The Blind Cat
Baron Britpop Blastfurnace • Chapter 18
After the Captain left us, we continued walking toward town. I was walking next to Stout.
“What town are we going to?” I asked.
“It is more than a town. It is Santander. A beauty of a port on a large bay, circled by sandy beaches. Many ships sailing to and from the New World use this port. As you will soon learn, there are many taverns ready to take a sailor’s coin.” Then he burst into laughter.
Soon enough, I saw it. Stout did not exaggerate. It was a marvel. There were countless buildings clustered together on winding streets, buildings that appeared to be made of white stone or sand, yet they had no seams. The roofs were covered in rows of bright red tiles. Many ships were docked and even more anchored in the harbor, including a few Spanish galleons.
Looking at Andelbert, I could see he was also amazed.
“Can you believe it? It is like nothing I have ever seen.” Andelbert said.
“It is certainly nothing like Kapri,” I replied.
Then I remembered that I didn’t speak a word of Spanish. I turned to Stout.
“Stout, I cannot speak Spanish.”
“No worries, most of the crew can. And we will do the talking for you. They get sailors from all parts, so a sailor who can’t speak Spanish is common enough.”
After winding through the streets of Santander, we arrived at a tavern called El Gato Ciego, which Stout told us meant The Blind Cat. We walked into a large room filled with people and sat at a table near the door. As I looked around, I was amazed by the variety of people.
I saw a completely bald man wearing earrings laughing with another man who had tattoos covering his entire arms. Another man was wearing a tight-fitting all-black suit. On his head was a matching black wide-brimmed hat that was flat on the top and circled by a red ribbon. He was talking to a servant girl who looked quite bored. Another man was wearing a colorful, loose-fitting cloak-like garment. It looked like a blanket sewn together to make the head and armholes.
But as astonishing as the men were, the serving girls were even more amazing. They wore flowing red dresses with white blouses covered in colorful embroidered flowers. Their aprons also had flowers around the edges. Their skin was the color of a dark summer tan, and their hair was black as a raven. I have to admit I was smitten by their unusual beauty.
Barrelhoop looked at Andelbert and me and said, “Both of ya close your mouths and stop staring.”
“I apologize,” I said. “I’ve never seen people like these.”
“It’s fine to look, but don’t fix yer eyes on anyone too long. A good number of these men are sailors. Some may even be pirates. And some like to fight. I doubt ya would last long against any one of them.”
Suddenly, everyone looked bigger and meaner than they did a moment ago.
Fortunately, my dread vanished when a smiling servant girl arrived to take our order. Barrelhoop ordered for the whole table in what sounded like fluent Spanish. A few minutes later, she returned with a platter of meat, bread, cheese, and cups of ale for everyone.
“Drink up, Lads. The good Baron is buying.”
At this comment, everyone cheered and held up their cups in salute to me. I smiled broadly. This was far better than fearing for my life on board the Sea Merchant. I was happy to pay for this adventure and the excellent company.
As we ate and drank, the crew told stories of their past visits to Santander. The stories usually were a mix of sailors, women, ale, gambling, secrets, and fighting. The tales grew grander and grander with each cup of brew. I don’t know if I believed them all. Still, I learned that The Blind Cat was famous because the owner treated everyone the same, regardless of where a body came from or what they looked like. Like a blind cat.
I was having an excellent time. Then something unexpected happened. A man walked in with a musical instrument that looked somewhat like a large violin, but it was more rounded and had a round hole in the top. He sat down, placed the instrument in his lap, and began to hit the strings using his fingers instead of a bow. The sound was incredible—percussive and melodic at the same time.
“I turned to Stout and asked, “What is that?”
“That is a guitar. They are made here and in Italy.”
As I thought things couldn’t get any more amazing, one of the servant girls walked over to the man playing the guitar and started clapping her hands. Then she started twirling and danced a dance I can not begin to describe. I knew right then I must have a guitar of my own. And that I would gladly marry a Spanish girl from Santander.
“Can I buy a guitar in town?” I asked Stout.
“You can buy anything in Santander if you have the coin,” he replied.
At that moment, Scar Arm jumped up, hurried over to Barrelhoop, and whispered in his ear. A look of concern crossed his face, and he stood up.
“Come on, lads, we’re leaving out the back.”
No one questioned this, and everyone got up quickly and headed for the kitchen.
“Get out your coins,” Barrelhoop said to me as we walked through the kitchen. I handed him my purse. Barrelhoop gave a few coins to the innkeeper, spoke a few words to him, and we hurried out the back door and down an alley.
We walked quickly down several winding streets and soon found ourselves at the edge of town. Barrelhoop stopped and turned to us.
“Someone informed the Spanish that we were pirates. We need to get back to the ship. Stout, you lead everyone back, and I’ll go get the Captain. Don’t delay, or you’ll all be dancing the hempen jig in the market square.”
As we quickly made our way back down the path toward the ship, Andelbert turned to Jonas and asked, “What is dancing the hempen jig?”
“It is the squirming men make hanging from the end of a rope before the life runs out of them.”
Andelbert’s eyes grew large, and his face turned pale.
We made it back to the rowboats and rowed out to The Jellyfish. Stout stayed behind with a boat for Barrelhoop and the Captain. As we watched from the deck, I was trembling with dread, both for myself and for the men still onshore. Time seemed to stand still.
The calm was broken by a distant musket shot. Seconds later, Barrelhoop and the Captain came running down the path toward the rowboat. They jumped in, and Stout rowed furiously for the ship.
They were about halfway when several Spanish soldiers came running down the trail. They stopped at the edge of the water and began to fire their muskets at the rowboat. Water splashed near the boat, but thankfully, none of the shots met their mark, and they were soon climbing up the side of the ship. The soldiers continued to fire, and I heard wood crack and saw a railing splinter several feet to my right.
“Make sail!” Captain Peanut Butter ordered, and the crew got The Jellyfish on her way.
