A serf with an awful birthmark on his face stood behind his chief on the ship's deck. As they observed the people around them, the torches made their long shadows danced. All the while, the winds from the east hammered the ship Nao Victoria. As they bid their time, the servant remained stoic as rock but it was clear that his master's patience was fraying thin. After all, Datu Zullah had a grand plan to enact, unlike the men sitting on the raised dais opposite him. But still, the honorable chief had to show the corpulent Rajah and the imposing Captain General the respect they both thought they deserve. He needed to for his scheme against his rival to work.

  "Is that so?" Humabara said as he turned to glance at Magalhaes. He was listening intently to Pigafetta's poor efforts of translating the Malay language. And the man was awfully quiet and still beside him.

  Zullah smiled. Did the news struck Magalhaes that hard? the chief thought. If that was the case then things would proceed as they intended it to.

  Humabara turned to Zullah. "They are not even afraid that we may want recompense for their actions?" He let the words hang a little bit longer.

  Zullah shook his head. It was time to seize the moment. "They seem to look at it as a joke. And empty threats will never scare them. Balat here, could testify to that." He shifted his head to where his serf stood. And he affirmed his master's words.

  Humabara raised his jowls higher. "I expected him to be reasonable and talk things out. Perhaps, act like a datu for once!" He struck the armrest of his chair, spilling the cup of wine he placed there a moment ago.

  "He said he's ready to fight it out." Zullah lied, glancing at the Captain General and gauging his reaction. But the man was awfully quiet. Zullah began to doubt his own approach. Maybe, he had to play it better. Worst has he realized the scam? He sighed. "I know this is our problem, Magalhaes. But Kalipulako said that you can join your men's bodies buried on a shallow grave on the shores of Opon Matan if you're really willing. I'm sorry. I feel guilty to bring this burden of ours to you. But..."

  Magalhaes' head snapped up, after hearing Pigafetta's words. Then, he eyed Datu Zullah for a breath and the datu saw hatred in him. Hatred so pure and distilled it was unnerving. It made Zullah inwardly happy. Things were about to go to his favor.

  ***

  Pigafetta wiped the sweat off his forehead. He was having trouble translating the language for Magalhaes to understand. He knew the importance of this exchange and now he regretted the time he wasted not practicing the native's language as best he could. He had not taken the opportunity to fully learn the native dialect's nuances when Mallaca was still present to teach him. Now, every unfamiliar word the native uttered seemed so alien to him. At times, he had to ask Datu Zullah to elaborate. And it was difficult. But he was determined to overcome the trouble as best he could.

  Pigafetta finished the translation to Magalhaes with a sigh of relief.

  "What about Mallaca? Did you find him?" Magalhaes said, addressing the hook-nosed datu.

  Zullah shook his head. "No. I'm deeply sorry. He might be–"

  Magalhaes eyes widened after realizing what might have happened to his translator. "Then, we will not disappoint Kalipulako," the Captain General said. "His arrogance will be his end." Magalhaes turned to call the pot-belly man on the stern of ship.

  Sergeant Mortez took it as his cue to step forward. "Yar orders, sir?"

  When Magalhaes spoke, he was barely in control of his emotion. "Tell our soldiers to sharpen their blades and be ready." He leaned in his cushioned chair, finger pointing at the dull sergeant's face. "We will teach this datu how we deal with insolent and ungodly men. Our crew will be avenged and Kalipulako's head will be on the end of a lance before we depart this land."

  The Sergeant smiled and nodded as he walked to the crew's quarter. He proceeded to scream the orders to every unwilling ear in the ship with the efficiency of a pig who's about to be slaughtered.

  "How will we do that?" Humabara said after letting the pallid man named Pigafetta catch his breath from awkwardly translating Magalhaes' words.

  "You have to trust me with that, brother," Magalhaes said, clasping the Rajah's hand.

  Humabara nodded.

  "After I'm finished with him and his people you will no longer fear his banditry," Magalhaes added as he looked Datu Zullah in the eye. The hawkish leader gave a satisfied smile when Magalhaes finally looked away. Then, the Captain General stood from his cushioned seat. "Excuse me, I need to be ready to join my men. I'll be back shortly.

  Magalhaes left both men behind him as he entered his cabin. While Duarte Barboza followed him like a black cat.

  "I'll need... to be ready too, great rajah," Pigafetta said, wiping the sweat on his face with his sleeve. He gave a bow towards Humabara and to Datu Zullah. "I'll be... back as soon as I can." And then, he walked towards the door that led to the lower decks of the ship Victoria.

  Zullah sat closer to Humabara. "I've sent their translator to Zubu for safe keeping," he whispered.

  "Excellent, did you dispose of them efficiently?" Humabara took a jug of wine and poured it on a cup. He offered the drink to his friend.

  "There will be no trace of them." Zullah took the offered cup but setting it aside.

  "Now, we wait and watch."

  "Yes," Zullah said, he raised his hand and his peculiar slave approached him. "Balat... go and see to it that Halang and his men do their part precisely as I told them to." He took the worn brown scroll offered by the serf and place it on the torch beside him. The angry fire swallowed the parchment and all but ash remained of the missive.

  "Why did you bother sending that fake message to Pulaco? Would it be an advantage if we just let Magalhaes attack him without warning?"

  "Ah, right," Zullah said. "You see this is all a game my friend. You know, we could just beat him ourselves. Ambush him. But that would tarnish both our reputation. If we do it stealthily and let someone else do the hard work then Kalipulako will fall. Would it not be more enjoyable to see them fight like this?" He smiled.

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  Humabara shifted in his seat. "We must capitalize on every small thing to defeat Kalipulako decisively. I'm not sure this would work. There would be more trouble if he survives this. If he wins and discover our plot."

  "Don't worry my friend. Magalhaes' men shall be the anvil and mine and Halang's shall be the hammer. We will end Kalipulako. Your pale friend's only use is to tire and weaken Mandawili's datu before we make the kill."

  Humabara nodded, lips twisting into a smile. "You are truly a font of wisdom in these things, my friend."

  "I am just a practical man."

  "What if Magalhaes changes his mind? What if he withdraw them?"

  "They can do that and they could simply provide distraction for us to carry out our trap, " Zullah added. He took a small bamboo vial with a cork stopper and gave it to Rajah Humabara.

  "What's this?" the corpulent man said as he studied the vial in his palm.

  "It's for the infestation you have."

  "Ah, the vermin in my house."

  "Yes. It's a simple gift I procured to unburden you." Zullah gave him a grin, baring all his sharp teeth just like a bull shark. "Be careful with it. May mananambal say... it is very potent. After all, it's distilled from makasla herbs. One drop will wipe out the white rats that's been irritating you."

  "I know your healer is one of the best in this region. But are you sure this would work to the foreigners? They seemed like hardy men."

  "I am sure as the deepest hell-hole of Sulad. But I hope you use it wisely."

  Humabara smiled as he inspected his gift in the torches' light one more time. "They'll never see this coming."

  ***

  Magalhaes went inside his cabin. He was irritated and angry at the news that Datu Zullah brought. Miguel, Mallaca and the others still had their use. Killing them was uncalled for. Their deaths will skew his plans. He had to think this through before moving on. He swung the door shut behind him but instead of hearing a loud bang he heard footsteps. He turned back to shout at the foolish crewman who strayed and ventured inside his private domain but instead he found someone else.

  "Why risk your men's lives to fight someone else's fight?" Barboza leaned on the door, wooden chalice in hand. "We have no part in their petty squabbles."

  Magalhaes opened the trunk where his weapons and armor were kept. "Apart from the fact that they started it first? Well, I made a promise and it shall be done." He examined the Italian's gift but place it back. It was not the blade he needed. He took his trusty sword instead. "Unless of course you would volunteer..."

  Barboza laughed. "Not a chance. Even for the king of thy mother land. Not a chance in the world."

  "And I thought I had the answer of finally getting rid of you."

  "Ah, hitting two birds with one stone?"

  "Exactly."

  "Hahaha. Let our men handle it. Let Delcano or some upstart dullard deal with it."

  "No. This is an example! No one fucks with me like this. No one. I'll make them regret this. I'll be the end of that Kalipulako."

  "Have you forgotten about our mission here, Fernao'? We're just here for only one reason, that's to collect enough supplies so we can continue our journey to Mollucas. You said that yourself. We're here so we can continue to chase glory and fame. Things that you promised us before we started this journey of yours."

  "I know," Magalhaes paused, "and I have never forgotten. But we must earn every grain they give us." He raised the golden anklet Humabara gave him for Duarte to see. "You've seen the wealth they have here. We may never need to go to the Spice islands if we gain a foothold here. All you need to do is do the thing you're good at. Earn their trust and then live like kings." He stared at Barboza with eyes aflame with the madness of greed. "Glory is at hand." He let his words sink in. He could never guess how a man like Duarte Barboza thought of things but he was glad he knew the man's weakness.

  Barboza took a sip from his chalice. "I could never put my trust on them pagans. Unchristian and ungodly."

  Magalhaes raised a brow. "You've never struck me as the religious type nor a trusting fellow. Not since I first met you all drunk in a brothel with three whores on top of you."

  "Don't worry I'm still not." Barboza raised his hands placatingly, a glint of playfulness in his eyes. "I just want to convince you as best I could. I just want to change your mind."

  "Why do you hate them so much?"

  "I don't hate them."

  Magalhaes laughed. "Then, why would you readily abandon them in their time of need?"

  "In their time of need? How about my needs?" Barboza walked inside and stopped to open the small window of the cabin. The wailing wind accompanied by the lapping sound of the wild sea swells rushed inside Magalhaes' cabin. "And why worry about their needs?" Barboza said. "When I should be looking out for ours. As you should. You know they're all creatures of the fields, barbaric, and primitive..." Barboza closed the window to bar the noise outside.

  "And let me guess, untrustworthy?"

  "Unpredictable. I only see animals in them. I only see cattle and sheep that's waiting for the slaughter. I see only slaves, lesser men and lesser women," he spat the last word. "Too stupid to understand and too naive. Indios."

  "Is the famed swordsman, Duarte Barboza... afraid of mere heathens?"

  "No, I just know what they are. They're too volatile. One moment they're your friend with smiles and compliments... The next, they snarl and spit at your corpse. Dying for them ain't worth it."

  "How about for gold... and glory?"

  "Not today."

  "It seems that the tropical climate has change your attitude towards certain things. Ah, Duarte Barboza... A changed man!?" Magalhaes inspected his short sword before he sheathed it in his leather scabbard. "But I think you're wrong."

  "Oh, I am suddenly out of a drink. But, kindly humor an esteemed gentleman like me as to why I am wrong."

  "I see potential in them, Duarte. And with God upon them they'll achieve it. We will see to it that they do so!"

  Barboza sighed. "This is stretching things too thin. Do you even believe what you're saying?"

  "Yes, I do. Imagine a colony here, manned by you and I and you'll see this risk is worth taking. They all just need a proper man to lead them."

  Duarte smiled a vulpine smile. "Man like... you?"

  "No. I much prefer an esteemed gentleman to lead them."

  "I like the sound of that, but how about this Kalipulako that the natives talk of?"

  "What of him? He's just a bully and a thug waiting to be punish. A common bandit." He tapped the hilt of his blade. "And we have a common solution."

  Barboza placed the empty wooden chalice on a small table filled with maps of different sizes. "I've spent a lot of time talking to the Rajah's servants and they say he is a bagani, a warrior with no match. A hero in every sense of the word. They say or perhaps the word is whisper that he has not yet failed in battle. An intelligent and brave leader, a just man. Far from what our friend Zullah told us."

  Magalhaes nodded as though he already knew it a long time ago.

  Barboza smiled. "What do you think, Fernao'?

  "He's a complicated man, then. Not the font of evil that Zullah suggested." He looked Barboza in the eye. "Just like a real person should be and not some fiend from someone's fairy tale. Just like you and me and everyone else." He paused to holster his matchlock pistol on his hip, "And maybe he'll bleed too... just like you and me and everyone else."

  "Well, I just hope you're right about that," Barboza said as he walked to the cabin's door, "Because there's no turning back if you decide to battle this bagani."

  "Ah, that's why I need you more than ever."

  Barboza raised a brow, half surprised by Magalhaes' words. "What do you mean?"

  "You will lead the assault from the rear flank to ensure things go exactly as it's supposed to." Magalhaes took the chalice from the table and threw it to Barboza.

  The sleazy captain caught it with surprising ease. "We'll have to use the boats for that."

  "Yes, all of them. We'll attack them from every angle," the Captain General finished.

  "I'm still not sold about the idea of fighting them. But I'll be there for you, brother. Maybe, I'll finally get the chance to say 'I told you so'." He smiled at Magalhaes and exited the doorway, whistling a haunting tune.

  Magalhaes faced the mirror, lips slowly forming a smile. He knew the weakness of men like Duarte Barboza. "Give them a spot where they could shine and they'll follow you like a dog salivating for more bones. Vanity is such a cruel mistress." He walked out the door of his cabin with his boot heels echoing like a hammer nailing a coffin shut, never to return again. Never knowing what lies before him...