Voyage of Slaves

13

THE FOLLOWING MORNING BEN SAW Bomba come up on deck. He watched surprise regster on the slave driver’s face as he saw his intended victim still alive. The big man looked for a moment as if he was going to kill Ben on the spot, personally. Bomba turned, going back into the stern accommodation.

Gradually the ship came alive, with crewmen going about their duties. The troupe joined Ben and Ned on the fo’c’sle deck. Otto began his daily exercise routine, remarking to Mummo, “So, you are no longer sick, Herr Mummo?”

The clown feigned astonishment. “What gave you the idea I was sick, Otto? I only came out on deck to escape the odour of your fiendish moustache lotion.”

Signore Rizzoli raised an eyebrow. “Have you breakfasted yet?”

Ben came to Mummo’s defence. “No, he hasn’t, but he’s ready for it, just like me and Ned, aren’t you, Mummo? Come on, let’s see what the cook is serving in the galley. The rest of you stay put, we’ll get breakfast for you today.”

Ned stayed with the troupe, placing his chin in Serafina’s lap as Ben and Mummo hastened off.

“Aye, there’s a good pair of fellows, go and fetch us beautiful ones some food. Step lively now, we’re hungry!”

Ben’s parting reply flashed through his mind. “Beautiful ones indeed, you great lolloping hound!”

The dog was about to reply when Serafina patted him.

“Come on, Ned, let’s go and pay Poppea a visit!”

A fragrant aroma of roasting meat and spices emanated from the galley. Mummo joined the line of men in the alleyway waiting to be served. Ben chose to stay outside. He went to a canvas spread upon a hatch cover, where a steward was serving drinks and fruit. The boy selected a few oranges, a large melon and a pitcher of sherbet. Intentionally, Ben positioned himself behind Bomba and Ghigno, eavesdropping on their conversation. The Corsair was being rather curt with the slave driver.

“Why were you questioning my steersman about Abrit, eh?”

Bomba tried to keep his reply casual. “Oh, no reason, it’s just that I haven’t seen him around this morning.”

Ghigno was not satisfied with this answer. “Abrit isn’t your servant. The crew of this ship are under my command, not yours. So, what did you want with him?”

Bomba blustered under the scar-faced one’s interrogation. “Er, er, Abrit owed me some money.”

Ghigno treated him to a withering look. “What money, how much, tell me.”

The big man looked at the sky, as though he were trying to recall the sum. “Er, it was three gold pieces, I think.”

Ghigno obviously enjoyed goading Bomba, he continued sneeringly. “Three gold pieces you think? Hah, when was the last time you owned three gold pieces—in fact, when did you ever loan anything to anyone, son of a motherless thief? Go on about your business and leave my crew alone, or I’ll lend you half the blade of my sword in your fat gut, you spawn of a camel tick!”

Catching Ben’s smothered guffaw, Ghigno turned on him. “Have you nothing better to do than spy on men talking? Get out of my sight, infidel brother of a black dog!”

Ben joined Serafina and Ned on the forepeak, sitting out above the bow wave. The food was good, spiced roast lamb with rice and fruit. He watched the beautiful black girl as she ate and chatted.

“They don’t let you roam about this ship as you like. Do you know, we were hemmed in, Ned and I, by four guards when we went to see Poppea. They wouldn’t answer any questions or let us put a step out of place. It’s as if they’re hiding something from us.”

Ben did not want to upset the girl by talking about Al Misurata’s business. He tossed melon rind into the sea. “So, how is Poppea? Well, I hope?”

Serafina showed her flawless white teeth smilingly. “Oh, she’s living the life of a queen, with lovely food, and four fine Arab horses for company!”

Ben ignored Ned’s paw, which was prodding his back. “That’s good, I’m glad she’s happy.”

Now the black Labrador’s message entered his mind, accompanied by more paw prods. “Ship ahoy, mate, off the starboard bow, headed this way!”

Ben grasped a line and stood up on the bowsprit, his blue-grey eyes watching the approaching vessel as he exchanged thoughts with Ned. “She’s a big ship, flying the Spanish flag, I think.”

The Labrador jumped up beside him. “Dog’s eyes are the best, let me take a look. Hah, I see officers standing on the bridge, and those sailors in the rigging, they’re dressed in uniform issue. Y’know, if I’m right, that’s a naval craft. What d’you think, mate?”

Ben felt hope surging through him. “Marvellous, Ned! It looks like she’s going to lay alongside of us. At last! If I can get to the captain, or an officer, I’ll expose Al Misurata as a slaver. This could be the saving of us and the troupe. Come on, let’s go down to the midship deck!”

He turned to Serafina. “Excuse me, I have to attend to something!”

The pair hurried off, leaving behind them a slightly perplexed girl.

The Santa Veronica del Mar halted three shiplengths from the Sea Djinn. Like most Spanish men-o’-war, she was impressively large, bristling with cannon and ornate superstructure. Al Misurata appeared on the afterdeck, richly clad in flowing blue and emerald silks. Ben was surprised that the pirate showed no apprehension at being accosted by the Spanish navy. He gave no orders to run or fight. Highly unusual for one who plied his trade. Ned had his nose through the rails, watching the approaching ship.

“Look, they’re lowering a boat, Ben, there’s the captain and two officers getting into it. What’s your plan, mate?”

The boy thrust out his jaw resolutely. “The first chance I get, I’m going to have a word with the captain, or one of those officers. Wait’ll I tell them about what Misurata’s up to, that should set the cat among the pigeons!”

The black Labrador wagged his tail furiously. “Hoho, I’ll wager it will. I can’t wait to see old Al Miserable, and Bomba, and that scar-faced rogue, led off in chains to a slaver’s reward. I hope the authorities have a nice, damp, gloomy cell waiting for ’em!”

The jollyboat hove alongside, allowing the visitors to be assisted aboard the Sea Djinn. The captain stepped aboard, flanked by his aides.

Ben dashed forward, calling out urgently in Spanish, “Capitano, I must speak with you, señor!”

The captain, a tall, slender, grey-haired man with an elegant bearing, stared down his aquiline nose at the strange tow-haired boy, then swept past on his way to the stern deck. Ben tried to follow, but he was tripped from behind by Ghigno. Ned leaped forward. He was in midair when a cruel kick from Bomba sent him through the rails, splashing into the sea.

Laughing, the Spanish sailors pulled the dog into the jollyboat. A burly bosun lifted Ned, heaving him back aboard the Sea Djinn.

“Not a good place to jump ship, you silly old seadog, out here days from land!”

Ben lay on the deck, clutching the soaking dog to him. The opportunity had been lost. He felt foolish, surrounded by Bomba, Ghigno and several crewmen. Serafina pushed her way through to Ben. One of the crewmen tried to stop her, but she evaded him.

Ghigno warned her, “Get back to the fo’c’sle deck, girl!”

She ignored him and helped Ben up, whispering to him, “Ben, what’s the matter, are you hurt?”

He rubbed his shin, where it had struck the coaming. “You shouldn’t be here, get back to the troupe right now. Leave me alone, I can handle this. Now go!”

Stunned by his sharp rebuke, Serafina hurried off.

Al Misurata bowed to his visitor. “Capitano Mira, a pleasure to meet you again. Allow me to offer you some refreshment in my cabin.”

Removing his high-sided hat and stowing it beneath one arm, the captain signalled his two officers to stop on deck. “Thank you kindly, señor, please lead on!”

Ned shook himself vigorously as he watched the two men go into the cabin. “Hah, there’s something odd going on here, they know each other well. Maybe you’d have been better off holding your tongue, mate?”

Ben’s clouded eyes watched the cabin door close. “Maybe so, Ned, we’ll just have to wait and see.”

It was not a long visit. Shortly thereafter, Al Misurata and Captain Mira emerged from the cabin. The Spaniard wiped his lips delicately with a lace kerchief, which he stowed into his brocaded sleeve. Still with his hat under one arm, he bowed briefly. “A delightful meeting, Señor Misurata, but alas I have duties at Cadiz which cannot be delayed further. Adios, my friend, and may success attend your voyage.”

Al Misurata touched fingertips to his heart, lips and forehead, bowing in a dignified manner. “You grace my humble vessel with your presence, Capitano. My apologies for the boy, he is troubled in the brain. Good-bye, and may fair winds be ever at your back.”

The two officers fell in behind their captain as he descended to the jollyboat amidships.

Bomba placed himself in front of Ben, blocking access to the Spaniard, but the captain gestured him aside. He spoke patronisingly to the boy, patting his cheek gently.

“You speak Spanish very well, for one who is weak in the head!”

Ben’s heart sank as he saw the chamois bag and heard the gold clink. It was in the man’s hat; the captain bent his head swiftly and donned it. Without another word, he stepped into the boat.

Ned gave himself a final shake, he was disgusted. “A bribe, eh, payment in gold for his silence. I thought so. That captain is as bad as Al Miserable!”

Al Misurata leaned over the stern gallery. He caught Ben’s eye and shrugged mockingly. “Well, who did you expect him to listen to—the Lord of Misurata, or a feeble-minded infidel brat?”

When Ben made his way back to his friends on the fo’c’sle deck, he found his woes were increased. Serafina brushed past him and went to sit in her cabin. Formerly she had been very friendly and close to him. However, he guessed by her expression that she did not want to talk to him. He looked around at the others, but they averted their eyes. All except La Lindi, who gave forth a deep, bubbling laugh, and came over to sit by him.

“So, what have you done to upset our Serafina, eh?”

Ben stared at her blankly. “Me, upset Serafina, why should I do such a thing?”

La Lindi shrugged. “I don’t know, boy, but if you haven’t upset her, why is she avoiding you, and walking round with a face that would bring bad weather?”

Mamma Rizzoli looked up from darning a shirt. “You must have said something hurtful to her.”

Ben spread his arms appealingly. “I’d never do that!”

Augusto Rizzoli smiled at Ben’s wobegone face. “Poor Benno, you have much to learn about the ladies.” Tuning the heads on his mandolin, he began singing.

“O who knows the mind of a lady, alas I am nought but a man, and a lady’s a beautiful puzzle, so please tell me now if you can, why when she says never it’s maybe, though often her yes is a no, and her no is a yes, which could be more or less, so how’s a poor fellow to know? Yes, who knows the mind of a woman, just give me a lifetime or so, and I’ll find out why her lips say come, when her eyes are telling me go. She’s the only one who can explain it, I care not what any man thinks, but if you wish to know, then you’ll just have to go off to Egypt to question the Sphinx!”

Ben sighed ruefully. “Well, if I’ve got a lot to learn about ladies, that song wasn’t much help, signore.”

Always the clown, Buffo put on a tragic face, staggering about with one hand clasped to his heart, and the other held out trembling, as he sobbed in mock grief. “My mind will not rest! My lips will not let food pass them! Cast a single white rose upon my grave! I die for love! Ah, the sweet agony of it all, my friends, addio!”²³ He collapsed in a heap upon a coil of rope, but sprang up smartly when Mamma jabbed his bottom with her darning needle. She levelled a stern finger at her husband and the clown.

“Shame on you both for tormenting the boy, were you never young yourselves?”

For the rest of that day Ben sat alone in the bows, moping, whilst Serafina kept to her cabin. At one point, just before evening, he looked about, noticing that he had not seen Ned for hours.

Towards sunset, Otto came ambling along. He placed a hefty hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Come and eat, my friend. Everything will turn out for the best, you’ll see. It is not good for one so young to sit brooding over a maiden’s frown.”

Ben stared out at the last fiery remnants of the sun sinking below the horizon. “I’m alright, Otto, you go along. I may join you later.” The desire for food had left Ben. Wrapping himself in a blanket, he lay down and slept.

Sometime during the night a cold, wet nose nuzzling his cheek aroused Ben. It was Ned. The boy sat up. “Oh, you’re back, thanks for your support and company to me, mate. Where’ve you been all day?”

The black Labrador gave him what passed for a lolloping grin. “Oh, just round and about, y’know, gathering information that could help you. Hah, you’d be surprised at what I’ve heard. I’m a pretty good listener!”

Ben yawned. “Go on then, surprise me.”

Ned recounted his exploits. “Well, after you fell asleep, Serafina came out for supper. I sat with her on the fo’c’sle steps, just the two of us. After awhile she began talking to me, sort of telling me her troubles. Do you know why she was angry with you?”

Ben replied eagerly. “No, tell me!”

The dog explained. “After Ghigno tripped you this morning, she ran to help you, but you spoke sharply to her. I saw it myself, Ben, you were very short with the girl, though she was only trying to help you.”

The boy shrugged. “Huh, was that all? I was trying to get her out of harm’s way. Men like Ghigno and Bomba don’t care who they kick out at, it wasn’t safe for her to be there.”

Ned shook his head. “But you never apologised later, that was what really hurt Serafina. She’s never shouted at you. As far as I can see that girl has always tried to be your friend. She never expected you to act like that toward her.”

Ben had been reliving the scene in his mind. Now the truth of it dawned on him. He ruffled Ned’s ears warmly. “My good old mate! Thanks for telling me, I’ll make it up to her first thing tomorrow.”

The dog allowed himself to be patted before he continued. “Ah, but that isn’t all. I heard another conversation this afternoon, while you were sitting up here wanting to be alone. It was between Ghigno and Bomba.”

Ben felt suddenly apprehensive. “Go on, what did they say?”

The dog paused. “The news isn’t good, mate. I was lying in the shade under the steps when those two blackguards came along. They leaned on the midship rails, talking together. So I listened in—they never even noticed me. Ghigno was saying that you were a danger to them, because you knew too much. He said, if that captain today had been a stranger, and listened to you, then they would all have their necks in a noose. Bomba agreed with him, but said that Al Misurata said you weren’t to be harmed. The scar-faced one wasn’t too pleased at that. He said that Misurata was putting them at risk through his greed for gold. Bomba’s head was bobbing up and down like a pigeon pecking corn. He felt that you would get to someone who would take notice of your accusations, and what then? After all, it was a long journey to where they were bound, and who could stand guard over an infidel boy who was so clever and devious?”

Ben took hold of Ned’s paw. “So what did they decide?”

The dog’s answer came as no surprise to him. “By tomorrow night we should make Valleta harbour at Malta. Now I don’t know the exact details, but that’s where we’re both going to be murdered and tossed into the sea. The sharks should take care of our bodies. All Ghigno has to do is to tell Al Misurata that we’ve escaped and gone ashore.”

Ben looked grim. “Aye, that would work for them. Al Misurata could only stop for so long to have the island searched, then he’d have to leave. Very crafty, mate, nobody would ever be sure what really happened to us.”

Ned placed his head in Ben’s lap. “Poor old us, served up as shark stew just for being too knowledgeable. So, when do we jump ship?”

Ben answered promptly. “First chance we get as soon as we sight land. We’ll have to take our chances quickly.”

The dog raised his eyebrows. “Without a word to anyone, I suppose. It won’t do your romance much good, mate, going off without so much as a fond farewell to that lovely girl.”

Ben nodded. “She’ll understand in time, I hope.”

Next morning, Ben was up as dawn spread over the Mediterranean Sea. He saw Otto come out on deck and start his exercise routine. Then Serafina emerged from her cabin, calling to the strongman.

“When you’ve finished we’ll go and get breakfast for the troupe.”

Ben hastened to her side. “Leave Otto to his training. We’ll go and fetch the food, you and I.”

Ned sent the boy a thought. “That’s the stuff, I’ll stop here with Otto and allow you to make up.”

They descended the steps in an awkward silence, then Ben turned and found his tongue running away with him.

“Serafina, about yesterday, I’m sorry I spoke sharply to you but I wanted to get you away, to save you being hurt by Bomba and Ghigno. I didn’t mind being knocked about a bit but I couldn’t bear the thought of anybody trying to hurt you. But I had no time to explain gently, so I spoke harshly and I didn’t get a chance to apologise later, you looked so cold and distant, you went into the cabin, and I couldn’t follow you inside . . . and . . . and . . . I’m sorry!”

The girl covered her mouth, stifling the laughter that was bubbling out. Ben stared at her, nonplussed.

“What?”

“Oh, haha . . . oh, I’m sorry . . . Hahaha! Poor Ben, standing there gabbling away with your cheeks as red as tomatoes. How could I not forgive you, my friend? But can you forgive me? Flouncing off with my lip pouting, when all you were trying to do was to protect me. It was a silly thing for me to do.”

Ben looked at the deck. “You could never do anything silly, Serafina. Are we still friends?”

She took his hand and squeezed it lightly. “Of course. Come on, let’s get some breakfast for the starving players.”

They walked hand in hand to the galley, though Ben could not feel the deck beneath his feet, and his heart was singing.

They set all the food on a piece of planking and carried it between them. Before they reached the steps Ghigno stepped out, barring the way. The awful scar made his face crease into a sardonic sneer as he stepped aside and did a flourishing bow.

“Good morning to you, pretty miss, and you, young sir!”

They passed by him in silence. At the top of the steps, Serafina turned to see Ghigno enter the galley.

“I wonder what made him do that?”

Ben shook his head. “Probably the sight of us made him feel unusually happy, what d’you think?”

Serafina reflected. “Hmm, perhaps it did, though I couldn’t imagine the sight of him would make anybody unusually happy, not even his mother!”

Simultaneously the two young people took a fit of laughing.

Ned bounded around them, wagging his tail as he contacted Ben. “Well, thank goodness you two are happy again. Hurry up with that breakfast, please, there’s a poor, starving dog aboard.”

The infectious laughter had Buffo up cavorting about the deck. A wide grin split the clown’s face as he danced around Ben and Serafina, strewing petals from an imaginary basket of flowers.

“The young lovers are joyfully reunited once again! I hear harps and violins, birds twittering and fish leaping gaily from the sea! No longer is my heart broken!” He tripped, and would have tumbled over the for’ard rail.

Luckily, Otto was nearby and hauled him back by the seat of his trousers. “Ach, your silly neck will be broken if you prance about like that much more. Sit still now, Herr Buffo!”

After breakfast Serafina went off to visit Poppea, whilst Ben and Ned sat on the fo’c’sle steps, discussing their escape. Ben watched Ghigno, Bomba and three crewmen, who were obviously meant to feature in their murderous plans.

“They’re watching our every move, Ned, it’s going to be hard for us to slip away unnoticed.”

The black Labrador began grooming himself. “We’ll just have to distract their attention when the time comes. Surely we can think of something.”

Ben kept the men under observation as he replied. “That’s a good idea, mate, create a diversion. But how?”

The dog raised a paw to scratch the back of his ear. “Patience, m’boy, let me think!”

Scarcely an hour later, a lookout with a spyglass cried out from the main topmast, “Land ahoy off the starboard peak!”

The two friends went up into the prow. Ben shaded his eyes, peering ahead at the grey smudge on the horizon. He felt the Sea Djinn shift as the steersman took her bow on to the island of Malta.

“If we want to stay alive we’d better think of something fast, Ned!”