Voyage of Slaves

“A long time ago, a lifetime away, I knew one who loved me, could it be the same today?

Why does my heart still yearn, the way it used to do, old songs make teardrops fall, when I remember you.

Lala lala lalala laaaaaaaah.

 

“If I saw you now, my poor heart would say, stay with me forever, never ever go away.

Fools say that love is blind, I know that isn’t true, your face would tell me so, if I could look at you.

Lala lala lalala laaaaaaaalah!”

The echoes of Serafina’s voice hung on the still, warm air. A feeling Ben had never known came over him; it was like an actual ache in his chest as he gazed longingly at the girl. Suddenly, Ned’s calls were echoing through his bitter-sweet thoughts.

“Ben, Ben! Wipe it from your mind, it’s impossible! You know we will have to move on someday without her. Remember the angel’s command! You would have to watch Serafina growing older. What would happen if she saw the years passing, and you hadn’t aged by a day, what then?”

Ben continued looking at the girl. However, he heard his dog’s impassioned plea, and cast his eyes down, blinking. “The angel’s command, eh, Ned, the words that change my blessing into a curse!”

The faithful dog felt his friend’s single tear dampen his outstretched paw.

Augusto Rizzoli broke the spell. Putting aside his mandolin, he rose energetically. “Friends, we cannot sit here idle all day. Ben, have you been thinking about an act for you and your fine dog? That is, if you wish to take part in our show?”

The boy strove to shake off his feeling of sorrow and appear both eager and happy. “I’ll help with any work that needs doing, signore, but I haven’t really thought about performing.”

Mamma shook a finger at her husband. “Augusto, leave the boy alone, maybe he doesn’t want to be a trouper like us.”

Ned’s indignant thoughts cut across Ben’s mind. “Huh, does nobody care about my wishes? I don’t know about you, but I rather fancy being an entertainer. The applause, the admiration, the fame. . . .”

Ben replied to his friend’s thoughts. “I wouldn’t take up singing if I were you, mate, you’ve got a dreadful voice.”

The Labrador sniffed disdainfully. “Hah, speak for yourself, m’boy, your voice sounds like the creaking of a rusty gate. Wait, I’ve got an idea!”

Ben became aware of Serafina encouraging him. “I think you and Ned could work up a great act, Ben. Come on, give it a try, please!”

Ben glanced at the troupe’s expectant faces. “Well, alright,leave us to practice a bit first. Ned and I will try out a few ideas behind the stables.”

From the window of the upstairs room, Al Misurata and his two associates had been watching the group on the wagon steps. Ghigno nodded toward Serafina.

“That pretty girl is worth her weight in gold. She has a voice that would put the birds of paradise to shame.”

The pirate nodded agreement. “As long as Count Dreskar meets my price. Then he can lock that beautiful songbird in a gilded cage where she will sing only for him. We must treat her with extra-special care.”

Bomba snorted. “Slaves are all alike, master, give them cosseting and wrap them in silk if you want trouble. Special treatment makes slaves insolent and moody.” The big man knew he had spoken unthinkingly when Al Misurata’s withering glance fell on him.

“Your mother bore your father a fool, jackass! The girl does not yet know she is to be a slave. If she knew she was going to be sold off, she would grow troublesome and sullen. I have seen it happen before. Once Dreskar has paid for her, it is his own affair how he treats her. But I get the top price for slaves by selling my goods in perfect condition. Then there can be no dispute about their quality. We will keep her, and all of them, blissfully ignorant.”

Ghigno chuckled, looking pointedly at Bomba. “Just like him, eh?”

The pirate shook his head. “Blissful ignorance is a condition even sensible people can feel. But Bomba is stupid, he was born a fool. Right?”

The big man shuffled uncomfortably, muttering, “It is as you say, master.”

It was mid-noon. La Lindi sat watching the stables as she anointed her python’s scales with a mixture of sweet oil and warm water. “How long is that boy going to take?”

Mummo spotted Ben and Ned emerging from the rear of the stables. “Here they come now!”

The pair paced up with majestic slowness. Ben bowed to the company, and announced in a theatrical tone, “Eminent people, exalted guests, pray give attention to Benno, Master of Mystery, and the Magnificent Neddo!”

The good-natured group applauded encouragingly.