Once the prisoners had been driven out, the captain began arguing with his officers about the location marked on the map. Magdalena stood silent, occasionally exchanging glances with Sergeant Legazpi.
"If the information we were given," the captain said, glancing at Magdalena, "is correct, we must take control of that area. Therefore, Lieutenant Inzunza"—he addressed the man with the patch—"as soon as conditions permit, you will set out with a patrol for the estuary of Xul-Kan. Take the two pieces of artillery and suppress any resistance… and secure anything of value you find there."
"We will do so, Captain," Lieutenant Inzunza replied.
The captain pursed his lips. A young mulatto entered and announced that dinner was ready.
"Perfect… tonight we shall eat wild boar, provided by your father," he said to Magdalena.
The girl forced a smile.
"May I withdraw, Captain?" she asked.
"Of course," the captain answered. "It has been a long day, and I appreciate your assistance."
Magdalena bowed and took her leave.
"Magdalena," the officer called after her before she stepped out, "one warning: if I learn that you have warned the people of Xul-Kan, I will charge you with treason against the Crown… and I will show no mercy in executing you all."
"Trust that I will be discreet," Magdalena replied.
She was about to leave the tent. Rain still fell, and she began to walk toward the naajo'ob of the cacique; hurried footsteps behind her made her pause. She recognized Sergeant Legazpi, who stopped and nodded toward a side street for her to slip into. Once out of sight of prying eyes, the sergeant whispered,
"This has taken a sinister turn," he said. "Listen: warn your father to keep away from suspicious activities. The captain's eyes are on him and on your people."
"Sergeant Legazpi, the pirates lied and accused me…" Magdalena began.
"I know, but…" The sergeant looked around. "Captain Sepúlveda is very interested in finding riches that could catapult his career before the Crown, and with the pirates' outrageous accusations, you are vulnerable to him."
"But we weren't involved in that."
The sergeant sighed. "Magdalena, from what I have observed, there was collaboration by some among you. In the captain's eyes, your father and the village are as guilty as those scoundrels."
The girl thanked the sergeant with a look, and they slipped away in separate directions.
Magdalena reached the naajo'ob, where her family and the notables were gathered, accompanied by the H-men. They welcomed her with anxious faces; her mother and grandmother embraced her.
"We were all worried. What happened?" the cacique asked.
"The Spanish captain kept me on as an interpreter for the pirates, and I think we are in great trouble," Magdalena said. "The pirates accused me of knowing about Xul-Kan; they will send an armed patrol with artillery and will take reprisals if anyone from here warns them."
She told them what had happened, and by the end everyone murmured in fear.
"This is terrible… we must warn Xul-Kan," one of the notables said.
"Have you not heard that if we do, they will kill us all?" the cacique replied.
"In fact, there are already soldiers patrolling around the village," one of the men warned.
"The Spaniard is watching us," another added.
Voices rose; then Magdalena raised her voice.
"The damned pirate Eddy threatened to reveal the Ak'abil p'u'ujil if we do anything against him."
Silence fell; faces went pale.
"Can someone tell me what you are hiding?" Magdalena asked, looking at them.
"It's no use keeping this from Ixzel," said the H-men.
The cacique sighed.
"You're right, H-men. It's time to withdraw; only the elders should remain. And hear this—do nothing that will compromise us," he said.
The H-men lifted his hands. "May the gods' blessings fall upon you and upon our brothers in Xul-Kan."
The men left the naajo'ob; the H-men, a few elders, and the cacique's family remained.
"Are you going to tell me what happened, or must I wait for one of the pirates to relate it to me?" Magdalena demanded.
The cacique sat down, as did the others.
"It happened sixteen tunes ago, on a full moon, when the hare appeared on the face of the moon," he began. "The Franciscans had been here for more than two katuns; they kept us under their thumb and humiliated us, demanded loyalty to a god we did not understand and to a king we did not know." He paused. "Then came a great drought: food ran out, the game vanished from the region, and the fish in the cenotes turned bitter; the jungle was dying and we with it."
The cacique drew a breath, let his gaze pass over those present, and then fixed it on his daughter.
"Yet the Franciscans did have food," he said. "What little grew they hoarded, demanding loyalty and submission in exchange for bread, and they threatened constantly to execute those who would not submit to the Gospel."
Only the rumble of thunder, the steady fall of rain on the roof, and the whistle of the wind could be heard.
"Why did the Franciscans keep themselves isolated? Why did they not contact the presidio to ask for assistance for the people?" Magdalena asked.
The cacique pressed his lips together. "Because, for some reason, they already knew of the potential of that mineral, the Azure Ore, and they exploited it quietly, selling it in Xul-Kan. That allowed them to trade for provisions and amass a fortune that only they enjoyed."
"That's why they were fat as boars," an old man said.
They murmured and nodded.
"Everything went very well for them and worse for us," the cacique continued, "until the pirates arrived."
"But it was the pirates who drove the Franciscans away. Why do you insist there is something dark, something to be blackmailed over?" Magdalena asked.
"That is not the end of the story," said the mother.
"The pirates came and seized the mission, fortifying themselves in the redoubt. They took the friars' food and, seeing us starved, did something abhorrent," the cacique said. Outside, the rain beat against the palm roof. "They stripped the Franciscans naked, and Rafael proclaimed, 'Behold the swine. Sacrifice them. There will be a feast. It is the will of the Lord.'"
The cacique paused.
"Then, urged on by Rafael," he continued, "we ritually sacrificed the Franciscans."
"Their hearts were offered to K'inich Ajaw, the sun, so that better days might come," the H-men said; "their heads to Hun-Hunahpú, so the earth might become fertile again; their blood to Itzamná and Kukulkán. One was drowned in the cenote as an offering to Chaac, so the rain would return."
The sky boomed and the rain intensified for a moment.
"After those offerings, after years of drought, the rain fell copiously; the jungle greened, the land grew fertile, the game returned, and the fish in the cenotes became sweet once more."
"But you practiced cannibalism… encouraged by the pirates?" Magdalena asked, horrified.
"The men of the village, helped by the pirates, skinned the bodies and roasted them on a great fire that fed the whole village and the pirates themselves; they smoked the meat buccaneer-style and dried it to preserve it until times changed," the cacique related.
Magdalena opened her eyes wide. "Now I understand it all," she murmured.
"They saw us desperate and incited us. We were hungry; our children were dying of starvation… you were very small, and we thought your days were numbered," her mother said.
"Oh no… no, please—" Magdalena managed, bringing her right hand to her temple, stunned by what she had heard.
"The punishment would come later… and you know that already," the H-men said.
"Rafael gathered us one day," the cacique continued, "and said that our deed was abominable and would be punished by the true God. Yet he—professing to be a man of faith and God's representative—offered to intercede if we pledged loyalty to him. They first executed the H-men responsible for the sacrifices, then led us to the cenote and baptized us to cleanse the sin; and he warned that if we ever betrayed him, he would report us to the Inquisition."
"But… the pirates feasted on the friars too. Did nothing happen to them?" Magdalena asked.
The cacique looked at the H-men and then at the others present. "He called them his disciples and apostles."