Chapter 354 The End of 1485 AD, the Voyage of Death

In November 1485, in the middle reaches of the Congo River, more than a thousand miles from the river's mouth, Gombe Matadi. In the Congo language, this place name means "walking on the rocky land".

The turbulent torrent rushed from the highlands upstream, hitting the steep river banks and washing the dense rainforest. White pelicans flapped their wings, flying up and down in the green river, hunting fat river fish. Black mosquitoes buzzed and spun, gathering in groups in the blue sky, chasing the bloody smell. Further away, misty water mist rose and lingered, and the endless jungle blocked the sky. There was no trace of human habitation everywhere, only the primitive wilderness.

At this time, three caravel sailboats, in the turbulent torrent, with the help of a little westerly wind, struggled to move upstream to the east. The leading flagship was slightly larger in size, and the flag of the Portuguese royal family was flying on the tall mast. Several curious water birds were attracted and chased the slow-moving sailboat, circling around the mast.

Captain Diogo Con was pale and melancholy. He sat in the captain's room at the stern, motionless, like a silent sculpture. Even in the hot tropics, he was still wrapped in a thick wool blanket. From time to time, the "sculpture" would tremble slightly and make a few suppressed dry coughs.

In front of the "sculpture", a roll of parchment was spread out. Next to the parchment was a feather pen dipped in ink, a simple protractor, and a parallel nautical ruler. On the parchment, there were curved lines, precise latitude lines, blurred longitude lines, and fine Portuguese markings. Obviously, this was a newly drawn nautical map.

The north of the map was the starting point of the voyage, the capital of the kingdom, Lisbon. Last August, the Portuguese ocean-going fleet set sail from Lisbon, heading south, passing through the Madeira Islands, the Canary Islands, the Cape Verde Islands, crossing the Gulf of Guinea, approaching the Gold Coast, and finally arriving at the newly built Elmina Castle this spring.

At Elmina Castle, the ocean-going fleet was divided into two. Two-thirds of the ships in the fleet, and most of the soldiers, were led by Sir Dias and stationed in the port of Elmina Castle.

Sir Dias will lead more than 600 sailors and soldiers on the ship to conquer the nearby indigenous tribes. The royal order is very clear, that is, gold, gold, and more gold! They will clean up the surrounding villages as much as possible, plunder expensive gold, capture strong slaves, and then use them as miners to work in the gold mines around Elmina Castle.

Captain Diogo led five caravels and continued to go south. He crossed the equatorial doldrums with difficulty, lost a sailboat, and arrived at the wide Congo River estuary again. Then, the turbulent river, the boundless rain forest, and the swarms of mosquitoes appeared in front of everyone again. Seeing this scene, the crew members who survived the last exploration were all terrified and whispered "the devil's land".

Diogo was not afraid. With a gloomy expression, he personally hanged the sailor who shouted the most fiercely on the bow. Then, he held the silver cross given by his old friend, prayed devoutly to God, and led the fleet without hesitation, sailed into the estuary, and headed for the devil's land.

Under the scorching sun, the fleet went up the river for six or seven hundred miles. The devil's land is full of black-skinned pagans, evil bloody altars, powerful indigenous kingdoms, and thousands of tribal warriors holding iron spears.

Diogo suppressed the murderous intent in his heart, met the envoys of the King of Congo with a gentle expression, and exchanged gifts to express friendship. Then, two Lisbon priests and four envoys got off the fleet and went to Mbanza Kongo, the capital of Congo, at the invitation of the King of Congo. There, they were to tell King Nziga Nkuwu about the teachings of God and try to spread the glory of God.

After a short supply, Diogo left the populous indigenous kingdom. The crowd once again went up the Congo River, looking for the legendary rich land, the powerful country of Elder John. As the fleet went deeper, the population gradually became sparse, the forest became denser, and the power of the devil became stronger.

One after another, the strong sailors fell down helplessly under the curse of the devil. They either had fever and chills, or red eyes and tongues, or even bleeding from the mouth and nose, and red rashes all over their bodies, wailing and dying in despair. The number of sailors soon became insufficient, and the fleet was forced to abandon a sailboat. Even Diogo himself suffered from the pain of alternating colds and fevers from time to time.

Faced with such a situation, Diogo could only grit his teeth and endure it, praying devoutly to God, and then throwing the sick sailors into the surging river. Then, he finally gave in and let the sailors go ashore to plunder, slaughter several tribal villages, vent the desire of wild beasts, and then capture some local natives as coolies on the ship.

Under Diogo's iron will, the route of death continued for more than 400 miles. The route turned into a long river with fresh ink marks on the map in front of him, flowing to the mysterious and unknown East. The captain devoutly sensed the voice of God, and the clear call seemed to be right in front of him.

Thinking of this, Diogo raised his head slightly and looked at the birds on the mast through the small window of the captain's room. The brave birds circled among the royal flags, like the iris tribe on the cape, looking for a place to live and chasing the sacred light.

"Dong Dong Dong"

The gentle knocking interrupted the captain's thoughts. Diogo silently grasped the dagger at his waist and asked in a deep voice.

"Who?"

"Respected Royal Knight, Captain Diogo Con. It's me, the royal adviser, Martin Beheim."

The voice at the door was a classical new Latin. This new Latin, which imitated the Roman era, had not been around for long. Along with the trend of reviving classical art, it was mainly spread in the prosperous Italian commercial city-states.

Diogo frowned. He could understand the new Latin, but was more accustomed to the old Latin used by the church. At this time, he answered in an old-fashioned tone.

"Dear royal adviser, please forgive me for not being able to get up to greet you. Please come in directly."

The door of the captain's room opened immediately, and a young noble scholar walked in. He was only in his twenties or thirties, wearing a complicated noble costume, with the cuffs of his hands and feet deliberately tied, and a pair of shiny cowhide boots on his feet. The climate was so hot that the noble scholar's hair was soaked with sweat, but the buttons on his collar were buttoned tightly.

He was Martin Beheim, a descendant of the Nuremberg nobles, the son of a member of the Republic of Venice, a student of astronomer John Muller, and a court adviser to the Portuguese royal family.

Martin walked in and sniffed gently. There was an indelible smell of blood in the captain's room. He hesitated and asked softly.

"Captain Diogo, is your condition better?"

"The merciful Virgin Mary protects me, I'm fine."

Diogo replied calmly. He had quietly covered the nautical map on the captain's desk, which was the top secret of the royal family.

"Ah! That's good."

Martin showed a sincere smile on his face. Then, he took out a piece of paper with numbers from his arms and handed it to Diogo.

"Here, Captain! This is the latitude I have measured in the past week, and the hydrology along the way."

"Praise the Lord! Thank you for your help!"

Diogo responded with a smile. He took the paper, glanced at it, and nodded. Regularly measuring latitude and recording hydrology should be the work of the captain or the first mate. But now the first mate on the ship has died of coughing up blood, and the captain himself has joint pain and trembling hands and feet. This important work can only be handed over to the young noble scholar Martin. By the way, in the current era, longitude cannot be accurately measured and can only be estimated by senior navigators.

Martin stood there. He looked at the captain in front of him carefully, as if he was looking at a ferocious and weak lion. At this moment, he already regretted participating in this dangerous voyage. The ocean voyage was not as romantic as he imagined.

The difficult and torturous accommodation, the extremely bad food, and the seemingly endless voyage tortured the young noble scholar all the time. The seemingly gentle captain was as ruthless as a lion when killing people. The vulgar sailors had blood on their hands. They were suppressed beasts on the ship and more cruel than beasts on the shore. What was even more terrifying was the curse of the devil on this land! It silently took away fresh lives, completely defenseless, not to mention origin and bloodline!

Martin stood for a long time until the captain looked over. The gaze was so sharp that it seemed to pierce him.

"Martin scholar, do you have anything else to say?"

"Ah! Dear captain, I, I"

Martin hesitated for a while, wanting to say something but stopped. The suggestion to return was stuck in his throat, but he could never say it. After a long while, the noble scholar spoke.

"Captain Diogo, I feel that the atmosphere on the ship has been a little off lately. Sailors sometimes have private gatherings."

"Oh?"

Diogo raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly.

"I see, please go down. If it is convenient, please call the noble knight Bruno."

"Okay!"

Martin turned and left as if fleeing. The moment he opened the door, he remembered the etiquette of the nobles. So, the noble scholar turned around and made a cross on his chest.

"May God bless us!"

"May God bless us!"

Diogo replied calmly, watching Martin leave in a hurry. He straightened his spine, his right hand always tightly grasping the dagger at his side, and turned into a silent statue. After a while, the door of the captain's room was knocked again, and a familiar voice came.

"Captain, you are looking for me?"

"Come in, Bruno."

The door opened with a "creak", and Bruno walked in carefully in a tight sailor suit.

"Greetings, respected captain."

Diogo nodded. He looked at the outstanding nephews and nephews of the clan and smiled sadly. Then, his eyes became sharp and his face became serious.

"Bruno, how are the sailors these days?"

"Ah?"

Bruno looked up at the captain's expression and bowed his head in awe.

"Four days ago, the sailors went ashore and slaughtered an indigenous village, which boosted their morale. But yesterday, two more sailors were seriously ill and thrown into the river. The sailors on the ship feared the power of the devil and prayed to the Virgin Mary day and night. Some even went crazy."

"The power of the Virgin Mary will protect us and resist the invasion of the devil."

Diogo held the silver cross on his neck with his left hand and said firmly.

"Those who cannot resist are those who harbor the devil in their hearts and are not pious enough!"

At this point, Diogo glanced at Bruno lightly and asked calmly.

"In addition to prayer, do the sailors have any other voices?"

"Others"

Bruno paused for a while before replying in a low voice.

"There are indeed some sounds, and they want to return."

"Hmm?"

Diogo's eyes revealed a cold murderous intent. But soon, he lowered his eyes and restrained all his emotions. After a few breaths, a gentle smile appeared on his face.

"Bruno, you are my nephew, I have always valued you. I remember that not long ago, you married a Moorish woman and moved to Lisbon?"

"Ah? Yes, Captain. She is the sister of the former boatswain Paul, and we moved to Lisbon together."

"Well, do you like her very much?"

Diogo asked with a smile.

"Yes. She is very beautiful, with a delicate appearance, and she is good to me. Bless her! She was pregnant before I left."

Speaking of his wife, Bruno's face showed a happy smile.

"Bless her! Very good."

Diogo patted Bruno's shoulder affectionately. Then, his eyes were bright and he said in a deep voice.

"Bruno, you got married and had children, and you became a real man, knowing the meaning of responsibility! In the last contact with the indigenous kingdom, you made contributions and showed enough courage. Taking responsibility and having courage are the two most important virtues of a good man in Avis!"

"We are sailing on the land of the devil, and we must muster up the courage to take on the responsibilities given to us by the kingdom! This voyage is so important. Our responsibility is to discover the country of Elder John, even if it costs the lives of noble people, because this will be related to the fate of the kingdom, the support of the Holy See, and the future of us Portuguese! Ahem!"

While speaking, Diogo suddenly coughed violently. Bunoru stepped forward and wanted to support the captain, but he raised his hand to stop him.

"Ahem, I'm fine! Under the protection of the Virgin Mary, honest and brave fishermen, farmers and mountain people, all Portuguese will stand together and will never succumb to their neighbors in the East. My child, think about it, if the Spaniards merge with us, the Inquisition will follow. What will happen to your wife and children?"

Hearing this, Bunoru's heart trembled. He looked at the captain's resolute face, couldn't help but kneel on one knee and made a promise loudly.

"Captain! I will definitely muster up the courage to take my responsibility and continue to sail!"

"Okay! Bruno, you are different from those low-level sailors. You have the blood of the noble. I always have hope for you."

Diogo smiled and put his hand on Bunoru's shoulder. Then, his expression was solemn and his eyes were cold.

"Bruno, keep an eye on the sailors on the ship for me. Find the leader who secretly colluded, and then tell me."

"Yes, Captain."

Hearing this, Bunoru felt a chill on his back and broke out in a cold sweat. He quickly lowered his head and prayed devoutly.

"The Virgin Mary bless us! We will definitely find the country of Elder John!"

"The Virgin Mary bless us!"

Diogo nodded calmly.

"Go down, there are still many things to do on the ship."

Bunoru saluted and then turned to leave. He walked out of the cabin and looked up at the sky. The tropical sun was so hot that his back was covered with sweat. He walked a few steps worriedly, scolded a few sailors on the deck, and then went down to the cool cabin.

Bunulu walked worriedly in the cabin for a while, and a trusted sailor came up to him.

"Boss, the quartermaster Martim is looking for you."

"Martim is looking for me? It's not time to repair the weapons yet, right?"

Bunulu was a little surprised. The quartermaster is a necessary position on every ship, responsible for the storage and distribution of weapons. In the early days of the Age of Exploration, the sources of ordinary sailors were very mixed, and their loyalty was not reliable. Most of the time during the voyage, their weapons would be confiscated and kept by the quartermaster until they were distributed before the battle.

"Boss, Martim said that he had just repaired some weapons, so he asked you to pick two first. If you go too late, they will be gone!"

".Okay. I'll pick two for you too. Where is he?"

"The supply cabin in front."

The supply cabin was not far ahead. Bunulu didn't hesitate and strode over.

The light below the deck was dim and the smell was extremely bad. Two sailors were guarding the hatch, both with short knives on their waists. When they saw Bruno coming, they opened the hatch halfway and invited Bruno in.

"Haha! Martim, you finally remembered"

Bruno walked into the dim cabin with a smile, and looked at the figure in front of him, but his words suddenly stopped.

Inside the small cabin, there were four burly men, staring at him coldly. Bruno recognized them for a moment, and cold sweat flowed down from the back of his neck.

"Quartermaster Martim, boatswain Diego, chef Haroldo, carpenter Ivo, you are all here?!"

"Bang!"

The hatch behind him slammed shut, and the cabin suddenly became dark. Only the faint candlelight was left, illuminating the four gloomy people. The dim shadows changed on everyone's faces, like the power of the devil.