An Invitation to the Ball

La Gongozzler felt alive with steady crescendo of the waves as they rolled underneath, the crackling songs of the creatures under the hull with the slight motion of a wave working the joints within the structure of the ship. Matthew gripped the side rail as he stared at the endless horizon and smiled at the contented gurgle of the water that says she'd hit cruising speed. The wind singing through the rigging. The ensign snapping. This was where he was meant to be; not on land preaching to an indoctrinated congregation. His brow darkened with the realization his mission had not yet finished; yet this path was far more favourable than that on land.

A school of fish, shooting around with their comet trails attempted to race the ship unsuccessfully. Matthew breathed in deep the pungent, sulphury smell that coincided with phosphorescence trails in the sea the evening before. Despite their liberal religious views, many of the men had resorted to crossing themselves as they hauled their nets in, dragging out the liquid light; the soft sea jellies crushed and torn, shining and clinging to the hemped knots. Perhaps his time as a conveyor of the words of God and comfort were not quite over.

Checking quickly that the scroll was still in place in his tunic, Matthew made his was towards the Captains cabin. A black cat wounds its way round his legs nearly causing him to fall, but before he could catch or scald it, it had vanished like a puff of smoke.

He could hear the low murmur of both the Captain and Pete inside and was hesitant to knock; his fist poised in mid air inches away from the wooden door.

“Come in, whoever lurks outside.” Juans sense of his environment and surroundings had never ceased to impress him.

The Captain stood tall, impeccably dressed in a snow white tunic, loosely closed at the neck by a criss cross of cord. His beard clipped short and smoothed and his dark stubbly hair glistened like diamonds with a fine sweat.

“Excuse me Captain, might I have a word?”

Juan extended his arm out to him. “Father Paulo, please come in.”

Matthew glanced at Petes consistent frown and stepped inside the cabin.

“Please, I am no longer Father Paulo – he was left behind in Lisbon. I am simply Matthew your head carpenter.”

Pete scratched his bead and grumbled, “Men changing their names, women still on board, Bruno smuggling God-only-knows-what on board. The Gongozzler is a shambles – beggin’ your pardon Captain.” Pete continued to scratch his beard, but flicked his eyes away from both men.

Juans tightly smiled and inclined his head. “No you are right Pete; as usual. I have not been myself these past months. Things have changed.”

“It all started with that woman, that witch.” Pete whispered almost to himself.

“Whom we not only need for these maps, but has proven to be resourceful and as good a hand on deck as any man we have here.”

Matthew cleared his throat.

“Please, Matthew – whats on your mind?”

“The week in Lisbon,Sir. I had a lot of thinking to do, wasn’t sure if I was going to sign on again.”

“There’s no shame in that – I gave everyone an option. I am glad you decided to join us again though.”

“I went straight to the monastery, I needed to think, away from the other men and from the ship. I won’t deny Captain that I have been involved in many things within the church and part of my decision to come back as simply Matthew has to do with my departure of faith in the direction our new Pope has taken the church.”

Juans brow wrinkled as he nodded trying to understand where Matthew was going with this.

“I had only been there a few days and during our midday mass the Abbot took the pulpit and asked for special prayers for the Marquis DeLume.”

“Diego is dead?” Stammered Juan

“No – The Marquis Senior – Dominic.”

“So he’s finally been announced as dead.” Pete observed.

Juan flinched involuntarily, “Its been over two years since anyone has seen or heard from him. The New World has little to explore which would take that long to return from. I suppose someone had to announce it.”

Matthew shifted his weight on his feet, but kept his hands clasped behind his back. “The monastery had prayers and ceremonies set out for a week to mark the Marquis passing. There were more pigeons and messangers arriving and departing during the next few days than I had seen before.”

“I hadn’t realized the old fox was so well connected within the church.” Pete had stopped scratching his beard and began to pull at strands thoughtfully.

“He was one of Romes greatest patrons, especially in the area of conversion and missionary work in the Holy Land and in the New World.” Replied Matthew

“Makes sense – he had his political fingers in every pie.” Juan surmised, “I had heard he was a different man before his first wife died. Apparently he purged his guilt by going on some sort of pilgrimage to the holy lands. Came back a changed man, in more ways than one.”

Matthew nodded. “Its well known he traveled with Ignatius of Loyola, who was a zealot - as most missionaries are. Spending time with him would change anyone.”

He then unrolled an ornate scroll he’d retrieved from inside his tunic and laid it out on Juans desk.

Juan and Pete crowded round to read, “Earl Fedele De Lume, together with Marquis Diego De Lume and La Contessa Dominica De Lume have announced a Masquerade Ball at the De Lume estates in La_Spezia, Liguria as a mark of respect of their fathers passing. A three day celebration including activities favoured by the late Marquis will be undertaken. Please present this invitation to the steward upon your arrival where rooms to your requirements await.”

Juan looked up in surprise. “Where or how did you get this?”

Matthew allowed himself a sly smile and a shrug. “I was curious. I went to the Abbots rooms and found this on his writing desk.”

“You broke into the Abbots private rooms?”

“I wasn’t always a man of the cloth.”

“Evidently”

“I’ve been on this ship long enough to know that most of the crew have a life on shore they are either running or hiding from.”

Juan nodded his head. “No truer word has been spoken. Now what to do with this.” He rolled the invitation up and tapped one end of it on his chin.

“If I may be excused Captain?” Matthew lowered his eyes slightly.

“Of course Father Pau..erm.. Mathew. And thank you.”

“If I might say sir, We may be damned as pirates, but pardon my bluntness, you need to say your farewells to Dominic. Captain Juan of the Gongozzler may not be welcome in port, but the Abbot of Lisbon with his invitation will be welcomed into the castle to pay his respects and offer comfort to the bereaved family. Again beg your pardon for my forthrightness Captain, as a priest, I consoled and guided families dealing with death all of the time. One thing I know is that if you don’t make the effort to say goodbye, you will carry that guilt around for many years.” He paused and looked at Juan broad back. “ I know Domonic was more a father to you than a mentor.”

Juans back remained still, the only sound in the cabin the gentle creaking of the boards in the ship. “I’ll take my leave Captain. I’ve overstepped my place and apologize.”

Without turning, Juan replied, “Matthew, there is no need to apologize. You have only spoken your truth and especially now I need honest men around me who are not afraid to speak their minds and hearts.”

Matthew spun on his heal and left the cabin.

Pete picked up the crystal decanter from the small side board and poured two measures into cut glass tumblers. Handing one to Juan he simply stated, “Port, Captain?”

Juan wrinkled his nose as he downed the shot and stared at the empty glass as the remaining cloying fluid dripped slowly down the sides. “How much of this stuff did Pablo buy again?”

“Too much, Captain. Another?”

Juan shook his head. “Well, we had planned to visit the De Lume Villa in La_Spezia . Fete, it seems, has dealt us a trump card, an open invitation.”

Juans mind began to calculate the tasks need to be undertaken before they arrived.

“We will need to change some of the rigging on La Gongozzler and rename her. There is no way we will be able to weigh anchor as we are.”

“Easy enough captain. We can do that without docking anywhere.”

“Lets back to the maps and plot our best course. As Matthew reminded me; we are pirates and will be unwelcome in most ports. Once at the ball, we can organize a sweep of Dominics private library, which will be out best starting point to find the key to our Intaglio. I feel certain we will find what we are looking for there.”

“And how will you hide from la Contessa? Your brother who will most certainly be there? With the reading of a will as large as The Marquis, even they will come out of hiding to claim what is there.”

Juan scratched his stubbly head and then laid his hand flat upon his prickly pate. “No-one looks at a man of faith too long; especially if I keep my head shaved.”