Pêro tried to meet the Jesuits’ vexed glances with fortitude and ease, while his guts knotted. Swords of silver, espada, fish slithered and cut at the whitecaps next to the boat. Pêro waited his turn to board, he watched the black-robed Brotherhood ascend, and wished he had his own Order’s russet habit. This time he did not hesitate to reach for the thick rope rungs but leapt up and scrambled onto the deck. Cresting the rails, he entered a sea-bound village.
espada, . Sailors set cords into neat piles like hand coiled clay pots. Deckhands tossed vinegary buckets of water across the decks, while others scrubbed down wooden planks. Seamen dangled from outriggers like monkeys. Pêro looked on as a man shimmied up a tall mast. Shouts and commands shot across the tri-level decks — like pebbles
