Free Aboard Cabrillo's Galleon by Christine Echeverria Bender Page A

coating of dust that the road has bestowed on both of us, he is in admirable health.”
    When Cabrillo moved neither his disgruntled gaze nor his body, the young friar continued. “Please allow me to apologize for my late arrival, sir. As you can see, my horse is no longer youthful.” The tenor of his voice lowered just enough to deepen the meaning of his next words. “I was recently taught never to mistreat a noble animal.”
    After a moment Cabrillo allowed his attention to be diverted to the horse, and he eyed the animal critically. At last he said, “I must admit that he appears to have received acceptable care. But this does not keep me from questioning your motives for being here at all.”
    â€œA priest goes where he is assigned, sir.”
    â€œAssigned? Did you receive this assignment before our first encounter?”
    â€œI did not, sir. When we met in Santiago I had just completed my year as a novice. My vows as a friar in the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine had only newly been pronounced.”
    â€œYet you wore none of the clothing of your order that day, and you said nothing of your true calling. You allowed me to believe you were no more than a messenger.”
    â€œFor that journey, since it was to be the final personal service I was to perform for the viceroy, he felt I might travel with greater safety and speed if I displayed the visible evidence of his authority, carrying his seal and riding one of his horses. My superiors at the monastery complied with the viceroy’s wishes and gave me permission to briefly don the clothing I had so recently set aside rather than wear my friar’s robe.” An evocative smile, perhaps unwillingly, touched the youthful face. “As you may remember, sir, during our initial interactions I was given little opportunity to discuss any calling I might follow.”
    Cabrillo chose not to validate this accusation with a direct response. “Did Father Gamboa know of your coming to act as our second priest?”
    â€œNo, sir. Even I did not know until two days prior to my departure from Mexico City. Any messenger that might have been sent to inform you of my appointment would have failed to reach you much sooner than I. My superiors asked me to deliver their sincere apologies for the delay in sending me to you. They hope you will understand that since the Augustinian order has not been in Mexico long, many of our activities are still being organized and refined, including the assignment of priests.” He stepped to his saddlebag and withdrew a paper. “Here is my letter of introduction, sir.”
    With a notable lack of enthusiasm Cabrillo accepted the letter, unsealed and unrolled it, and scanned the words. Curling the parchment up again, he turned to Correa. “Forgive me, Captain, but I must now speak with our visitor in private.”
    â€œOf course, sir,” said Correa, failing to hide his disappointed curiosity. He bowed and moved off to resume his duties on the beach.
    One quick glance from the captain-general sent Mateo scurrying back to the stalls.
    Addressing the priest alone, Cabrillo asked, “Did you request to be assigned to this voyage, or are you here at the viceroy’s command?”
    â€œViceroy Mendoza felt that my abilities with native languages might be of particular service to you, sir.”
    â€œMy men can tell you that I favor full and direct responses. Did you request this assignment?”
    â€œVery well, sir. I am here at the order of the viceroy, but he did ask me of my own thoughts before the order was made official. I told him I would be most willing to serve you and your men on my first priestly mission.”
    Cabrillo could find no sign of an absolute lie, yet he felt something being withheld, some undisclosed motivation. “Then tell me, Father Lezcano, why you chose to sail under the command of one who has had you soundly whipped?”
    The priest answered