distinctively fearful – as he seemed to be regarded by his employees.
So when we finally sighted the island of Palma de Mojarca several weeks later and had sailed into its spacious harbor, I was agog with excitement that ordinary Fleas would never have felt but which I, as an extraordinarily perceptive creature – despite the humbleness of my station – endured with great impatience as the ship was docked.
Then, too, I was tiring of the thin-blooded old captain upon whom I'd transferred myself, having found Ignacio's chronically sweaty flesh too difficult to easily traverse ever since he had begun perspiring most profusely night and day – probably due more to his fear of the impending punishment rather than the delightfully warm climate into which we had sailed and arrived.
Hardly had the ship been secured to the wharf than phalanxes of black men – garbed in brightly hued loincloths, the silvery and golden metal of their fancy weapons gleaming brilliantly against their ebony flesh – marched aboard, some of the gigantic nubian guardsmen escorting the bevy of cowering and confused virgins ashore, the others taking the captain, the sullen-faced lesbian and Ignacio into custody.
Directly we were led up a winding road to the imposing outer gate of an immense castle of mad architectural beauty – its Moorish lines and complicated decorative tile-work, a symphony of blatant and exotic art – where our guardsmen turned us over to other, more formally attired guardsmen who then marched us to the palace.
Its interiors were unbelievably splendid and luxurious. Fine woven tapestries hung from the stone walls. Stairways and furniture were ornately carved from polished woods. The all-encompassing atmosphere was that of wealthy splendor and breath-taking space filled with rich colors and textures right down to the millions of cushions piled everywhere.
We passed steadily from room to room, occasionally turning down broad hallways and passing huge windows that offered brief glimpses of intricately planted gardens or wide pools of glittering water. Finally we reached an immense room where we were halted, apparently to wait. The floor was thickly carpeted with an oriental pattern that reached from wall to wall. A slightly raised platform at one end of the mammoth room was piled with many of the brightly colored cushions. The ceiling seemed to arch at least fifty feet overhead, sunlight diffused by panes of glass that had been tinted somehow and made the interior glow softly.
Then Senor Bullpole entered the fantastic room from a door nearby. He waddled slowly toward the small mountain of cushions – an immensely tall man whose bulging belly created a girth that diminished his stature most deceptively. Ponderously, he lowered his huge body to the cushions and settled himself without hurry. The guards moved us closer to where Bullpole lounged now, staring expressionlessly at those who had been brought before him.
I was intrigued to find the man's eyes were a pale yellow color and they burned out of a handsome craggy face that showed no emotion. His skull was totally bald, having been shaved clean. His hands were large and graceful, toying with a medallion on a golden chain slung around his massive neck. When he finally opened his thin- lipped mouth and spoke, his voice was muted thunder.
“I've been appraised of the facts concerning the shortage of your cargo, Captain,” he rumbled calmly. “I'm waiting to hear your explanation of this sad delivery. Please feel free to speak your mind.”
The captain described the lesbian's bribing of the since deceased female guard and her subsequent deflowering of the virgin by finger. He spoke with confidence and great feeling, his disgust plain each time his rheumy eyes glanced at the lesbian who stood defiantly erect, glaring at Bullpole. When he came to the mention of Ignacio's sexual assault upon the deflowered virgin, the old man's tone changed to a low, supplicating note as he described the natural appetite of a healthy young man who had been at sea without relief sexually for weeks – and he concluded by throwing himself upon the mercy of Bullpole.
There was a long silence during which Bullpole's eyes went from the captain to the lesbian to Ignacio and returned at last to the old man. He sighed deeply, shifting his great weight from one buttock to the other.
“Well, justice must be done so that others will avoid this kind of mistake,” he said quietly, his bass-voice booming deeply. “Mercy is indeed due to those whose actions warrant it just as punishment must be meted out to those who deserve it. You, Captain, are the most responsible for this unfortunate shortage since you were the highest authority aboard ship.”
“I realize that, sire,” mumbled the old man.
“Therefore, you must die.”
The captain's face blanched whitely. He wavered upon legs from which strength had ebbed at this death warrant.
“However,” continued Bullpole, “since this is the first serious error you have allowed to be made in many years of faithful service – you shall die most easily and comfortably by your own hand. A certain drug will be given you. Take it before morning in your wine. You will feel no pain but you will be dead within seconds of imbibing the drug.”
Bullpole nodded at the guards and they marched the stumbling captain out of the room. Now Bullpole studied Ignacio closely.
“You are young and strong. I expect many years of service and loyalty from you.” The gonglike voice rang clear and low. “You behaved strictly according to the dictates of human nature. What saves you is the simple fact of timing that the girl was deflowered before you enjoyed her.”
Ignacio trembled visibly, head bent.
“You're to be punished in a manner most humiliating because it will be public, and in a fashion determined by your unfortunate breach of orders. Take him to the smaller arena.”
Ignacio was dragged away roughly.
Now the lesbian's defiance wilted beneath the steely gaze of Bullpole's golden eyes. She cowered miserably, her degenerate's face stricken with the terrified realization that her fate was going to be much worse than either of the others who had been adjudged and sentenced. She quivered with fright, falling to her knees.
“What I did was natural, too, sire – for one born with my appetite for members of my own sex!” she wailed nasally. “Please be merciful to an old lesbian, sire! I didn't realize what I was doing!”
“You took that which wasn't yours to have.” His tone was cold, unrelenting. “You robbed me – and those who rob me are my enemies.”
“No, sire! I worked hard aboard ship! I'm as strong as any man! Mercy, sire!”
“Your inborn hatred of the true male shall be your punishment. Since you loathe human males and consider yourself their sexual equal, I sentence you to a death by sexual intercourse with a male of a different species. Take her to the gorilla cage and wait until I join you there before beginning the entertainment her death will provide!”
They dragged her out of the room, shrieking insanely with terror and screaming insults while she struggled wildly to get free of the guards' firm hold upon her unfeminine strength. Bullpole watched her departure with a curled lip.
Having leaped to a nearby guard from the captain's body when he was being taken away, I now hurtled across the space separating the brawny guard from the mammoth Bullpole, landing deftly upon that great man so lightly that he never felt my presence.
“Notify my usual entourage to be ready to accompany me to the entertainments of both that creature and the young man,” he ordered, and the guard nodded, leaving the room instantly. A few moments later, Bullpole rose to his feet with some effort and waddled across the room, entering a suite more bizarrely and beautifully furnished than anywhere else in the castle. Here, he drank some wine, ate a few pieces of fruit and studied himself in a flawless mirror, smiling blandly at his reflection.
“Ah, well, Bullpole,” he said chuckling. “You've come a distance indeed from the days of Madrid gutters and a whoring sister's maternal care! Now there are more young innocents awaiting your attention. But first, the punishments to educate all others to the importance of carrying out orders to the letter!”
He left the suite, following a descending stairway that led to a broad balcony extending out from the main building of that wing of the palace. On one side it overlooked a small arena. On the other, it overlooked an enclosure of steel bars in which a huge gorilla sat broodingly, his tiny eyes glaring up when he saw Bullpole join the two beautiful young women awaiting him. Behind the young women robed in silken gowns that displayed the perfection of their lushly curved bodies, stood more female attendants, also exceptionally beautiful and well shaped in flimsy tunics of a simpler cloth that showed off their female forms.
Bullpole seated himself between the two beauties, turning to the brunette, whose serene features bore
