Chapter Two - Escape

Departure

"Weigh anchor! Set the sails! We're departing!"

A woman's voice echoes across the azure sky.

"Raquel! Thank goodness the wind came in time. We nearly got caught by the heretic hunters! It seems the Malacca Inquisition is still short-staffed. If this had been Goa, we'd be hanging from nooses by now!"

A robust seafaring man with an overwhelming giant frame jokes with laughter.

"Diego! There's no way we could die by hanging!"

Diego raises his voice even higher.

"That's certainly true for you, Raquel. You're too stubborn! But when push comes to shove, I might confess without shame or dignity. No, I definitely would. Then even if I died, I might be able to resurrect somewhere. I just can't stand being burned alive!"

"Haha! That's just like you. You just need to carry me to that land! Work hard and stay alive until then! After that, whether you're burned to death, hanged to death, or drowned and sunk, it's none of my concern!"

"Your mouth is as foul as ever. But Raquel, you seem unusually cheerful. We're running away again, you know. And this time, it's not Goa or Malacca, but a mysterious country of the Orient. There are no compatriots there. We don't know what's happening or anything at all! We might just go there and die. So why do you look so happy?"

"Do I look cheerful? I see. I can't hide anything from you. That's right. We're going to an unknown country. A land that even our own people don't know. My blood stirs. We're not running away. We're heading forward, Diego!"

The ship has already left port, and the wind pushes the sails strongly. The sound of the wind grows stronger, drowning out even the creaking sounds of the deck. Yet strangely, the two voices carry well.

"How brave. But it's sad, isn't it? Back when we were in Viseu, my job was to chase away the men who came courting you. Now I'm burned by the sun and covered in sea spray. I'm as black as a sailor. My hair looks like the tattered hemp rope rolling around on the deck!"

"Diego. That's because the navigator is incompetent, so the captain has to suffer! Still, Viseu? You're digging up things from quite long ago. I hate old stories. Maybe the reason you look strangely aged lately is because you keep thinking about such old times."

Diego continues with a bitter smile, chewing back his words.

"Hey Raquel. Why don't we take down the doctor's sign and become pirates instead? I hear pirates are making quite a fortune these days! Even for trade, from here on, silk and glass beads seem more profitable than pepper and medicinal herbs."

"Pirates, eh. According to letters from my sister who fled north, in England the king employs pirates to attack Spanish and Portuguese ships. Those ships are loaded with treasures plundered from the New World. If you can capture them skillfully without sinking them, it's certainly profitable. I hear some pirates have even gained the queen's favor and become royal retainers. What a strange era we live in."

"England, eh. It's a completely unknown land to me, but if it's that profitable, it's not bad! Why don't we attack any Spanish ships we find around here? Then we could flee to this England place. We might become rich!"

"Haha! How do you expect this worn-out wreck to defeat armed merchant ships? We have only six pitiful cannons, and only two that work properly. That would be a straight path to the stake. Stop spouting nonsense and get to work! There's a reef area ahead. The wind looks like it's shifting south too. If we run aground before reaching open waters, I'll hang you from this mast myself before the Inquisition hunters can catch us!"

"Oh scary, scary. Raquel's temper has flared up. Retreat, retreat!"

Diego said this and disappeared into the cabin. Raquel goes to the stern deck. Are there any pursuing ships in the wake? She strains her eyes. That's right. We're running away again. And to a completely unknown world.

"Firando..."

Raquel spoke aloud the name of their destination. She knows nothing except the town's name. No, is it even a town or a country? She doesn't even know that clearly. But we have to go. The heretic hunters in Malacca still have a fragile system. But it won't take long for them to realize we've escaped. This is the only way. Raquel struck the mast several times as if carving in her resolve and fear. Please, Aurora. You're a wreck of a ship, but we're counting on you this time too.

Strong Westerly Wind

"Raquel. It's no good! The southwest wind is as we aimed for, but the westerly component is too strong. The tide isn't good either. We're being carried away more and more. We can't resupply at Hainan Island like this! We have no choice but to go to Macau!"

Three days after departing from Malacca, the Aurora was trying to head north through the South China Sea toward Hainan Island.

"Diego. Macau is their stronghold. A faster ship than this wreck could have arrived first and be waiting at the harbor with bated breath. You want us to walk straight into that trap? Tacking is your specialty, isn't it? I don't want to hear your complaints!"

"It's impossible. In this wind, no matter how hard we try, we'll be blown west. Raquel, you're a proper sailor now too. You know very well that fighting the wind gets you nowhere, right? We suffered plenty during Goa and Malacca."

Raquel just silently watches the breaking white waves from the deck.

"Listen. Macau is supposed to be a huge city. If we hang crosses around our necks and act meek, there won't be anyone with time to suspect us. The Sephardic community is thriving there too. We'll quickly resupply and hastily withdraw. Even if it's a wreck, this ship endured the long journey from Lisbon to Goa. Once we can resupply in Macau, the rest to Firando will be easy."

Looking up at the sails billowing full with the west wind, Diego squints his eyes. It's exactly like a father's gaze toward his daughter.

"That might certainly be true."

Raquel responded with just those words.

"What's this? You're unusually agreeable today. It's throwing me off."

Diego muttered this and headed toward the stern to fold the sail, shaking his head. Diego appears bold but is actually timid. That's what's good about him. Raquel thinks so. In escape, the bolder ones die sooner. And Diego puts on more bravado the more anxious he becomes. They've been together long enough that she knows this well. Therefore, Diego's false cheer conversely convinces Raquel of Macau's danger. That same Diego is saying they have no choice but to go to Macau. The westerly wind is that difficult.

(Don't fight the wind.)

Those words from Diego have saved Raquel and her companions many times. Should she insist on Hainan Island? Go to Macau? Or continue west with the wind, even further than Macau?

If they don't stop at Macau and continue further west, there are supposedly ports on several islands. If they advance about four hundred nautical miles west and skillfully catch a south wind, they might be able to enter Chinese ports along the continental coast. But that would also be a base for Asian pirates. It might be more dangerous than heretic hunters. Besides, thinking you can catch a south wind later when you can't catch it now is fool's logic.

Well, time to steel my resolve. Raquel returns to the cabin and places her hand on a bundle on the desk. For times like this, she bought forged transit permits from smugglers. She also has baptismal certificates for everyone. It cost a fortune to gather these, but will they actually work?

"Sephardic community, eh."

Raquel murmurs. She doesn't need Diego to tell her. She knows the Sephardic community in Macau is quite large. The forged transit permits and baptismal certificates were obtained by allies cooperating with conversos in Macau. And there's also a letter of introduction to Pereira, a merchant based in Malacca.

"Allies. That's what makes it troublesome again."

Conflict grips Raquel's heart tightly. Still, let's go. To Macau. Don't fight the wind. Raquel tells herself while drowsing. A warm wind that slaps the cheek inflates the sail like a balloon, and the ship flies westward. The waxing moon casts its distorted image on the sea surface, broken by white waves only to cast its shadow again. The ship's rocking gives irresistible drowsiness to the tired woman. Raquel eventually falls into deep sleep.