Voyage of Slaves (35 page)

Ben ran up to the first person he saw, a fussily overdressed woman, with a maid holding a parasol over her head. He gasped raggedly, “Quick! Have you seen two horses go by carrying two men and young girl? Tell me!”

The woman brought a lorgnette up to her eyes, gazing in disgust at the muddy-faced boy, his trouser leg torn out, blood gouting from one knee and his features smeared with the wet dirt of the streets.

Ben pushed the torn sacking back from his brow, shouting, “Well, have you? Two men and a girl on horseback!”

The fussy woman turned to the maid holding the parasol. “Go and get help, he’s mad, he’s going to attack me!”

Ben looked pleadingly at the maid. “Did you see them?”

She shook her head dumbly as the woman grabbed the parasol from her and began belabouring Ben with it. “Help! Help! I’m being attacked by a mad boy!”

He stumbled off through the mud-spattered drizzle, with the woman’s shouts growing fainter behind him. The boy hurried through a maze of streets, each one looking like the last, staggering into objects blindly, lumbering onward, until he finally tripped and fell headlong for a second time. He lurched upright, swayed, then sat down heavily, dragging himself backward until he felt a wall against his shoulders.

Licking the blood from a parasol wound on his lip, Ben sat wondering what to do next. Should he carry on searching, go back to the ship until they returned or go to the Grey Swan and get cleaned up? Yes, that was it, Ned might be back at the inn by now. They would carry on the search together—between them they would find Serafina. Groaning, Ben pushed himself upright and wiped mud from his eyes as he stared about. Then he realised—he was lost!

Nowhere was familiar. He had run willy-nilly around a strange town until all his bearings were completely turned around. There looked to be nobody abroad on the miserable streets, owing to the quagmire of mud and rain. Nobody except a ragged beggar, shuffling in his direction. Ben approached him and asked the way.

“Do you know the Inn of the Grey Swan? I need to get there.”

The man cast a withering glance at the boy, who appeared to possess as little as himself. Pushing Ben aside, he carried on along the street. Ben took out some of the small coins which Janos had given him and jingled them.

The beggar halted, turning to face him. “What did ye say the name of the place was?”

The boy showed him a silver coin, but held on to it. “The Inn of the Grey Swan.”

Gazing avidly at the coin, the beggar nodded. “Follow me, young sir, I know the place.”

He took Ben along a few back alleys and out onto a broader street. As they were passing a narrow passage to a courtyard, the boy glanced sideways. There was a covered section in the courtyard; the two Arab steeds were tethered there.

Ben grabbed the beggar’s grimy hand, pressing the coin into it. “Here, this place will do me!”

The man protested, “But the Grey Swan is only around the next corner on the right, sir.”

Ben patted his arm. “Thank you, I’ll find it myself.” He gave the beggar his coin and watched him shuffle off.

Ben’s mind was racing with excitement when an idea occurred to him. Mentally he projected his thoughts as he walked around to the front entrance to the building. “Ned, are you there? Speak to me, mate!”

Some jumbled phrases entered his mind—it was Ned. “Rotten old furryface, it was you who locked that window, I know it was. If I get my teeth around your tail. . . . Eh, what . . . Ben, is that you, can’t you get in here, either? Huh, that confounded Pandora!”

Ben interrupted his dog’s prattle. “Ned, listen to me. I’m just on the next street to you, outside a hotel called The Crown of Slovenija. Serafina’s in there, with Misurata and the Scar-face. I need to know why they’ve brought her here, so stop arguing with that cat and get round here quick!”

The Crown of Slovenija appeared to be a high-class establishment. Its front hall was thickly carpeted, the walls were hung with gilt-framed paintings and chandeliers dangled from the ceiling. The Major Domo who stood between Ben and the dining salon was a portly, uniformed fellow. He gave the ragged, mud-besmirched boy a jaundiced stare, then beckoned him to be off with a fluttering gesture of his white-gloved hand. Knowing there was no way to get by him, Ben went back to wait outside the courtyard entrance.

He did not have long to wait. The faithful Labrador came bounding out of the drizzly curtain to his side. “Well, I know where the cart is, mate, just outside of town, by a stream in some woodland. Where’s our girl, then, have you seen her?”

Ben crouched by his dog’s side as he answered. “She’s inside somewhere, but there’s no chance of me getting in, I’d be ejected on sight.”

Ned shook himself vigorously. “Right, you stay here, I’ll sneak in the back way and see what’s going on!”

Serafina sat at a corner table in the salon with Al Misurata. Ghigno had gone off somewhere to carry out his master’s wishes. The beautiful black girl had allowed an attendant to take her cloak. Other diners stared openly at the man in costly Arab garb and the fascinating girl. Al Misurata ignored them, indicating a selection of small frosted tarts and an ornate pot of hot chocolate which had been served to them.

“Help yourself, girl. One as pretty as you should get accustomed to a life of luxury.”

Serafina stared miserably at the woven damask table covering. “I’m not hungry, sir, all I want is to go back to the Rizzoli Troupe.”

The pirate poured himself a dainty cup of the hot chocolate. “All in good time, miss. Ah, here comes Ghigno.”

The Corsair was accompanied by a sallow-faced man whose attire suggested that he might be a country squire. Ghigno introduced him. “Lord, this is the head steward and aide to Count Dreskar. Ferenc Kuvan!”

Al Misurata viewed the aide with raised eyebrows. “I was told I would be dealing personally with your master?”

The aide bowed formally. “Sir, I am here to do business with you on Count Dreskar’s behalf. He sends his apologies and regrets, but he has been called away on urgent matters of state.”

Al Misurata appeared to digest this information for a time. Then he turned to Ghigno. “Take the girl and wait elsewhere for me.”

Ghigno escorted Serafina away. Al Misurata beckoned the aide to sit in her place, noticing the way he had appraised the girl.

“A real beauty, that one—I think your master would agree?”

Ferenc Kuvan got straight down to business. “What about the others, did you not bring them?”

The pirate wagged a finger, smiling. “Piran has many eyes and ears, it would be foolish to bring them all. I am merely showing you the jewel of the collection. The others are safe enough, my friend.”

The aide’s face disguised the fact that he did not relish being called the friend of a Barbary pirate. He tapped a finger on the tabletop.“How many are they, and what about the fair-skinned boy your report mentioned?”

Al Misurata found lying as natural as drawing breath. “Alas, he was lost overboard in a storm. But the others are a worthy addition to the girl. There are six of them, including a German strongman, a prime specimen. Then there is a dancer and snake charmer, older than the girl, but very attractive, a real Nubian lady. There are two brothers, acrobats, clowns, Count Dreskar would find them immensely entertaining. Then there is an older couple, man and wife, they are very obedient and have many years service still in them.”

Count Dreskar’s head steward cut the pirate short. “I will take the girl, the Nubian lady and the German. The others would not interest my master.”

Al Misurata sat back. Making a tent of his fingers, he stared at Ferenc Kuvan over it, speaking levelly. “You will take them all, that is the deal I agreed with Dreskar. Or I can make you another offer—your master can forget any arrangements we made, and be satisfied to have you back, plus the gift of a dagger, which you will carry in your heart.”

There followed a silence, in which the pirate watched the aide’s Adam’s apple bob up and down several times. When he had regained some composure, Ferenc Kuvan spoke.

“Let us discuss the price of your wares.”

Al Misurata nodded casually. “I warn you, I drive a hard bargain, my friend.”

Ben wandered up and down the mudwashed path outside, cold and hungry. It seemed an age since his dog had slunk inside from the courtyard entrance. Late afternoon was sinking toward evening when Ned emerged into the street. Ben hurried to him. “Well, did you see her?”

The dog grabbed Ben’s torn trouser leg. “Come with me, hurry up. And don’t stand gawping at her, or the Scarface’ll see you. Come on!”

He led Ben around to the front entrance. As they passed the hall doorway, the boy found himself staring straight into the eyes of Serafina. Ghigno was studying one of the paintings on the wall, but he had a firm grip on the girl’s arm. Her almond eyes grew wide at the sight of Ben, who had only enough time to wink and nod reassuringly at her. Then the dog dragged him away, communicating urgently. “Don’t stand there like a lovelorn duck. Move yourself!”

Serafina felt as though she was suddenly hovering on air at the sight of Ben. Ghigno turned and looked at her quizzically.

“What’s the matter with you, girl, do you feel faint?”

She quickly turned her eyes to the carpeted floor. “Er, no! Well, a little bit. Please could I have something to eat? I feel a bit hungry.”

On the way back to the Grey Swan, Ned explained what had taken place in the salon. “I managed to get into that room where old Miseryguts was sitting at a table with another fellow. I could see Serafina and the Scar-face waiting in the hallway. Anyhow, you know those long, padded seats that run along the walls? Well, I crawled under one end and bellied my way along. You’re lucky to have such a clever and resourceful dog as me. I got to within less than a yard of Miseryguts and the other one. And here’s what I learned . . .”

Nobody passing by would have guessed what was going on between the ragged, muddy boy and the saturated hound.

THE RIZZOLIS’ CART STOOD IN A QUIET woodland glade, surrounded by armed men. But for the presence of the black-burnoosed guards with their jezzails and spears, it would have been an idyllic setting. Poppea, the troupe’s mare, had been hobbled, so that she could crop the greenery or drink from a nearby stream. The only view which the passengers in the cart had of the outside was through a small, circular window in the upper half of the rear door. Augusto Rizzoli peered through it, trying to estimate the number of their captors.

“I can see six guards from here, but that’s only about half of them.”

Otto pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “
Ja,
the others are out there, I can hear them.”

The normally happy Mummo was very down in the mouth. “Six or twenty-six, what can we do against armed men? This will probably be the last chance we have to escape!”

Mamma berated him sternly. “Shame on you, how can you even think of escaping without Serafina? We go nowhere without that girl!”

Buffo intervened on his brother’s behalf. “We’re all agreed on that, but Mummo was only expressing a fact. This time tomorrow we may all be whisked off to someplace unknown, sold off to some other villain.”

La Lindi stood on tiptoe, looking over Signore Rizzoli’s head at the two horses approaching the cart. “They’re bringing our Serafina back, see, it’s Misurata and Ghigno!”

Still dressed as she had been for Ferenc Kuvan’s inspection, the girl was thrust into the cart.

Mamma kissed her cheek. “
Che bella,
³⁴
what finery! Are you well,
cara mia
?”

Al Misurata interrupted from where he stood in the open doorway. “No harm has befallen her. Stay inside this cart, all of you. I don’t want to leave any graves behind when you move out tomorrow. My guards have orders to shoot if you so much as poke a finger outside. You have the girl back now, so sleep.”

Pink spots of anger showed on Signore Rizzoli’s cheeks. “Where are you sending us, and who have you sold us to, flesh peddler?”

The pirate grasped his sword handle. “Old fool, I am running out of patience with you! I could have cast you and your wife overboard and saved myself some trouble. Instead I insisted that you were all sold together, even you and her, as useless as you are. So shut your mouth and be grateful!”

He slammed the door shut and bolted it, then began issuing orders to Ghigno. “Count Dreskar’s aide will come for them before dawn. It is too late for us to travel back to the
Sea Djinn,
so we’ll camp here for the night. See to it!”

La Lindi, who had heard the pirate, scowled. “A pity the rain has stopped. I hope it starts again heavily and soaks the evil scum to the bone. Serafina, did you see the one who has bought us?”

The beautiful girl called them together and spoke in a whisper. “I saw a man, but I think he is in the service of someone more powerful. But listen, I saw Ben, too, and Ned, only for a moment. I think he means to help us, he smiled at me and winked, as if he had some kind of plan.”