Hey, listen! Remæus needs your help! Spare just a moment of your time and 
James took a swig of rum and studied the bundle of papers bound for Assisi, Italy he’d stolen off that Spanish courier ship. If it weren’t for the label tag stuck between the paper wrapping and the twine, he would have left it behind: Marcos de Niza, 1539-1541. James had heard about Marcos de Niza. The man was a missionary attached to the army of Francisco Coronado, the famous Spanish explorer who had penetrated deep into the American interior. To his knowledge, no other white man had gone farther than him. De Niza had started out as a guide for the expedition in search of the Seven Cities of Cibola; cities founded by seven Spanish bishops in the 700s after they fled the Moorish invasion. Instead, de Niza lead Coronado to a poor Indian village, the first in a series of disappointments leading to the reality there were no Seven Cities of Cibola.
James didn’t have much time to go over the papers while aboard ship. They’d taken several hits in the battle and suffered casualties. They were short of hands, and needed to find a port quick. There was too much to worry about to spend time reading whatever a famous explorer had written about his own adventures. Now, James’ ship was port. The dead had been thrown overboard, and the wounded cast behind to recover, as James couldn’t have them slowing him down. The bribe he paid the harbormaster was only good for so long, and James did not want to dip into his savings to pay a higher price. That money was for his future: his house in Massachusetts, Adele’s passage from England, the supplies and tools he’d need to start a printing business… He’d dipped into that account too much and too often in the past, and wasn’t about to do it again. He did not want to go backwards again.
He was sitting in a half empty tavern, drinking his rum and relaxing from the heat of the day. Later, when the tavern became busier, he’d go about his real business of recruiting men to replace those whom he’d lost to injuries and battle. In the mean time, now was the time for some “light” reading. Once he could translate the Medieval, Papal Latin de Niza had used. He crumpled up the paper and studied the title of the book. Mi memoriam itineri ad auream urbem, it read. My memory journey to golden city. James could recognize many Latin words just by reading them. They were similar to many words in Spanish and French; and even some English ones. The only problem James had besides the late explorer’s atrocious handwriting (and to think the clergy were in charge of preserving literature during the Middle Ages) was the Roman “u.” It looked like a “v.”
James opened the ledger to the first page. He was surprised to find a piece of ceramic pottery laying on top of the page. James idly fingered the shard, then set it down. He took out his own set of ledgers from his sea bag – one containing Latin-to-English words, the other for translating foreign texts into English – and began reading. What followed was a fantastic account of how de Niza’s search for seven cities of legend became a visit to a tangible location, whose whereabouts had been deliberately hidden from the Spanish at the expense of the friar’s own credibility. What truly caught James’ attention was the wealth of the place. Their wealth is greater than that of the Aztec princes and the Inca lords. They brought us baskets made of grass, overflowing with gold, and bowls stacked with turquoise, diamonds, and rubies…
That’s… that’s… that’s more wealth than a man could plunder from a galleon. If I could just… It’s only a simple matter of finding these Pieces of Eight, and the Dead City. Just collect the pieces, assemble them, stick it in the hole, and viola! Enough treasure to buy myself a new reputation, a house, a press, and Adele’s ticket to America and I’m set. I can quit pirating for good! A broad smile crept across James’ face. He had to start his search for those pieces straight away. But first, he needed to rebuild his crew. He looked around the tavern in search of men to sail for him.
James didn’t have much time to go over the papers while aboard ship. They’d taken several hits in the battle and suffered casualties. They were short of hands, and needed to find a port quick. There was too much to worry about to spend time reading whatever a famous explorer had written about his own adventures. Now, James’ ship was port. The dead had been thrown overboard, and the wounded cast behind to recover, as James couldn’t have them slowing him down. The bribe he paid the harbormaster was only good for so long, and James did not want to dip into his savings to pay a higher price. That money was for his future: his house in Massachusetts, Adele’s passage from England, the supplies and tools he’d need to start a printing business… He’d dipped into that account too much and too often in the past, and wasn’t about to do it again. He did not want to go backwards again.
He was sitting in a half empty tavern, drinking his rum and relaxing from the heat of the day. Later, when the tavern became busier, he’d go about his real business of recruiting men to replace those whom he’d lost to injuries and battle. In the mean time, now was the time for some “light” reading. Once he could translate the Medieval, Papal Latin de Niza had used. He crumpled up the paper and studied the title of the book. Mi memoriam itineri ad auream urbem, it read. My memory journey to golden city. James could recognize many Latin words just by reading them. They were similar to many words in Spanish and French; and even some English ones. The only problem James had besides the late explorer’s atrocious handwriting (and to think the clergy were in charge of preserving literature during the Middle Ages) was the Roman “u.” It looked like a “v.”
James opened the ledger to the first page. He was surprised to find a piece of ceramic pottery laying on top of the page. James idly fingered the shard, then set it down. He took out his own set of ledgers from his sea bag – one containing Latin-to-English words, the other for translating foreign texts into English – and began reading. What followed was a fantastic account of how de Niza’s search for seven cities of legend became a visit to a tangible location, whose whereabouts had been deliberately hidden from the Spanish at the expense of the friar’s own credibility. What truly caught James’ attention was the wealth of the place. Their wealth is greater than that of the Aztec princes and the Inca lords. They brought us baskets made of grass, overflowing with gold, and bowls stacked with turquoise, diamonds, and rubies…
That’s… that’s… that’s more wealth than a man could plunder from a galleon. If I could just… It’s only a simple matter of finding these Pieces of Eight, and the Dead City. Just collect the pieces, assemble them, stick it in the hole, and viola! Enough treasure to buy myself a new reputation, a house, a press, and Adele’s ticket to America and I’m set. I can quit pirating for good! A broad smile crept across James’ face. He had to start his search for those pieces straight away. But first, he needed to rebuild his crew. He looked around the tavern in search of men to sail for him.
