Voyage of Slaves

Ben knelt to one side of the divan, his eyes riveted on Al Misurata’s left hand. Bomba, Ghigno and several other guests sat upon a thick Persian rug, reclining on bolsters and cushions. Four servants tended to their needs, but Ben’s task was to wait solely upon the master of the house.

A sumptuous banquet of food had been laid out, including a whole roast lamb, salads, an array of seafoods and bowls of fresh fruit, plus a selection of desserts and confections. Jasmina moved among the guests, pouring wines and cordials. Her watchful eyes were constantly checking on Ben, but so far the infidel boy had acquitted himself well.

Ben ministered promptly to Al Misurata’s needs, which were fairly modest. He was fond of a pale golden wine, but did not eat much, only some fruit, a lamb chop, and a little dessert, though he was very fastidious about washing his hands frequently.

The guests talked among themselves, ignoring the servers. However, they fell deferentially silent whenever Al Misurata spoke. He was indeed lord of all he surveyed, constantly consulting and questioning his guests, all of whom were stewards and overseers of his extensive lands and properties. When the food was cleared away, Al Misurata clapped his hands at the guard next to the door. “Let the entertainment commence!”

Clad in a baggy peach-and-brown silk suit, Signore Rizzoli strode in. Strumming on his mandolin, he bowed to the company, and announced in a singsong voice, “Signores, it is my pleasure and honour to present to you, for your diversion, the esteemed Troupe Rizzoli!”

Serafina entered, carrying a long, narrow Kongo drum. Every eye was on the startlingly beautiful black girl as she knelt and began beating a roll on the drum with her palms.

Signore Rizzoli called out, “Herr Otto Kassel, the Teutonic Samson!”

Draped in a leopard-skin costume, Otto paraded in, followed by the two clowns, Buffo and Mummo, who between them were rolling the strongman’s huge barbell. This was a long steel bar with a big cast-iron ball on either end. Otto stood to one side, watching in amusement as the two clowns tripped and fell over the mighty weight. They immediately leaped up, their painted faces trying to look strong and dignified. Buffo waved Otto out of his way. Pointing to himself, then indicating the barbell, he pantomimed that he, Buffo, was going to lift it. Mummo expressed scorn. He felt Buffo’s arm muscles, then shook with silent laughter. Placing his thumb in his mouth, Mummo began blowing hard. His biceps began to swell. Buffo did likewise, and his arm muscle began to swell also. Both clowns continued puffing until each had an enormously swollen muscle ballooning at their tight stretched sleeves.

Together they strained at the barbell, trying to lift it. The mighty weight never budged a fraction. Buffo and Mummo straightened up painfully, pulling droll faces and rubbing at their backs. Otto prodded at both clowns’ inflated muscles as Serafina struck the drum hard. Bang! The false muscles exploded simultaneously, causing the clowns to collapse in a comical faint. They lay draped over the steel bar as everybody, even Al Misurata, laughed.

Then Otto crouched over the bar, gripping it tight. With a sudden roar he lifted the entire thing, barbell and clowns, swinging it high over his head and holding it there. Buffo and Mummo hung like two pieces of washing on a line. The onlookers applauded Otto’s fine feat of strength.

The clowns went into their routine, causing much merriment with their antics. Otto did more of his strongman act, which included pulverizing a coconut with a single blow of his fist, and bending a metal spear in his teeth. He concluded by lifting the Kongo drum on the outstretched palms of his hands, with Serafina sitting on it. The strongman and the clowns made their bows and departed.

Signore Rizzoli then began picking a poignant melody on his mandolin, whilst Serafina accompanied it with a slow, muffled drumbeat. A rapt silence fell over the audience as she sang an old love song. Her voice sounded young, but very appealing, with a sweet, husky quality. Even Jasmina was distracted by the singing, relaxing her vigil over Ben. The tow-haired boy was enchanted by Serafina. His eyes and ears were filled with the sight and sound of the slender, beautiful black girl as she sang her sad song.

 

“Oh love is a mystery nobody knows, who sees the dew making tears on a rose.

Through night’s dark veil see a maiden forlorn, ever seeking a key to the gates of the dawn.

As she waits for her love from the sea.

Away in the east comes the sunrise anew, gently painting the skies gold and blue.