"Vaffanculo! You damned fools! I am the Expedition Commander, I am your head! And you dare bargain with me?!... I have every right to requisition the extra sails and supplies from your two ships!..."
"No. The Lord bear witness! You have no such right."
"Merda! I do! This is the right the Queen gave me!"
"Heh! I think you cannot represent the Queen. Only the honorable royal steward Gutierrez has the right to judge on the Queen's behalf! And you are nothing but a failed, unlucky naval commander in charge of only thirty men, chased and beaten on the backside by natives..."
"Minchia! Big Pinzon, you're courting death! I'll hang you from the mast!..."
"Ha! Come on, draw your sword! I'd like to see just how many people on the flagship will support a greedy, failed, unlucky pauper like you!..."
"Ah! Damn it!!..."
The sea wind surged, harsh mockery echoed across the deck, and the clang of drawn swords rang through the whole ship. On the flagship Santa Maria, flashes of blades were everywhere now.
The three Castilian captains, with more than twenty trusted men under them, had all drawn their weapons. They split into two groups of roughly equal number, blade tips pointed at each other, facing off on the deck. A brutal internal slaughter seemed ready to erupt at the slightest touch!
In this Age of Discovery, of adventure and death, on this sea without law or morality, the struggle between captains and Sailors was just this direct and cruel! If a captain wanted to hold power, he had to kill to establish his authority, bring wealth to the Sailors, and distribute it as much as possible within acceptable limits. And once he lost a fight and revealed weakness and impotence, power grabs and challenges within, brutal infighting