Voyage of Slaves

As the morning went on, the situation did not alter. Though the crew of the White Ram were vigilant and ready for action, Al Misurata stood with his men on the shoreline, making no attempt to do anything.

The sun was at its zenith when Ben spied the boat. It was a small ship’s boat from the Sea Djinn, containing two rowers and two armed guards, already around the point and heading toward the men on the beach. Ben poked his head out on deck, calling to Ezekiel, who was standing nearby.

“Off the port side, see, they’re bringing a boat!”

The seaman winked at him. “We’ve already spotted it, mate. Back inside and stay out of the way.”

The small boat pulled into shore. Al Misurata boarded it, ordering the oarsmen to head for the White Ram. Eli stood on the stern gallery, watching. When he judged it was within hailing distance, the old man held up his arm and called out abruptly.

“That is far enough, you will come no further. State your business!”

Al Misurata rose, bowing courteously, touching fingertips to his heart, lips and forehead. “I bid you good day, sir. Are you the commander of this wondrous vessel?”

The patriarch folded his arms. “I am the captain and owner. Who are you?”

The pirate smiled disarmingly. “An honest shipowner like yourself, sir. I sail out of Libya, trading in horses.”

Eli raised his bushy brows. “But you have not come to sell me a horse.”

Al Misurata laughed, as though he appreciated the joke. “Alas, no, sir. I am making enquiries about a boy, a thief and a liar, who deserted his position as my servant. He will have a black dog with him, which belongs to me.”

Eli Bar Shimon cut him short. “There are no thieves, liars or dogs aboard my ship. I suggest you search elsewhere, now go!”

The pirate’s face grew hard, his voice became harsh and imperious. “Then I will search your ship. The boy and the dog were seen boarding this vessel, it was reported to me!”

Eli calmly laid a shaft upon his bowstring. He pointed the lethal ram’s-horn bow at Al Misurata. “Then whoever reported it is a liar. Begone, slaver, carrion such as you are not welcome aboard this ship!”

Al Misurata smiled thinly. “We will see about that.” He dropped his right hand to his side. One of the armed guards in the boat brought up his rifle quickly. Not quickly enough, though—Eli’s arrow pierced his shoulder and he fell back screaming. The pirate was taken aback by the speed of the old man, who already had another shaft laid on his bowstring. At the same moment a shot rang out from the shore. The ball tore a chunk from the rail close to Eli, who called up to the rigging.

“Zachary, mark him!”

At the topmast spar, a lithe young man shouted back, “Aye, Lord, he’s marked!” Taking rapid aim with a long, silver-inlaid jezzail, he fired. As the crack of the gun split the air, a guard on shore dropped his weapon and crumpled to the sand.

Zachary lowered his weapon, bellowing, “Ship under sail, off port amidships!”

The Sea Djinn, with her foremast repaired, was in plain view, racing toward the White Ram.

Abram came hurrying to the old man’s side. “She’s either trying to cut us off or ram us!”

Eli put aside his bow as he scanned the big ship. “We can’t fight off a monster like that. Set a course to starboard, slip the anchor cable, and lay on all sail, then await my orders!”

Ghigno put the spyglass to his eye, yelling out commands as he did. “Helmsman, take us out a point and come in on the curve. We’ll catch her on the far side of the bay and ram her into the rocks on the coast. Stand by ready to board—look sharp now, I think she’s slipped anchor!”

On board the White Ram the crew were working frantically.A brawny deckhand severed the thick anchor rope with half a dozen blows from a broad-headed axe. Men scrambled nimbly through the rigging loosing sail, whilst some on deck hoisted extra canvas. Abram leaned on the big brass-and-mahogany wheel, bringing the vessel onto a starboard tack. Eli stood at his side, judging their perilous situation.

“We need to catch the wind and clear the bay, before they get a chance to smash us against the rocks on the point. That big ship looks to me like she’s set on a collision course!”

The White Ram began pulling away sluggishly; she was having difficulty catching the wind. Eli looked over the stern, to where they had moved about a cable length away from the small boat. He could see Al Misurata sitting with his arms folded, smiling triumphantly as he watched the huge Sea Djinn closing on the White Ram. The old man took the wheel from Abram, holding their course as he whispered instructions to him.

Ben heard the footsteps pounding by the cabin door. Swinging the door open, he saw Abram leaping down a flight of stairs. Joshua pushed past Ben into the alleyway, shouting, “Ben, Ned, come on!” All three dashed into the lower hold. Abram was crouched beside an older man, who was manning one of the brass cannons. Joshua joined them, shaking with excitement.