Voyage of Slaves

32

OUTSIDE THE TOWN OF MUGGIA, ON THE ITALIAN BORDER.

IT WAS AN HOUR AFTER DAWN ON A misty summer morn when the cart and the two wagons halted. Above them on the brow of the hill stood a walled building. Ben and Ned jumped from their wagon, but before they could reach the troupe’s cart, Otto had broken the doorlock with a single heave of his mighty shoulders. The troupe tumbled forth, cheering and laughing as they were reunited with the boy and his dog. Serafina reached Ben first and embraced him, shedding tears of joy upon his face and kissing them away. “Oh Ben, Ben, I knew you’d save us!”

Augusto Rizzoli held the rest back. “Look at the young ones, such a sight, eh?”

Buffo caught sight of Ben’s face over Serafina’s shoulder. “Magnifico! His face is on fire!”

Mummo did a handspring on the path. “He’d make red pepper look pale!”

Mamma cuffed both the clowns’ ears. “Leave the children alone, were you never young?”

Ned was sending out frantic messages. “Will someone kindly tell Otto to put me down!”

Janos Cabar shook hands with the rescued slaves. “My friends, I think you’ll be safe in that place up there. I have heard the Sisters are kind folk!”

Mamma raised her hands to the building, as if in prayer. “The Convento di Santa Filomena, heaven be praised!”

“Vagabonds! Bandits! Be off, go away!”

A very old nun had the main gate slightly open. She was waving a broom at them, shouting, “I warn you, go away, or I’ll set Sansone³⁵ on you!”

Janos approached, calling back to the ancient Sister, “Mind your manners, old lady, go and tell your Mother Superior that some friends of Kostas Krimboti wish to speak with her. Hurry now, we haven’t got all day!”

The old Sister vanished, slamming the gate behind her.

Magda chewed on her pipestem, scanning the road behind them. “She’d better put a move on, those slavers could be right on our tail!”

There was a pause, then the main gate reopened. The Mother Superior came out to meet them. She was a small, well-built lady, not unlike Mamma Rizzoli, with lots of laughter wrinkles around her eyes. She pointed a finger at Janos. “Only you look wild enough to be a companion of the rascal Krimboti. I am Mother Carmella. What can I do for you, my child?”

The smugglers’ leader was rather taken aback at being referred to as a child, so Ben answered for her.

“Marm, we are seeking sanctuary from a Barbary slave lord. Kostas Krimboti recommended your convent to me.”

Mother Carmella linked her arm in Ben’s, smiling benignly.“Santa Filomena would never fail to open its doors to the needy and oppressed. You are welcome here, signore.”

The boy waved to the troupe. “Come on, everybody!”

Only Janos and her Istrani Wolves remained out on the path. Ben went to her. “Won’t you come inside for just a moment, friend? Who knows, they’re probably serving breakfast about now.”

Janos watched her women hitching Poppea to the troupe cart and sending her inside with the others. “No, no, Ben, I must be on my way now. I will carry on to Trieste. There’s a cheese and olive oil merchant there, he’ll load up my two wagons for the return trip. I’ll pick my other wagons up at the Grey Swan on the road back.”

The boy endured the smuggler’s vise-like grip as he shook hands with her. “Janos Cabar, it has been a pleasure knowing you. Thanks for all your good help, and a safe journey to you!”

The Istrani Wolves were ready and waiting. Janos sprang up on her big black stallion, cracking the bullwhip.

As they pounded off down the trail, Ben could not resist cupping both hands around his mouth and giving voice to the wolf call. “Howoooooyaaaaah!”

Janos, Magda, Katya and the rest bayed back at him. “Howoooooyaaaaah!” Then they were gone into the gold-tinged mists of the summer morning.

The ancient Sister who locked the gate after she had admitted Ben crossed herself, staring suspiciously at him. “Howling like a wild beast, I still think you’re some kind of rogue or bandit!”

Inside, the convent building was beautiful in its simplicity. Whitewashed walls, plain wood and woven rush matting bore witness to the nuns’ modest way of life. Mother Carmella showed Ben to the refectory, where the troupe were seated for breakfast. She sat down beside him.

“First you must eat, we can talk later.”

Ben looked around for his dog, sending out a message. “Ned, where are you? It’s not like you to miss breakfast, mate!”

The black Labrador and another dog padded into the room. Both were carrying huge beef marrowbones. Ben was startled by the size of Ned’s companion. He was absolutely huge, with a massive square head and a long, scraggly coat of black and grey.

Ned did a doggy chuckle. “Meet Sansone, the guardian of Santa Filomena. No need to worry about him, mate, he’s soft as an old feather bed until the Sisters give him the order to attack. This fellow’s living the life of a king here— imagine getting bones like this whenever you want ’em!”

They wandered over, and Ben patted Sansone’s head. The big dog was definitely a softie.

Sliced ham, cheese, fresh bread, fruit and a variety of drinks soon appeared. Everybody bowed their heads in silence as Mother Carmella recited a Latin grace. Then they fell to. Mamma Rizzoli had far more to say than Ben; after the meal she talked animatedly with the Mother Superior about what had happened to them. Both ladies seemed to have hit it off so well together that Ben took the chance to steal off with Serafina.

Ned looked up from his bone, commenting to Sansone, “I’ve warned him, but he doesn’t listen to me. Huh, humans, think they know better than us!”

There was an upstairs verandah at the rear of the convent, which had a wonderful view of the Adriatic Sea and the Gulf of Venice, now that the morning mist had cleared. Ben leaned on the verandah rail, looking out over the water. Serafina stood at his side, watching his face.

“You seem to know the sea well, Ben. I’d never set eyes on it before Lindi and I joined up with the troupe.”

The boy turned to face her. “And do you like it?”

Serafina shrugged. “I don’t know yet. It reminds me of something in your eyes, so cloudy and far off, mystic almost. What do you think?”

Ben turned back to the view. He wanted to tell her everything about his strange life. From that night in Copenhagen,over eighty years ago, when he fell in the harbour and was swept out to sea in the wake of the Flying Dutchman, clinging to a rope. Of the times he and Ned had shared on the world’s great oceans. He wanted to tell of the curse the Lord had cast upon Captain Vanderdecken and his ship, condemned to wander the seas for eternity. Both he and his dog were the only ones spared, by an angel, from sharing that voyage.³⁶ Thoughts and yearnings flooded his mind, yearnings he dared not contemplate. Would she believe it? No sensible person would, it was all too fantastic.

Serafina tugged at his sleeve. “Have you gone to sleep, or are you going to answer me? What do you think of the sea, Ben?”

He spoke slowly, choosing his words as he avoided her luminous dark eyes. “I am bound to the sea, in one way or another. Sometimes I love it, yet other times I hate it.” He heaved a sigh. “Serafina, there is something I must tell you. Something that might hurt you.”

Alarm showed on the girl’s beautiful face. “You could never hurt me, Ben. What is it, what’s wrong?”

He lowered his head to the rail, letting his forehead rest there. “I cannot stay with you. Ned and I have to move on. It might happen today, or even tomorrow, but it is my fate—I will have to leave you!”

Tears sprang unbidden to the girl’s eyes. “But why?” Ben felt a leaden ache in his chest. “I cannot tell you that. Just believe what I say. Go on with your life, you have friends who love you. Go with the troupe, try to forget you ever met me.”

Serafina clutched his hand. “How can you say that? I will never forget you. If you go I will stay here forever!”

At that moment, something echoed through Ben’s mind. It was not his dog trying to communicate with him. It was a distant sound of laughter, chillingly evil, filled with malicioussatisfaction. He brought his head up sharply and saw the accursed ship out in the bay—every detail of its barnacle-crusted hull, tattered sails and ice-stiffened rigging. There was Vanderdecken, lashed to the wheel, beckoning him and laughing like a maniac. The spell was suddenly broken by Serafina’s scream. Unwittingly, the vision of the phantom ship had caused Ben to clench his hand so tightly that he had crushed the girl’s with his furious pressure.

As soon as he realised what had happened, Ben released his grip. Serafina hurried off sobbing, clutching her hand close to her. He shouted after her, “Serafina!” Ben was about to dash after the girl, when Ned appeared in the doorway, blocking his path.

“Let her go, mate, it’s better this way. I couldn’t help but hear your thoughts, that’s why I came up here. I felt the Dutchman somewhere out there, too. I know you feel terrible, Ben, but you did the right thing, even though it hurt you both so much.”

The boy knelt, sobbing into Ned’s fur, as the faithful dog attempted to reason with him.

“Serafina was right, Ben, she won’t ever forget you, nor will you ever forget her. But take my word, she won’t stay here to become a nun, she’ll go with the troupe. Eventually she’ll find some happiness in her life. I hate to say this, but time is a great healer.” He nuzzled the boy’s shoulder gently. “Let’s stay up here awhile, you and I. Don’t want everybody to see you like this, do we? Come on, we’ll sit by the wall where the sun is nice and warm, you just relax until you feel better.” Ned licked the tears from Ben’s face. “Huh, left my marrowbone to come up here. That Sansone will be making short work of it by now, great hungry beasty, a big beef marrowbone is only a snack to him!”

Ben took his dog’s face in both hands. “Ned, Ned, what human ever had a friend as true and faithful as you!”

The dog stared into his master’s eyes, then blinked. “Hmm, I’ll have to think about that one. Don’t know really, I wonder if Mother Carmella has books on the subject.

Maybe she has—Loving Labradors, Volume One, or Devoted Dogs, Volume Two. I’ll ask Sansone, trouble is he’s probably only read the illustrated edition of Magnificent Marrowbones!”

Despite himself, Ben smiled. “What about The Amazing Adventures of Amico?”

Ned stretched out, closing his eyes appreciatively in the sunlit warmth. “Don’t talk such piffle. That little maggot hasn’t lived long enough to have amazing adventures. Can’t you think of a better one?”

Ben made a suggestion. “Black Bundi the Bumptious Bounder?”

Ned opened one eye. “What did I say about you mentioning that name ever again?”

Ben replied innocently, “What, you mean Bundi?”

Ned closed the eye again. “No, I meant Bumptious!”

Boy and dog lay there together until the sun worked its magic, leaving them both slumbering.