Voyage of Slaves

24

BEN SPENT MOST OF THE NIGHT AS part of a human chain, passing bowls, buckets, ewers and pans up from the chain locker and stern cabins. It was heavy, remorseless labor, sometimes almost waist-deep in cold seawater, passing brim-slopping containers from hand to hand. Alternately sweating and shivering, the boy toiled doggedly on, sometimes being hurled flat in the wild motion of a storm-rocked ship. He could hear the gale, still howling furiously. It was becoming obvious that the Blue Turtle would be lost, but the bailing crew battled on desperately against their inevitable fate, even joking about it.

Herakles handed a bucket to Ben, remarking as he passed it up to the next man, “One bucketful out, two bucketfuls in, eh, Ben!”

The boy licked a skinned knuckle, commenting, “Aye, if they find any fish down there let’s hope somebody saves them for supper!”

Babiko took the bucket from Ben, reaching back for another. “Huh, by the look of things it’ll be the fish having us for supper!”

Kostas Krimboti came clambering down the water-loggedstairway. As usual, the big Greek was laughing. “Hohoho, if I were a fish I’d let you go, old Babiko skinny bones. No, my friend, those fish will be looking for a fine, big, meaty fellow like me!” Shoving Ben aside, Kostas took his place on the line. “Go on, young ’un, up on deck, you’ve had enough for now.”

The boy protested, “I can work, Cap’n, let me carry on.”

The big Greek flashed his golden smile. “Yanni, tell this little fish what happened to the last fellow who dared to argue with Krimboti!”

Yanni answered cheerfully. “Was that before or after you broke both his arms and bit his ears off, Capitano?”

Ben saw it was useless continuing the discussion further. Pulling himself wearily up on deck, he went to see how Ned was faring with his duties as nursemaid.

As Ben entered the cabin, he took heed of his friend’s warning. “Hush now, they’re both fast asleep!”

Nico was still unconscious, and Amico, bundled up in the torn sheet, was in a deep slumber on the bunk.

Ned rose stiffly. “I managed to tie that villain up so tight he couldn’t get free. After awhile he gave up the struggle and went to sleep. Let’s go out on deck, mate, I need to stretch the old legs.”

They slipped out quietly, climbing the stairs to the fo’c’sle deck, with the Labrador expressing his surprise. “Just look at the midships, they’re almost underwater!”

Ben patted his dog’s head. “You should see the stern quarters, the water’s pouring in down there. What a time I’ve had, mate. Well, Ned, who’d have thought we’d live all these years, only to end up like this, eh?”

However, the dog was not listening. He had turned to face the prow, and was pointing like a setter.

Ben knelt by his side. “Ned, what is it?”

“A ship, it’s a ship!” The dog’s reply sent Ben peering off into the rainswept distance. Ned pushed the boy’s face with his paw, giving directions. “Over there, far off on the starboard bow. It’s a ship, I know it is!”

Ben was quivering with excitement, though he could not see anything as yet. “If you say so I believe you, mate!”

The black Labrador butted his head against Ben’s ribs. “Then what’re you hanging about here for, idle youth? Go and tell Cap’n Krimboti. Now!”

A moment later, the boy was yelling down the stairs, “Cap’n, I can see something off to starboard, I think it might be a ship!”

Kostas was at his side in a flash. Seizing Ben’s arm, he dashed him for’ard, splashing through the midships. “A ship, you think? By the Archbishop of Athens, boy, you’d better be right. Show me!”

Ned was waiting on the fo’c’sle deck, sending thoughts to Ben. “It’s a ship right enough, I can see her clearly now, prob’ly because that’s the dawn coming up. Follow my nose, mate, show our cap’n!”

Looking in the direction of his dog’s nose, Ben pointed the ship out. It looked like a big vessel, even from a far distance. He heaved a mental sigh of relief that it was not the Sea Djinn.

Kostas Krimboti kissed his open palm to the heavens. “Thank you, Father, thank you, Sir! Hohohohoho! Look at that beautiful ship, see it, Beniamino!”

It was, however, Ben’s turn to see something. “And look at the weather, Cap’n, it’s slacking off, the wind’s died and the sea’s becoming smoother. I’ll wager it’s not long before this rain stops!”

Ned licked his friend’s hand. “Nicely observed, m’boy!”

As pale dawn separated the sky from night, the rain died to a drizzle. All hands gathered for’ard to see the ship, which was headed straight for them, but still some distance away. Herakles had the spyglass, which he was focusing on the oncoming vessel. He passed it to his captain.

“It’s not your lucky day, my friend—that’s the Callisto.”

Kostas thrust the glass to his eye, squinting wildly. “The Callisto? No, surely not, it can’t be. Boy, you speak our language well enough, see if you can read it, too. What’s the name of that ship?”

Ben took the spyglass, through which he could easily discern the name on either side of the prow, which was fronted by a fine, carved figure of a huntress. “Herakles is correct, Cap’n, she’s called the Callisto.”

The big Greek bit at his thumbnail for a moment, then he nodded to Ben. “Go to my cabin, boy, I’ve got some thinking you can help me with. Yanni, you’d best come, too, Little Alexi knows you as well as me. All hands stay low and say nothing until we return!”

Thoroughly mystified by the odd turn of events and the Captain’s behaviour, Ben went to the cabin, sharing his thoughts with Ned, who was following him.

“I thought the cap’n would be glad to be rescued, but he doesn’t welcome the sight of that ship.”

Ned pushed the cabin door open with his paw. “Aye, and I wonder who Little Alexi is, mate?”

Kostas paced the cabin, waving his arms dramatically as he complained aloud, “Why me? Chased by Barbary pirates, battered by the storm and now who comes sailing over the horizon? Little Alexi and the Callisto! And all this with my poor Blue Turtle almost sinking under me! Father, why have you placed this black raven on my shoulder?”

Yanni shrugged philosophically. “Maybe Little Alexi does not sail with the Callisto these days. Maybe he is master of another vessel.”

Kostas exploded. “Aye, and maybe the Krimboti is a donkey with feathers! You talk foolish, Yanni, Alexi is attached to that ship like a banker to money!”

Ben took it upon himself to interrupt. “Cap’n, you won’t solve anything by carrying on like this. Tell me, what is the problem?”

The big Greek scratched his curly mop distractedly. “It is a long story, my friend, it is. . . . Aaah, you tell him, Yanni!”

Both Ned and Ben listened intently as Yanni explained. “Kostas, Alexi and myself all came from the island of Naxos, we were the greatest of friends as boys. All three of us wanted to be sea captains one day. Alexi was small, and given to book learning—his father was wealthy, also. Kostas and I were both from poor families, our fathers were only fishermen. But Kostas was a tall boy, handsome and strong. He was very popular. Alexi secretly disliked him for this. Having said that, Kostas also disliked Alexi.”

“Yanni, how can you say that? Little Alexi was as close to me as a brother.” Kostas was off once more, waving his arms and gesticulating.

Ben shared a thought with Ned. “I wish he’d shut up and sit down, we’re getting nowhere like this. I can’t tell him to be quiet, though—he’s a captain.”

Ned acted as he replied. “Aye, but I can, mate. Sit down, sir, down I say!” The black Labrador stood on his hind legs, pushing Kostas down into a chair with his front paws.

Ben winked at the Greek captain. “Ned wants you to sit quietly while Yanni tells me the story, Cap’n.”

Kostas stared at the dog oddly for a moment, then he waved at Yanni. “I’m sorry, friend, continue the tale.”

Yanni patted the dog’s head fondly. “Where was I—oh yes. Well, time went by, and we three boys grew up, but fate took us down different paths. Alexi’s father paid for his son to go to naval college. He did well there, and soon was sailing with the Greek navy as a young officer. Huh, the Krimboti and I, we were still running about the coast barefoot, no naval school for us, my friend. So, we fell into the pirating business, which was common among adventurous lads such as we. Now I must take you forward some years. Kostas and I had risen in the ranks—now he was a first mate and I was a gunner, aboard a Corsican vessel. We weren’t slavers or murderers, just good old-fashioned wave robbers, you understand.”

Ben nodded briefly, remembering the time he had spent aboard a French pirate vessel, La Petite Marie, captained by the buccaneer Raphael Thuron.³²

“Aye, I understand, Yanni, go on.”

The seaman once more took up his narration. “It was just outside the harbour, at the isle of Kríti, where we had raided a garrison and borrowed some ammunition during the night. We sailed out, laughing, straight into a ship of our country’s navy—we almost bumped right into it in the dawn light.”

Kostas smote the table and burst out laughing. “Hohohoho! Can you guess who was standing on the forepeak, in his smart tasselled uniform? None other than our old friend. I shouted out to him, ‘Good morning to you, Little Admiral Alexi!’ ”

Ned gave a sharp bark. Kostas covered his mouth. “Oops, carry on, Yanni—tell Ben what we did.”

Yanni was smiling as he explained. “We were younger and quicker then. Kostas and I manned the cannon, and blasted the navy ship right under the bowline. Alexi was jolted off into the sea!”

The big Greek leaped to his feet, gold teeth flashing. “Let me tell it, Yanni! Hohoho, we left her with her stern in the air and her head going down. I tell you, it was a sight to see, Ben. All the navy crew had heard what I called that tiny peacock. They threw rescue lines to him, calling, ‘We’ll save you, Little Admiral Alexi!’ His lovely new uniform was ruined, he was hauled aboard with the seat torn out of his breeches. He grabbed one of those hailing trumpets and yelled out after us, ‘I know you, Kostas Krimboti, and you, too, Yanni Karopolis. Villains! Pirates! One day, when I’m a captain, I’ll hunt you both down and hang you from my ship’s yardarm. I swear on my life I will!’ ”

Ned heaved a doggy sigh, resting his head on Ben’s foot as he communicated. “Oh dear, and it’s that very same Little Alexi who’s sailing to our rescue at the moment. Well well, our friends have got themselves into a right old pickle.”

Ben questioned Kostas and Yanni. “Let me ask you two things. One, how do you know Alexi is captain of the Callisto ? And two, does he know that you are aboard the Blue Turtle?”

Yanni allowed his captain to reply.

“The word that Little Alexi had been appointed as master of the Callisto was all up and down the coast. As I said, his father was a wealthy man—he practically paid for Callisto to be built, then made a gift of it to the navy. So Alexi was the natural choice. We heard in every port and water-side taverna that he had been given a commission to root out piracy on the high seas. The little maggot made it no secret that he was going to stretch our necks at the first opportunity. So we decided to fool him. Yanni and I gave up the pirating life. We bought ourselves this old tub, the Blue Turtle, out of our ill-gotten gains, and set ourselves up as treasure hunters. Right, Yanni?”

Yanni grinned at Ben. “Right! We became reformed characters, and dropped out of sight. You see us as we are now, practically saints, carrying cargo for the good Sisters of Santa Filomena. I don’t think there’s much chance Alexi knows that we’re aboard. But that’s where the problem arises. If he’s going to help us, then he’ll want to come on to the Blue Turtle, to assess the damage and speak with her captain. So you see, boy, the moment he spots the Krimboti, or me, we’re dead men!”

Ned shared a thought with Ben as they sized up both men. “Huh, you couldn’t miss those two rascals underwater on a dark night, and this Alexi fellow’s known them both since they were boys. What d’you think, mate?”

Ben spoke his thoughts aloud. “Then we must stop him seeing you both, and boarding us.”

Kostas spread his arms expressively. “But how are we going to do that, my friend?”

Yanni shook his head mournfully. “You can’t stop the Greek navy boarding you in these waters.”

There was a moment’s glum silence, then the boy caught his dog’s message. “Run up a yellow pennant?”

Ben patted Ned’s back heartily. “That’s the answer, well done, mate!”

The black Labrador arched his back casually. “Think nothing of it—just remind our cap’n that this is going to cost him more than a bone and a scrap of pork rind.”

Ben explained rapidly to his friends, “Now listen carefully, there’s not much time. Here’s what you must do. . . .”

Captain Alexi Constantinou of the warship Callisto stood perched on a small powder keg, with a canvas awning erected over it to protect his splendidly ornate uniform from the fine drizzle. The squat vessel, with its tattered blue sails, sat low in the water, a little over a cable length from the Callisto. Ever eager to use his cannon, he murmured to the master gunner standing alongside him, “D’ye think she has the look of a corsair about her?”

The gunner discouraged the idea politely. “Nay, sir, more like some old cargo coaster who’s lost her way. A good puff of wind’d send her to the bottom.”

The diminutive captain scanned her needlessly through his telescope before conceding. “Hmm, looks to be held afloat by only prayers and peeling paintwork. Hold fast, what’s that, a yellow ensign? See what she’s doing out here flying a quarantine flag—hail her immediately!”

The gunner placed the hailing trumpet to his mouth. “Ahoy, Blue Turtle, send your master on deck. My captain would have words with him. D’ye hear me?”

There was no sign of life from the other vessel. Little Alexi stamped his double-heeled shoe on the keg. “Are they all dead or deaf? Hail them again, gunner!”

The man did as he was commanded. About half a minute went by, then three figures emerged on the fo’c’sle deck: a man, a boy and a dog.

The cook, Nico, had a blanket draped about him, and he was limping badly. Flour and stove soot had done a good job on him—dark rings circled the agonised eyes, peering from an ashen face. The boy looked to be in the same condition; he was bravely trying to support the limping man. Two large and disgusting sores could be seen on the dog’s back. Little Captain Alexi recoiled at the unsavory sight, even at that distance. He drew forth a spotless silk kerchief and held it to his face.

Nico gave a strangled gurgle and grasped at his throat. Deputising for him, Ben called out in a reedy voice, “For pity’s sake, send us some clean drinking water, sir!”

The gunner replied, “We’ll send ye water, but first tell my captain how ye came to be here.”

“Go on, mate, lay it on thick, you poor lad. This pork rind is itching my back, can’t wait to pull it off and eat it!”

Ignoring Ned’s thoughts, Ben told their story. “We were bound for Muggia, carrying goods for the convent there. Then the cholera struck us, it must have been through drinking contaminated water. I beg you, sirs, help us—our captain, mate, and four crew have all perished from the sickness. There’s only me, the cook, and the dog who can still move about. The rest are below decks, it’s awful down there. For mercy’s sake, send us water, Cap’n!”

Little Alexi and his master gunner held a brief, whispered conversation, then Alexi took the hailer. “Water will be arriving shortly, stay where you are. We will not be boarding your vessel, and you will certainly not be boarding my ship. Understood?” Nico gave a feeble wave of acknowledgment, allowing Alexi to continue. “With a dead captain, I don’t think you’ll have anyone capable of reading charts or setting courses. Last night’s storm has blown your craft well up into the Adriatic Sea. You are about three leagues off the Dalmatian Islands. I propose to take you in tow. You are going to a small, uninhabited isle, not far from Losinj and the greater Dalmatians.”

Ben seemed bewildered. “An uninhabited island, sir, but who will be there to minister to us?”

Little Alexi answered sternly. “Even if there were people there, who would come aboard a plague ship? No, boy, it is up to what’s left of your crew to heal yourselves, and make your ship seaworthy again. If you ever make it to the convent at Muggia, I am sure the sisters there will care for you. Now, stand by to receive water and a towing rope!”

Kostas suddenly appeared on deck, carrying a huge painting. It was the one of the Virgin and Child surrounded by many angels, which Fra Salvatore himself had painted for the Mother Superior of the convent. Kostas Krimboti had removed his gold coin teeth and covered his mop of red curls with a turban made from a bedsheet. He had dotted his face with bits of pork rind, stuck on with grease. The effect was frightening. He laughed and cackled as though he had lost his mind from the fever. Dribbling from the side of his mouth, he winked at his old adversary.

“Your Honour, accept this lovely painting as a gift from our dead cap’n. I took it from his stiff hands for you!”

Little Alexi stumbled from his perch on the keg. He hurried off to his cabin, calling back to the gunner, “Tell them to keep that idiot below decks! Fire on the vessel if they try to pass the painting over!”

Ben caught the heaving line, to which the cask of fresh water and the towing hawser were attached. Nico, Kostas and Ned helped him to haul it in and attach the tow to their forepeak. Under the gaze of the gunner and several horrified navy crewmen, they shuffled off to the captain’s cabin.

Yanni eyed Kostas fiercely. “Why did you do that? You promised to stay out of sight!”

The big Greek paused to insert his golden teeth. “Hohoho, where’s your sense of humour, Yanniko? I just had to take a look at that pompous little oaf. He hasn’t changed a bit. No, wait, I think he’s grown even smaller. Hohohoho!”

Ben pointed an accusing finger at the captain. “Aye, but if he’d recognised you, your neck would have grown longer by now, and Yanni’s, too!”

Kostas looked shamefaced, but only for a moment. “I’m sorry, boy, it was silly of me.” Then he held up a cup of the fresh water they had taken from the Callisto. “Let’s drink a toast to Little Admiral Alexi! Hohoooo!”

Everyone laughed. Kostas Krimboti was not a man you could stay mad at for long. He quaffed off the water. “This far up the Adriatic, eh, that storm must’ve driven us along like a wild eagle. That’s the fastest my old Blue Turtle ever went. Well, let’s settle down for a good rest. Little Alexi isn’t going to hang us by his rope, he’s going to tow us to safety! Here, Nico, let me help you back to your bunk. Easy now, don’t wake the baby Amico, he’s still snoring like a dog.”

Ned huffed. “Snoring like a dog? I wonder if humans listen to themselves when they’re asleep. Still, you can’t help liking Kostas, the golden-mouthed rogue!”

Ben curled up alongside his dog, thinking, “I wonder how the Rizzolis went on in that storm?”

Ned opened one eye. “No, you mean you wonder how the beautiful Serafina went on, and does she still love you?”

Ben tweaked the Labrador’s tail. “Silence, Bundi!”

The day brightened as it progressed. Ghigno even allowed his captives out on deck to take the air. Serafina stared out over the sunlit waters, pointing.

“Oh, look, Lindi, dolphins, aren’t they beautiful!”

La Lindi joined her to watch the graceful mammals following the ship. The snake charmer lowered her voice. “They’ve stopped searching for Ben and Ned, I heard one of the guards chatting. We’re headed straight to Piran, with no stops in between. At least that’s good news for him, not being pursued anymore.”

Serafina never took her eyes from the dolphins. “Not such good news for Otto, though—that leaves him only one chance to see that we escape.”

La Lindi opened the basket lid to allow her python, Mwaga, a little warmth from the sun. “It’s just as well, I have a bad feeling about this idea of escape. It’s far too dangerous. Do you imagine Al Misurata would sit still and twiddle his thumbs if we were free?”

Mamma Rizzoli had been eavesdropping close by.

“We’ve got to do something, or face a life of slavery. Leave Otto to his plans, we are all in the hands of the good Lord above and his angels.”

Ghigno passed the wheel to a crewman as Al Misurata appeared on deck. The pirate looked about him before addressing the Corsair. “What course did you set this morning?”

Ghigno pointed. “Nor’east, out into the Adriatic. We’ll drift by the Dalmatians, and follow the coast up to Piran. Unless you’d like me to change course and stay on the Italian side, Master?”

Al Misurata considered the alternative awhile. “No, you’re right, my friend. Nor’east it is. Those Dalmatian Islands, there are lots of small coves there where a ship might lie low to avoid pursuit.”

Ghigno fingered the scar on his face. “You are still searching for the boy, then?”

Al Misurata narrowed his eyes. “I have always succeeded—failure was never in my nature. If you are a fox seeking a rabbit, it does no harm to visit the places where that rabbit may be hiding.”

Ghigno nodded. “We are bound for Kornat. From there we will follow the island coasts, past Dugi Otok and Losinj, then across to Pula and the Slovenijan mainland. Not far to Piran then, Lord.”

Al Misurata dropped his tone to a murmur. “Not far, Ghigno. Send those entertainers back to their quarters. The snake lady has ears that hear too much.”