2. Captivity

I am ever so grateful for the appreciation thou bestowest on my letters, I only aspire to be a worthy follower of the style of writing thou, Miss Celia, hath so graciously shared with me by making me your humble disciple and now correspondent.

Returning to my narrative, my captivity under the Raja Bungsu started as a strenuous ordeal. I was chained and imprisoned in a small cage. Of my fellow captives, their fates were kept hidden to me. I was fed a loathsome gruel, barely enough to keep me alive, and regularly beaten with long sticks across my cage's bars. After I lost track of time, I was released from the cage and put in shackles to toil in the rice paddies. While the laborers went about  I got a visit of a man in European garb. He introduced himself Master Jan de Graeff. After my initial surprise at hearing him address me in Spanish, he recognized my reticence and addressed my qualms. Father Miguel had already instructed us against the dangers of the devilish Lutheran heresy practiced by another European power, the Dutch. In my disadvantaged condition, I was prone to accept him as a friend. He explained me that he was acting as an adviser to the Sultan of Sulu, that's how he called him, on behalf of the Dutch Company of the East Indies, and had just brokered an embassy to the Sultanate of Atxe. He said he had convinced Bungsu that I, having gained some reknown, would be a good addition to the presents for the new ruler, a queen. He offered me the office of his informer at her court, taking for granted a grateful compliance on my behalf and an animosity towards the Moors given my affiliation. I didn't inquire much else from him, so though suspicious, with no choice but to follow his lead, my willpower weakened and I gave in.

Bungsu's interest was caught by the accounts of my fighting, and eventually called me to his presence. An imposing figure, he talked to me through Master Jan as an interpreter. It galled me to be cut off from the transactions, and I decided I was to learn the local tongue. In the building of the fort the natives had caught up fast to our Christian language, and it was them who did most of the translating for us when needed. Now it was a clear disadvantage to be unable to communicate by myself. I learned I was to be captive till the embassy was ready, although better fed and treated. A close watch was kept on me as I was instructed on some of their manners. I was also given a slave girl for company, taken years ago from an inland heathen people. She had been under moorish captivity, serving in the palace for years, therefore very useful in my instruction of their language as well. I learned the other Christians were toiling as slaves, and as expected I was kept at a distance from them. Once, one of my former companions caught sight of me and gave a look of reproach that I can only understand, seeing me I in better shape, not as emanciated as a laboring slave. As the launching of the embassy neared, I found myself all the less eager to escape, my curiosity wetted by familiarity with the Mahometan mores. I was clad as a moor and brought under a proper roof. This queen I was being presented to was called the Sultana, a name that made the upcoming events seem all the more intriguing.

Finally we set sail, Master Jan bidding me farewell at the pier. I entrusted to his charity the well-being of the other Christian soldiers in this stronghold and also for Yalma, the slave-girl. He told me not to worry about my comrades, as they would all be put to good use and a fair treatment, words that did not sooth me as I wished. During our sailing I learned my captors feared an encounter with some Christian vessel, and since they were not ready to entrust me a sword and a rope, it required my returning to a severe bondage, though without no mistreatment, the last of that kind I was to suffer for many a year.