Paradise & More (Torres Family Saga) (16 page)

      
What awaits me in Castile? Perhaps once I return and talk with my parents, I will come back here...to Aliyah.
His love for her was the joyous uninhibited lustfulness of youth, but was it also the genuine companionship that created a permanent bond such as Benjamin and Serafina shared? He wished no less than that, but had often doubted he would find it. Ana certainly had been forced to settle for less.

      
“Your thoughts are troubled,” Aliyah said, putting down her work. “Is it that my brother's gold hunters have been able to find so little for your admiral?”

      
He smiled at her and shook his head, replying in the Taino language, “No. I have seen the riches of this land, the people, the crops, the magnificence of mountains and rivers. Men can live and thrive in peace here. They need only tools and a will to work, not gold.”

      
“Then you miss your family?” Aliyah watched his face grow even more pensive.

      
“Yes, my parents grow old and my sister is unhappily wed. My brother, like me, sojourns far from home. Yes, I miss them.”

      
“But you have no wife,” she said, her voice laced with uncertainty, although he had repeatedly told her he did not. “Will you go back to the sky when the admiral comes here?”

      
Her voice sounded both jealous and sad. Aaron felt the old guilt gnaw at him as he took her hand, pulling her up from the earthen floor. “I have told you we cross the waters. We do not sail to the sky. We are but men, not gods, Aliyah, all too mortal in our sins.”

      
She waited patiently, knowing he did not want to answer her.

      
Sighing, he added. “Yes, Aliyah, I will have to return to Castile with Don Cristobal.”

      
“Forever?” she asked with the beginning of a pout marring her full lips.

      
“Forever is a long time,” he replied with a lazy smile, reaching out to her. “Let us not consider it until the admiral arrives here.”

      
She came eagerly into his embrace.

      
Later, as evening fell, Aliyah prepared the staple food in their diet,
cassava
, bread. Seated on a stool, she patiently scraped the outer skins from the
cassava
plant with a piece of sharp flint. The bitter roots, once peeled, squeezed, and shredded, were baked like unleavened bread, a food considerably more palatable than ship's biscuit. Outside their
bohio
the thick white meat of an iguana roasted slowly over the coals. With minimal hunting and fishing, the men of the Taino supplemented the carefully tended crops the women grew. Because of the year-round warmth, two planting seasons were possible. Nature yielded great bounty here.

      
Aaron lay in his
hamaca
, contemplating how it might be to live out his life among these people. Of course, he would first have to return to Seville and explain his choice to his family. His mother would be bereft, but somehow, he thought his father would understand. Aaron drifted off to sleep, dreaming of bringing his family here to see the marvels of the Indian islands. Then a russet-haired nymph intruded, standing beside Benjamin.

      
He was startled from his reverie when Aliyah's younger brother called his name excitedly. He swung from the
hamaca
and the disturbing dream faded as he faced the fourteen-year-old boy. Caonu was slim and fine-boned with the features of a choirboy, almost too delicate for a male. Only a heavy gold nose ring marred their perfection. “What has happened?”

      
“Your ad-mi-ral,” the boy said, pronouncing the foreign title carefully, “he returns!” The youth's face split in a wide grin of pure joy. “His great
canoas
have been seen at the north of the river only a few miles from here. My brother Guacanagari prepares to greet him in person.” Although he strove for dignity, it was all he could do not to hop up and down in excitement.

      
“The
cacique
does great honor to my admiral, Caonu,” Aaron replied as he pulled on his tunic, hose, and boots, then buckled on his sword belt. Colon would be appalled at his marshal's newly acquired habits. He had taken to wearing only a small loincloth as a shield against the curiosity of the natives, who found his circumcision a thing of great wonder and puzzlement. Now European clothing seemed hot and constricting. Already he was sweaty as he left the
bohio
and strode into the central plaza with Aliyah at his side.

      
The plaza served as a gathering place for war councils, celebrations, and the rough and exhilarating ball sports the Taino played. Now several dozen highly ranked nobles were awaiting the
cacique
. Everyone was decked out in red body paint with feathers in their hair and heavy gold-copper alloyed jewelry adorning their arms and legs. Guacanagari wore a nose ring of pure gold, and about his neck the heavy pendant that symbolized his rank as the
cacique
of the province. At least twenty to thirty sub-chiefs from a hundred miles around bowed to the young leader's authority.

      
Guacanagari stepped onto an elaborately woven hemp litter, which was decorated with shells, bones, bits of gold and copper, and some of the tinkling hawk's bells the fleet had brought in trade. Half a dozen young. men, chosen specially for the honor, lifted the wooden poles and bore their cacique aloft. He waved to Aaron. “Please, come with us to greet your admiral. You, who have learned our language so well, you may speak for me.”

      
“You do me honor, Guacanagari,” Aaron replied with a smile. “Many of your people have learned Castilian far better than I Taino.”

      
“You are too modest, but come and let us see if my people who sojourned on your great
canoas
have learned as much of your speech as you have of ours.”

      
Aliyah now came forward. “I will supervise the preparation of a great feast for your admiral.”

      
Aaron took her hand and raised it to his lips. “He will be greatly pleased.”

      
When the welcome party reached the cove, the
Santa Maria
and
Nina
bobbed in the water as a boat bearing the admiral made for shore.

      
Colon walked through the shallow surf with the dignity of command he always possessed, followed by Vicente Pinzón and a group of officers and seamen. Cristobal's face bore a look of amazement as he inspected Aaron, who had come ahead of the slowly moving litter bearers and the
cacique
. “You are growing darker than your Indians, my friend.”

      
Aaron's teeth flashed whitely in his bronzed face. “I fear to offend your sensibilities, but all of me is as sun-kissed. I like the Taino's habits of dress.”

      
“Then we must spirit you aboard ship before you become so dark that a Portuguese slaver will capture you when we return home.”

      
Aaron's eyes swept the cove. “Where is Martin Alonzo and
Pinta
?” He noted Vicente's embarrassed flush even before Colon spoke.

      
“The captain of
Pinta
was separated from us on the twenty-first of November. We have no trace of her and fear the worst.” The admiral's pale eyes were darkened slate blue with anger held in check. Obviously he felt the departure was deliberate, and it was in direct disobedience of orders. “We will speak more of this later. For now, you must tell me how your journey here was accomplished. Has the chief gold? Knows he of the great Khan on the mainland?”

      
Aaron shrugged, feeling helpless in the face of his friend's hopes—hopes he feared were bound to be dashed. All the Majesties wanted was a route to swift riches—gold, pearls, spices, all the fabled wealth of the East. “These people know of no great mainland where the Khan resides, Cristobal,” he began gently. “At least, in as much as I have been able to learn since coming to this, their home island. There is great wealth here—rich, fertile land to cultivate, exotic and wondrous fruits that grow wild on trees and bushes, water teaming with fish. There is some gold,” he added when Colon's expression grew bleak. “I myself have seen men of Guacanagari's village return from gathering expeditions with it. They wash it from the rivers of the interior. What is here is not so great as what Polo described, but these are far outlying islands.”

      
“Yes,” Colon replied, rubbing his freshly shaven chin in consideration. “We charted hundreds of islands and followed one vast coastline far to the northeast of here. I hoped it to be part of the mainland, but all we found were more people who spoke the tongue of these people. They called the place Cuba. I named it Juana in honor of the Infanta. It may take years to chart the vastness of the Indies.” The blue flame had returned to his eyes now.

      
Luis Torres, aboard the second boat with Juan de la Cosa and several others, quickly ran up to his compatriot. “Aaron! How happy I am to see you,” he said in the Taino language.

      
“I see you have put your Taino guide to good use as a teacher,” Aaron said, clapping his small, dark-haired friend on the back as he replied in the same tongue.

      
Luis smiled at the Taino who had journeyed with him. Analu was as short as the Spaniard, but of a far stockier, more muscular build.
 

      
The native's square blunt-featured face bore a placid expression belying the keen intelligence that shone in his liquid brown eyes. “You, too, have learned our speech well,” Analu replied in careful Castilian, smiling proudly as Aaron bowed politely to him.

      
“Analu has been a splendid teacher and pupil. He has all but mastered the rudiments of Castilian in little over two short months.” Luis scanned the Taino entourage entering the open beach area. Laughing, he added, “I think your teacher far more comely than mine, you fortunate rascal. Where is the lovely Aliyah?”

      
“At the village. Wait until you see the feast in our honor—and the village. Mayhap three thousand souls. The streets are wide and straight, the houses clean and comfortable. The food—well, only wait,” Aaron said to Luis and the admiral, who watched as the
cacique's
litter was ceremoniously lowered to the sand close by.

      
Walking over to stand by his new friend, Guacanagari, Aaron made the official introductions, acting as chief interpreter with Luis and Analu assisting him. Through them, the
cacique
and the admiral extended all courtesies to each other. There would be great feasting in the village this night.

* * * *

      
Aaron awakened, hearing cries in Castilian and Taino echoing across the great plaza. “Shipwreck!” One of the two remaining vessels had run aground. How could such a thing have happened? “I must go with the others to help my admiral, Aliyah,” he said as Caonu rushed into their
bohio
to describe the catastrophe which had befallen during the night. Already faint pink and gold hazed the eastern sky.

      
As he dressed, he felt her eyes on him. She did not speak, only waited unhappily for him to tell her what he would do. He walked over to where she, lay on the raised sleeping platform, the bed where they so often had made love. Kneeling, he took her face between his hands and gazed into her eyes. Thick, shiny tears trickled from the corners. He wiped them away with the pads of his thumbs. “Please, do not cry. I must go to aid Cristobal. I do not know what his plans will be with this-new misfortune.”

      
“His plans will take you far from me, never to return,” she said bitterly.

      
“I will return, Aliyah. This I swear by my God and the
zemis
of your ancestors.”

      
She smiled weakly. “My
zemis
are strong, but they are not your gods. Your people have many—the Cristo your admiral speaks of is not the god of your family. By what god of the white men do you swear, Aaron?”

      
“I have told you enough of religious strife in the Spains to confuse you,” he replied. “I am not certain that there is so much difference. You call Him by many names. Christians say He is Three in One—this Cristo, His Father, and the Holy Spirit. My ancestors call Him Jehovah, the Moors call Him Allah. Perhaps to each people He appears as their own. There is only one thing I do know. No one should be forced to convert from one belief to another. I mislike the strife across the ocean, Aliyah. Let Christian, Jew and Moor battle there. I will return here when my duty is done.” Saying the words, Aaron suddenly realized that they were true and knew he would return.

      
When they reached the beach, the wind was blowing lightly, but chaos reigned as if a great gale were roaring. The
Santa Maria
had run aground, bow down while the incoming surges of ocean waves smashed her repeatedly against the hard coral reef, punching holes in the wooden hull. The pumps had already been abandoned and the heavy main mast cut down to lighten the sinking vessel. The admiral was only buying time for the frantic crew to unload her supplies. Both ships' boats ferried back and forth with food, weapons, wine casks, and all the goods aboard the dying
nao.

      
Aaron could see Colon's tall figure on the quarterdeck as he shouted orders to men who raced about, carrying trunks and barrels amidships where they were handed down to waiting boats. By now several of the Taino's larger dugouts had joined the rescue effort and were ferrying goods to the beach. Jumping aboard one
canoa
, Aaron took up a paddle and rowed with the Indian crew as if born to it.