Voyage of Slaves

Ned opened one eye as he transmitted a thought. “Huh, I’ll bet my tail that his name began with a B!”

13

THE FOLLOWING MORNING BEN SAW Bomba come up on deck. He watched surprise regster on the slave driver’s face as he saw his intended victim still alive. The big man looked for a moment as if he was going to kill Ben on the spot, personally. Bomba turned, going back into the stern accommodation.

Gradually the ship came alive, with crewmen going about their duties. The troupe joined Ben and Ned on the fo’c’sle deck. Otto began his daily exercise routine, remarking to Mummo, “So, you are no longer sick, Herr Mummo?”

The clown feigned astonishment. “What gave you the idea I was sick, Otto? I only came out on deck to escape the odour of your fiendish moustache lotion.”

Signore Rizzoli raised an eyebrow. “Have you breakfasted yet?”

Ben came to Mummo’s defence. “No, he hasn’t, but he’s ready for it, just like me and Ned, aren’t you, Mummo? Come on, let’s see what the cook is serving in the galley. The rest of you stay put, we’ll get breakfast for you today.”

Ned stayed with the troupe, placing his chin in Serafina’s lap as Ben and Mummo hastened off.

“Aye, there’s a good pair of fellows, go and fetch us beautiful ones some food. Step lively now, we’re hungry!”

Ben’s parting reply flashed through his mind. “Beautiful ones indeed, you great lolloping hound!”

The dog was about to reply when Serafina patted him.

“Come on, Ned, let’s go and pay Poppea a visit!”

A fragrant aroma of roasting meat and spices emanated from the galley. Mummo joined the line of men in the alleyway waiting to be served. Ben chose to stay outside. He went to a canvas spread upon a hatch cover, where a steward was serving drinks and fruit. The boy selected a few oranges, a large melon and a pitcher of sherbet. Intentionally, Ben positioned himself behind Bomba and Ghigno, eavesdropping on their conversation. The Corsair was being rather curt with the slave driver.

“Why were you questioning my steersman about Abrit, eh?”

Bomba tried to keep his reply casual. “Oh, no reason, it’s just that I haven’t seen him around this morning.”

Ghigno was not satisfied with this answer. “Abrit isn’t your servant. The crew of this ship are under my command, not yours. So, what did you want with him?”

Bomba blustered under the scar-faced one’s interrogation. “Er, er, Abrit owed me some money.”

Ghigno treated him to a withering look. “What money, how much, tell me.”

The big man looked at the sky, as though he were trying to recall the sum. “Er, it was three gold pieces, I think.”

Ghigno obviously enjoyed goading Bomba, he continued sneeringly. “Three gold pieces you think? Hah, when was the last time you owned three gold pieces—in fact, when did you ever loan anything to anyone, son of a motherless thief? Go on about your business and leave my crew alone, or I’ll lend you half the blade of my sword in your fat gut, you spawn of a camel tick!”

Catching Ben’s smothered guffaw, Ghigno turned on him. “Have you nothing better to do than spy on men talking? Get out of my sight, infidel brother of a black dog!”

Ben joined Serafina and Ned on the forepeak, sitting out above the bow wave. The food was good, spiced roast lamb with rice and fruit. He watched the beautiful black girl as she ate and chatted.

“They don’t let you roam about this ship as you like. Do you know, we were hemmed in, Ned and I, by four guards when we went to see Poppea. They wouldn’t answer any questions or let us put a step out of place. It’s as if they’re hiding something from us.”

Ben did not want to upset the girl by talking about Al Misurata’s business. He tossed melon rind into the sea. “So, how is Poppea? Well, I hope?”

Serafina showed her flawless white teeth smilingly. “Oh, she’s living the life of a queen, with lovely food, and four fine Arab horses for company!”

Ben ignored Ned’s paw, which was prodding his back. “That’s good, I’m glad she’s happy.”

Now the black Labrador’s message entered his mind, accompanied by more paw prods. “Ship ahoy, mate, off the starboard bow, headed this way!”

Ben grasped a line and stood up on the bowsprit, his blue-grey eyes watching the approaching vessel as he exchanged thoughts with Ned. “She’s a big ship, flying the Spanish flag, I think.”

The Labrador jumped up beside him. “Dog’s eyes are the best, let me take a look. Hah, I see officers standing on the bridge, and those sailors in the rigging, they’re dressed in uniform issue. Y’know, if I’m right, that’s a naval craft. What d’you think, mate?”

Ben felt hope surging through him. “Marvellous, Ned! It looks like she’s going to lay alongside of us. At last! If I can get to the captain, or an officer, I’ll expose Al Misurata as a slaver. This could be the saving of us and the troupe. Come on, let’s go down to the midship deck!”

He turned to Serafina. “Excuse me, I have to attend to something!”

The pair hurried off, leaving behind them a slightly perplexed girl.