Chapter 1206 - Doña Marina

"That's true—actually, quite a few of the prisoners this time aren't even Spanish. I doubt they're particularly loyal to Their Catholic Majesties—just 'whoever pays feeds me' types."

Neither man pursued this topic further. Using European prisoners was a sensitive subject, and until the Senate's wind direction became clearer, no one wanted to voice their real thoughts first.

To change the subject, Chen Haiyang said: "I hear we captured a Spanish mare this time—quite a rare catch..."

"I'm puzzled too—why would a ship bound for the Philippines be carrying a noblewoman?"

"How do you know she's a noblewoman?"

"She has several servants, she was quartered in the sterncastle, and she had many chests of valuable luggage." Qian Shuiting had read the mission reports by Lin Chuanqing and the others. "She's clearly not an ordinary person."

"However noble she is, what use is she to us?" Chen Haiyang laughed. "I just worry we'll have another fight over a woman."

Though most transmigrators leaned toward Han chauvinism and weren't exactly enamored of Europeans—though they didn't go so far as Liu Zheng and Xiao Bailang, who routinely spoke of "white pseudo-humans" and "white piggies"—they did generally regard them with some disdain.

White women, however, were a different matter. The transmigrators were practically obsessed with them. Yu Eshui once said while drunk that many transmigrators were actually devotees of the "Worship the Foreign Mare" cult. The three characters for "big foreign mare" were practically a trigger—whenever anyone mentioned it on the BBS, there'd be hundreds of replies.

This heaven-sent Spanish woman, rather than a beautiful prize, was more like a ticking time bomb.

"No worries—we'll just auction her off per the Prize Disposal Regulations. Everyone bids freely, highest bidder wins." Qian Shuiting said casually. "If people still feel it isn't fair, just send her to Lingao's Ziming Tower—serve the masses and be done with it."

"Won't that make the Queen throw a fit? She'd slap an 'insulting women' label on you right away..." The two bantered as they walked on.

While they discussed the mare's disposal, at the Foreign Intelligence Bureau, dossiers on the young woman had already been compiled on Li Yan's desk.

The Bureau's interest in this young lady was natural: in an era when ocean travel was extremely perilous, a noblewoman rarely risked a voyage—let alone from the developed American colonies to a new colony like Manila. Only some pressing necessity would drive her to do so.

Combined with the large amount of luggage she carried, it increasingly seemed that her trip to Manila had some long-term purpose rather than merely a brief visit.

According to interrogations of the captain and senior officers and examination of the passenger manifest, the young lady was named Doña Marina de Arellano, daughter of a peninsular. The captain only knew she came from a Dominican convent near Mexico City that specialized in accepting girls of noble birth. The person who had commissioned her voyage had instructed him only to deliver her safely to Manila—beyond that he knew nothing.

This information drew Li Yan's attention. Combined with the mercury shipment far exceeding normal requirements, Li Yan believed something unusual was happening in Manila.

He immediately met with Jiang Shan to report and requested that Jiang Shan approach the Executive Committee: temporarily suspend disposing of this Spanish lady under the Prize Disposal Regulations and instead "freeze" her.

"She may prove useful!" Li Yan said. "If we shave her head, using her later would be very complicated."

He was referring to the fact that if they wanted to allow her to be ransomed or to use her for certain purposes, "purification" measures like shaving her head would be considered deeply humiliating by the standards of this era. Her family would find it unacceptable.

"You're right—there are quite a few mysteries about these two ships." Jiang Shan agreed. "I'll go to the Executive Committee now."

In the temporary detention center of Bopu's quarantine zone, all the Spanish prisoners from both ships were being held. Yang He had already compiled basic statistics: excluding those who'd died from worsening injuries en route, 289 prisoners had entered the quarantine area. Of these, four were female. Ages ranged from eleven—a cabin boy—to sixty-five—the captain of the San Raimundo.

Though detailed interrogations hadn't yet been conducted, skin color and features made clear they weren't all Spanish. Some had the typical yellow-skinned faces suggesting Southeast Asian or American indigenous sailors.

Though the Executive Committee had decided to screen and interrogate them before determining their fate, cleaning their filthy bodies was an essential first step. The quarantine camp staff quickly sprang into action.

Doña Marina de Arellano sat alone on a long bench fixed to the ground, awaiting "purification." In accordance with the modesty taught in her convent, she kept her head demurely lowered.

This shelter could normally hold a hundred "awaiting purification" native women. Now only she and her three maids occupied it. The three maids sat in a row of chairs behind her—as always, maintaining silence.

Though the Widow Tolosa said nothing, Marina could still feel her severe, vigilant gaze upon her back.

That hateful witch! Marina thought, sincerely loathing this dueña who had accompanied her from New Spain.

The Widow Tolosa was a widow—many years a widow—devoutly religious and extremely pious. She viewed carnal desire and worldly temptation as the greatest sins, which made her the ideal companion and chaperone in the eyes of respectable families with young ladies or wives.

Marina had grown up in a New Spain convent. This particular convent specialized in receiving young ladies from distinguished families. It gave them an education until they could be claimed by their families for marriage—those who couldn't or wouldn't marry would stay to take formal vows as nuns.

Because the girls mostly came from noble families who often made substantial donations on their behalf, this convent wasn't as strictly regulated or austere as typical convents. Setting aside the excess of religious activities and the tedium of never being permitted outside year-round, life in the convent wasn't hard to bear.

By comparison, it was the days after leaving the convent—being accompanied by this dueña—that proved more unbearable. The Widow Tolosa watched her every movement like the sternest jailer. Any behavior she deemed frivolous earned a "reminder"—if not an outright rebuke.

She'd even forced Marina to sleep with her hands outside the covers—"to prevent us from touching our sinful bodies!" Marina recalled the shame and fury she'd felt when the Widow Tolosa had said this to her face. The convent sisters had said similar things, but they'd never forced her to make such a gesture.

But she knew she had no right to resist the Widow Tolosa—this woman had been personally selected by her father. And she depended on her father for everything. So she had no choice but to endure the Widow Tolosa's "companionship."

Even being captured by pirates hadn't freed her from the woman! Marina silently cursed!

As for being captured, though she'd initially been frightened and terrified, her spirits had gradually calmed once aboard ship. These pirates, though strange-looking and possessing incredible vessels that spewed black smoke, were neatly uniformed and strictly disciplined—in no way inferior to the finest Spanish regiments from the Peninsula.

As long as they weren't a savage, ignorant rabble, she had nothing to fear. Given her birth and status, any rational pirate would treat her courteously in hopes of extracting a ransom, and her family would certainly pay to redeem her. She'd simply have to idle away a year or so in this unknown, desolate land.

As for the Widow Tolosa—obviously her father wouldn't pay ransom for such a lowly woman. Let her stay here as a slave. The thought of what might befall the sanctimonious Widow Tolosa brought a small smile to her lips.

Yet several hours had passed since they'd been brought from the ship to this "pirate camp." Not a single pirate had come to assign them quarters. Marina found this very strange.

The prison camp seemed quite busy. From beyond the tall wooden palisade came intermittent voices of men and women speaking in incomprehensible languages—sometimes shouting and bellowing, sometimes wails and cries.

These sounds rekindled fear in the previously composed young lady's heart. She began to tremble slightly.

What she didn't know was that the delay stemmed from a dispute between the Intelligence Bureau and the quarantine camp over "whether to shave their heads." The Bureau, for certain considerations, argued that only essential cleaning was needed. But Yang He insisted on shaving them completely bald.

The dispute was escalated all the way to the Executive Committee before a clear order came down: "No shaving, but they must be thoroughly washed clean!"

"What an irresponsible order!" Yang He grumbled, summoning several of her most capable, sturdy middle-aged women. She relayed the order.

"Wash that young white woman's hair until it's spotless!" Yang He commanded fiercely. "Get plenty of fine-toothed combs and go through it dozens of times! Don't skimp on soap or hot water—I want it perfectly clean!"

The workers all nodded. The team leader asked: "What about the other three?"

Yang He laughed coldly. "Need you even ask? Shave them all bald—not a single hair left."

(End of Chapter)