Gentle knocking interrupted the captain’s thoughts. Diogo silently gripped the short sword at his waist and asked in a deep voice,
"Respected Noble Knight, Captain Diogo Cao. It’s me, the Royal Family’s Court Advisor, Martin Behaim."
The voice at the door came, in the Classical New Latin style. This revival of Latin in the style of the Roman era had not long since emerged, spreading mainly among the prosperous commercial City-States of Italy, alongside the trend of reviving classical art.
Diogo frowned. He could understand New Latin, but he preferred the Old Latin used by the Church. Now, he responded in an old-fashioned tone,
"Respected Court Advisor, please forgive me for not being able to rise to greet you, please come in directly."
The door to the captain’s quarters opened, and a young Noble Scholar entered. He was in his twenties or thirties, dressed in a complex noble outfit with deliberately tightened cuffs on his hands and feet, and shiny leather boots. Despite the sweltering climate, the Noble Scholar’s hair was soaked in sweat, but the buttons on his collar were done up tight.
He was Martin Behaim, the offspring of Nuremberg nobility, the son of a Republic of Venice congressman, a student of the astronomer Johannes Muller, and a Court Advisor to the Portuguese Royal Family.
Martin entered and sniffed lightly. There was a faint but unmistakable smell of blood in the captain’s quarters. He hesitated, then asked softly,
"Captain Diogo, how is your illness?"
"The Holy Mother is merciful to me, I am not greatly hindered."
Diogo responded calmly. He had already quietly covered up the navigation map on the captain’s table, the highest secret of the Royal Family.
Martin’s face showed a sincere smile. Then, he pulled out a piece of paper with numbers written on it from his chest and handed it to Diogo.
"Here, Captain! These are the latitudes I’ve surveyed this week, along with the recorded hydrographic data along the way."
"Praise the Almighty! Thank you for your help!"
Diogo replied with a smile. He took the paper, glanced at it, and nodded. Routine surveying of latitudes and recording hydrographic data were tasks normally performed by the captain or first mate. But now, with the first mate dead from coughing blood, and the captain himself suffering joint pains and trembling hands and feet, this important task had to be entrusted to the young Noble Scholar, Martin. In the current era, longitude could not yet be accurately measured and relied on the estimates of experienced navigators.
Martin stood still. He carefully observed the captain in front of him, as if at a fierce yet weakened lion. Now, he somewhat regretted participating in this dangerous voyage. The ocean voyage was not the romance he had imagined.
The difficult accommodation, the deplorable food, the seemingly endless journey, constantly tormented the young Noble Scholar. The seemingly gentle captain turned cold and ruthless when killing, like a lion. The vulgar sailors with blood on their hands were oppressed beasts on the ship, yet even more brutal than beasts on shore. What was even more terrifying was the Demon’s Curse on this land! It silently took away one fresh life after another, completely unforeseeable, regardless of one’s lineage or blood!
Martin stood for a while until the captain’s sharp gaze seemed to pierce through him.
"Scholar Martin, do you have any other matters?"
"Ah! Respected captain, I, I..."
Martin hesitated for a while, faltering. The suggestion to return remained stuck in his throat, unable to come out. It took a while before the Noble Scholar spoke,
"Captain Diogo, I feel that the atmosphere on the ship lately, is a bit off. The sailors sometimes gather privately..."
Diogo’s eyebrows lifted slightly as he nodded slowly.
"I understand. You may go now. If it’s convenient for you, please summon Noble Knight Bruno," said Diogo.
Martin turned to leave as if escaping. In the moment he opened the door, he remembered the nobility’s etiquette. So, the Noble Scholar turned his head and made the sign of the Cross on his chest.
"May the Almighty protect us!"
"May the Lord give protection!"
Diogo responded calmly, watching Martin hurry away. He stood straight, his right hand always tightly gripping the short sword by his side, becoming a silent statue. After a while, the door to the captain’s quarters was knocked again, and a familiar voice came,
"Captain, did you call for me?"
The door "creaked" open, and Bruno, dressed in a tight sailor’s uniform, cautiously entered.
"I greet you, respected captain."
Diogo nodded. He looked at his outstanding nephew and showed a melancholic smile. Then, his gaze sharpened, and his expression turned serious,
"Bruno, how have the sailors been these past few days?"
Bruno raised his head to look at the captain’s expression, then bowed respectfully.
"Four days ago, the sailors landed and plundered a native village, which somewhat lifted their spirits. But yesterday, two more sailors fell gravely ill and were cast into the river. The sailors aboard fear the power of the Demon, praying day and night to the Holy Mother, some even becoming delirious..."
"The Holy Mother’s power will protect us from the Demon’s onslaught," said Diogo, his left hand clutching the Silver Cross around his neck, resolute.
"Those who can’t resist are harboring Demons and lack devotion!"
With this, Diogo swept a glance at Bruno, then asked quietly,
"Besides praying, are there any other voices among the sailors?"
Bruno paused before replying in a low voice,
"Indeed, there are some voices, wanting... wanting to return."