The accounting ran long into the night, and then the counting team joined the others in drunken songs and revelry. Neither Hunter nor Sanson participated; instead, they met in Hunter’s cabin.
Sanson came directly to the point. “How is the woman?”
“Prickly,” Hunter said. “And she cries a good deal.”
“But she is unscathed?”
“She is alive.”
“She must be accounted a part of the king’s tenth,” Sanson said. “Or the governor’s.”
“Sir James will not allow it.”
“Surely you can persuade him.”
“I doubt it.”
“You have rescued his only niece…”
“Sir James has a keen business sense. His fingers cling to gold.”
“I think you must try, on the part of all the crew,” Sanson said, “to show him the correct way of thinking.”
Hunter shrugged. He had, in fact, already thought of this, and was planning to argue the case before the governor.
But he did not wish to make any promises to Sanson.
The Frenchman poured wine. “Well,” he said heartily. “We have done great things, my friend. What is your plan for the return?”
Hunter sketched his intention to travel south, then to stay in open water until they could reach northward for Port Royal.
“Do you not think,” Sanson said, “that we will be safer if we divide the treasure between the two ships, and separate now, returning by different routes?”
“I think it is better we remain together. Two ships present a formidable obstacle, seen from a distance. Singly, we might be attacked.”
“Aye,” Sanson said. “But there are a dozen Spanish ships of the line patrolling these waters. If we separate, it is most unlikely we would both encounter warships.”
“We need not fear Spanish warriors. We are legitimate Spanish merchantmen. Only the French or the English might attack us.”
Sanson smiled. “You do not trust me.”
“Of course not,” Hunter said, smiling back. “I want you in my sight, and I want the treasure beneath my feet.”
“So be it,” Sanson said, but there was a dark look in his eyes, and Hunter promised himself he would remember it.
Chapter 26
FOUR DAYS LATER, they sighted the monster.
It had been an uneventful sail, down the chain of the Lesser Antilles. The wind was fair and the sea calm; Hunter knew he was now nearly a hundred miles south of Matanceros, and with each passing hour he breathed more easily.
His crew was busy making the galleon as seaworthy as possible. The Spanish crew had kept El Trinidad in a lamentable state of repair. Rigging was frayed; sails were thin in places, torn in others; decks were filthy and the holds stank with refuse. There was much to do as they sailed southward, past Guadeloupe and San Marino.
At noon of the fourth day, Enders, ever watchful, noticed the change in the water. He pointed off to starboard. “Look there,” he said to Hunter.
Hunter turned. The water was placid, with only a slight chop to mar the glassy surface. But barely a hundred yards away, there was a churning beneath the waves - some large object moving toward them, and at incredible speed.
“What are we making?” he demanded.
“Ten knots,” Enders said. “Mother of God…”
“If we are making ten, that thing is making twenty,” Hunter said.
“At least twenty,” Enders said. He glanced around at the crews. No one had noticed it.
“Move to landward,” Hunter said. “Get us in shoal water.”
“The kraken don’t like it shallow,” Enders said.
“Let us hope not.”
The submerged shape moved closer, and passed by the boat some fifty yards away. Hunter had a glimpse of dead gray-white, a suggestion of tentacles, and then the thing was gone. It moved off, and circled, then came back again.
Enders slapped his cheek. “I’m dreaming,” he said. “I must be. Say it is not true.”
“It’s true,” Hunter said.
From the nest of the mainmast, Lazue, the lookout, whistled to Hunter. She had seen the thing. Hunter looked up at her and shook his head, to keep silent.
“Thank God she didn’t give out the cry,” Enders said, “that’s all we’d be needing, isn’t it?”
“Shoal water,” Hunter said grimly. “And quickly.” He watched the churning water approach once more.
Up in the mainmast nest, Lazue was high above the clear blue water, and she could see the approach of the kraken plainly. Her heart was in her throat, for this was a legendary beast, the stuff of sailing songs and stories for the children of seafarers. But few had ever seen such a creature, and Lazue was not glad of the experience. It seemed to her that her heart stopped as she watched the thing approach again, with frightening speed, plowing up the surface as it came toward El Trinidad.
When it was very close, she saw the entire animal clearly. Its skin was a dead gray. It had a pointed snout, a bulbous body at least twenty feet long, and trailing behind, a tangle of long tentacles, like a Medusa’s head. It passed beneath the ship, not touching the hull, but the waves from the creature’s movements rocked the galleon. Then she saw it emerge on the other side and plunge down into the blue depths of the ocean. She wiped her sweating brow.
Lady Sarah Almont came on deck to find Hunter peering over the side. “Good day, Captain,” she said. He turned and gave her a slight bow. “Madam.”
“Captain, you are quite ashen. Is all well?”
Without replying, Hunter rushed to the other side of the aft deck and peered over the side again.
Enders at the tiller said, “You see it?”
“See what?” asked Lady Sarah.
“No,” Hunter said. “It dived.”
“We should have thirty fathoms beneath us,” Enders said. “That’s shoal for the thing.”
“What thing?” asked Lady Sarah, pouting prettily.
Hunter came back to her.
Enders said, “It may be back.”
“Aye,” Hunter said.
She looked from Hunter to Enders. Both men were drenched in cold sweat. Both were very pale.
“Captain, I am no sailor. What is the meaning of this?”
Enders, tense, exploded. “God’s blood, woman, we have just seen-”
“-an omen,” said Hunter smoothly, with a sharp look to Enders. “An omen, my lady.”
“An omen? Are you superstitious, Captain?”
“Aye, he’s very superstitious, he is,” said Enders, glancing out toward the horizon.
“It is plain,” said Lady Sarah, stamping her foot on the deck, “that you will not tell me what is amiss.”
“That’s right,” Hunter said, smiling. He had a charming smile, even through his pallor. He could be most exasperating, she thought.
“I know I am a woman,” she began, “but I really must insist-”
