The Unfinished Land

An Advancing Front

EL MAESTRO hath made plans to push the galleon from shore and return through the gyre,” Manuel said, his lips close to Reynard’s ear.

The boy had again been dozing, if only to pass the time, and this woke him quickly. The light said it was late afternoon. He sat up blinking, and saw Manuel squatting beside him. They watched four sailors fasten the patch to the galleon’s side with bolts and nails and then caulk it with tar. Ten more sailors, accompanied by a ponderous, grumbling el maestro, surveyed the upper beach, poking sticks between the shingle and into the sand, perhaps to measure the tide from the night before.

“Will the ship stay afloat?” Reynard asked.

Manuel shook his head dubiously. “The wood here is unfaithful,” he said. “They will as like sink out beyond the breakers and become food for the big lobsters.”

“Methinks they are not lobsters,” Reynard said.

“Agreed,” Manuel said with a wink. “Dark doth sweep us soon. el capitán maketh preparation to move inland, away from the beach and the dog-eating dragons—and find places to hide from the glassy skins. The soldiers might kill me and thee before they go. Or they might think death awaiteth us here anyway, and why bother?”

“They want to conquer? But they know nothing about the island… do they?”

Manuel said, “Philip commandeth dominance—that, and the spread of the Inquisition. It is what they are trained to do. el capitán believeth he will never reach England, or even return to Spain, yet still feareth what Philip might think of him… as if the Spanish king learneth his exploits from a crystal ball.”

“Doth he so study?”

Manuel smiled. “Philip never so observed the islands named after him. I was there with Salcedo, in Manila, where the nao de la China load and take their name—Manila galleons. Philip did not learn the foolishness of his generals, and the valiant efforts of many priests, until he heard it from human lips—his own spies and officers. And so… no crystal ball.”

Were the priests monsters, or saviors? Manuel seemed capable of holding both opinions at once. “Dark soon cometh, and the glassy skins will be back,” he said. “I doubt any army, no matter how strong, can twice survive such visitors.”