Voyage of Slaves (30 page)

“So we are finally rid of the brat and his hound. I’m not sorry, Lord, though I would not wish a fate like the plague on anybody, man or beast.”

Al Misurata gazed out at the broad expanse of the Adriatic. “There was something about that boy, he intrigued me. Still, he brought it on himself—he should never have deserted me and escaped. Keep the course to mid channel, and await my orders.”

Ghigno cast a glance to the midship hold. “Shall I release the women and let them rejoin the others?”

The pirate stroked his beard, pondering before he answered. “Maybe not. Keep them apart, it will ensure the good behaviour of the menfolk. Particularly that German strongman, he could be dangerous.”

Ghigno tapped the musket he kept stowed in his sash. “Rest easy, Lord, I’m not afraid of that one!”

Al Misurata smiled thinly. “Neither was Bomba, and look what happened to him.”

The scar-faced Corsair showed surprise. “You mean it was the German who did away with Bomba?”

Al Misurata tapped the side of his head with one finger. “I did not get to be Lord of the Barbary Coast by going about with my eyes closed and my brain in a slumber. The next question you are going to ask is, why did I not put the German to death?”

Ghigno stared at him in awed silence as he continued. “Bomba was worthless, a thief, a coward, one who would sell his mother for a crust. I would have had to kill him myself, sooner or later. However, the strongman will bring a good price, so I kept silent. Let him be someone else’s problem, he will go to his new owner unharmed. Remember, Ghigno, there is no profit in a dead man.”

In the lower hold, Mamma Rizzoli banged upon the door of the cabin where she had been confined with La Lindi and Serafina. The guard, a lean, sombre Tunisian, refused to open the door. He tapped it sharply with the butt of his jezzail. “What do you want, woman, more food or water?”

Mamma banged harder upon the door. “I want to go back to my husband. We want to be sent back to our old cabin, where the men are!”

The guard’s voice came back at her. “That is up to my master. I am only a guard who takes orders. It is no use asking me.”

Mamma persisted. “Then let me speak with your master!”

The guard squatted down against the doorpost, resting his brow against the muzzle of his rifle. “You have no say in this, woman. My master will speak with you when he is ready. Shouting and banging will do you no good. Now be silent!”

Serafina put her arms around the older woman. “Do as he says, Mamma, come and sit down, you’ll only get splinters in your hands if you keep banging the door.”

Signora Rizzoli allowed herself to be seated on some bales of carpet. She shook her head despairingly. “Why are they doing this to us, what has Misurata got to gain by locking us down here?”

La Lindi took things more calmly, lying on the bales, with her head against the timbered wall. “We’re probably hostages against the men’s good behaviour. Maybe they’ve got wind that we might try to escape. I wonder if they’ve found Otto’s old gun. Useless thing, we should have thrown it into the sea. . . .”

The snake charmer paused and sat up straight. “Serafina, listen, I think I heard a horse whinny, it sounded like our Poppea. Right here, in the cabin next to this one!”

Serafina climbed up alongside her friend. She smacked on the bulkhead, calling softly, “Poppea, is it you, old girl? Poppea!”

A snort and neighing came through from the adjoining cabin. The pretty girl laughed happily.

“It is! That’s our Poppea, I’d know her sound anywhere!”

Mamma climbed up to Serafina’s side. She listened to the mare’s whinnies. “Oh, you poor old lady, have they kept you down here all this time?”

La Lindi crawled along the top of the bales to the rear of the cabin. “Here, Mamma, pass me the lantern!”

Mamma unhooked the lantern from a ceiling beam.

La Lindi held the light up, dispersing the shadows at the back of the bales. “There’s a door here, like a stable door. Wait!” Serafina heard a bolt being withdrawn. La Lindi sounded excited. “It’s one of those half-doors, like we have on our cart. I can see Poppea, come and look. The door’s jammed by these bales, but I can see her. Hello, my beauty, and how are you, eh?”

Poppea thrust her muzzle into the opening and Serafina planted a kiss on it.

“You’ve put on weight, lady. My, but you do look well, all brushed and groomed. They must have been taking good care of you!”

The presence of the troupe’s mare cheered them up. Mamma began trying to move the bales. “Let’s get the door open, then we can be all girls together!”

Between them, the three got to work. It took quite awhile, but they managed to roll the bales forward. There were three tiers of them, and it was not possible to clear a space large enough for a horse to come through. However, they did the next best thing. Clearing six bales from the rear, they dropped down and released the lock on the bottom half of the door. It opened enough so that the trio could go through.

Serafina was first into the stable cabin. She laid her cheek on the mare’s arched neck, whispering, “You couldn’t come into our cabin, so we’ve come to visit you!”

La Lindi sat down on a heap of dry straw. “This is better than the place they put us in. They must clean it regularly. We’ll probably get into trouble for being in here.”

Mamma folded her arms decisively. “Trouble, aren’t we in enough trouble as it is? We never asked to come down here. I’ll give them trouble if they want it, you’ll see!”

It was Ghigno who finally came. They heard the guard opening the cabin on the other side, and heard him call out in astonishment.

“They’re not here, sir, where can they have gone?”

Mamma smiled as she listened to Ghigno beating and kicking the guard soundly.

“Where do you think they’ve gone, misbegotten donkey? Can’t you see the rear hatch door open back there!”

La Lindi chuckled. “We should have closed it behind us, that would have had them really puzzled!”

There was no time for further comment, as Ghigno booted the door to the stable cabin open and strode angrily in. His scarred face was livid with rage. He looked as though he was about to strike someone.

Mamma placed herself boldly in front of Serafina and La Lindi. “I demand that you send us back to the men’s cabin!”

Ghigno took a step toward her, his fist upraised. “You demand? Who are you to demand, you old she-goat! Get back into your cabin while you can still walk!”

Fearing he was about to strike Mamma, La Lindi’s shout rang out, loud and abrupt. “Don’t you dare harm her, get back!”

Poppea knew the term “back.” It was always used by the troupe members whenever they reversed her into the shafts of the cart. The mare whinnied and backed up two paces, her stamping left rear hoof pounding down onto Ghigno’s right foot.

The Corsair roared in agony. “Yaaarrgh! Get the horse off my foot!”

Serafina clicked her tongue at the mare, who obliged by taking a step forward, releasing the man.

The guard supported Ghigno as he hopped about on one leg, uttering agonised sounds.

Mamma did nothing to disguise the satisfaction in her tone. “There, let that be a lesson, you bullying coward! Well done, Poppea, good horse!” She turned smiling to her two companions. “We girls have got to stick together, eh!”

All three broke into peals of laughter. The Corsair’s face was almost purple with pain and rage, his scar like a ragged, white lightning flash. When he finally regained his voice, he snarled viciously, “So, you think it’s funny? Well, I’ll give you some news to wipe the smiles from your faces. Your young friends, the boy and his dog, they’re dead. Now laugh that one off!”

Mamma Rizzoli folded her arms defiantly. “Liar, how could you know that? Neither you or your master are clever or fast enough to catch Ben and Ned. You are telling lies!”

Leaning heavily on the guard, Ghigno managed a malicious smile. “Then don’t believe me, but take the word of one I heard it from, a captain of the Greek navy. What reason would he have to lie, eh?”

Their tormentor knew by the shocked looks on the women’s faces that his words had the desired effect. He carried on his report with relish. “Plague it was, the cholera! Your Ben and Ned were aboard a merchant vessel that was overrun by infected rats. The whole crew were killed by the disease. It can run through a ship like wildfire, a horrible death, I’ve been told. We crossed paths with the navy craft, that’s why you were put down here, to keep your men from speaking out. Now do you believe me? The boy and his dog are both dead. What, no more laughter, ladies?”

He slammed the door. They heard him laughing as he was assisted up the stairs by the guard.

Mamma burst into tears. “Oh, my poor Ben, that wonderful boy, may the Good Lord rest his soul. And Ned, that lovely dog. Gone!”

La Lindi hugged Mamma as they wept for their two friends together. However, though Serafina stood stone-faced, she was completely dry-eyed. Mamma turned her tearstained face to the beautiful girl. “Did you not hear him,
cara mia
? It must be the truth—the Greek navy captain said so!”

Serafina put her arms around both her friends, her voice held an unwavering certainty. “No! Ben is not dead, neither is Ned. I don’t care who said what. They are not dead, I feel it here in my heart, I am sure they are alive!”

La Lindi wiped her eyes on the hem of Mamma’s shawl. She stared at Serafina, then nodded. “I believe you!”

THE TOWN OF PULA ON THE SLOVENIJAN MAINLAND.

IT WAS TEN O’CLOCK AT NIGHT WHEN Ben and Ned entered the Tavern of the Tipsy Hog, close to the harbour in Pula. They had left the ship’s boat tied up there. Kostas and Yanni went in first. Ned stopped at the door, looking up at the swinging sign. It depicted a hog, dressed in human attire, guzzling down a big pail of beer.

Ben sent his dog a thought. “If you were landlord here they could have called it the Tipsy Dog!”

The black Labrador huffed. “Oh, very droll, and if you were the owner I’d have named it the Boozy Boy. Now get in there, insolent youth!”

The tavern was packed, a welter of noise and music. The customers looked a rough lot, arguing and swigging at foaming flagons, hacking at roasted meat with daggers, singing, fighting and gambling. Kostas waved them to a table. “Sit here, I’ll order us some supper.”

A waiter served them with plates of fried beef and a mixture of mashed turnip and potato, plus a flagon of dark beer apiece. Kostas took a coin from his pouch and tossed it to the server.

Before the man could catch the coin, it was whipped out of midair by a wild-looking woman wielding a long bullwhip. She caught the coin, and spun it back to the Greek. At the report of the whip, the place fell silent. The woman was only small and lightly built, but her voice was loud and commanding.

“No good friends of mine pay for supper here!”
Craaack!
The whip snaked out once more. Ben was surprised that it did not harm Kostas. It wrapped several times about his wrist. The wild-looking woman tugged Kostas toward her.

“Krimboti! When I saw that red mop of yours, I thought my tavern was on fire. Come here, you great Aegean shark!”

Roaring with laughter, Kostas ran at her, tossing her into the air and catching her before she hit the floor. “Hohohoho! Janos Cabar, how long is it since I last set eyes on your pretty face?”

Digging both hands into his mass of red curls, she tugged them in playful reproach. “Too long, Golden Jaw. So, who’s hunting you, or who are you hunting? I’ll help you—between us we’ll slay all your foes, and help ourselves to their gold!”

Kostas carried her to the table and sat her on his knee. “Ben, this is my friend, Janos Cabar!”

The boy regretted his words as soon as they slipped out. “Janos, I thought we were coming to meet a man!”

The woman took a long pull at Ben’s beer flagon. Wiping her lips on the back of her hand, she grinned. “Look at me, lad, what would you have called me, Caterina, Cecilia, or Collete Cabar? I named myself Janos—I like the name well!”

Ben heard Ned’s mental chuckle. “You’d better apologise in case you’ve hurt her maidenly feelings, mate!”

The boy shook Janos Cabar’s outstretched hand. “No offence, marm, I think the name suits you well.”

The woman had a grip like a vise. She winked at Kostas. “Hey, Krimboti, I like this one. He’s good-looking, and has far better manners than you. Hah, he owns a handsome dog, too. Hello, boy!”

Ben read Ned’s thoughts as he proffered his paw, which was shaken heartily. “Handsome dog, eh? At least she got my name right. Good grief, she could strangle a tipsy hog with that grip!”

Ben introduced Ned to Janos, then applied himself to his supper as Kostas and the woman talked together.

“Well, wild one, how does being a taverna landlady suit you?”