Page 55 of A Sea Captain and A Stowaway (Gentleman Scholars #7)
“The medallion,” she breathed, understanding dawning. “It wasn’t just a navigational tool — it was the key itself.”
But she didn’t have it with her. Without it, how could they access whatever lay beyond? The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted her desperate search for an alternative solution. She whirled, pistol in hand, prepared to defend herself if Blackwell’s men had broken through Sidney’s defences.
But it was Sidney himself who emerged from the vegetation, his clothing torn and dirty, a fresh cut on his cheek but otherwise unharmed. The relief that flooded through Docila was so intense she nearly dropped the weapon.
“Blackwell arrived with fewer men than I feared,” he explained quickly, moving to join her beside the boulder. “Mateo and his crew fought bravely, and we managed to drive them back to the inlet. But they’ll regroup and return — we have minutes at most.”
“The alignment occurred,” Docila told him, indicating the boulder. “I believe this conceals the entrance to Alvarado’s hiding place. But we need the medallion to open it — there’s an indentation here, shaped to receive it precisely.”
Sidney knelt to examine the mechanism, his expression shifting from disappointment to thoughtful consideration.
“The shape is specific,” he agreed, “but perhaps not unique.” He reached into his pocket, extracting a gold coin — one of those he had used to hire Mateo and his crew.
“Spanish doubloon, minted in the same era as El Dorado’s voyage.
Not identical to your father’s medallion, but perhaps similar enough in size. ..”
He pressed the coin into the indentation. For a long moment, nothing happened — then, with a grinding sound that suggested long-disused mechanisms coming reluctantly to life, the boulder began to shift, pivoting slowly on a hidden axis to reveal a dark opening beyond.
“It worked!” Docila exclaimed, already reaching for the small lantern they had brought. Her fingers trembled slightly as she lit it, the flame illuminating a narrow passage that led downward into the earth, steps cut into the living rock descending into darkness.
Sidney took the lantern from her, standing poised at the entrance to the passage.
“I’ll go first,” he said. “Stay close behind me, and be ready to retreat if necessary. We don’t know what traps Alvarado might have left to protect his secret.”
Together they descended into the earth, the air growing cooler and damper with each step.
The passage was remarkably well-constructed, its walls smoothed and reinforced with timber supports that had somehow survived the centuries.
After perhaps thirty feet of descent, the stairs levelled out into a small chamber carved from the bedrock itself, its walls lined with wooden shelves and storage chests.
But it was what stood at the centre of the chamber that drew their eyes and held them fixed in astonishment — a model ship, exquisitely detailed and nearly five feet in length, crafted entirely of gold and silver with accents of precious gems catching the lantern light in brilliant flashes of colour.
El Dorado herself, recreated in miniature from the very treasure she had carried.
“Magnificent,” Sidney breathed, moving closer to examine the extraordinary object. “Alvarado didn’t just hide the treasure — he transformed it into a monument to the ship itself.”
Docila approached from the other side, her scholar’s eye noting details that might escape a less observant viewer.
“Look at the craftsmanship,” she marvelled. “Every sail, every line of rigging, every cannon portrayed with perfect accuracy. This wasn’t merely constructed to secure the gold — it was created as a work of art in its own right.”
As they circled the golden ship, other treasures revealed themselves — chests filled with coins and jewels, racks holding ceremonial weapons inlaid with precious stones, delicate figurines carved from jade and amber.
The wealth represented was staggering, yet it was the golden ship that dominated the chamber, drawing the eye back to its gleaming perfection.
“El Dorado sails forever in the Sea of Stars,” Docila quoted softly, understanding at last the inscription’s meaning.
“Not a poetic metaphor but a literal description. Alvarado recreated his ship in gold, ensuring that even though the actual vessel might be lost or destroyed, El Dorado would sail eternally in this secret chamber, beneath a sky of gems.”
Sidney nodded, a strange expression crossing his face as he surveyed the treasure — not the triumphant exultation she might have expected after years of pursuit, but something more complex, almost contemplative.
“All this,” he said quietly. “Years of searching, of piecing together clues, of sacrifices made and risks taken. And now that we’ve found it. ..”
He turned to her, his gaze holding hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. “It means nothing without you beside me to share in its discovery.”
Before she could respond, the sound of voices reached them from the passage above — Blackwell and his men had found the open entrance. Sidney’s expression hardened, the vulnerable moment replaced by tactical assessment as he quickly scanned their surroundings for defensive positions.
But as they moved to take up positions, another voice called from above — Mateo, urgent with warning. “Captain! We’ve secured the entrance, but cannot hold it long! You must come now if you wish to escape!”
“We cannot carry all of this,” Sidney said, making a swift decision.
“But we can take enough to secure our future and reward Mateo and his men for their courage.” He moved quickly to one of the smaller chests, confirming it contained gold coins rather than bulkier items. “This will suffice for now. We know the location — we can return once Blackwell is dealt with permanently.”
Docila nodded, already gathering a handful of the most valuable gems from a nearby display. The golden ship they would have to leave behind for now, though the thought pained her deeply.
As if reading her thoughts, Sidney paused beside the model of El Dorado, his hand hovering over its intricate craftsmanship before reaching decisively for a small figurehead mounted at its prow — a golden mermaid, small enough to fit in his palm yet detailed with the same exquisite care as the larger vessel.
“A token,” he said, slipping it into his pocket. “And a promise that we’ll return for the rest.”
Together they made their way back up the passage, the chest of gold between them heavy but manageable. At the top, they found Mateo and two companions engaged in a desperate holding action against Blackwell’s men, who were attempting to force their way past the narrow entrance.
“Hold them back!” Sidney shouted, setting down his end of the chest to join the fight. The narrow passage worked in their favor — Blackwell’s men could only approach a few at a time, negating their superior numbers.
After several intense minutes of gunfire and hand-to-hand combat, they managed to drive the attackers back far enough for Sidney to implement their contingency plan.
Working quickly, he and Mateo used the small explosive charges they had prepared, bringing down carefully weakened sections of rock to seal the entrance.
The rumble of falling stone was deafening, and when the dust settled, the passage was completely blocked. Whatever treasure remained inside was now safely beyond Blackwell’s reach — though it was also beyond theirs, at least for now.
“That should hold them,” Sidney said grimly, shouldering his share of the chest they had managed to salvage. “But we need to move. Blackwell will have more men, and he won’t give up easily.”
The next minutes passed in a blur of desperate action as they retreated into the jungle, using their quickly acquired knowledge of the terrain to evade Blackwell’s pursuing forces.
They had nearly reached the small cove where their boat waited when disaster struck — another group of Blackwell’s men emerged from the vegetation directly in their path.
In the confusion, Docila found herself separated from Sidney, a burly seaman grabbing for the pouch at her waist. Without hesitation, she employed the defensive techniques her father had taught her, driving her knee upward with precise force while simultaneously striking at her attacker’s throat.
Sidney appeared as if conjured by her desperate need, his cutlass flashing in the dappled sunlight. With clean, economical movements born of years at sea, he drove back her attacker, creating space for her to retreat toward where Mateo was holding the path to the boat.
“Go!” Sidney urged her. “Get to the boat — I’ll hold them here while you and Mateo escape with the chest!”
But Docila stood her ground, drawing the pistol and taking careful aim at a man attempting to circle behind Sidney. The shot rang out, her aim true enough to wound rather than kill, sending the attacker stumbling back with a cry of pain.
“I’m not leaving without you,” she stated firmly. “We found El Dorado together. We’ll escape together — or not at all.”
Something flashed in Sidney’s eyes at her declaration — a fierce pride mingled with emotions too complex to name in that moment of danger. Then he nodded once, acknowledging her choice with respect. “Together, then. On my mark — run for the boat. Mateo will cover our retreat.”
“Now!” Sidney commanded, and together they ran, abandoning all pretence of further resistance in favour of pure speed.
Behind them, Mateo and his last remaining companion held the narrow path just long enough for Sidney and Docila to reach the boat, then broke off themselves to sprint the final distance to safety.
What followed was a desperate scramble — pushing the boat into the surf, clambering aboard as waves threatened to swamp them, Mateo and the wounded Miguel rowing with frantic energy while Sidney used the boat’s small sail to catch what wind was available.
Blackwell and his men reached the beach moments too late, their furious shouts following across the water as the small craft gradually pulled away from shore.
They reached the Santa Clara safely, and by the time Blackwell’s men had organized pursuit, the fishing vessel was already making for the open sea, her sails filled with a freshening breeze that promised to carry them swiftly beyond danger.
Standing at the rail as the inlet and its hidden treasure receded into the distance, Docila felt a curious mixture of triumph and loss — they had found El Dorado, had claimed a portion of its legendary wealth, yet had been forced to leave the greater part behind, including the magnificent golden ship.
“We’ll return,” Sidney said quietly, coming to stand beside her. “When Blackwell has been dealt with. When we have the men and resources to claim the treasure properly. When it’s safe.”
“What now?” she asked after a comfortable silence. “Once we reach port, once the legal matters are sorted and Blackwell faces justice for his unprovoked attack on the Seraphim — what then, Sidney?”
He turned to her, the setting sun gilding his profile with light that reminded her of the golden ship they had discovered together.
“I’ve been asking myself the same question,” he admitted, his voice carrying a vulnerability rarely revealed during their journey. “For so long, finding El Dorado has been my purpose, my driving ambition. Now that we’ve succeeded, at least in part...”
“You need a new quest,” Docila suggested, understanding his hesitation. A man like Sidney Peters thrived on challenge, on purpose beyond mere wealth or status.
“Perhaps,” he agreed, his gaze holding hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. “Or perhaps I need to recognize the treasure I’ve already found, more valuable than all the gold in Alvarado’s chamber.”
He reached into his pocket, withdrawing the small golden mermaid he had taken from the model ship’s prow.
“I took this as a token, a promise that we would return for the rest of the treasure,” he explained, offering it to her on his open palm.
“But standing here now, with you beside me and the open sea before us, I realize that El Dorado’s gold is simply metal and stone, valuable but ultimately lifeless.
The true treasure is what we’ve found in each other — trust forged through danger, understanding built on shared purpose, a connection I never sought but now cannot imagine living without. ”
Docila took the golden figurine, its weight solid in her palm, a tangible reminder of all they had experienced together.
“My father once told me that the greatest treasures aren’t those we seek, but those we discover when we’re searching for something else entirely,” she said softly.
“I fled aboard the Seraphim seeking only escape from my uncle’s control, freedom from a future not of my choosing.
I never imagined I would find so much more — adventure, yes, but also purpose.
Partnership. A man whose strength lies not in his authority but in his integrity, his unwavering determination to protect what matters most.”
Sidney’s hand found hers, warm and steady as they stood together with the golden mermaid clasped between their joined palms. “Where shall we sail next, Docila Archer? Now that El Dorado’s secret is ours, the world lies open before us. What course would you set if the choice were yours alone?”
It was a question no man had ever asked her — not as a genuine invitation to shape her own destiny, but as an acknowledgment of equal partnership in whatever future they might build together.
“Wherever we sail,” she replied, her voice steady with certainty, “we sail together. That is the only course that matters to me now.”
As the Santa Clara carried them toward the horizon, the first stars appearing in the deepening blue above, Sidney’s arm encircled her waist in a gesture both protective and reverent.
El Dorado’s treasure lay behind them, a golden ship sailing eternally in its hidden chamber beneath the jungle.
But the true treasure — the love that had grown between them through danger and discovery, through trust hard-won and freely given — sailed forward with them into whatever adventures awaited beyond the next horizon.