"There it is, sir" said Guisseppe, tugging on his now long, scraggly beard. He hadn’t shaved in weeks, despite the mind numbingly ample amount of free time one receives on a trans-Atlantic voyage. But presently, he wasn’t worried about his beard. He was watching the countless fleur-de-lie banners waving against the Columbian sun. They had at last reached Ste. Marie, after months at sea, where they would finally re-supply before heading south again. The men would be glad to finally dock, the crew were uneasy after so long at sea and tempers were beginning to fester.
"Are you sure, Guisseppe? My eyes are not as good as they used to be, I can not make it out." Said Niccolo excitedly.
"There, on the left" Guisseppe lead the man’s view to the collection of distant structures and smoke with his index finger. Here, from the deck of the ship, the distant colony on this far off the edge of the world looked as an unimportant miniature. Niccolo’s slight mouth curved into a giddish sneer as he finally recognized the site.
"Good, good! We will dock and be on our way by tomorrow." He rested a thin hand on Guisseppe’s shoulder. "I’ll be uh… below deck. Ready an envoy to meet with the French and have someone fetch me when you have spoken with their representative."
"Yes, sir" said Guisseppe, barely able to get the words out before Niccolo had disappeared from view. He again squinted into his new telescope at the far off French settlement. Something wasn’t sitting well this day, Guisseppe decided as he collapsed the telescope and dropped it into his front pocket.
***
"That’s not what you want to see" Oratzio said, folding his mighty arms across his barrel-like chest and straightening his officer’s hat.
"Christ almighty…" mumbled Guisseppe in agreement. He rubbed his calloused fingers against his temples in a clockwise motion, as his brother had always suggested he do when his emotions threatened to get the better of him. "What do you think?" he said at last to his crewmate.
"Well, someone should probably go get the captain, he might want to have a look." Oratzio was referring, of course, to the collection of French soldiers that had begun to gather in formation along the docks of Ste. Marie. As soon as the Italian ships had got close to the port, the French had deployed a garrison of soldiers, much to the amusement of the crew, who shuffled to the rails to watch the blue-uniformed men array along the wharf.
"Maybe they’re a welcoming committee?" Guisseppe offered weakly.
"That fellow doesn’t look very welcoming." Oratzio pointed the frantic figure of a young-ish looking French officer who was currently stomping around his men, barking in a refined Parisian dialect. He reminded Guisseppe of a particularly angry duck.
This was not good. Guisseppe did not know if things could turn out favorable if there were any type of altercation. The men were already on edge, this new turn of events could only make things worse.
"Should I go get Niccolo?" said Oratzio, not taking his eyes of the French officer.
"Not yet" said Guisseppe, raising his right hand with a smile. "I haven’t spoken with their representative yet."
It took a few more minutes before the
Figlio di Maria, the flagship of the expeditionary fleet, to reach the dock while the rest of the ships stayed back. They weren’t taking any chances at this new show of hostility. As the flagship lined up along the wharf the men began to jeer at the French. Soon a ramp was lowered and Guisseppe, Oratzio and a contingent of soldiers descended. As they moved, the squawking French officer and a selection of his troops marched in to intercept them. The officer puffed his chest out and rested his gloved hand upon the pommel of his sword.
"Halt!" the young, thinly mustached man said in broken Italian. "You are not permitted the right to dock. Remove your ships from our harbour immediately and there will be no need for any show of force."
Oratzio gave Guisseppe an amused look. "I am Guisseppe Pazzini, chief navigator aboard the
Figlio di Maria of the Most Serene Italian Republic. On behalf of Captain Niccolo Patrucci, I humbly request permission to briefly dock for much needed supplies."
The Frenchman scoffed.
"You do not have permission to dock! Do. Not. Have. Permission.
Comprendere?" The man’s eyes bulged and spit flew from his yellow teeth as he squawked.
"Surely you can permit a few of our ships to at least make some hasty repairs? We are in dire need in some cases."
"Am I speaking to a child? Are all Italians so thick headed?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Guisseppe saw Oratzio reach for his blade but Guisseppe reached out to steady his friend before he could draw the sword. "Perhaps, you should speak with my captain, oui?"
***
"What in the name of the Christ is Naoned!?" screamed Niccolo as he flung his hands above his head at the French officer.
"Is it as I said, the Treaty of Naoned excludes Italy from dealings in Columbia. Now take your ships and go home!"
"You bastard, we wont get half way back to the Azores without resuplying, now get the hell out of my way!"
"I can not do that. Three of our ships will be returning from routines soon and they shall be forced to engage your fleet should you persist in your illegal action!"
"Take your ships and shove them up your weak ass, Frenchman!" said Niccolo. Guisseppe grabbed his captain by the man’s scuff and yanked him aside, close enough to confirm that the smell on Niccolo’s breath was indeed wine.
"Sir, calm down."
Niccolo pushed Guisseppe away, nearly sending him over the side of the ramp and into the harbour. "After we fought alongside them in the Holy War, they cast us into the blue!" He staggered. "A pox upon France and all her runts!" he yelled over the heads of his soldiers.
"So what are we going to do?" Asked Oratzio. Niccolo took a few steps back, turned away from the French and put his hands on his hips. After a deep sigh, he looked first to his left, then his right before turning back to Guisseppe and Oratzio.
What happened next remained somewhat indiscernable to Guisseppe until the day he died, he would never be sure if it was Niccolo who drew his blade first or the French officer. Or if one of the men had fired an arquebus from the side of the ship, or if the crack had come from French soldiers on the wharf, but he did know that whatever caused the confrontation resulted in a desperate skirmish.
Guisseppe barely managed to duck the first man’s attack amid the congested ramp but he succeeded in driving his own sword into the Frenchman’s side and pushing him over into the water, screaming as he fell. He kicked out violently, sending two more men backwards into the mass of soldiers rushing up the ramp, knocking them down like boulders in an avalanche. Niccolo had slain the officer, his fine Neapolitan blade was covered in the man’s blood and the captain swore profusely as he hacked at the French soldiers. From the deck of the
Figlio di Maria the men cheered like wild dogs, swarming toward the ramp as the French pushed their way up to the ship. Guisseppe and the men were caught in the middle.
"This is insane!" he yelled to Oratzio as it became nearly impossible to fight on fragile, blood soaked ramp. The crush of bodies pressed the combatants nearly chest to chest. "We have to get back on deck." Oratzio turned to bark at his men, ignoring Niccolo’s shril battlecries.
"Retreat! Back up the-" The sergeant’s words were cut short as French steel cleaved his skull asunder, sending chunks of brain and bone across Guisseppe’s face and into his scraggly beard. He fought back the urge to vomit. Oratzio’s body twitched and swayed before collapsing into a heap of mangled flesh.
Guisseppe slashed frantically with his sword, desperately trying to keep the French at bay as he physically pushed his own men back up the ramp. "Get back, get the hell back, you fools!" On his right, Niccolo squirmed his way through the mass of men like a snake, weaving in and out of them towards the safety of the deck. Behind him, the French cut the Italians down. Guisseppe’s feet became unsteady on the gore-covered wood.
Slowly but surely, they were advancing back towards the ship.
In one, final push the Italians fell back on the deck, but the French soldiers were at their heels slashing and cutting as they came.
"Fire!"
A formation of soldiers let a volley of inacurate but deadly arquebus shots at the first French attempting to climb to the deck, they’re bodies fell apart in the wake of the gunpowder’s force, giving Guisseppe precious time to think.
"Send the ramp over the side!"
The Italians hurried and to frantically kick and budge the thick ramp into the water, to the horror of the French soldiers who protested and desperately tried to steady themselves as the Italians finally managed to hurl the thing into the waves. The French fell and were pulled into the deeps by the weight of their armour which they clawed at in an attempt to remove.
Niccolo, covered still in French gore, was laughing like a child.
The crew cheered and swore at the French as the
Figlio di Maria pulled away from Ste. Marie. They wouldn’t be laughing come dark, thought Guisseppe as he collapsed onto the deck, panting and rubbing the blood from his eyes as the shores of the French colony shrank behind him.
