Voyage of Slaves

“Ungrateful worm, now you will know what it is like to be a slave! I have killed men with my bare hands for saying less than you did to me! That’s what I get for offering you the hand of friendship, eh? Before I am done you will be begging on your bended knees to serve me without question!”

The cellar door swung open, and Ben was hurled inside. He clattered down a flight of stone steps into complete blackness. The guards barred the door, one of them calling down to him, “Little jackass, we’ll see if you still feel so bold in a week or so. If you make a sound in there we’ll send Bomba to silence you with his quirt!”

Ben heard their retreating footsteps. Then there was only silence, and inky darkness. A large insect scuttled over his hand. He crawled forward until he felt the wall. Sitting with his back against the rough limestone, he buried his face in both hands and wept uncontrollably. “Ned, where are you? Answer me, Ned, answer me!”

5

CONTRARY TO LA LINDI’S PREDICTION, Ned did live to see the sunset, though he slept deeply for most of the day. He came awake in the dark, still sprawled upon the wagon step. Not far from him, the troupe sat around the fire, eating their supper. Savoury aromas from a cauldron over the flames fanned hunger pangs within the black Labrador. He had no recollection of when he had last eaten, nor of anything else in his life before he had been washed up on the Libyan shores. Driven by hunger, Ned tried to stand. His legs buckled under him, and he fell flat on the sand.

Mummo was stirring the contents of the cauldron when he saw the dog fall from the wagon step. “Look, Otto, your dogfish has come to life!”

Serafina grabbed a rug and ran to Ned’s side, spreading it. “Otto, lift him onto this, it will keep the sand from his coat. Poor Bundi, your legs aren’t working properly yet, but you’re nice and clean, all soft and silky.”

The big German lifted Ned easily onto the rug. He began massaging his dog’s ears fondly. Ned grunted with pleasure. The strongman murmured soothingly, “Ja, mein Herr,⁸ Bundi, you will soon be well again, won’t you, old fellow? Watch his eyes, Serafina, I think he’s trying to thank us for saving his life!”

Bringing her face close, the girl peered into Ned’s eyes. “Oh, I’m sure he is, just look at those wonderful eyes, Otto.”

If Ned could have spoken, he would have returned the compliment a hundredfold. The girl Serafina was the most beautiful human being he had ever encountered. Reflecting the fireglow, her skin shone like polished black marble, her teeth were white as fresh milk; as for her eyes, Ned judged that any comparison with his was out of the question. The girl’s eyes were almost almond-shaped, and they were very large. Twin dark, starlit orbs, in settings the hue of old ivory. He was captivated by the warm, husky sound of her voice.

“Poor Bundi, you must be hungry.”

“Hungry?” Ned thought. “I could eat my own tail, uncooked!”

The strongman passed Serafina a bowl. “Try him with this, Mädchen,⁹ it’s a raw egg beaten in goat’s milk. I put a pinch of salt in, it should do him good.”

Serafina held the bowl to Ned’s mouth, restraining him slightly to prevent him gulping it. The Labrador took it all, licking the bowl and the girl’s fingers thoroughly. She patted his head. “Good boy, Bundi, we’ll try you with something more solid tomorrow.”

Ned gave her fingers an extra lick. “Thank you, pretty miss, I’ll look forward to it!”

Supper being over, and the fire burning to embers, the troupe prepared for rest. Mamma Rizzoli and La Lindi went inside the tented wagon, telling Serafina not to sit up too late with the dog. Buffo, Mummo, and Otto lay under the cart, wrapped in long Arab robes. Signore Rizzoli attended to Poppea, covering the mare with a blanket, tying her running line to a cart wheel, and leaving her a pail of fresh water nearby. “Rest now, my noble lady, we move on tomorrow.”

Donning a long Italian army officer’s greatcoat with caped shoulders, the showman went to sit beside Serafina. “You need your sleep, piccina,¹⁰ so does your Bundi by the look of him. We’ll be travelling tomorrow.”

The girl rubbed her eyes. “I’m going into the wagon soon. Look, Signore, Bundi is nodding off, too. See how sad his eyes are? He looks completely lost. I wonder whose dog he is, and how he came to be here with us.” Serafina gave Ned a final pat, then went into the wagon.

Through drooping eyelids Ned stared up at the Mediterranean night sky. It was moonless, but pierced by twinkling pinpoints of countless stars. A comet blazed its path across the dark vaults, the brief, flaming brilliance almost instantly gone amid the uncharted heavens. The black Labrador’s eyes closed. Soon he was lost in the clouded seas of forgetfulness, with no knowledge of his past, his master, or any of the events which had brought him to this far shore.