BACHUÉ:
The first night onboard the ship was horrible. The ship wouldn't stop shaking and I felt like I was getting dizzy. I tried to sleep, but couldn't. The image of Delilah, alone, fighting, continued to bombard my thoughts.
I kept wondering what had happened to her. Would she be okay?
The last I saw of her was when she dropped her sword, raised her hands, and surrendered to the Duke's troops. I breathed easy when I saw that. Because it meant that she would be safe. Maybe they would torture her. Well, they most likely would, but at least she would still be alive.
"Oh, Saints, please protect her" I kept repeating. "May the torture be not so cruel."
Everything depended on the mercy of Marco and young Al-Thule.
Thanks to Delilah, I was able to find a position as a passenger on that ship. It turns out that Delilah sold her armor so she could buy my ticket.
Saints ... how I loved that woman.
What would I have done without her?
…
I was not alone in my cabin, I shared it with a hunter from the north, about forty years old, and his son about twelve years old.
"I have never shared a ship with a woman," the hunter told me. "And much less dark-skin."
Fortunately, he didn't think I was for bad luck.
The man snored a lot, and it was one of the reasons I couldn't sleep.
How was it possible that the child could sleep with such loud snoring? I figured he was used to it by then.
Our ship, called The Dawn, was an old, rickety ratchet, of black wood and white sails, that creaked with the movement of the waves. The Dawn had plowed the seas for years, carrying heavy loads and passengers over long distances.
The captain was alias The Lynx, nobody knew his real name, or so they told me. The man was tall, with a tanned face, curly gray hair, and a penetrating gaze, like one of a feline. Maybe that's where his nickname came from.
Despite his rough appearance, he turned out to be quite nice to me. Not so much with the crew.
"Do not worry, my lady," said The Lynx, "aboard the dawn, you will reach the north safely."
I wanted to believe him. Many men considered a woman on board a ship a sign of bad luck. And me being dark-skinned, surely I would not be well received by the other men of the crew.
Saints…
In the middle of the night, when I was turning on my cot, I heard it… that Porto Razza melody. I got up from the cot and left my cabin. I was kind of enchanted by that hypnotic melody.
I went up to the deck, where the melody was loudest. I walked to the bow, there I felt the gentle night breeze from the sea. Then I focused my gaze on the tip of the boat, and I recognized him ... A light-skinned man in his thirties, with elegant clothes, with a green velvet cape, long brown hair, gathered in a tail, and in his hands, he was touching a lute.
"Veny the bard ..."
The man sat on the edge of the prow, staring out at the dark horizon, as his fingers brushed the strings of his musical instrument, and as the ship rose and fell as the lazy waves rocked.
He turned around and gave me a good-natured smile.
"Hello again, milady," he greeted me.
"Hello, Veny the bard" I replied. "What a surprise to meet again."
"Please, just Veny."
His smile, his kind eyes… gave the feeling of warmth and tranquility. Like the music he played.
"That melody ... that was the one I heard in Porto Razza," I said.
"Yes? And did you like it? "
"Loved it."
He kept playing the melody. I was lost in its notes. I don't know why it reminded me of Barranca, the southern landscapes, the warmth of the peasants, the taste of my mother's food, the dances in town, Delilah's kisses, and the smell of flowers in spring.
"Why am I feeling so nostalgic?" I asked.
The man stopped the melody, looked me in the eye, and said:
"It is the power of music, milady."
I don't know why I smiled.
"Milady, it turns out that you know my name, but I don't know yours."
"Oh right, how rude of me. Nice to meet you, I'm Bachué Quispe. "
"Bachué ... what an exotic name."
"Thanks?"
"No problem!"
"How is that song called?" I asked intrigued.
"Going Home," he replied.
Going Home…
"Wow, what magical eyes you have, Bachué," Veny pointed out. "I've never seen crimson eyes like yours."
"They are quite rare among my people."
"Your people?"
"Yes, dark-skins. They ... say they bring misfortune. "
"Do eyes bring misfortune?"
"Some people say that."
"But what nonsense!" Veny exclaimed with a smile. "They seem charming to me, unique. I could compose a poem about those eyes. "
I blushed.
"Oh, but what does it say, Lord Veny."
"Oh no, please don't call me lord, I'm not a Lord, I am a humble bard who makes a living singing poem. "
I nodded.
"And what brings a young woman to this ship?" Veny asked.
"Love."
"Oh love. Sure you do," said the bard, plucking his lute. "All the motivations of the human heart are reduced to two feelings: love or fear."
"Maybe love is the fear of being alone."
"Oh! But what beautiful thought! You are so correct, milady. "
"And what does bring YOU to this ship?"
Veny looked out into the dark horizon.
"I could say that also love. The love of music. "
What an intriguing man. I imagined that he would have many stories to tell. Bards like him travel from town to town. They travel the kingdom singing dozens of songs. They know hundreds of people and hundreds of lives.
How wonderful to be from nowhere. The things he had seen.
"Can you play another song?" I asked.
"Of course I do, as many as the crimson-eyed woman wants."
His fingers caressed the strings and I was mesmerized again by the melody.
***
"Did you run away from the wedding with a nobleman?" Veny asked me with wide eyes.
"Yes," I replied, embarrassed.
"What a great story!" Exclaimed the bard, spreading his arms. "It is worthy of an epic poem!"
A few seagulls flew over us near the starboard gunwale. I looked up to see them, in the harsh morning sun.
I had never seen seagulls. I found them beautiful.
"It means we are near a coast," Veny said.
"The seagulls?"
"Yes."
The bard and I had been talking nonstop since we met again at The Dawn. Voyages on the high seas used to be long and tedious, without much to do. So good company was highly appreciated.
Veny told me that there used to be pirates in that area, who had in their possession a powerful 'magique' that could summon a thick fog. When the victims were lost in the mist, boom! They attacked.
In fact, ships used to sail close to shore to avoid the pirate zone at sea.
When Veny told me that I was startled with fear.
"Don't worry, milady," he said with a smile, "if something happens, I will defend you with my lute."
I smiled. It seemed nice to me that a man considered a lute a defense weapon against a fleet of pirates.
I wondered how dangerous those pirates were. Would they be cruel? I had heard stories that they could take down an entire crew, without remorse, without mercy.
I gulped.
I looked over my shoulder and saw that a group of about four men from the crew kept looking at me. They had been like that all morning, ever since they found out a dark-skin was on board.
"Pay no attention to them," Veny told me with a wide smile.
"People have never looked at me like that before."
"Things are different in the south. I know this because I have traveled throughout the kingdom, and I can say that region is the least intolerant. "
"The least intolerant? But they kill dark-skins just for stealing an apple, unlike the light-skins who only pay one day of jail. "
"I said the least intolerant, not that intolerance didn't exist," Veny clarified. "In the other regions it is worse."
I remembered that in Porto Razza we were forbidden to enter an inn. I nodded slowly.
I glanced back at the group of men. They were still there.
"I think they want to throw me overboard."
"Easy, they wouldn't dare," Veny tried to reassure me.
I've never had those looks given to me before because of my skin color. That was new. And if Veny was telling the truth, things were only going to get worse when we got north.
Spooky.
I had heard stories that the north was the most homogeneous region, racially speaking. The vast majority of people were light-skin, blond. We dark-skinned people were almost nonexistent.
Why? Who knows. There were rumors about death squads, which hunted and killed dark-skinned people. They did it for decades until my people fled the north or died.
What was so much hatred for? One more time, who knows. We dark-skinned people have been associated with witchcraft. And the north is the region most affected by magic. For a long time, they have suffered from the so-called "Eternal Winter", due to a curse from the Wolf King. The last of the sacred beast of the continent.
The wolf king is known to protect the dark-skinned, as they are the true owners of the land in Alba Terra. Or so they say.
I thought the captain of the ship had been very kind to accept me. He could have refused, like the inn that forbade Delilah and me to stay.
Not everyone could hate me just by looking at me. I guess I was lucky.
I wondered how I could become queen when so many people hated me just because of my skin color. Would the people really accept a poor dark-skinned monarch?
"Veny, you have traveled quite a bit, right?" I said almost like a whisper.
"Yes. I think I know almost every town on Alba Terra," he replied proudly, puffing out his chest and clinging to her lute.
"You ... why do you think they hate people like me?"
"Mm ... a difficult question ... but since you ask me, my travels have given me an answer: it is fear."
"But ... why would anyone be afraid of me?"
"Another difficult question whose answer I also found in my travels. Look, milady, fear is born of ignorance. I think there is a close link between familiarity and our way of judging. The more we know something or someone, the more we like it, and the other way around."
"Then…. they hate us because they fear us, and they fear us because they don't know us?"
"Precisely."
I gulped.
The answer seemed logical, but ... was it really that simple?
"Let me tell you, milady," the bard continued, "that fear is learned. At some point, someone was afraid of you people, and then they passed it on to their children and their children to their children and so on, for years and decades. "
I nodded slowly.
"But fear can be unlearned," Veny added with a smile.
Then, he grabbed his lute and approached the group of men who did not take their gaze away from me.
"My lords, would you like to hear a lively tune to brighten up this sunny morning?"
The men looked at each other's faces and nodded slowly, unconvinced.
Veny stroked the strings of his lute, and a rhythmic melody, inviting dance, washed over the deck. Quickly, those hard-eyed men were carried away by the rhythm, and their faces changed to ones of joy.
The wood of the ship's hull thundered from the dance steps.
Veny called me to join the party. I hesitated for a few seconds but ended up joining. The dancing men accepted me. No reproachful looks, no fear.
It is said that dark-skinned people are usually good dancers, I decided that I was going to prove it to be true. After all, in the south, I loved to dance at the Barranca celebrations.
The music helped make the atmosphere in the ship less tense.
Those crewmen did not speak to me during the journey, but at least they were no longer giving me murderous looks. One could say it was a breakthrough.
During the rest of the day, I spent it talking to Veny, listening to his stories. There wasn't much to do at sea, and it turns out that his adventures were quite entertaining. I would have loved for Delilah to have been there with me, enjoying the tales of the bard.
When night fell, a dense mist covered the ship. I found it terrifying. I have never seen such dense fog.
I said goodbye to Veny and went to my cabin, where my cot was waiting for me. When I went to bed, I dedicated my thoughts and prayers to Delilah. As it should be.
"Please ... Saints, I need to know how she is," I whispered before she fell asleep.
And… BOOM!
A crash brought me out of sleep.
What was that?
BOOM! The ship shook.
"Pirates!" I heard they yelled on deck.