Episode #5: The Pauper's Throne

[In the last episode MCoG, Esteban and his friends met a Spanish captain and his crew, who had just arrived at the island in time to stop a hazardous game. These invaders proved to be entrepreneurs, kidnapping Zia and Tao after mistaking them for natives. When Esteban's initial attempt to rescue them failed, he joined the crew, in hopes of avoiding separation.]

Esteban had expected to be dwarfed and surrounded by his towering peers, but once he stepped onto the Sanmartin he was surprised to find that they were "only" twice his size, made of muscle, perfectly human. He kneeled awkwardly on a coil of rope as the sailors prayed, not only oblivious to the foreigners but seemingly strengthened by their presence. Even if he had not had the strange experiences of meeting the gods of the Incas up close, Esteban had grown weary, ever since the loss of the Condor. Still, he clasped his hands together as he'd done with Father Rodriguez and whispered a wish that the sun would smile upon them all once more -- to save the ship, which was what the sailors would expect of Esteban were the storm to arise. Then the session was over, and the sailors fell to their duties. Esteban pushed himself up, feeling the sturdy upwards push of the vessel, feeling almost elated for some reason. He stood for a few moments, dumbfounded; a moment later he found himself skittering back to avoid a tanned man, quite tanned in fact. His foot bumped up against the rope, he staggered in the other direction, spun and found himself running towards a mast, upon which he caught himself.

Winded, he looked around. No one had been particularly bothered, and he wondered what he was supposed to do. He thought about the Captain's dual nature, and that's when it hit him. Digging his unshod feet painfully into the rough wood floor, feeling it compress sharply, he sprinted off.

~~~

Esteban entered the cabin somewhat of a wreck -- a well-groomed wreck, but a wreck nonetheless, who had been keeping one step in front of the scrawny carpenter and his leering eye. Many messages had gone about the ship thanks to Esteban, and through the day his attitude had changed from one of mute submissiveness to what some would call a cheer and what others would call a near-cockiness. In reality, Esteban was merely losing track of how he was supposed to act -- he had gotten into the game, and had left all emotion behind. Zia and Tao would have to wait, wait until nightfall. Nothing could perturb him, delay him from the completion of his petty tasks.

Except for the carpenter. Something caused Esteban to creep a little more quietly when he saw that one; he was doleful, stubbled, and almost squat, and his gaze, though sharp and piercing, was that of a man who had once fought for life and now was perennially bored. On one of the earlier trips through the ship, Esteban had bumped into a suspicious and sweating Hector. Hector showed the greatest formal apologetic nature but otherwise seemed unlikely to deviate even if he walked over Esteban. Esteban had stepped aside, let the portly one through, and that was when Esteban's eye had fallen on the carpenter. Ever since, it was as though he was being watched.

He'd asked a sailor at the trough of his activities about the carpenter. "So you think you're being followed?" was the response. A laugh. "My friend, that's what happens in closed spaces. People start seeing everyone everywhere."

Esteban hadn't bothered to debate the subject.

…

"Just set it down, I'll tend to it shortly."

Captain Balbin's words jolted the young lad a little harshly, but he promptly remembered his duties and put the plate and goblet on a safe spot near the desk edge.

"No, no, on the stand," corrected the Captain without looking up. Esteban hurriedly rectified the error. "Thank you."

The Captain paid no more attention to Esteban, obsessed as he seemed to be with his books. Esteban got a good look at him. A merchant, thought Esteban. I met many friendly merchants in Barcelona. They were wealthy because they were always so friendly.

Maybe… maybe they were like him.

He looked again. Balbin's expression had not changed much. He was frowning. Esteban's tension disappeared. Of course, _they_ were always so nice --

The Captain clapped the books together and leaned back, breathing a sigh of relief. His face broke into a smile.

"Damned books," he muttered weakly. "By God, one day they'll put an end to me." He turned, wearily. "Ah, cabin boy, what is it?"

"N-nothing --"

"I assure you that you'll be doing more than this --" He indicated the books. "-- sort of trash. I'm sure someone will be eager to teach you what it is you wish to know."

Esteban took it with stride. "Ah, yes, sir, that is what I was concerned with. Thank you, sir." He made his exit, more troubled than ever.

~~~

As he left the cabin, Esteban's march slowed to a long step. He was already exhausted, and as far as he could tell those around him were working harder than ever. He wished, now, that he had watched those sailors a little more often on the Esperanza. As it was, he couldn't tell one task from another; ship operation was fluid. Perhaps he could learn something like that, he decided. Watching endless repeating work had a calming effect on his nerves. Then he thought about it a little more -- all the spontaneity he normally felt would go to waste. No, no, not a good trade to learn at all.

Trade?

He visited the cabin which was currently housing the onboard traders in question, anticipating. The thought of going to other lands fascinated him, and besides he was certain they'd be sending for him about now anyway.

As he stepped inside, he heard a sharp retort. "So this gentleman labor trader was going to make us rich, then, was it? You had a lot of nerve!" A balding man of some twenty plus years was holding a yellowing scrap of parchment. "You should have listened to your Agatha, invested in something good."

"She has no business sense," replied an older, hawk-nosed man with sharp black sideburns, "I honestly don't know why I married her."

"Oh ho! I'm sure she'd love to hear that!"

"Wouldn't she!"

Esteban stepped in and waved to catch their attention. "Hello sirs, anything you need?"

The balding one and a couple of watchers paused, dumbfounded, and laughed. Esteban smiled at the joke he was sure had just been told by someone. The laughter died down really quickly, as though nothing had been said. There was a long pause before Sideburns spoke, half-heartedly.

"No, nothing. Thank you very much."

Esteban nodded, and moved to the side, but did not leave. So these are also traders, of a different type.

The balding one spoke up. "Doesn't the carpenter need something from you?" There was a little bit of laughter.

Esteban cocked his head. "The car --"

Sideburns leapt up. "Scat, you runt!" The cabin was in a bit of commotion at this turn of events, and Esteban left before everything turned ugly.

He sighed. Maybe trading wasn't a good thing to learn, either. In fact, he thought, everyone is so weird, maybe I ought to spend my time alone… no, there's too much going on, I couldn't just wait when everything is going on and everyone's calling for me, and when Zia and Tao… they're still locked up.

Feeling lost, Esteban hunched and stared over the edge of the vessel. For a few moments, an unsightly black mass stared him back in the face. After those moments, a flare of lantern light had appeared to his right, and with that the mass took on slight shape as the ripples nearest the ship glinted with a matte shine.

So why were they imprisoned, and I spared? Was not I approached by the very same soldiers that took Zia and Tao?

What makes a slave, anyway, and what makes a free man? On this ship I have nothing to do, no real place to sleep, and nothing to do but menial work. But that cannot be what makes a slave. How do I differ from them?…

He looked again. It was the carpenter who had hung up the light, and who was now watching him stonily. Esteban crept back, tensing as though to bolt, but the carpenter merely gestured him to come over.

Esteban swallowed, waited. Blinking once or twice, he took a deep breath and walked over.

"Yes, sir?"

The carpenter's eyes did not leave Esteban's. "Do you know," he said softly, "there are two children your age… below decks?"

Esteban swallowed again. "…yes."

"Do you know them?"

The hairs on the back of Esteban's neck stood. "No, I don't…"

The carpenter looked solidly at him, then scoffed slightly and turned away. "A pity. Well, I dare say that they seemed to know you. I heard them mentioning your name." He appraised Esteban's horrified look. "Heh heh. No, I won't tell the captain; he's got too much on his plate, shall we say." His eyes narrowed, and he almost grinned. "Just be careful. Stay out of trouble." He pointed to his eye and nodded knowingly. "Just behave, and there won't be any trouble."

The carpenter departed. Esteban abandoned hope for seeing his friends… this night.

[In the next belated episode of MCoG, Zia and Tao adjust to life in the darkness. (Zia and Tao awakening) Life in hold is demoralizing, and the two must fight its toll. Will the dank air, the repetitive lifestyle, or psychological aloneness be the first to take its toll? When it appears, will the prisoners pull through? Find out in the next episode of MCoG, whenever it comes out.]