Free Aboard Cabrillo's Galleon by Christine Echeverria Bender

lifted her left forefoot, muttering softly as he checked the soft tissue of the hoof. “Since Viento must not be tempted by such fine mares while at sea— steady there —he and Seguro will sail with me. Good, good, firm but not too dry. Now this foot up, girl. That’s right. You will travel aboard La Victoria . Do not worry, she is a fine ship and Captain Ferrelo will take care that no harm comes to you. This one now. Hold there. Yes, yes, it feels fine. One more, my lady. Up, that’s it. Ah, again, no sign of trouble. All four hoofs are sound as I could hope. And how are your muscles feeling, Luna? Smooth and strong, just as they should be, and your eyes are as clear as ever. Although Captain Correa may be unwilling to admit it, you are the most excellent mare in all of Mexico. When we reach the East you and Viento will mate again and produce a foal as beautifully as you did last year.”
    His faithful sedate gelding, Seguro, awaited a portion of his master’s attention with a patience gained through fourteen years of life. For his sweet nature and serene acceptance of being visited last, Cabrillo rewarded him with a brief brushing before scrutinizing the many signs of his physical well-being.
    The inspection of the horses included particular attention to the animals’ hooves for good reason. Three days earlier their forefeet had been vigilantly trimmed to encourage a shifting of weight to their heels in the hope of reducing the risk of hoof fever, which could be fatal. The horses had then been reshod. Muscles, teeth, throats, eyes, noses, ears, and even their droppings were studied for any indication of a pending problem.
    After all four horses had been fully examined, Cabrillo pronounced, “They are all in top sailing condition, praise the Lord. Remember, Mateo, allow them no food or water for three to four hours before they are taken aboard. Once they are safely installed they will feel comforted by receiving both.”
    â€œYes, sir. I shall not forget.”
    While giving Viento a few final pats, Cabrillo was interrupted by a sailor who hurried into the barn, bowed quickly, and announced, “Captain-General, our second priest, he has arrived! He is here, sir!”
    â€œAt last,” said Cabrillo with heart-felt relief. “Where is he?”
    â€œHe is coming directly to you, sir.”
    These words had barely been spoken before a brown-robed man leading a dusty bay horse rounded the inn and became visible through the barn door. His eyes were aimed quite low so that the top of his head, capped by a round patch of gleaming skin and skirted with a ring of short-cropped hair, was the most visible feature. It was not until the friar lifted his face that Cabrillo recognized him, abruptly stilled his hands, and swallowed back an unholy curse.
    They slowly approached one another until they met at the corral’s railing. The friar was the first to speak. “Good day, Captain-General.”
    Cabrillo demanded, “Is this some sort of joke, some mockery?”
    â€œNot in the least, sir. I pronounced my vows as a friar several months ago and have since been ordained a priest. I am fully qualified to celebrate the sacraments.”
    â€œOrdained as a priest,” Cabrillo echoed, still trying to accept this unexpected and most unwelcome challenge. He stared penetratingly into the young face, discovering little.
    Correa, much confused by this exchange, looked from one man to the other but for once found his tongue to be of no use whatsoever. Mateo’s eyes had grown huge in anticipation of the calamity that his uncle’s manner foretold. He stood very still, his muscles tight.
    â€œCaptain-General Cabrillo,” the priest said evenly, “I have come to offer you my services. I have ridden far and have taken only what time was needed in getting here. I ask that you observe the condition of my horse. You will find that he is in good spirits and, under the