The King's Fifth Read Online Free Page B

The King's Fifth
Book: The King's Fifth Read Online Free
Author: Scott O’Dell
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from the sun, like all our mouths.
    "He says that it rains during the summer in the Sea of Cortés," I answered. "Sometimes for a week."
    "We have been five days on the sea and it has not rained."
    "I have counted," Lunes said, "it is six days, not five."
    Mendoza shrugged his shoulders.
    I was surprised at Lunes because he was not one to
argue. I was more surprised at the Captain's silence, for no one argued with him, even over a trifle.

    The clouds rose higher. From time to time I saw Lunes glance at the goatskin oE water, which the Captain held between his knees. Suddenly he staggered up and pointed into the west.
    "Three galleons," he cried.
    Everyone got to his feet.
    "I see nothing," said Zuñiga, who had a squint and saw little at any time.
    "All with sails flying," Lunes said. "Look, where I point."
    I shaded my eyes and looked until tears ran down my cheeks and dried there. I saw nothing except the steaming sea.
    "You have lost your wits," Roa said and sat down.
    "Next you will see lakes and trees growing beside them," Zuñiga said.
    Mendoza laughed, though there was little to laugh at. "A mirage," he said. "A moment ago I saw waterfalls. I conjured them because I wished to."
    "Lunes, you see so much, can you see Admiral Alarcón eating a breakfast of cold fowl?" Roa asked. "Does he drink Jerez or Madeira?"
    Lunes fell silent. He sat down and again began to eye the goatskin.
    The white clouds moved overhead and formed themselves into snow-covered mountains. Rearing above the mountains were great castles and battlements and below them were running horses and fighting men. After a
time, when the sun set, it gilded the roofs of the castles with gold and the gold sifted down over everything.

    "The Seven Cities," Lunes said, watching the clouds. "All gold. Even the doors and the tiles people walk upon."
    "Captain," Roa said, "is there much water in the Seven Golden Cities?"
    "Springs and rivulets, streams and rivers and lakes of water," Mendoza answered. "And fountains everywhere, tall as the trees along the Guadalquivir in our city of Seville."
    "Tell us more about the fountains," Zuñiga said.
    "I cannot talk more of fountains or of anything," Mendoza answered. "My lips are very sore. Words feel like burning pebbles in my throat."
    "This is the way with all of us," said Roa. "But I too wish to hear more of the fountains."
    Mendoza was silent.
    Lunes said, "There is also true gold in the streets which lead to the castles. Paved with golden flagstones so heavy that it needs two men to lift just one."
    Mendoza picked up the goatskin but did not pass it around. He held it and gave each of us a sip of water and put the stopper back.
    "Musicians," he said, "we now play a tune. Something gay to suit the circumstance."
    Roa found his drum and Zuñiga his fife. The sun had given Lunes' guitar the shape of a gourd, but together the three played a tune that was gay and also sad. It was the same tune Don Baltasar, my grandfather, had marched to when he fought the Moors at the siege of Granada.

5
    D ARKNESS CAME and we moved northward. I remember nothing of this night. Nor much of the day which followed, except that I thought death was not far away. It was just beyond the horizon. It was there waiting for me because I had broken my solemn pledge to Admiral Alarcón.

    The sun rose in a cloudless sky, the same as before. We passed a large island without grass or tree or bush. The sun was a leech that sucked the moisture from our flesh.
    That night I remember well.
    At dusk the Captain gave us a sip of water and each a biscuit. Little water was left in the goatskin, but this he guarded, putting the goatskin between his knees, his sword within reach.
    It was quiet and the moon had risen when I heard behind me on the sea a thin, dry sound, like a knife cutting through silk. The sound grew louder and drew abreast of the boat and I saw a dark fin glide past. It curved away into the night, leaving a trail of
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