She took careful aim at Rodrigo and pulled the trigger. There was a popping sound. Rodrigo shrugged. Diko aimed again, this time at Clavijo. Another pop. Clavijo scratched his head. Aiming at Moger was harder, because he was moving so much as he laid on with the lash. But when she got the shot off, it also struck true. Moger paused and scratched his neck.

It was the weapon of last resort for her, firing these tiny laser-guided missiles that struck and dropped off immediately, leaving behind a dart as tiny as a bee sting. It took only seconds for the drug to reach their brains, quickly damping down their aggression, making them pa.s.sive and lackadaisical. It wouldn't kill anybody, but with the leaders suddenly losing interest, the rest of the mob would cool off.

Cristoforo had never been beaten like this before, not even as a boy. It hurt far worse than any physical pain he had ever suffered before. And yet the pain was also far less than he had feared, because he found that he could bear it. He grunted involuntarily with each blow, but the pain wasn't enough to quell his pride. They would not see the Captain-General beg for mercy or weep under the lash. They would remember how he bore their treachery.

To his surprise, the flogging ended after only a half dozen blows. "Oh, that's enough," said Moger.

It was almost unbelievable. His rage had been so hot only a few moments before, screaming about how Coln had called him a murderer and he'd see what it felt like when Moger actually tried to hurt somebody.

"Cut him down," said Rodrigo. He, too, sounded more calm. Almost bored. It was as if the hate in them had suddenly spent itself.

"I'm sorry, my lord," whispered Andres Yevenes as he untied the knots that held his hands. "They had the guns. What could we boys have done?"

"I know who the loyal men are," whispered Cristoforo.

"What are you doing, Yevenes, telling him what a good boy you are?" demanded Clavijo.

"Yes," said Yevenes defiantly. "I'm not with you."

"Not that anyone cares," said Rodrigo.

Cristoforo could not believe how Rodrigo had changed. He looked uninterested. For that matter, so did Moger and Clavijo, the same kind of dazed look on their faces. Clavijo kept scratching his head.

"Moger, you keep guard on him," said Rodrigo. "You too, Clavijo. You've got the most to lose if he gets away. And you men, put the rest of them into Segovia's cabin."

They obeyed, but everyone was moving slower, and most of the men looked sullen or thoughtful. Without the fire of Rodrigo's rage to drive them, many of them were obviously having second thoughts. What would happen to them when they got back to Palos?

Only now did Cristoforo realize how much the lash had hurt him. When he tried to take a step, he discovered he was dizzy from loss of blood. He staggered. He heard several men gasp, and some murmured. I'm too old for this, thought Cristoforo. If I had to be whipped, it should have happened when I was younger.

Inside his cabin, Cristoforo endured the pain as Master Juan laid on some nasty salve, then laid a light cloth over his back. "Try not to move much," said Juan - as if Cristoforo needed to be told. "The cloth will keep the flies off, so leave it there."

Lying there, Cristoforo thought back over what had happened. They meant to kill me. They were filled with rage. And then, suddenly, they were not even interested in hurting me anymore. What could have caused that, but the Spirit of G.o.d softening their hearts? The Lord does watch over me. He does not want me to die yet.

Moving slowly, gently, so as not to disturb the cloth or cause too much pain, Cristoforo crossed himself and prayed. Can I still fulfill the mission you gave me, Lord? Even after the rape of that girl? Even after this mutiny?

The words came into his mind as clearly as if he were hearing the woman's own voice: "One calamity after another. Until you learn that humility."

What humility was that? What was it he was supposed to learn?

Late in the afternoon, several Tainos from Guacanagari's village made their way over the wall of the stockade - did the white men really think a bunch of sticks were going to be a barrier to men who had been climbing trees since boyhood? - and soon one of them returned to make his report. Diko was waiting for him with Guacanagari.

"The men who are guarding him are asleep."

"I gave them a little poison so they would," said Diko.

Guacanagari glared at her. "I don't see why any of this should be your concern."

None of the others shared their cacique's att.i.tude toward the black shaman-woman from the old mountain village of Ankuash. They were in awe of her, and had no doubt that she could poison anybody she wanted to, at any time.

"Guacanagari, I share your anger," said Diko. "You and your village have done nothing but good for these white men, and see how they treat you. Worse than dogs. But not all the white men are like this. The white cacique tried to punish the men who raped Parrot Feather. That's why the evil men among them have taken away his power and given him such a beating -"

"So he wasn't much of a cacique after all," said Guacanagari.

"He is a great man," said Diko. "Chipa and this young man, Pedro, both know him better than anyone but me."

"Why should I believe this white boy and this tricky lying girl?" demanded Guacanagari.

To Diko's surprise, Pedro had learned enough Taino to be able to speak up and say, clearly, "Because we have seen with our eyes, and you have not."

All of the Taino war council, gathered in the forest within sight of the stockade, were surprised by the fact that Pedro could understand and speak their language. Diko could tell they were surprised, because they showed no expression on their faces and waited in silence until they could speak calmly. Their controlled, impa.s.sive-seeming response reminded her of Hunahpu, and for a moment she felt a terrible pang of grief at having lost him. Years ago, she told herself. It was years ago, and I've already done all my grieving. I am over all feelings of regret.

"The poison will wear off," said Diko. "The evil men among them will remember their anger."

"We will remember our anger, too," said one of Guacanagari's young men.

"If you kill all the white men, even the ones who did no harm, then you are just as bad as they are," said Diko. "I promise you that if you kill in haste, you will be sorry."

She said it quietly, but the menace in her words was real - she could see that they were all considering very carefully. They knew that she had deep powers, and none of them would be reckless enough to oppose her openly.

"Do you dare to forbid us to be men? Will you forbid us to protect our village?" asked Guacanagari.

"I would never forbid you to do anything, " said Diko. "I only ask you to wait and watch a little longer. Soon white men will begin leaving the stockade. I think that first there will be loyal men trying to save their cacique. Then the other good men who don't want to harm your people. You must let them find their way up the mountain to me. I ask you not to hurt them. If they are coming to me, please let them come."

"Even if they're searching for you to kill you?" asked Guacanagari. It was a sly question, leaving him an opening to kill whoever he wanted, claiming he did it in order to protect Sees-in-the-Dark.

"I can protect myself," said Sees-in-the-Dark. "If they are heading up the mountain, I ask you not to hinder or hurt them in any way. You'll know when the only ones left are the evil ones. It will be plain to all of you, not just to one or two. When that day comes, you can act as men should act. But even then, if any of them escape and head for the mountain, I ask you to let them go.

"Not the ones who raped Parrot Feather," said Dead Fish at once. "Never them, no matter what way they run."

"I agree," said Diko. "There is no refuge for them."

Cristoforo awoke in the darkness. There were voices outside his tent. He couldn't hear the words, but he didn't care, either. He understood now. It had come clear to him in his dream. Instead of dreaming about his own suffering, he had dreamed about the girl they had raped and killed. In his dream he saw the faces of Moger and Clavijo as they must have seemed to her, filled with l.u.s.t and mockery and hate. In his dream, he begged them not to hurt her. In his dream, he told them he was just a girl, just a child. But nothing stopped them. They had no mercy.

These are the men I brought to this place, thought Cristoforo. And yet I called them Christian. And the gentle Indians, I called them savages. Sees-in-the-Dark said nothing but the simple truth. These people are the children of G.o.d, waiting only to be taught and baptized in order to be Christian. Some of my men are worthy to be Christians along with them. Pedro has been my example in this all along. He learned to see Chipa's heart when all I or anyone else could see was her skin, the ugliness of her face, her strange manner. If I had been like Pedro in my heart, I would have believed Sees-in-the-Dark, and so I would not have had to suffer these last calamities - the loss of the Pinta, the mutiny, this beating. And the worst calamity of all: my shame at having refused the word of G.o.d because he didn't send the kind of messenger I expected.

The door opened, then closed again quickly. Quiet footsteps approached him.

"If you have come to kill me," said Cristoforo, "be man enough to let me see the face of my murderer."

"Quiet, please, my lord," said the voice. "Some of us have had a meeting. We'll free you and get you out of the stockade. And then we'll fight these d.a.m.ned mutineers and -"

"No," said Cristoforo. "No fighting, no bloodshed."

"What, then? Do we let these men rule over us?"

"The village of Ankuash, up the mountain," said Cristoforo. "I'll go there. The same with all loyal men. Get away quietly, without a fight. Follow the stream up the mountain - to Ankuash. That is the place that G.o.d prepared for us. "

"But the mutineers will build the ship."

"Do you think mutineers could ever build a ship?" asked Cristoforo scornfully. "They'll look each other in the eye, and then look away, because they'll know they can't trust each other."

"That's true, my lord," said the man. "Already some of them are muttering about how Pinzn was interested only in making sure you knew that he wasn't a mutineer. Some of them remembered how the Turk accused Pinzn of helping him."

"A stupid charge," said Cristoforo.

"Pinzn listens when Moger and ClaviJo talk about killing you, and he says nothing," said the man. "And Rodrigo stamps about, cursing and swearing because he didn't kill you this afternoon. We have to get you out of here."

"Help me get to my feet."

The pain was sharp, and he could feel the fragile scabs on some of the wounds break open. Blood was trickling on his back. But it couldn't be helped.

"How many of you are there?" asked Cristoforo.

"Most of the ship's boys are with you," he said. "They were all ashamed of Pinzn today. Some of the officers talk about negotiating with the mutineers, and Segovia talked with Pinzn for a long time, so I think maybe he's trying to work out a compromise. Probably wants to put Pinzn in command -"

"Enough," said Cristoforo. "Everyone is frightened, everyone is doing what he thinks is best. Tell your friends this: I will know who the loyal men are, because they will make their way up the mountain to Ankuash. I will be there, with the woman Sees-in-the-Dark."

"The black witch?"

"There is more of G.o.d in her than in half the so-called Christians in this place," said Cristoforo. "Tell them all - if any man wishes to return to Spain with me as a witness that he was loyal, then he will get away from here and join me in Ankuash."

Cristoforo was standing now, and had his hose on, with a shirt loosely thrown over his back. More clothing than that he couldn't bear, and on this warm night he wouldn't suffer from being so lightly dressed. "My sword," he said.

"Can you carry it?"

"I'm Captain-General of this expedition," said Cristoforo. "I will have my sword. And let it be known - whoever brings me my logbooks and charts will be rewarded beyond his dreams when we return to Spain."

The man opened the door, and both of them looked carefully to see if anyone was watching them. Finally they saw a man - Andres Yevenes, from his lean boyish body - waving for them to come on. Only now did Cristoforo have a chance to see who it was who had come for him. It was the Basque, Juan de la Cosa. The man whose cowardly disobedience had led to the loss of the Santa Maria. "You have redeemed yourself tonight, Juan," said Cristoforo.

Cosa shrugged. "We Basques - you never know what we're going to do."

Leaning on de la Cosa, Cristoforo moved as quickly as he could across the open area to the stockade wall. In the distance, he could hear the laughter and singing of drunken men. That was why he had been so badly guarded.

Andres and Juan were joined by several others, all ship's boys except for Escobedo, the clerk, who was carrying a small chest. "My log," said Cristoforo.

"And your charts," said Escobedo.

De la Cosa grinned at him. "Should I tell him about the reward you promised, or will you, my lord?"

"Which of you are coming with me?" asked Cristoforo.

They looked at each other in surprise. "We thought to help you over the wall," said de la Cosa. "Beyond that ..."

"They'll know I couldn't have done it alone. Most of you should come with me now. That way they won't start searching through the stockade, accusing people of having helped me. They'll think all my friends left with me."

"I'll stay, " said Juan de la Cosa, "so I can tell people the things you told me. All the rest of you, go."

They hoisted Cristoforo up onto the stockade. He braced himself against the pain, and swung down and landed on the other side. Almost at once he found himself face to face with one of the Taino. Dead Fish, if he could tell one Indian from another by moonlight. Dead Fish put his fingers against Cristoforo's lips. Be silent, he was saying.

The others came over the wall much more quickly than Cristoforo had. The only trouble was with the chest containing the logs and charts, but it was eventually handed over the top, followed by Escobedo.

"That's all of us," said Escobedo. "The Basque is already heading back to the drinking before he's missed."

"I fear for his life," said Cristoforo.

"He feared much more for yours."

The Tainos all carried weapons, but they did not brandish them or seem to be threatening in any way. And when Dead Fish took Cristoforo by the hand, the Captain-General followed him toward the woods.

Diko carefully removed the bandages. The healing was going well. She thought ruefully of the small quant.i.ty of antibiotics she had left. Oh, well. She had had enough for this, and with any luck she wouldn't need any more.

Cristoforo's eyes fluttered.

"So you aren't going to sleep forever after all," said Diko.

His eyes opened, and he tried to lift himself from the mat. He fell back at once.

"You're still weak," she said. "The flogging was bad enough, but the journey up the mountain wasn't good for you. You aren't a young man anymore."

He nodded weakly.

"Go back to sleep. Tomorrow you'll feel much better."

He shook his head. "Sees-in-the-Dark," he began.

"You can tell me tomorrow."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Tomorrow."

"You are a daughter of G.o.d," he said. It was hard for him to speak, to get the breath for it, to form the words. But he formed them. "You are my sister. You are a Christian."

"Tomorrow," she said.

"I don't care about the gold," he said.

"I know," she answered.

"I think you come to me from G.o.d," he said.