Magalhaes stood behind the helm of the ship Nao Trinidad. It was a fine sunny day but any sailor could see just by looking at the clouds that things would soon change. And for the worst it seems...

  A mile away, the sky was a gray slab, he noted. In time, the winds would drag it over them and it was going to rain today. But things must continue the way he planned it. Rain or shine, it had to. A little while later, Miguel, one of the crewmen Magalhaes assigned to repair the ship, approached him.

  "Ya... called for me, captain?" the man said, wiping the sweat on his face.

  "How's the repairs? I hear you've been at it for three days now."

  "To be honest with ya' captain... it's bad. I mean really bad. Every time we shored up a hole another one pops up to replace it."

  "Well, that's what I thought," Magalhaes said as he held the ship's helm. "How about doing something else?"

  "Huh?" Miguel scratched the thin grizzle on his chin. "What d'ya mean, captain?"

  Magalhaes took something out his deep pocket. "I want you to escort Mallaca to the island of Opon to send a message to one of our problems there."

  The captain general rolled the fine white vellum and tied a knot on it. From Miguel's vantage point it made it look like an old scroll– the ones used by the rich back in Espa?a to deliver their magnanimous messages. But for what and for who? He did not know. Magalhaes placed it inside a leather satchel bag. It made Miguel more curious as to how careful he was about it. It must be an important message then. But why would Captain Magalhaes choose him to send it?

  Miguel's brows furrowed in confusion so Magalhaes continued, "I want you on an excursion, if you will." He abruptly pointed at the island five leagues away from their ship. "I want you there!"

  Miguel nodded. "Well, the boys and me are itching to try the native's libations for some time now. I think they'll definitely be up for the job, captain, but–"

  "But what?" Magalhaes said with a stern face.

  Miguel looked away and then down on the ship's deck, trying to phrase the words. "Well, ya're sending us to hostile territory, right? The men won't like that... with self preservation and what not... It'll be hard convincing them. I for one, am not looking forward for it. We hear that there are savages there. We're not scared, mind you. Were just wary, sir."

  The Captain General of their small fleet smiled. "Hmmm. I think you've got a point, Miguel. But I have an offer for you." Magalhaes paused before lowering his voice. "A very nice offer."

  "An offer? Well..."

  "Yes, it's really a simple one. The kind of offer you can't refuse."

  "Well, as long as it's not as dangerous as the first one---"

  "Ah, well... danger's always there. But enough of that. Let's talk about terms.

  Miguel nodded.

  Magalhaes smiled. "Do this, and you leave free when we get home. Refuse, and I'll implicate you as one of the mutineers in Zargosa when we return to Spain."

  "What? That's not fair, sir. I've been loyal to you since I set my foot on this ship. I may have grumbled. I may have whined. But who doesn't? I'm a sailor's sailor, sir. And you know that. Loyal as anyone can be–"

  "Not from what I hear. And I hear everything."

  "Dunno about that but is there's a chance you misheard–"

  "Before we left the mutineers behind one of them told me it was your idea. But you got cold feet the night before, leaving those fools all on their own. He implicated you by name. You know Espa?a would see this as treason... But it's your choice, Miguel. Your choice."

  Miguel's eyes bulged out in surprise. "Anything but that Captain! I still want to see my two daughters back home," Miguel pleaded, hands clasped in supplication.

  "Again, its not my choice but yours, sailor. All you have to do is deliver the letter."

  "Sure sir! I'll do it," Miguel said as he took the satchel. "Okay, I'll do it. Just don't send me in prison. Or–"

  "Good," Magalhaes placed a hand on the poor man's shoulder. "Let's not waste any of our time, then. Tell your cohorts to suit up." The captain general gave Miguel a piece of paper where he listed down the men who would accompany him in their little travail. Then, Magalhaes patted him on the shoulder. "You better be quick, Miguel. They have a message to send to an important man."

  "And where exactly is that man, sir?"

  "In Opon Matan," Magalhaes said. "I'll brief you after you gathered your men. It will be clear by then."

  ***

  Six other men, all clad in armor and armed with cutlasses and muskets went down with Miguel and Mallaca after the Captain General finished his last instructions. All were excited to finally spend some time away from their ship, except Miguel. He shook his head. Telling them of their real task was not needed. He told them instead that they were out to visit one of the tribes and see for themselves how their primitive lives went and perhaps invite them to join along with the other barbarians for a grand feast. They were just delivering invitations. It wasn't the best of lies but he couldn't think of anything else.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  To Miguel's surprise, the rest of the crew believed him. For them, this was a task out of danger. A worthy one that all would do in a heart beat, he almost smiled at the thought. He studied his fellow sailors. They all looked eager. They all knew how important their mission was. But the overwhelming excitement of going away and enjoying the feel of the solid ground under their feet became their main concern. After spending such a long time at sea on their ship, land seemed almost alien to some of them. And the smell of grass was far better compared to the smell of the salty sea. But not for poor Miguel, who knew the peril they were about to enter. When all was ready he stood in front of them and cleared his throat.

  "Just do what I tell ya." Miguel addressed his crew-mates. "Just do it. We don't know what's out there. So, keep a watchful eye. It always pays to be vigilant even with trivial things, okay?"

  Rodigo, one of the veteran crewman, laughed. "Oh, relax my man! You look uneasy."

  Miguel bowed his head. "This is my first time bein' in command and I just want ya'll to do yar best."

  The crew didn't noticed how much more nervous he was. And if they did they didn't equate it to him being put on a hard spot. He nodded as the rest of the crew marched out of the inner decks. They were not the best of the Captain General's men. They were the ones who did the menial tasks in the ship. They were the carpenters, the deck hands, the sickly. Clearly, they were the expendables. And now, they were going to the mouth of the yawning dragon. Ill-prepared and ill at ease. Miguel shook his head, the last part was for him to enjoy alone. They were going to act as an 'envoy' to deliver an invitation to the 'chief' of the barbarians. To an unpredictable man, Miguel thought. And from what he heard from the others who heard about stories from his neighboring chieftains, the poor Datu Zullah, they were going to a merciless bandit. A man named Kalipulako, a pirate and a warlord rolled into one.

  When their boats arrived on shore, Miguel quickly took the lead. "Kalipulako's village is to the south, right?" He turned towards his men. "Then, we'll have to cross that." He pointed to the trees lined with thick tropical flora as light rain began to patter down their heads. Soon after, the ominous thunder followed. Miguel urged them to move as lightning flashed before them. The raindrops fell on their armor and converged together in the surface to form rivulets. While the rest flowed down to the nooks and cranny of their metal shell, soaking down their white shirts.

  Miguel shivered and sighed. He's not going to like this trip. He signaled the orders to move faster And they all began to jog to the treeline at the base of a valley to avoid the rain. They continued on when the rain subsided, jogging for almost half an hour. At middle of their journey, Miguel paced himself to match Mallaca's awkward strides.

  "How're you doing?" he said. Mallaca's presence was good for Miguel. It meant they won't be easily disregarded. After all, he was the translator. And that meant he was important enough.

  Mallaca whipped his head to Miguel's side, lips quivering as weather grew more colder. "Ah, I'm fine, sir." He paused and stuttered before continuing, "and you?"

  "A bit glad that I can finally get my sea legs to rest." He lied. "So what's exactly is in the letter?"

  "Um, don't really know." The slave glanced at the leather satchel beside him.

  Miguel regretted not reading it. But it seems it would too late to do it.

  Mallaca adjusted his loose trousers and began to tighten the braided knot that served as his belt as he ran. "I don't have any idea. I'm just supposed to read and hand them over to the indios' chief. Probably something important."

  Miguel nodded. He couldn't think of anything to add instead he made an excuse before their conversation got more awkward. "I'll take point."

  He hastened his pace and lead the others, punching through the treeline and greenery with buckler and sword in hand. But the little confidence he had almost disappeared when his foot got tangled in the thick weeds.

  Good thing Miguel caught himself before falling face first. Disorientated he stood up and looked around. A smile formed on his lips when he found a clear narrow path that wormed around the ancient acacia trees. A fsr better trail than their current one. But something caught his attention as the other men followed behind him.

  "I think we should wait it out here," Rodigo, the burly crew-hand said, panting behind Miguel. "What do you think?"

  Miguel raised his hands. "Wait... I think I saw someone in the bushes."

  "Huh?" Rodigo paused to look at the bushes and a hanging parrot flew from it and perched on the nearest branch.

  "I don't see anything but a raven?" He faced Miguel. "Hey, I've been observing you since we disembarked from the ship. You seem so tense and jumpy."

  "Ah, really?" Miguel said, thinking of another lie. "Probably just nervous energy... Been hauled up in the ship for a while. Ya know what I mean."

  "So, should we wait it out here?"

  "Sure...sure," he muttered. Miguel turned to the others and addressed the rest of his party. "Let's catch our breath here before we continue. But be on guard." All agreed and the rest of the crew made their way to the opening. Some men settled on the roots and stumps that littered the place. While Miguel and Mallaca remained standing at the loose circle that the others formed.

  "Um, is something bugging you?" Mallaca broke the silence.

  Miguel shook his head. "Nah... just thinking of home. How about ya? Ever get homesick?"

  Mallaca nodded. "Some...sometimes. You can't really avoid it."

  "Heard rumors from the others that the Captain General promised to return ya home when we get to Molloco, to the famed spice island."

  "Really?"

  "Ya don't look too happy?"

  "Ah, it's not really like that." Mallaca's face looked more paler than usual. He shook his head. He didn't want to go home. Why would he? Things were complicated there and- He stopped as he notice Miguel's look towards him. Mallaca smiled. "I still need to do my part of our bargain, though."

  Miguel nodded. Bargain, just like me then, he thought. "Ya should sit down and rest... we probably have a long trek ahead."

  Mallaca nodded and sat down on one of the rough protruding root behind him. "Um. You should too, sir."

  Miguel smiled. "Nah... I'll stand." He studied the place around them. Trees of different sizes rose up the canopy while thick grass and shrub filled the spaces between them. We may need to hack our way through this forest, he thought as he tested his blade's edge. He turned his attention to the crew. The men were joking around at the expense of Rodigo when the first arrow shafts landed. It took awhile for others to realize what had happened. Their moment of inaction would cost them a lot. Another pair of arrows struck Rodigo, one on the neck and the other one went straight through his shoulder. Shock struck them like lightning as the man bled to death, making gurgling sounds. Then, the screams started. The crewmen beside Rodigo tried to utter a warning but not a word escaped from his mouth. Instead, he went down like a puppet whose strings were abruptly cut.

  Miguel went over to check on him. But he couldn't do anything anymore. A short spear punctured the man's side and black blood sprayed from the wound. Miguel staggered away as he realized what was happening. Next thing he did was cry as loud as he could, "Ambush! Take cover... It's a goddamn ambush!"