But suddenly four shadows emerge from fists. Taskmaster, taskmaster of PrinceAn- the dark. They approach one of the bon- drea Doria’s army! So what? Was he a fires and the crossbowman feels his rage lesser man by any chance? He has two ignited, stirred by their untimely pres- arms and two legs and everything that is ence. He sees them now. Four hidalgos , required… four leaders: don Francisco de Mendoza, the teenager who once was the steward The lords converse by the fire’s light. Their of don Fernando, King of the Romans; palms and jewelry glean when moved don Diego Barba, youthful, knight of the with the simplicity of the nobility’s mo- Order of San Juan de Jerusalén; Carlos tions; gleans the Maltese cross; gleans Dubrin, brother of our lord Carlos V; and the lace of the King of the Roman’s stew- Bernardo Centurión, the Genovese, for- ard, over the torn apart doublet; and the mer taskmaster of Prince Andrea Doria’s otter cloak opens, sumptuous, when its galleys. owner places his hands on his hips. The Genovese turns his frizzy head with ar- Baitos conceals himself behind a cask. rogance and the circular rings tremble. He is aggravated by the observation In the back, the three corpses spin be- that not even in these moments when tween the wind’s fingers. death besieges all haven’t they lost an ounce of their vanity and pride. At least Famine and hatred drown the cross- he deems it so. And grabbing the bar- bowman. He wants to scream yet he is rel so as not to fall, for he has almost no not able, and collapses gently over the strength left, sees that the knight of San sparse weeds. Juan carries still his red coat of arms, with the eight-pointed white cross open like a When he recovered, the moon had hid- flower on the left side, and that the Ital- den and the fire barely twinkled, soon ian wears over his armor the huge otter to be extinguished. The wind was quiet fur coating that becomes him so. and the distant howling of the Indians could be heard. He stood up heav- This Bernardo Centurión disgusts him ily and looked at the gallows. He could more than any other. In San Lúcar de Bar- barely see the executed. His view was as rameda, when it came time to set sail, he if concealed by a light haze. Someone gathered a hatred for him that was only moved, close by. He held his breath, and increased during the journey. The sol- the otter cloak of Doria’s taskmaster was diers’ stories referred to him only helped cropped, magnificent, in front of the em- to encourage that animosity. He knows bers’ red light. The others were no longer he has been the captain of four of Prince there. No one: not the King’s steward, Doria’s galleys, and that he fought under not Carlos Dubrin, not the knight of San his command in Naples and Greece. Juan. No one. He scanned in the dark. The Turkish slaves roared under his whip, No one: not his brother, not even mas- chained to the paddles. He also knows ter don Rodrigo de Cepeda, who used that the Admiral gave him that fur coat to prowl around with his prayer book at the same day the Empress awarded him such hours. with the honor of the Golden Fleece. So what? Does that call for such conceit? Upon seeing him on board one could have thought that it was Andrea Doria himself who came to America. He pos- sesses a manner of turning his almost Afri- can tanned head, of making the golden rings lighten up over the furry neckline, that forces Baitos to clench his teeth and t3718