WeTried Translations
Translator: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Wind and a Cluster of Stars
Chapter 18
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Lisbon, Encounter with Pirates
34. Lisbon
April 30, 10:30 a.m.
As the morning wore on, more and more ships began passing beside the Red Tea.
The number of large and small vessels kept growing, and it felt like a fixed sea lane was taking shape, like a long line of ants gathering around crumbs on a road.
A little later, once we rounded the cape, the view opened wide, and Portugal's capital, the port city of Lisbon, came into sight.
Lisbon, shining in the morning sun, was a truly beautiful city.
A deep blue sea, a blue sky with white clouds rising high, and countless buildings spread across low hills beneath it.
In the bright sunlight, countless uneven shapes blended into one landscape and created a fresh new scene.
Lisbon was the most beautiful port I had seen so far.
It was the beautiful harbor of the Iberian Peninsula, ranked among the finest cities after Naples and Venice.
Under the sunlight, everything gleamed, and with nothing blocking that magnificent view, I could see all the way to the far ends of the city's hills.
"We're docking in Lisbon!"
At the top of a hill stood an old fortress in bright colors.
Around it, green woods and tightly packed tiled houses looked as pretty as if someone had crushed pale vermilion seashells and scattered the powder.
It was a major city like London, but the atmosphere was completely different.
If London was a city of the cold North Sea, Lisbon was a bright city under the southern sun.
"Lieutenant Shawn-nim, you need to be back by five in the afternoon."
I deliberately gave them one hour less.
They were finally setting foot on land after seven days, and they looked excited beyond words.
Of course, I had been waiting too, for the moment I stepped into this old city of culture.
Lisbon, a place I had only heard about.
Zenon said he had seen it enough times to be sick of it and would rather take a nap, so he stayed on the ship.
The person I needed now was Amy, since she could speak the languages of the Iberian Peninsula, in other words Spanish and Portuguese.
...
Amy talked with the trading post owner for quite a while.
I could not understand a word they were saying, but from the flow of it, I could tell the price was terrible.
"Liquor prices crashed."
"Since when?"
"Since a week ago."
"Even if prices rise again, the drop looks too steep, so we'd need to wait longer.
But we have business now, so we can't delay any further."
Sadly, we could not sell the whiskey that had only been weighing us down.
The hold still had plenty of space,
but considering the weight, we had not even filled half of it with whiskey, and we still could not buy more cargo.
If we loaded too much and slowed the ship, that would be a problem.
After giving up on selling it, I put Amy in front and bought fresh water at the harbor,
then food at the market.
White eggs wrapped in straw, bacon coated in coarse salt, fresh beef, and asparagus just coming into season.
Onions were always used in cooking and kept well, so I bought several sacks to keep us stocked.
After sending workers to carry everything to the ship, free time began.
The voyage had been long enough. Zenon split the sailors in two and sent them to taverns in turns,
and Lieutenant Shawn also vanished with the soldiers, saying he was curious about Iberian liquor.
...
London and Lisbon were equally crowded.
Carriages and wagons passed over stone-paved roads, and crowds of people came and went.
Orange clay roof tiles, red and yellow flowers I did not know, and roads whose edges had been worn down over the years by carriage wheels.
A warm wind climbed along those old streets and carried dry petals and leaves away.
Amy and I headed toward the castle we had seen from the harbor.
"Ah, that's Sao Jorge Castle."
Amy recognized the old castle's name from what she had learned while studying languages.
The Romans had built this fortress, and later Islamic rulers rebuilt it, and it had continued on that way to this day.
As if proving those long years, a single yellow flower swayed in the wind from a crack in the wall.
We could not go all the way inside, but we climbed the outer wall and looked through an embrasure at the city spread below.
Green leaves from nearby trees had grown close to the outer wall, and there were marks where passersby had brushed them with their hands.
Inside the inner wall, I could see soldiers' hats moving as they guarded the fortress.
"Beautiful."
The sea shimmered in tiny golden fragments, and in that reflected light, ships of every kind looked like black mirages wavering in the haze.
A city with no single fixed color.
Even the tiny figures of passing people carried at least two or three colors each.
The clay tiles were mottled with deep vermilion and pale orange, and the remaining Islamic buildings gleamed blue or white.
Still, all of it came together and gave a strange sense of unity instead of chaos, which was fascinating.
"Ugh, I'm hungry."
Now that I thought about it, it was around lunchtime.
"What food is famous in Portugal?"
We walked down toward a row of restaurants by the road.
Alleys stretched downhill toward the harbor, lined on both sides with eateries and taverns.
...
At lunch hour, the alley was packed with people.
Sailors, soldiers, food merchants, housewives, laborers...
The butcher was busy slicing meat for waiting restaurants, and next door at the seafood shop, cod bigger than Amy hung from hooks.
"Wow! A cod this big!"
The cod was truly huge.
It was a full hand span longer than Amy's blond hair beside it.
Salted cod had become an important everyday food here, and cod was also a key provision for sailors.
For customers buying cod, the seafood seller cut salted cod into proper portions and wrapped them in paper, dropped flapping blue shrimp into customers' buckets, and clipped the tips off live blue crabs' claws as their swimming legs twitched.
The alley was thick with smells: all kinds of meat grilling, the fragrant scent of basil and parsley laid on top, and from places splitting lobsters in half over charcoal, every kind of seafood aroma.
"Our place, cheap! Tasty!"
A little girl in an apron grabbed Amy's sleeve and spoke clumsy German.
She had probably taken us for Germans because we were looking around everywhere.
When Amy said a few words, the girl in the white apron lit up at once, eyes shining, and chattered in rapid fire.
"She says their main dish is Paella Valenciana."
"Then let's try that."
Amy and I were soon guided to a table on one side where we could clearly see the kitchen.
I could watch how this paella was made.
They stir-fried various vegetables in a large black iron pan with green olive oil, then added a little saffron.
Saffron, the pistil of the saffron flower, turned everything bright yellow even in a tiny amount.
Then they added soaked rice, poured in a milky broth of some kind, and added seafood they had prepared earlier.
Soon the large steaming pan was set in front of us, and the vegetables and seafood showed their red shells.
Mussels, small lobsters, onions, carrots, red peppers...
Everything blended together and gave it a unique flavor.
The yellow rice had soaked up the scent of seafood and peppers, giving it the character of southern-sea cuisine.
It was an excellent lunch.
35. Encounter with Pirates
April 30, 2:00 p.m.
After lunch, we strolled lazily through the alleys.
Every lane running down the slope offered a new sight, and my eyes stayed busy.
Nearby, we bought and drank a drink called mojito.*
*(The history of mojito goes back to the 16th century.)
The stall owner mixed rum into cold well water, then added mint and lime juice preserved with sugar.
"Wow! I've never had anything like this!"
I smacked my lips and took another sip.
That sweet, cool taste with refreshing mint and fresh lime was wonderfully unusual.
After a full meal, nothing could have been better.
That new kind of coolness felt like it cleared my head all the way through.
Amy and I wandered around with mojitos in roughly carved wooden cups.
We poked at large white chunks of shark meat and smelled bundles of dried scented herbs hanging up.
At a nearby glass workshop, we admired beautiful rainbow patterns in the light.
"Look at this, Captain! Your dream is right here!"
Amy was already tipsy from mojito and flailed around trying to catch the refracted light in the wobbling glass.
The shop owner saw that and nearly had a heart attack, then quickly grabbed Amy and spun her back toward the street.
A street clown saw it, pointed, and laughed.
High viola notes, tambourines, and pipe music.
People laughed and chatted away the afternoon.
...
4:40 p.m.
When we got back to the ship, half the sailors were still there.
Zenon had split them in half and sent them to taverns in rotation to keep watch on the ship, and knowing his personality,
I was sure both groups had gotten their turn at drinking.
Still, from their faces, they did not look that drunk. They just looked a little regretful,
smacking their lips with slightly flushed faces.
If you let them loose and let them drink without control, the boatswain suffered first,
so unless you were an idiot, the best way was to let them drink in moderation.
For sailors, nothing was better than drinking on land after so long at sea.
While I leaned against the rail and watched workers unloading boiled brown sugar from the ship beside us,
Zenon and the rest of the sailors arrived.
"Did the lieutenant and the soldiers come back?"
A perfectly sober Zenon asked whether the soldiers had returned.
"As you can see..."
"Well, that's good! Isn't it almost time? We can just leave without them.
We've already received the advance anyway, so no loss for us!"
"Ha ha, I called them an hour early on purpose because I expected them to be late."
But even after the six o'clock time I had in mind passed, they still had not arrived.
I even started to think it might be better to just leave without them.
By the time sunset fell and the pocket watch in my coat pointed to six-thirty (pocket watches existed in the 1500s),
only then did figures appear far away, looking like defeated remnants after losing a brutal battle.
The way they looked showed how fierce the fight had been,
and how miserably defeat had been handed to them.
Red-coated soldiers, glowing even redder in the sunset, limped toward us.
The corporal staggering in front had only one silver button left on his coat.
One arm was still in his sleeve, but the other sleeve dragged on the ground.
He must have fought fiercely.
In some violent hand-to-hand clash, the enemy must have torn off his precious silver buttons.
Behind him, another soldier had his precious hat skewered on his bayonet and limped along, using that musket like a crutch.
Behind that, one soldier was strangely barefoot.
As if they were holy relics from an expedition, he held his boots in both hands like treasure.
And behind him... no, never mind.
Not one of them was dressed properly.
Except the lieutenant.
At least he had not lost his hat or his saber.
But he was already completely spent, and his six subordinates had to hold his sides, arms, and legs,
pushing, pulling, and dragging him along.
"It's not too late, Captain. Raise anchor and move!"
"Ah, my head... my skull is pounding."
"Damn it! Deckhand! Put the plank down!"
They were total chaos, the living definition of it.
"Ugh, bleegh!"
They kept vomiting at random and collapsing as if someone had smashed them with potato sacks,
so nearby wives and sailors recoiled and ran off.
Still, through all that hardship, they endured like true ascetics and finally reached the gangplank.
Then they crumpled down like Pheidippides, the Greek warrior who gave everything in a brutal marathon and collapsed.
"How are we supposed to lift twelve of these 170-pounders!"
Zenon, being Greek, groaned at the sight.
...
There was really no easy answer.
If sailors grabbed their arms or legs, they thrashed and screamed that they were dying,
and they kept vomiting, but even then each one still clutched his musket.
The bayonets fixed on them made it dangerous, so we had no choice but to tie ropes to all four corners
and use the wooden loading platform we used for cargo.
We hooked that platform to the crane and hauled them up three or four at a time with pulleys, and the sailors stacked them
neatly in the hold.
And the special cargo with the gold-hilted saber was placed in the small special cabin.
"They'll be quiet till morning, at least."
Zenon was positive in his own way.
...
May 2, 8:00 p.m.
Second night since leaving Lisbon.
The weather was gradually getting warmer.
By now, even at night, the air felt warm rather than cold or chilly.
In the middle of the night, Amy had a sailor cast a throw net.
But the net came up light, and all it caught were two shrimp.
"Huh?"
Strangely, those shrimp were blue.
Not just bluish in color, they were truly giving off a blue glow.
"Ghost shrimp?"
The moon was already slanting down, but it had been full recently, so the moonlight was still bright, and under that light the shrimp looked eerie.
Even the cat wore a look like it had no idea what this was.
"They glow because they eat luminous bugs."
As expected, Zenon knew.
"Look over the rail. It's all over the sea."
I sprang up and looked past the rail where the waves were breaking.
Wherever the waves broke, blue light sparkled so brightly it looked cold.
"Sea sparkle plankton! I've read about this in a book. It's warm here, so they must grow in huge numbers."
They were tiny little creatures,
and when many gathered and were disturbed, they gave off blue light.
In the deep black sea, they shone like blue stars.
It felt like my wish had come true.
How could I preserve this dreamy, beautiful sight?
It was hard to capture even in a painting.
This world had so many things that were truly beautiful and mysterious.
"I want to become an adventurer! Famous adventurers go on adventures without worrying about making a living. I heard kings and dukes sponsor them. Their days must feel new every single day. And I heard the famous people of London and Amsterdam give rewards when someone makes a new discovery."
I stared at that shining sea for a long time.
So I would remember it for a very long time.
Amy scooped up that seawater, poured it into a clear glass bottle, corked it, and handed it to me.
When I shook it, the bottle glowed a piercing blue for a short while.
It really felt like my wish had come true.
....
May 3, 1:00 p.m.
As we got closer to the equator, the weather started getting hot.
Even so, the Redcoats stubbornly refused to take off their wool coats.
They looked unbearably stuffy and were drenched in sweat, but none of them would take them off, as if the coats were glued to their skin.
"We should arrive at Cape Verde soon. Good thing the trip has been smooth."
"Ah, is that so! Usually we'd have had to wait several days at Cape Verde! It's lucky we found this ship during that little window."
Lieutenant Shawn was genuinely delighted.
Now everyone was safe!
If they endured just a few more days, they would be free from salted meat (which seemed to be their field ration) and hammocks!
Beaming, Lieutenant Shawn headed down to the cabin to tell his comrades.
For the past few days, Zenon had held his post through this rough route.
We had to sail around the Canary Islands, around Las Palmas, threading through reefs, uninhabited islets, and currents.
With a pipe in his mouth and his hands on the wheel, he looked every bit the seasoned sailor.
Thanks to that, the ship had made good speed so far, and was still cruising well on the south wind.
"Ship to the south!"
Once the Red Tea came down south of Lisbon, ships became truly scarce.
Most ships passed through Lisbon and Seville and headed into the Mediterranean.
Through the Strait of Gibraltar, they traded with merchants linked to Mediterranean cities, North Africa, and the Middle East.
But farther south, on our route, only ships prepared for ocean voyages came this way,
so there was no reason we would see many, and spotting one became difficult.
Even yesterday, I had only seen three distant mast-tops three separate times... (because the Earth is round)
So hearing that a ship was in sight made me happy for no reason.
"But that's a little strange..."
Zenon trailed off after checking the ship through a telescope.
I looked through it too and saw a sambuk coming out from behind a rocky islet.
"Why?"
"Looks like pirates."
He reached that conclusion far too easily.
A sambuk with two main masts and one auxiliary mast, all rigged with lateen sails, was common enough.
Then why did he say it looked like pirates?
"Wait... that thing is coming out with suspiciously perfect timing. And..."
Uh...
"It has no cargo!"
Its draft was riding high.
A light ship, clearly not carrying anything heavy.
On top of that, it looked like it was trying to cut across our path while we were making full speed on the south wind.
"Now you see."
The instant he finished speaking, another identical sambuk burst out from behind the rocky islet, keeping distance from the first.
If we kept going like this, the Red Tea would run straight between those two ships.
"Turn! Turn! Hard to port!"
"Too late already, Captain! Everyone, battle stations!"
-Ding ding ding ding ding ding
The loud bell rang and jolted everyone awake.
Once we were already under a fair wind, turning took far too long.
The whole process took too long: rotating the square sails to change angle, setting the lateen sails again, then reefing the square sails again.
All of them had lateen sails, while we were weak in a headwind,
and they would clearly zigzag and catch us.
At this rate they would catch us in less than thirty minutes!
As if proving it, a black pirate flag rose high on the mast and started flapping.
"Pirates! Pirates!"
All the sailors ran around in panic, and the ship became pure chaos.
"Why are they already raising the pirate flag?"
At the very least, they would normally come close first and reveal themselves as pirates so we could not run!
"They're telling us to give up! They're saying stay right there and don't move!"
"T-then won't they just take the cargo and leave?"
"People are worth more than goods."
Meaning they would sell us as slaves or demand ransom.
My god!
Their ships kept getting bigger as they gained on us,
and through the telescope I could make out the skull and hourglass on the Jolly Roger.
The hourglass meant there was not much time left.
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