Chapter 6: Confrontation

1 November, 1686 Night

Isabel entered the tavern where she had spent a year of her life in misery, fear and humiliation with the utmost coolness and composure of demeanor with Aba walking silently in at her heels, and then Aba positioned himself off to one side well in the shadows where he wouldn't be easily seen.

The space within was just as she remembered it, depressing, filthy, and very dark, being lighted only by the doorway, two large slatted windows in the front and a single lantern making shadows dance on the wall.

In this dark, hot place not overly roomy at the best, were gathered twelve or fifteen disreputable-looking men, sitting at tables, drinking together, talking loudly and obnoxiously to one another.

"All drunk I think," Isabel told Aba.

"Drunk or just boisterous," struck in the voice of Aba from behind her.

"Right you are Aba," replied Isabel, "and precious little difference which, to you and me."

Then Juancho d Estrada himself entered the room emerging from a small compartment area built behind the bar. He was carrying several tankards of ale and several drams of rum, which were precariously balanced upon a large flat wooden plate.

Up to that time Isabel had shown no signs of fear, although her mind was terribly tossed and disturbed, but not until that very moment when she saw him again had she known how strong the fear of the vengeful tavern owner had constantly been with her.

Falling back onto the time when her submissiveness could find no voice, in the presence of the human monster that held dominion over her, she tried to push beyond that and managed to say in Spanish with a small voice, "What had I done that I should have been so punished?"

Juancho set the large plate of drinks onto the table then he looked up but the expression on his face indicated he did not recognize Isabel. Hardly unreasonable considering she was dressed in billowing white shirt, black breeches and waistcoat, tall boots, and a wide belt with a pair of pistols and sword about her hips.

"Who are you?" he snapped back in slurred Spanish, obviously having taken a dram or two of rum himself.

Some sentences are not easily repeated but Isabel managed, "I asked you what it was that I had done that I should have been so mistreated by you?"

Isabel and Juancho were speaking Spanish and as imperfect as was Aba's knowledge of the tongue, he yet managed a fair understanding of what was taking place by the few words which he did understand, body language, and facial expressions and he readied himself for trouble, but because Isabel had told him in no uncertain terms not to interfere unless the situation became uncontrollable he remained off to one side and just watched and waited.

Then Juancho d Estrada saw past the clothing and saw the girl, past the way she now carried herself, proud and tall, with shoulders held straight, and looking him straight into his eyes, so unlike the girl he remembered moving about with stooped shoulders, and quiet gait, that averted his every gaze, the very girl he had purchased and then broken the spirit of not so very long ago. But he had also heard that this girl now crewed aboard the Maidens Revenge, a ship and crew that sent chilled blood flowing through the veins of even the cruelest seamen. Yes, it was her, and yes she was here to kill him, of that he held little doubt. He wouldn't stare, he'd give no sign that he recognized her for who she really was. No, no, he was far too smart for that, and he knew something she didn't, he knew that to this very day he could yet control her. Yes, he had broken her strength of character so effectively that she still belonged to him if she knew it or not. He would command her as he had in the past which would confuse her, confuse her at least long enough that he will have time to draw the gun nestled within the sling of the man sitting at the table and then he would end this thing.

"Isabel! Do dare you to stare at me! And how dare you demand anything of me!" he yelled as he reached down for the other man's gun.

And the little girl, who had finally fully overcome her fear of 'the beast', as she had come to considered him, shouted out with a clear, strong voice, "Not this time you bastard, never again! Look up at me!" then she drew up her musket, squinted along the barrel, and pulled the trigger.

Juancho d Estrada was bent over and already had the other man's gun in his grip when she yelled for him to look up at her. Turning his head he looked and saw the barrel of her gun pointed his way... ah, Jesus.

Jesus went through Juancho's mind at the same instant the ball punched through his heart.

The tavern owner feeling no pain lost his grip on the borrowed pistol and it fell to the floor. His legs gave out from under him and he dropped down and knelt for a moment on his knees, like a man taking communion, then his back buckled and he fell forward to the floor, onto the pistol which he had intended on using to kill Isabel.

Juancho saw the floor coming, in a foggy way, he hit it face first, with a thump, and then he twisted once onto his back, and lay with his eyes still open, until the dim light of the single lantern was gone.

What followed was a prodigious uproar of combat from the group of men at the tables. Knives, swords and pistols flashed everywhere, and then Aba fired his pistol so close to Isabel's head that she stood like one stunned while hearing one man at the table that was in the very act of firing his pistol cry out in pain, then she quickly dropped down to one knee and pulled her other pistol firing it and dropping another man that had just discharged his weapon sending its ball where her head had been only a second before. Rising to her feet she drew her sword and used her blade to turn away the blade of a man that had rushed toward her. Their blade's crossed several times then with a quick thrust Isabel ran the man through just as Aba launched another pistol shot which sounded so deafening that her ears began to ring. By this time the whole place was full of gunpowder smoke, and Aba took up his sword then stood side by side with Isabel taking on any that came forth. Two more fell under Isabel's blade and one under Aba's before the rest of the drunken group decided they had had enough, and running almost together they fled out the door.

Because of the sounds of gunfire, oaths, out crying, and the clashing of swords, a considerable crowd had gathered outside, and others, hearing the uproar, were coming running to join them. This crowd about the door parted very quickly before the sudden appearance of running men and they moved back even farther when shortly after Isabel and Aba exited the tavern then quickly made their way along the streets toward their shored Jolly boat. But seeing the crowd that had gathered brought distress to Isabel's heart.

During their return to the Maidens Revenge Isabel was very quiet and subdued, speaking only enough words to tell Aba of her concern, then once she and Aba were back aboard, after a quick nod to Diego and Claire standing watch, Isabel laid a kindly hand on Aba's shoulder, stood on tip-toe and then drew his cheek down to her lips, "Thank you Aba," she whispered, "Had you not be there..." she let the words trail off without finishing the sentence.

"I will always be there for you Isabel, you know that." Aba returned with a smile.

"Yes, I do know that. Thank you." Isabel whispered again offering him a weak smile then she added, "I must hurry to see Carman now. Thank you again."

Both Claire and Diego eager to welcome back Isabel, and learn the news, hurried over to the port rail but Aba intercepted them freeing Isabel to make her way to the Captain's cabin.

Isabel entered the cabin and Carmen saw she was still clad like a Buccaneer in her coarse white tunic and black breeches, but now that tunic was splotched with blood. Juancho d Estrada must be dead she reasoned.

Isabel's face was very pale, as if from torment, and her eyes were no longer merry. They shone instead with a grave look of concern, which checked Carmen's welcome and set her heart beating.

There was silence for a minute as the two women looked at one another. The light evening wind sent a surge of little waves against the ship's side, so that it seemed as if the now glowing sky was making its song of night.

Carmen walked with light steps and kissed the young women's cheek... a kiss like thistledown.

"You are free of him?" Carmen stammered while touching one of the blood stains on Isabel's shirt sleeve. Her voice seemed to break unwillingly in a holy quiet.

"I am free," Isabel answered. "But, by the Sorrows of Mary at what price?"

"Aba?"