minute. There was no longer any doubt that it would catch them in the end.

  Noble looked down at the long wooden sword at his side—the magido that Tanausu had given him. It was the only weapon they had. He had never used it. It felt different than any sword he had ever used before—heavier and awkward. The old guanche had told them that fire-hardened wood was nearly as strong as the iron swords he was more used to, but he had his doubts. How could they defend themselves against the well-armed pirates of El Lobo del Mar with only a single wooden sword? They needed a miracle.

  The galleon was bearing down on them. They could hear the shouts now of the Spanish pirates aboard her as they hurled curses and angry insults at the men in the little fishing boat. Above them all they heard the voice of el Capitán Juan Gascon. He was screaming, raging at them; hurling his wrath at the men who had dared to thwart his evil plans for them. Especially he focused his rage on young Pedro Vasquez, the boy he had bought and paid for two years before and who now had set fire to his ship and committed treason by helping his prisoners to escape. He screamed ugly threats at him and promised all manner of terrible punishments once he laid his hands upon him again.

  Pedro could not look up at the tall ship. He ducked his head and covered it with his arms as if he hoped to escape the torrent of screams and curses that rained down upon him and all of them. There was no hope.

  John looked equally as beaten. All was lost. Dusk was giving way to night and darkness nearly surrounded them, but they could not hope to hide from the galleon now. The pirate ship was too close. They could not outrun her. They could not fight. They would be taken captive again, and if they lived through it, surely they would be sold as slaves and there would be no more opportunities to escape.

  Suddenly a cry from their own boat rang out. Noble was standing and pointing as he shouted, “Look!” Pedro and John looked up. The other men stared. There, looming before them in the gathering shadows was another ship! Beyond it they could see more dark shapes dotted across the sea—a whole fleet of ships! Where had they come from? Who were they? What was happening?

  Noble knew exactly what was happening. It was the miracle he had prayed for! When it looked as if there was no escape, the Lord had led them directly into the arms of rescue! “Quickly, men!” he shouted now. “We must put that ship between us and El Lobo!” A new energy flowed into the men who had been rowing all day. A new energy and a new hope. They did not know if the strange ships were friendly or foes, but God had placed them there and now without hesitation they fled straight toward them.

  The pirates aboard the galleon had spotted the ships, as well. Capitán Gascon began shouting orders and his men scrambled to do his bidding. All thoughts of the little fishing boat were forgotten, for they had seen in the gathering gloom what the escaped prisoners could not see. An English flag flew from the mast of the ship nearest to them. They ran for the cannons.

  There was still some distance to go before they could reach the shelter of the approaching ship. The small boat sped across the water as if it were a chick looking for a hiding place beneath its mother’s wings. Noble shouted encouragement to the others as they all pulled at the oars. Their little sail caught the wind. Surely they would make it now!

  Suddenly a boom rang out, and then another! The cannons on both ships spit out flames and billows of smoke as they shot at one another. Cannonballs fell into the water all around the fishing boat. They were caught in the middle of a sea battle! The sea churned around them and water splashed into the boat as time and again a shot came close to them, too close for comfort. If they did not move out of the crossfire quickly it would only be a matter of time before they took a direct hit.

  Two or three of the other ships had now moved up alongside the first one. They trained their fire upon the Spanish galleon. At last an explosion tore into El Lobo del Mar. She had been hit! The galleon suddenly veered away and made a wide turn. A shout rose from the men in the fishing boat. Their enemy had given up! El Lobo was severely outnumbered and she knew it. They cheered now as the Spanish pirates fled with many of the other ships in close pursuit. Dark shapes surged around the ship closest to them as they went after the galleon.

  The men in the fishing boat drooped over their oars in exhaustion. The chase was over. They did not know what lay ahead, but at least they knew they would not be at the mercy of el Capitán Gascon and his pirates. Noble looked up at the ship before them. It was a brigantine, he could see by the dim outline of her shape. Whoever it was, he hoped they’d be willing to take them aboard and take them at least as far as Tenerife.

  “Ahoy there!” he shouted. “Ahoy! We need help! Can you help us? May we come aboard?”

  There was silence from the brigantine for a moment. Suddenly a voice rang out across the water with the words Noble had never expected in his wildest dreams to hear—“Noble? Sir Noble of Caernarfon? Is that you?”

  ____________

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ____________

  Men of Honor

  He knew that voice! A chill ran up his spine as he cried out in joy, “Michael! Sir Michael! You’re alive!”

  “Well, of course I am! And a fine chase you’ve led me on, my friend!” A lantern flared at the railing of the tall ship and Sir Michael’s face appeared out of the darkness.

  Before Noble could respond Charles shouted, “The Sea Eagle! It’s the Sea Eagle!” The men in the fishing boat cheered wildly. Even John Roby was happy to see the ship on which he had been so miserable. It seemed like a haven of rest now that he had faced captivity and the future as a slave at the hand of the Spanish pirates.

  A rope ladder was quickly let down to the men on the little boat. They sent John Roby up first. His joy at being rescued gave him the strength to climb to the top, but once he reached the railing, many hands pulled him over the edge and he collapsed upon the deck. One
by one the others climbed aboard the Sea Eagle until only Noble and Pedro were left in the boat.

  “Go!” Noble encouraged Pedro with a smile. “All will be well. They will not hurt you.” The Spanish boy started up the ladder and a minute later Noble followed him.

  Sir Michael was waiting for him at the top. He stretched out his hand to Noble and pulled him aboard. The two knights of Caernarfon stood there grinning and clapping each other on the back, each relieved and overjoyed to see that the other was alive and well.

  There were joyful reunions going on all round them. Davy had found his brother Hugh, and Charlie had found his cousin. Friends talked excitedly, asking and answering questions of one another. Suddenly a voice called out, “Who is that?”

  There was silence for a moment as the others turned to look at Davy. He was pointing at Pedro and scowling. “He’s Spanish!” he growled. “What is he doing here?”

  Noble quickly stepped to Pedro’s side. John struggled to his feet and joined them. “This is our friend, Pedro Vasquez,” Noble said. “He was a slave to the pirates. If it were not for Pedro some of us would be dead by now, and none of us would have escaped. He bravely put his own life on the line to save us. We owe him a great debt of gratitude.” Hugh and Will, Charles and the rest of the captives gathered around the Spanish boy.

  Davy stared at Pedro. At last a big grin spread across his face. “Well then, lad, we thank ye! You’re welcome on this ship, to be sure!” He shook Pedro’s hand and gave him a pat on the back. Others pressed close to thank Pedro as well. Soon the Spanish boy was smiling from ear to ear as he realized he was safe and welcome aboard the English ship.

  Noble turned to his friend. “Michael! You don’t know how happy I am to see you alive! John told me you had collapsed.”

  “Well, as you can see, I survived with just a few cuts and gashes to show for my labors.” He held up his bandaged arm. “We have been searching for you ever since.”

  “But what happened?” Noble asked him. “Who were those other ships? How did you find us?”

  “How we found you, I am not quite sure! We were on our way to the Canary Islands in search of the pirates when we met up with the English armada led by Sir Francis Drake. He, too, is a privateer in the employ of Queen Elizabeth. He is headed to La Palma to make war upon Santa Cruz. As one of the major ports in the trade route between Europe and the New World, the city is wealthy beyond measure and the queen wants her share! We crossed paths with the Golden Hind, Captain Drake’s ship, and Davy happened to know one of the men aboard her. His friend told him there were twenty-four ships in the armada, and so we asked permission to sail with them.”

  “But what of Captain Callice?” Noble asked, looking toward the quarterdeck. “Surely he did not agree to come after us! The men were sure he would not, that he had abandoned us.”

  “You are right about that! Callice, as you know, is a hard and cruel man. The only thing he cared about was the damage done to his ship. We left him in Porto, Portugal looking for someone to do the repairs. I am sure he was quite surprised when he came back to the docks only to find his precious Sea Eagle gone!”

  “Where is Pyrs Griffith, then? Did you leave him with the captain in Portugal? Who is captain of the ship now?”

  Sir Michael laughed. “Nay! Pyrs is safely stowed away down below in the hold. He has long ago given up screaming and stomping his feet and now quietly accepts his new place on this ship. I asked Davy to take over as captain of the Sea Eagle—at least for now. I think he plans to drop Pyrs off in Tenerife. Let him find his own way home. Davy plans to leave the Sea Eagle then at a dock somewhere in England. By the time Captain Callice finds it, he and the rest of the men will be long gone. They have no desire to be hung for mutiny or stealing a ship. Let us say they simply borrowed it to go on a rescue mission for their friends!”

  The two knights laughed and moved off, eagerly catching up with one another on all that had happened in the weeks since they had been torn apart. It wasn’t until later in the night, however, when they were back in their cabin that Sir Michael looked at the long wooden sword Noble still wore at his side. “What is that?” he asked. “It is strange-looking. Where did you get it?”

  “It is called a magido,” Noble replied. “It was given to me by an old man in Santa Cruz. I have not had a chance to use it yet.”

  “Well, throw it away!” Sir Michael said. “Here—I found your sword on the deck after I came to.” He handed Noble his own iron sword.

  Noble flicked it around for a moment, admiring its light weight and sharp blade. He removed the wooden sword and started to toss it carelessly on the bunk. Suddenly he stopped. He shook his head. “No,” he said slowly. “I shall practice with it, and learn to use it, but most of all I will keep it as a reminder to me of an old man who worships many gods, but not the one true and living God. Each time I look upon it I will pray for that old man, that he and others like him will someday come to know the Lord.”

  He sat down on the lower bunk, suddenly exhausted after the events of the day and the past weeks. “I do not know how, out of the entire ocean, we found each other in just the nick of time, my friend, but I do know the Lord was leading us both as He promised He would do. Let us thank Him now for this great miracle, for truly it was just that!” The two young knights bowed their heads in prayer and thanksgiving and talked to their Heavenly Father for long into the night before finally falling asleep on the gently rocking ship.

  John and Pedro were standing at the railing in the early morning sunlight when Sir Noble and Sir Michael joined them the next day. They were all smiles as they turned to greet them. John had taken Pedro under his wing the night before and found him a place to sleep near him, and now the two boys were fast friends. Conditions aboard the Sea Eagle had much improved since Captain Callice and his mate Pyrs were no longer in charge. They had enjoyed a good and plentiful breakfast, the first decent meal they had had in a long, long time. They were full, and well-rested, and enjoying the sun and sea spray on their faces, as well as their freedom.

  Tenerife was in front of them. The island shone in the sun. La Palma had been beautiful, too, but a place of dread for Noble and the others, so its beauty had been lost upon them. Now, as they gazed on another of the Canary Islands, it seemed like a paradise, a port in the storm, a place of plenty where they would take on new supplies before heading back home. It would also be the dropping off point for Pyrs Griffith.

  “What next?” Noble asked Sir Michael. “After we leave Tenerife, I mean.”

  “Well, as you recall, I am sure, we still have a task to do for King Stephen before we return to Caernarfon. We must make a stop in Brittany to collect the queen’s aunt.”

  “Brittany?” Pedro said suddenly. “That is across the Bay of Biscay from my home in Bilbao, Spain! Is it possible, señores, that you could make a stop in the port at Bilbao and leave me there, por favor? Mi abuela, my grandmother, that is, lives in Bilbao. At least, I hope she still lives. It has been over two years since last I saw her, and she was very old then. It must have broken her heart when I was kidnapped by the pirates. If she is still alive she will take me in, I am sure.”

  “We will speak to Davy—I mean the captain—about it, Pedro,” Sir Michael said. “I cannot see why he would not be willing to do that, especially since it was you who helped to rescue his brother.”

  Pedro shook his head. “I had a very small part in it, my friend. I have been around Sir Noble long enough now to know that it was El Señor Diós who saved us.” He paused and turned to Noble. “I wish I could talk to Diós the way you do, Señor. I wish I could know for sure that He was with me always like you do. It must be wonderful to call Him Father.”

  John Roby burst in before Noble could speak. “It is wonderful, Pedro! I had no father, but now I do! And I have seen God’s hand at work in our lives! I have seen His miracles! And you can have him for your Heavenly Father, too, Pedro! All you have to do is ask Him to forgive you of your sins through the blood
of His Son, Jesus, and He will! He did it for me!”

  Pedro hung his head in shame. “I have many, many sins, John. I am too great a sinner. God will not want to forgive me. He will not want me for His child.”

  Noble spoke up then. “Oh yes, He does! He loves you so much, Pedro, that He sent His Son to pay the penalty for your sins upon the cross. He wants you to accept His gift of salvation. Will you?”

  “Sí,” Pedro whispered. “I want His salvation.” Right then and there the boy who had once been a slave to pirates bowed his head in prayer and became a child of the King.

  Their stay in Tenerife was brief. They took on fresh food and put off Pyrs, and then sailed north the next day. Noble could not help feeling a bit sorry for the nasty old man. He did not deserve his sympathy, of course, after treating the men on the Sea Eagle so badly, but still he was an old man and had lived most of his life among pirates.

  Davy snorted when he heard Noble say something about it. “Do not waste your pity upon the scoundrel! Pyrs can count himself lucky that we did not dump him off on a deserted isle somewhere to live out the rest of his life alone and helpless! We were far kinder to him than he ever was to us!”

  The Sea Eagle sailed off the shores of Africa, crossed the straight of Gibraltar and then followed the coast around Portugal and to the northern shores of Spain. The weather remained fine and it did not take them long to reach the Bay of Biscay at last. Pedro stood at the rail, eagerly looking for signs of the port of Bilbao.

  Finally one day he called out, “There! There is Bilbao! I am home at last!” Pedro began to weep. It had been years since he had seen his home or family and many hard things had happened to him in those years. Now it seemed like a miracle that he was home again, alive and well and free. “¡Un milagro!” he cried over and over. “¡Es un milagro! It is a miracle! ¡Gracias a Diós!”