Voyage of Slaves

33

AT MIDDAY AL MISURATA SIGHTED the walled building that was the convent through a gap in the roadside trees. He signalled the coach to halt. Ghigno rode to his side.

“Lord, why have you stopped the coach?”

The pirate pointed. “That place up on the hill. Give me your glass.”

The Corsair passed his master a small folding telescope.

Al Misurata spoke as he scanned through the glass. “Take two guards you can trust, go and see what that place is. Make sure you are not seen.” He touched the bandage on his wound gingerly. “I’ll stay here and bathe this injury. My head’s throbbing so I can hardly think, and the bandage has become stuck to it. Take your time, go carefully and see how the building is secured.”

Ghigno dismounted from his horse. “I’ll find them, if that’s where they’re hiding.”

The pirate cautioned him, “Stay out of sight. If you see them, don’t do anything, just report back to me!”

When Ghigno had selected his men and departed, Al Misurata sat on the back step of the coach, ministering to his wound and reflecting on the odd and unlucky turns his life had taken since he had met the strange boy and his dog. He had lost valuable slaves, been wounded and outwitted. Moreover, he had been forced to kill the emissary and servants of Count Dreskar. This last fact meant that he could no longer trade along these shores. Dreskar was no fool, he would find out what had happened. Men as powerful and influential as the Count could not be seen to let such incidents go unpunished.

Nor could Al Misurata. He had lost slaves, but more significantly, he had lost face. Ghigno and his own men had seen him hoodwinked and beaten. Now there would be no more lusting after gold until his honour, such as it was, stood restored. As Lord of the Barbary Coast, he had to uphold his standards.

Noontide shadows were beginning to lengthen when Ghigno and his men returned. The Corsican’s scarred face showed that it had been a successful survey. He gave his master the good news. “Lord, it is a convent, a house of women. We could not go around the back of it, because there is a sheer drop down to the sea. Inside the wall which surrounds the main building there is a courtyard and gardens, the wall is high and well built.”

Al Misurata drummed his fingers on the coach step, his tone denoting that he was running out of patience. “Forget courtyards and gardens—get to the point!”

Ghigno bowed deferentially. “The main gate, Lord, it is old, and not too tightly secured. It would be no problem for me to open it. A flat metal bar is all that holds it shut. I tried it by putting my sword blade through the doorjamb—it could be opened with one swift flick. There was also a big, rusty old lock with a wide keyhole. I took a peep through, no key has been used on it for years.

“Looking through the keyhole, I could see the performers’ cart in the courtyard. They must be in there, though there was no sign of the two wagons, or the two teams that pulled them.”

Al Misurata had heard enough. “You did well, my friend. The wagons and horses do not concern me. It will make things easier without having to deal with the crew that ran them. So, our birds have flown to roost in a convent, eh? Well, they’ll soon find out that holy sanctuary means nought to me! You and the men rest until dark. No, wait, send one of them back to my ship, lend him your horse. Give him orders that the Sea Djinn must be brought up here. We will need to be away from this area by dawn.”

That evening, Mother Carmella permitted all her nuns to attend dinner. The Convento di Santa Filomena rarely had such a number of colourful guests staying there. The Sisters were naturally curious. Intrigued by the presence of their visitors, they were delighted when the entertainers put on a little show for them. Buffo and Mummo were going through their act in full clown makeup, causing great hilarity among the nuns with their comical antics, when Mamma took her husband aside for a quiet word.

“Augusto, look at poor Serafina, the girl’s eyes are all puffy from weeping. She doesn’t want to sing tonight.”

Signore Rizzoli tuned up his mandolin. “What do you suppose is the matter, cara mia?”

His wife raised her eyes upward, toward the high verandah. “It looks like she and Ben have quarreled. I went upstairs to have a word with him, but he is sleeping out on that balcony with Ned. What are we to do?”

The showman shook his head. “Stay out of it, we have no business interfering in a lovers’ quarrel. Serafina and Ben are young, they’ll soon get over it. You worry too much. Well, if the girl isn’t singing tonight, I’d better fill in for her.”

As the applause for the clowns died down, Augusto strolled into the centre of the floor. Picking out a melodic introduction, he began singing in his fine tenor voice.

“An old woman leaned out of her window one day, as a handsome young fellow strolled by, he was singing a song as he rambled along ’neath the soft blue Italian sky.

La la la la lala lala la

“O bella ragazza, the one that I wed, must have two eyes as blue as the sky overhead, her teeth will be white as the pale moon at night, she’ll be young and I’ll love her completely.

La la la la lala lala la

“Her hair will be dark as a black raven’s wing, and her lips sweet and red as the cherry, her manner so meek, and the bloom of her cheek, like a blush made of peach and strawberry.

La la la la lala lala la

“The old one cried after the handsome young man, I can’t match your description alas, my teeth are like stars, for they come out at night, and the bloom on my cheek is long past.

La la la la lala lala la

“But I have some blue glasses as blue as the sky, and I’m sure I can paint my lips red, from the fortune in gold that my husband left me, I could buy a black wig for my head.

La la la la lala lala la

“The young man turned round, he came walking back, crying out I have travelled too far, that fortune should cause me to pass by your door,

La la la la lala lala la!”

Evening faded to night as the entertainment continued. Mother Carmella was enjoying herself so much, she let the troupe carry on with their show. La Lindi performed her snake-dancing act with Mwaga, even though Serafina did not play the Kongo drum for accompaniment. The good Sisters stared at the python in horrified fascination, some of them crossing themselves. Never had they seen a reptile of such size and sinister grace within the walls of Santa Filomena. Then it was Otto’s turn to elicit gasps of awe from the audience. He bent iron bars, lifted huge weights and performed a clever balancing act with the two clowns seated on a heavy bench.

Whilst all this was going on, Serafina sat in the corner silently. Though she was heartbroken and distressed, she cast frequent glances in the direction of the stairs, hoping to see Ben and Ned coming down from the verandah. La Lindi came to sit by her. She, too, looked at the stairs.

“It looks like Ben is going to spend the night up there. He’s probably cold and hungry.”

“What can I do about that?” Serafina murmured sadly.

The snake charmer put forward her suggestion. “Take my cloak, and Otto’s cloak, too, he won’t mind. There’s plenty of food left on the table, get some for Ben and Ned. I’m sure they’ll be grateful to you. While you’re there you can patch up your quarrel.” Serafina sniffed, wiping her eyes. La Lindi stroked her friend’s cheek. “Go on, do as I say, sometimes you have to make the first move to reach a solution.”

Up on the verandah, it was dark, and a breeze was drifting in from the sea. Ben could not help a slight shiver. He huddled closer to his dog for warmth. Ned passed him a thought. “Why don’t we go down, mate, there might be some food still lying about. It’s getting a bit draughty up here, and I’m hungry.”

Ben did not attempt his usual humourous comments about the Labrador’s incorrigible appetite. “I’m not bothered about eating—you go down if you want to, Ned. Now that I’ve told Serafina that we must move on without her, I’m better off staying out of her sight. I don’t want to cause her or myself any more pain.”

Ned rested his head against the boy’s shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere on my own, I’ll stay here with you, mate. But how d’you know we’ll be moving on soon? The angel usually sends us a message, like the sound of a bell, or something of that nature. I can’t remember when it was that we last heard from our angel, can you, Ben?”

The boy let out an unhappy sigh. “No, I can’t, but I’ve got this feeling that it’s about to happen. We haven’t heard from the angel, yet I know that if I look out over the sea I’ll sight the Flying Dutchman out there. I’m worried, and frightened, too. We’ve rescued Serafina and our friends from slavery, I don’t want anything happening to them now.”

Ned grunted. “Neither do I. Maybe you’re right, we’ll just stay put up here for the night. Look out, what’s that, mate, somebody’s coming!”

It was Serafina. She came to them and draped the cloaks over Ben and Ned. “I brought you both some food, you haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Ben sat up, wrapping Otto’s cloak about him. “Thank you, Serafina, it was kind of you to think of us. I’m sorry about what I said to you earlier, but I will have to leave. Ned, too. I don’t expect you to understand. I feel terrible about it.”

The beautiful young girl shook her head. “I don’t understand, Ben, but I know you’d never lie to me about something like that. If you feel you must go, then there’s nothing I can do to stop you.”

Ned’s interruption hit Ben’s mind like a thunderbolt. “Tell her! Go on, tell her the truth, Serafina doesn’t deserve to be left like this. Tell her, Ben!”

The boy bit his lip, almost drawing blood as he replied, “I can’t, don’t you see, Ned, she’d never believe it!”

As if sensing his anguish, Serafina took Ben’s hands in hers. “Please, Ben, tell me why you must go. I couldn’t bear not knowing. Tell me, I don’t care what the reason is, I promise you I’ll accept it!”

The clouded blue eyes met hers. The strange boy held her hands tighter, then he began to speak. “Serafina, you will not believe this, unless you believe there is a God, and angels, and a heaven above.”

Ben got no further. There was the bang of a door being slammed open forcibly down below, coupled with the shouting of men, the cries of the Sisters, the yells of the Rizzoli Troupe and the fierce barking of Sansone. Al Misurata and his slavers had arrived inside the convent.