As the thought struck De La Cosa's mind, his heart jumped, and his expression turned grave. If they were just an ordinary rchant ship caught by the Portuguese Navy, at most they would have to forfeit so cargo, losing a bit of money. But if they were the official navy of Castile, given the current neutral and slightly adversarial relations between the two countries during the truce, they might be detained and interrogated for a while before being released back to the Kingdom of Castile.
But now, they were an exploration fleet returning from the ocean with crucial, invaluable intelligence on new trade routes! And what the Portuguese people had been tirelessly striving for was to open up new routes to reach the wealthy East! The value of this information and its serious consequences were significant enough for the Portuguese to disregard any underlying rules of the Catholic World... In such a situation, if they were caught by the Portuguese Navy, the dreadful consequences...
"rciful Lord! Please watch over us!..."
De La Cosa clenched his fists tightly and uttered a devout prayer. Then, without explaining anything, he turned to sailor Luis with a stern face and instructed.
"Luis, I'm feeling uneasy... go ashore once more! Take so of the cotton threads we've loaded back and give them to the local young fishern and farrs, and try to gather so information about the local manor lords and sheriff... Be careful, don't reveal our true mission, just say we're a rchant ship!..."
"Yes, Captain!..."
Seeing the captain's serious expression, sailor Luis also beca tense. He took the cotton threads, pulled at his sweat-soaked short jacket, nimbly climbed over the ship's side, slid down the rope ladder, and returned to the small boat they had rowed in. Behind him, he could vaguely hear the captain's urgent shouts and orders.
"Pedro! Is the mizzen sail repaired? ... Ah! I don't need a perfect repair, just enough to last two weeks!..."
"Hurry! Load the replenished fresh water and food onto the ship! Ration the supplies! Just endure for ten more days! Only ten days! ... For the next ten days, we won't dock, we'll steer away from the coast and head south... Once we safely return to Seville, I'll treat each and every one of you to a feast, drinks, and won! ... Almighty witness! I'm buying!..."
"What, Commander Columbus wants to co out for so air? Making a fuss at a ti like this... His wounds aren't fully healed, let him rest and recover!..."
"Oh right! Keep an eye on the last two natives! Keep them locked in the hold, they mustn't show their faces on deck!..."
"Quick! Send a few more people to the rivermouth to gather additional fresh water!..."
The sky gradually darkened, the setting sun dipped into the Western Sea, and the fishing boats returned with the sound of cheerful folk songs. The pale red evening glow brushed over the grey and yellow mountain cliffs, reluctant to linger. When sailor Luis appeared before Captain De La Cosa again, he brought with him a young agricultural slave with a sunburnt neck. Those innocent eyes wandered around, full of curiosity, longing, and desire.
"Hmm? Luis, who is he?"
"Captain, his na is Little Paul, and he says he has important information. He saw our cotton threads and wants to join the ship, to stick with us and make a fortune!..."
Sailor Luis gestured and heavily patted Little Paul's head. Little Paul hurriedly knelt on the deck, calling "Sir Captain," kowtowing several tis, and then spilled a stream of Portuguese words.
"Hmm? Information related to us and the bailiff?..."
As an experienced captain, De La Cosa had visited Portugal many tis and naturally understood Portuguese. After listening for a mont, he regarded the eagerly anticipating Little Paul with a slightly skeptical look and promised with a smile.
"Little Paul, go ahead! As long as the information you provide is valuable, I'll take you on board and help you make a fortune!..."
"Holy Mother! Thank you, Sir Captain! The captain is rciful! The captain is generous!..."
Upon hearing this, Little Paul repeatedly kowtowed, joyfully smiling, completely disregarding whether he was boarding a scoundrel ship, or akin to enlisting in a nation's army in its final days. As a descendant of the most common and nurous agricultural slaves in the Middle Ages, from the mont he was born, he was bound by a servitude contract with the manor, predetermining the trajectory of his life: living in a shabby shack on the lords' manor, subsisting on oatal and wild greens, working like a beast for the lords!
He had no personal freedom, no right to marry, and could be easily sentenced or even executed by the bailiff. He had to toil all year round: planting in the spring, brewing in the sumr, digging channels in the autumn, tending livestock in the winter, for twenty to thirty years, until dying of exhaustion. He couldn't leave the manor's twenty-mile boundary without becoming a runaway slave; no legitimate village would take him in, forcing him to flee into the mountain forest to beco a bandit, eventually chased down by sheriffs or passing knights for a bounty. However, if he managed to please the bailiff, he might marry a village girl that the bailiff disdained or tired of, and earn the chance to have offspring. But if he had children, they'd still be agricultural slaves on the manor, enduring the sa fate...
To these lower-class agricultural slaves of the Middle Ages, the only rumored chance to break free, to change one's destiny, was to join a large ship at sea! Only by boarding a large ship could they escape the unbreakable agrarian order, eluding the pursuit of the bailiff and the sheriff! Then, they could follow the captain towards wealth, accumulating enough money, eventually settling down in a comrcial City-State, becoming a citizen, turning into an upper-class person there...
"Praise the Holy Mother! Praise the Sir Captain!... Ah! Yes, I won't ramble, won't ramble... Last night, I saw the bailiff riding his mule... heading east overnight! That mule, I fed it yesterday morning, filled it with beans, it can run non-stop for a day..."
"Ah? What would he be doing in the East? I... I don't know... But the bailiff watched your large ship for a long ti yesterday... Then... then suddenly decided to leave overnight!..."
"Think harder?... Uh... Ah!... Right! The tax collectors, they always ca by that road too! Riding horses, carrying guns!..."
Upon hearing this, De La Cosa shuddered, his face turning ashen. He stared fixedly towards the East, where behind the coastal cliffs lay low valleys and plains, undulating mountain forests. Further east, over a hundred miles away, lay the direct dominion of the Portuguese Royal Family, the duchy of Coimbra, likely with a garrison stationed by the Royal Family.
"Damn it! The bailiff has gone to inform! Our whereabouts will definitely be known by the Portuguese Royal Family!..."
"Hurry! Raise the sails, pull up the anchor! We can't stay here! We'll set sail imdiately, first fleeing into the waters to the west, then south... sail through the night!..."
"Lord! Please watch over us! Protect us to return to the Kingdom of Castile... We carry the Archbishop's hope, the Queen's command, and hold information that can change the Catholic World... We cannot, by any ans, be caught by the Portuguese Navy!..."
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