Inzunza leaned against one of the stones that had once been used to ritually behead victims. His arms were crossed as he stared at Skippy.

  “So then, Lieutenant Inzunza,” said the elf, “what have you decided? Will you grant me the courtesy of a duel?”

  Inzunza smiled and glanced discreetly around him. Yanga, the soldiers, the auxiliary troops, the prisoners of the Garnor, and several native servants surrounded the scene without blinking. Kwame knelt in chains, watching expectantly.

  “I believe a pirate such as yourself is hardly in a position to set conditions,” the lieutenant replied.

  “That much became clear some time ago… but why deny a dead man his final wish? Do you accept the challenge?” said Skippy. “If I win, I reveal the secret of the treasure — but you must spare Kwame’s life and that of the prisoners. If I lose… burn both our feet, and may God have mercy on the rest.”

  “You know I can obtain that information without dirtying my hands,” Inzunza answered.

  A murmur rippled through the crowd.

  “It would be an epic memory for posterity. At the moment… before your men, you seem to fear me.”

  The murmuring grew louder. Inzunza straightened and took several steps toward him.

  “I fear no pirate,” he said, threateningly.

  “Then?” Skippy asked with a mocking smile.

  The lieutenant drew a deep breath and looked at the assembled crowd.

  “At dawn,” he declared.

  The Garnor prisoners began muttering nervously.

  “God will aid us,” said Smith.

  “We’re finished,” growled Mike Hatcher.

  Inzunza began issuing orders for the morning. He summoned Yanga, and the two of them walked away in conversation.

  Skippy was chained beside Kwame.

  “You have sealed your fate, Captain. Forgive me for dragging you into this…”

  Skippy smiled.

  “Mr. Baptiste, spare me the sentimental speeches,” he said. “In a few hours we shall settle this matter. If you love your feet, you’d best pray to your gods. Try to sleep.”

  He leaned against the stele and fixed his gaze upon a bright point in the sky. He sighed and murmured:

  “Midgard…”

  When the square finally cleared, Sammy, Kayin, and Trumper moved swiftly.

  “Come on, sea rats,” said Trumper.

  They began lowering the weapons into the shaft. At last they prepared to leave, but Sammy paused at the edge.

  “I’ll have to stay,” she said.

  “Are you mad? This isn’t a Red Falcon novel,” Kayin said.

  “It’s necessary if we’re to preserve the secrecy of the escape,” Sammy replied. “In fact, if the Garnor crew is summoned to witness the duel, no one can flee.”

  “He’s right… they’d hunt us like rabbits and hang us all,” Trumper muttered.

  “Then what?” Kayin demanded. “We have a tunnel and can’t even use it?”

  Sammy looked at him.

  “In one chapter of The Red Falcon, two crews are prisoners of the Great Sultan. But the crew of the Albatross is summoned to witness Falcon’s execution. They dig a tunnel — yet the crew stays inside. The other group escapes, attacks the fortress, and creates chaos and distraction. During the execution, the Albatross crew rebels, rescues Falcon, and everyone escapes… We can do the same.”

  “You do realize this isn’t a novel?” Kayin said.

  “Then what do you propose, Mr. Worthy?” asked the boatswain.

  “That the men from the redoubt flee, and once outside, they support us by firing upon the walls to create distraction.”

  The boatswain pondered for a few seconds.

  “It’s risky… but it makes sense.” he said.

  Kayin looked confused, unconvinced; Sammy, meanwhile, smiled optimistically.

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  “You inform the other prisoners,” she said. “When the moment comes, I’ll give the signal for them to begin the distraction from outside.”

  “Have you lost your mind? Better flee at once,” Kayin insisted.

  “It is necessary,” Trumper added. “If they attack before the duel, the Spaniards will be on guard. If after… they’ll be prepared. It must be precisely when all eyes are fixed upon the event.”

  Kayin pressed his lips together, trying to process it.

  “They must see nothing unusual,” Sammy added.

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Kayin asked.

  “Yes… hurry,” the girl urged, turning to slide the dresser back over the shaft.

  “And who will tie you up?” Kayin pressed.

  Sammy smiled.

  “I’ll use an old trick we practiced when we used to play pirates on Isla Negra… Go.”

  She shoved the heavy piece of furniture into place. The boy and the boatswain remained in the dim tunnel, lit by the lantern.

  “Let’s hurry. Worthy is brave — he’ll pull through,” said the boatswain, and the two of them moved off.

  Sammy ran to sit in the chair, fastening the ropes about herself with a clever series of knots that gave the illusion she was tightly bound. She sighed and looked up at the ceiling, where the chandelier hung with a few candles dripping wax onto the floor. Then she turned to the portrait of the King of England, who stared back at her from behind a mustache and beard crudely sketched in charcoal by the Spaniards.

  After some time, when the chandelier candles had burned out, the door opened and a soldier entered with a lantern.

  “Hey, here’s one of those fellows,” he said.

  Another soldier approached.

  “He’s the ensign’s prisoner. He’ll decide her fate… but he’s busy with the lieutenant.”

  The soldier shrugged and left, shutting the door and leaving Sammy in shadow once more. She exhaled softly and waited, listening to the scurrying of rats.

  Meanwhile, the boatswain and Kayin returned to the storehouse and began hauling up muskets and knives.

  “Well, gentlemen, the duel will take place at dawn,” the boatswain whispered.

  “And what’s all this mystery with that hole?” Larry asked, stepping closer.

  Two of the Garnor men blocked his path, prompting several from the redoubt to rise to their feet.

  “What’s happening there?” another demanded, craning on tiptoe.

  “Private matters,” Goodwin said.

  “Private matters? As if you were in your own home… move aside,” Larry snapped.

  The redoubt men tried to push through. Shoving turned to threats, and soon fists were flying.

  “Enough!” ordered the boatswain. “It’s time we reach an agreement if we want to leave this place.”

  All the pirates gathered… and their eyes widened at the sight of the ancient shaft gaping in the floor like a passage to the underworld.

  “Well, well. You found it,” Larry said. “We knew there were tunnels — just not the entrance.”

  They began jostling to get closer; tempers flared once more.

  “Stand still,” Trumper said. As he spoke, he and several men raised their muskets. The people of Xul-Kan instinctively stepped back.

  “They’re armed…”

  “I recognize that musket,” one muttered.

  Larry stood before the redoubt group and stroked his gray beard thoughtfully.

  “So you managed to enter the armory,” he said.

  “It seems Toby — and perhaps Kwame — knew of its existence,” Trumper replied.

  Voices erupted.

  “Silence!” Larry commanded. “We have a way out. What’s the plan?”

  “The Spaniards won’t let us flee just like that,” someone argued.

  The boatswain raised his voice.

  “We know the duel is at dawn. That is when you will take your chance to escape.”

  “Why not now, while it’s night?” asked a one-eyed pirate.

  “Because when they come for us, they’ll discover the scheme,” Trumper answered.

  “But we’ll already be far away,” said a woman carrying a baby.

  “We must save our own… and the captain,” Kayin said.

  “That’s your problem,” a redoubt pirate replied.

  “Kwame is there,” Kayin insisted.

  Murmurs spread. The English pirates shrugged.

  “Bad luck for the black,” one said.

  The Black prisoners exchanged glances and stepped forward, menacing.

  “Why don’t you stay instead?” one of them shot back.

  “Ingrates. We gave you work and didn’t turn you in as fugitives,” an Englishman retorted.

  “We’re in chains same as you,” an Afro-Caribbean answered.

  The argument grew heated.

  “Easy, easy,” Larry said, raising his hands. “No one is left behind. We all leave — or none do.”

  Silence fell.

  “Explain, Mr. Trumper,” said the master of stores.

  “The escape happens during the duel,” Trumper said. “You will exit through that tunnel, which leads beyond the walls.”

  “Unarmed, in broad daylight? Better tell the Spaniards to hunt us like rabbits,” one scoffed.

  “You’re asking us to be moving targets while you flee?” a woman protested.

  Voices rose again until tension tightened the air.

  “Silence,” Larry ordered. “Let him finish.”

  Trumper cleared his throat.

  “We will remain,” he said, “for they will take us to witness the duel. Meanwhile, you escape. You will have ample time — the entire citadel will be watching the event. You can reach the forest.”

  Larry stroked his beard.

  “It makes sense… We can shelter in the jungle.”

  “And avoid the kisin,” a woman added.

  An approving murmur passed through the crowd.

  “And you?” someone asked. “You cannot carry muskets to the event.”

  “We cannot… but you can,” Trumper replied.

  They exchanged puzzled glances.

  “Once outside,” Trumper continued, “we attack. At that moment, one of ours will signal you. Then you fire upon the walls from the forest — create confusion, divide the Spaniards.”

  The pirates murmured among themselves.

  “You’ll have the jungle for cover,” Trumper repeated. “Just make noise when you see the signal.”

  “I don’t want to die,” Ford sobbed.

  One of the pirates struck him to silence him.

  “Your plan,” Larry said, “is bizarre… and dangerous.”

  “Have you a better one? One that doesn’t involve fleeing like hens only to be hunted down and hanged facing the sea?” Trumper snapped.

  The people of Xul-Kan fell silent.

  “Gentlemen, grant us a moment,” Larry said.

  They withdrew to the far end of the warehouse and whispered among themselves. Occasionally their voices rose, but quickly hushed again.

  Trumper and Kayin tried to listen, catching nothing. At last they returned.

  “We’ll do it,” Larry said. “After all… we owe you the way out.”

  “That’s right, lads. We’ll be eternally grateful,” another added.

  “You can count on us,” said a third.

  Agreement rippled through them.

  The insurrection was set.

  Just then chains and locks clanked at the door. Everyone rushed to their positions, feigning normalcy.

  Spanish soldiers peered inside.

  “Keep quiet, or we burn you alive!” they shouted, slamming the door and securing it once more.

  Moments later, inside the warehouse, whispers could be heard. Shadows moved along the walls as pirates bent close to murmur in one another’s ears.

  “They’re conspiring,” Goodwin whispered.

  “So I suspect,” said the boatswain. “What do you think, Cade?”

  “They sound about as sincere as the devil saying Mass,” Cade rasped.

  “Gentlemen, keep one eye open,” Trumper said. “Do not be surprised if they try to kill us in the night to make their escape.”