PREVIOUSLY (Chapter 136)
[Year 12 of the SuaChie Calendar, Eighth Month.
Western Sea of the Archipelago of the Three Islands (Philippines).
…
"Pirates?" Quihicha asked, arching a brow. "Ships that rob other ships? Without law or sovereign?"
"Precisely," Columbus replied, collapsing his spyglass with a sharp click. "And they seem to think us a slow whale laden with treasure."
Tension gripped the deck. The Spanish sailors began to unsheath their swords and prime their arquebuses, while the Suaza prepared methodically, as they had practiced in previous engagement simulations.
Columbus knew they were in a perilous position. They did not know these waters well enough for a swift retreat to the south, and should they attempt to flee northward, they would face head-on the four vessels gaining ground with every passing minute. The pirates of Mai sought no diplomacy; they sought the steel, the timber, and the lives carried by the Tequendama I. The first combat in the Sunset Ocean was about to begin.]
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Year 12 of the SuaChie Calendar, Eighth Month.
Western Sea of the Archipelago of the Three Islands (Philippines), aboard the Tequendama I (Spanish Delegation).
The Southeast Asian sun fell like molten lead upon the deck of the Tequendama I, yet none among the crew felt the heat. The sweat soaking the linen shirts of the Spaniards and the light tunics of the Suaza mariners was the product of a tension that threatened to erupt at any second.
Christopher Columbus, his silvering hair fluttering in the salt breeze, kept his gaze fixed upon the northern horizon, where three dark silhouettes cut across the sea line with alarming persistence.
The Spanish delegation, having briefly separated from the English and Portuguese contingents to survey for potential settlements, now found itself in a critical state. They had skirted the eastern coast from the Island of Unity, rounding the north of the three great islands with the intent of mapping a safe harbor for future expeditions. However, upon entering the western waters of the archipelago, the hunter had become the prey.
"Lookouts, report!" Columbus roared, his voice echoing with the authority of one who had tamed the Sunrise Ocean (Atlantic), but who now faced a different breed of monster.
"They hold their distance, Admiral!" one of the men shouted from the fighting top. "But they have gained two knots in the last hour! Their sails are strange; they do not seem to labor against the headwind!"
Columbus closed his spyglass with a sharp snap, a gesture concealing the anxiety seething in his chest. Those ships—the pirate junks of Ma-i—were vessels of dark, reddish wood, with multiple masts supporting sails of woven matting. Unlike European canvas, these appeared as rigid fans that captured even the faintest sigh of air, granting the pirates a maneuverability that the heavy but majestic Tequendama I could hardly match.
Beside him, Quihicha, the Suaza Navy officer tasked with overseeing the operation of the vessel gifted by Chuta, remained imperturbable. His copper-hued face was a mask of discipline, though his eyes scanned the swells, searching for treachery in the color of the water.
"Quihicha," Columbus said, lowering his voice. "These demons know every rock in this labyrinth. The Tequendama I is a whale compared to their sharks. If we attempt to double back north, they will cut us off. If we press south, we enter waters my charts have yet to christen."
Quihicha said nothing, appearing to weigh their options with the resources at hand.
Luis, Columbus's young aide, approached with a pale face but firm hands upon the pommel of his sword. "Sir, the men are ready. The lines are taut and the arquebuses loaded. But they are three to our one. We must decide whether to give battle now or strain the sails until the mast groans."
Columbus weighed the choices. They could attempt to ram them, leveraging the superior tonnage of the Suaza ship, but he knew not if the pirates carried artillery. The second option, to continue the course, was a suicidal gamble in an archipelago choked with reefs and unknown currents.
"Let us speak of the Juracán," Columbus said, referring to the potent Suaza cannons mounted on the broadsides. "Can we trust a single flank to settle this?"
Quihicha sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Admiral, the issue is not power, but specialization. I have only two Suaza operators fully trained in the mixing of powder and the calculation of trajectories in motion... Your men are brave and have practiced, but the munitions the Kingdom granted us for this exploration are limited. The bulk of the shot and powder remains on the Suaza-commanded ships. We cannot afford warning shots. If the Juracán roars, it must be to sink."
Columbus nodded, grasping the gravity of the situation. The Suaza Kingdom, ever cautious with its technology, had not filled the holds with powder for fear of it falling into the wrong hands during the voyage.
"We shall not use the artillery yet," Columbus decided. "Maintain the course. If we squander our technical advantage now and fail, we shall be boarded before dusk. I know not how these men of the Far East fight, and I have no desire to learn it with my blood."
Quihicha was slightly surprised by the European's caution. He had expected Columbus, driven by the fervor he usually displayed in his discourses on faith and conquest, to order a frontal assault.
"It is a wise decision, Admiral," the Suaza officer remarked. "However, permit me a warning. In the Sea of Floating Islands (Caribbean), we have learned that archipelagos are treacherous. The currents here shift with the tide, and there are obstacles beneath the surface that appear on no map. I recommend doubling the lookouts. We need eyes that seek not only sails, but the change of color in the foam."
"Let it be done!" Columbus ordered. "Luis, send two more men to the mainmast! Have them use the polished lens spyglasses! Helmsman, heed every cry from aloft!"
The deck became a hive of controlled activity. Sailors adjusted the rigging, ensuring every inch of cloth captured the wind. From below, shouts confirmed the powder was dry and the projectiles ready. Columbus and Quihicha took their positions on the poop deck, watching as the three pirate ships seemed to toy with them.
Two hours later.
Two hours passed in an agony of anticipation. The pirates had executed a maneuver that Columbus initially interpreted as a retreat toward the coast, but Quihicha, with vision trained on the shores of Great Quyca, recognized the danger.
"They are not leaving," Quihicha whispered. "They have taken a coastal counter-current. Look how they skim the reefs."
It was true. Using a shortcut through coral formations that would have shattered the hull of a traditional European ship—or the Tequendama I itself—the junks had now positioned themselves less than half a mile away. The spyglass was no longer needed to see the figures moving on their decks: bare-chested men armed with curved swords and spears, whose war cries began to filter through over the crashing of the waves.
Luis approached again, this time with an urgency that brooked no delay. "Admiral, they will be within crossbow range in ten minutes. If we do not act, they will cast their grappling hooks. The Tequendama I stands high, but they are many."
Columbus looked to Quihicha. The Suaza officer was staring at a fixed point ahead, where the water boiled in a white line over a submerged reef that stretched out like a natural barrier.
"Admiral Columbus," Quihicha said with a coldness that chilled the blood. "Ahead, the sea offers us an opportunity. If we hold straight, we shall run aground. But if we veer now, we will be broadside to the pirates, exposing our strongest flank."
"What is your proposal, Officer?" Columbus asked, gripping the wooden rail, not yet grasping Quihicha's intent.
"We shall use the reef as an anchor and as a shield," Quihicha explained rapidly. "We will perform a dynamic braking maneuver. Furl the mainsails, leaving only the secondaries and the forestaysail to maintain steerage. We shall let the current set us athwart the entrance channel. The ship will be stationary, but steady. It will be a perfect firing platform."
Columbus visualized the scene. It was perilous; if the helmsman missed by a single degree, the ship would be torn asunder against the coral. But if it worked, they would transform the Tequendama I into an immovable fortress.
"Luis, get down to the main deck!" Columbus shouted, his resolve returning with force. "Prepare the men for an emergency maneuver! Mainsails down at the stroke of the bell! Gunners, to your stations on the starboard side!"
Columbus climbed to the highest point of the poop deck, raising his sword for all to see.
"Sons of Spain and brothers of the Suaza Kingdom!" his voice thundered over the tumult of the sea. "Those savages believe us easy prey! We shall show them that the steel of Toledo and the fire of the Juracán know no borders! To your stations!"
Quihicha stood beside the helmsman, murmuring constant corrections. The Tequendama I began to pivot, the hull groaning as the current pushed it toward the white foam of the reef. The pirate junks, seeing the maneuver and believing the foreigners had lost control, quickened their oars and sails, plunging headlong toward what they thought was a grounded ship.
"Now!" Quihicha roared.
The heavy canvas fell, gathered by frantic hands. The ship gave a violent lurch as the current stabilized it just yards from the rocks. The Tequendama I came to a halt, swaying slightly, its muzzles of fire pointing directly into the path of the pirates.
Columbus looked at the first junk, which was closing fast, and then at Quihicha. The Suaza officer raised a hand, waiting for the exact moment when the ship's roll coincided with the enemy's waterline.
"Juracán!" Quihicha cried, bringing his hand down like an axe.
Quihicha's cry was not a mere command; it was the release of a force this side of the world was not prepared to witness.
Christopher Columbus felt the world shatter. The initial blast was not merely a sound, but a physical shockwave that struck his chest, emptying his lungs in an instant. The air around the starboard side of the Tequendama I was instantly stained a sulfurous gray—dense and acrid—forcing him to squint. Beneath his boots, the timber of the poop deck vibrated with a structural groan, protesting the violence of the recoil from the five cannons that had just spat fire.
The Admiral stood petrified, his mouth agape in an instinctive attempt to equalize the pressure in his eardrums. Beside him, Luis fell to his knees, hands pressed against his ears, his face contorted in a mask of primal terror. Quihicha, however, remained immovable, like a bronze statue cast upon the deck. His eyes never wavered from the trajectory of the projectiles.
Columbus watched as the Suaza officer's muscles tensed beneath his tunic, following the invisible arc of the iron balls that tore through the air with a high-pitched whistle—a metallic wail that rent the sky.
The impact occurred a heartbeat later. There was no elegance in the disaster, only brutal and absolute physics. The kinetic energy of the iron spheres transformed the pirate junks into splinters and wreckage in a fraction of a second.
Columbus saw, through the smoke, the dark wood of the enemy vessels explodes as if made of dry straw. The mainmast of the leading ship snapped with an agonizing crack, collapsing onto the deck and crushing men whose screams were silenced by the roar. The crimson of blood sprayed against the matting sails, creating a macabre contrast beneath the relentless midday sun.
A mixture of horror and a dark euphoria surged through Columbus's spine.
"Second round, look to your marks!" Columbus roared, finally regaining command of his vocal cords. He needed to shout to expel the oppression coiled in his throat. "Adjust aim! Do not let them maneuver! Ready... fire!"
The second volley was, if possible, even more deafening. The other five Juracán unleashed their sulfurous breath. The smoke was now so thick that Columbus could barely see the prow of his own ship, but the dull thud of impacts against the enemy hulls confirmed their success. The second junk took a direct hit right at the waterline. The Admiral watched with almost hypnotic intensity as the Pacific waters rushed violently into the breach—a mortal wound claiming the vessel for the abyss.
The third ship, which had attempted a desperate turn, found itself ensnared by the floating wreckage of its companions. Its sailors, seized by an absolute panic at what they must have deemed demonic intervention, began to hurl themselves into the sea. Columbus saw them splashing amidst the timber shards while their vessel drifted aimlessly, its sails tangled like the broken wings of a seabird.
"Panic has done our work, Admiral," Quihicha said, his voice uncannily calms as the smoke began to clear. "There is no need to waste more powder. The first two are doomed. The third is ours, should we desire it."
Columbus took up his spyglass, wiping the soot from the lens with his coat sleeve. The enemy ships were no longer threats; they were floating tombs.
"Release the sails," Columbus ordered, feeling his heart hammer against his temples with rhythmic force. "We shall ram the third vessel. We will not allow these pirates to carry tales of our supposed weakness to other ports. The success of this expedition is written with resolve, or it is not written at all."
Four days later.
The return to the Island of Unity was a silent procession of triumph beneath a clear sky. The Spanish Tequendama I, towing the remains of the third pirate junk and carrying a dozen prisoners shackled in the hold, entered the bay under the watchful eye of the main fleet.
From a distance, Columbus observed the settlement. It looked like a consolidated town despite its recent founding. The two Tequendama II vessels—those leviathans that dwarfed any European caravel—flanked the entrance like sentinels of a new empire. Upon disembarking, the air brought him scents both familiar and strange: freshly cut wood, saltpeter, and the intense spices the Suaza cooks used to feed the troops.
The Admiral walked toward the command house, trying to hide the exhaustion that weighed upon his shoulders like a leaden cloak. There, beneath a shaded porch that offered a respite from the tropical heat, General Umzye was conversing with James Norrington and Juan Cortizos.
Umzye turned at the sound of his footsteps. Her eyes, expert in reading the state of her subordinates, scanned Columbus with efficiency.
"It is good to see you, Admiral Columbus. Your delay was beginning to cast shadows of doubt across the Council."
"We suffered some unforeseen events, General," Columbus replied, offering a brief but firm bow. "We were ambushed in the western sea by a flotilla of local pirates. They were swift and knew the currents, but they did not account for the roar of the Juracán."
Umzye took a step forward, ignoring for a moment the diplomatic protocol that Norrington so favored.
"Is the crew well? Are there casualties to lament among my men or yours?"
Columbus paused for an instant, absorbing the priority of her question. It surprised him that her first concern was the lives of the men rather than the integrity of the vessel or the costly expenditure of artillery resources. It was a facet of the Suaza Kingdom that Chuta had forged with fire: the strategic value of every individual.
"All are alive, General... Some wounded by splinters and the shock of the blast, but nothing that time will not mend. We managed to disable two vessels and captured the third. We bring prisoners."
Umzye nodded with a severity that, in Columbus's eyes, concealed a deep relief.
"It is good to hear. The prisoners shall be useful for forced labor in the settlements," she paused, then continued with a somewhat apologetic tone. "I should like to grant you the rest you deserve, Admiral, but time runs faster than a storm wind. You are a week behind schedule. We must depart for Cipango before the seasonal currents turn against us."
Columbus sighed, accepting his fate with the resignation of a navigator. On this expedition, rest was a luxury permitted only upon the total fulfillment of the mission. "I understand, General. We are prepared to set sail."
Three weeks later. Year 12 of the SuaChie Calendar, Ninth Month.
The landscape had changed drastically. The humid, stifling heat of the southern archipelago (Philippines) had given way to a crisper, almost biting air that brought with it the scent of distant lands and temperate climes. They sailed north, following a route Umzye charted with a precision that Columbus found nearly supernatural.
The Admiral stood on the bridge of the Suaza flagship, the Tequendama II, surrounded by the captains of the other kingdoms. The atmosphere was charged with an electric tension—an anticipation that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. In the distance, a cluster of islands silhouetted against the leaden dawn sky, but it was not the geography that kept Columbus on alert.
"Look at that," Norrington whispered, pointing toward the horizon where the sea met the sky.
They were ships. An overwhelming number of ships. Columbus counted mentally, striving to maintain his composure: at least twenty sails distributed in organized patrols. These were not the ramshackle junks of pirates; these were sleek vessels with vibrant banners fluttering proudly and crews that moved with the discipline of a royal army. They were facing an official fleet of some local realm—likely the guardians of the islands preceding Cipango.
Umzye held a brass spyglass, observing the enemy formation with strategic fixity.
"These islands do not match the accounts of Cipango that your kingdoms provided," the General declared. "They are too small to be the heart of the empire. The tales speak of immense lands with mountains that spit fire. What we have before us is a border—a well-guarded threshold."
"General," Cortizos, the Portuguese, intervened with a note of concern in his voice. "We are in a precarious position. Those ships are small, but if they surround us in these waters, our advantage in size will become our tomb. If there are fifty of them, as we have seen over the last few days, they could board us through sheer saturation."
Columbus looked at the General. He knew the Suaza Kingdom sought not unnecessary war, but recognition and the opening of routes. Yet he also knew, as did Umzye, that showing weakness before fifty warships was an invitation to diplomatic disaster.
"We cannot pass by like thieves in the night," Umzye declared, lowering the spyglass. "We require fresh provisions and to know exactly where we stand. Cipango must be near, and these people hold the keys to the path."
Umzye turned to the European captains, her face illuminated by the cold, grayish morning light. "We shall take a risky course... The Suaza Tequendama II shall advance alone toward the largest island. It is our most imposing vessel and the one that best represents our sovereignty. The rest of the fleet—the English, Spanish, and Portuguese ships—shall remain three leagues back, ready to intervene should diplomacy fail."
"You intend to enter that hornet's nest alone, General?" Columbus asked, struck by Umzye's determination.
"I do not go alone, Admiral... Furthermore, I have a feeling that we might find exactly what we came looking for on this expedition," Umzye replied.
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[A/N: CHAPTER COMPLETED
Hi everyone.
Yes, I'm late again, sorry. The truth is, I had stopped taking the antibiotics for my toothache (they're expensive) and I thought it was over, but guess what? It wasn't.
Back to the chapter.
We're back with Columbus. Yay!
I'd forgotten I promised to keep everything chronological and I was about to use the time-skip technique. So I had to prepare this chapter with the half-finished battles I had from before.
And if we get to Japan, well, just kidding, actually, it's the Ryukyu Kingdom, which inhabited the southern islands of Japan, like Okinawa and Amami.
At first, I wanted the expedition to keep one of its islands by buying it, but then I remembered that this kingdom was quite rich, and I abandoned the idea. Hahaha
UFD: The Ryukyu Kingdom was an independent kingdom that ruled most of the Ryukyu Islands (south of Japan) from the 14th to the 19th centuries. The Ryukyu kings unified Okinawa Island and extended the kingdom to the Amami Islands (in present-day Kagoshima Prefecture) and the Yaeyama Islands, along with Taiwan. Despite its small size, the kingdom played a central role in the maritime trade networks of East and Southeast Asia during the medieval period... Not to mention that they had a sizable navy, which was generally used only for trade, but which had considerable firepower.
By the way, it will be impossible to upload the map in the quality I'm creating it in; it's already 40 MB and the entire Americas aren't even included yet.
What I did was take screenshots of small parts of a scientific map (National Geographic) and put them together. Tedious? Yes, but it's turning out beautifully.
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Read my other novels.
#The Walking Dead: Vision of the Future (Chapter 91)
#The Walking Dead: Emily's Metamorphosis (Chapter 34) (INTERMITTENT)
#The Walking Dead: Patient 0 - Lyra File (Chapter 14) (INTERMITTENT)
You can find them on my profile.]