"Qué guarro! Under the glory of the Lord, I have actually beheld such ugliness and baseness. Even the dung in a pigsty, even the corpse-maggots in hell, are cleaner than the tears of your repentance!..."
"Ha! Come on, then! Chachu, Caro, Antonio! You actually bow your heads to savage natives, beg forgiveness from the false gods of heathens... Ignorant, foolish madmen, you fear the blades and axes of the natives, yet do you not know to fear the Lord's judgment?! I will remember your blasphemous names, and the Lord will remember them too!..."
"Do it! You have all already worshiped false gods and evil demons, so what are you afraid of now?... The Lord will know all, judge all! The fires of purgatory have long since been lit for you!..."
On the Oared Longship, under the eyes of dozens of Kingdom Warriors, clerk Rodrigo knelt on the deck, yet his aged head was held high. Beside him, the royal steward Gutierrez pressed his lips tight, his face full of unease, worry, and terror.
Two steps away, boatswain Chachu gripped the sharp Obsidian Dagger, his gaze shifting uncertainly. Behind him were the equally shrinking goldsmith Caro and carpenter Antonio. They all knew clerk Rodrigo's identity: a Royal Representative with a Church background, worlds apart from an ordinary sailor! And if they truly brought this blade down, then in the Kingdom of Castile, there would probably be no place for them anymore!...
"...non solum impiorum animae, verum etiam qui eorum corpora dilanient inmortales vermes..."
Clerk Rodrigo extended his right hand, bringing thumb, index finger, and middle finger together at one point while the other two fingers pressed close to his palm, making a devout "sign of the cross." Then, with the gesture representing the Lord, he pointed at the three hesitant, cringing