Voyage of Slaves

Mamma nodded her agreement. “At least the ship got away unharmed, so we know Ben and Ned are safe.”

Serafina questioned Mamma anxiously. “You think Ben and Ned are aboard that ship?”

Signore Rizzoli smiled reassuringly. “For sure, ragazza, why else would Misurata bother with it? The capitano of that ship is a very brave man, to face the slaver and his men down, and escape as he did.”

Mummo chuckled. “I’d like to be a fly on the wall of that pirate’s cabin right now. He didn’t look in the least pleased when they hauled him aboard dripping wet!”

The clown was right in his assumption—Al Misurata was in a furious mood. Clad only in a silken wrap, he paced the cabin in a rage, venting his spleen on Bomba and Ghigno.

“Why did you not fire upon them before they had a chance to sink my boat? Must I forever be surrounded by fools and halfwits?”

Bomba kept silent, knowing it was the best course in the present situation. The pirate ignored him, staring fixedly at Ghigno, demanding an answer. “Why?”

The scar-faced Corsair tried to sound reasonable. “But Lord, we thought only of your safety. You were between them and us, we could not risk cannon fire!”

Al Misurata knew Ghigno spoke the truth, but he was not prepared to accept any explanation in his irate mood. “Hah, or you’re not a good enough shot! Did you send word to my agent, the one who keeps messenger birds?”

Ghigno nodded vigorously. “With all speed, Lord, I sent my best man. Your message is on its way.”

Al Misurata poured wine, but only for himself. The irony in his voice was not lost on Ghigno. “Oh good! Let’s hope that cousin of yours, Padre Marlanese, can read. Right, set a course for Passero, there’s too much time been wasted idling in these waters!”

It was Ghigno and Bomba’s turn to take their wrath out on the crew, which they did with malicious pleasure. Shortly thereafter, the Sea Djinn was heeling around the point of Gozo Island, bow on for Cape Passero on the southern tip of Sicily.

When they were out in open water, the Rizzoli Troupe were allowed on deck to take the air and stretch their legs. La Lindi immediately set about charming one of the more gullible deckhands. With the information she had elicited from him, she joined the others on the fo’c’sle.

“We’re sailing to Sicily, after the ship Ben’s on.”

Augusto Rizzoli was much cheered by the news. “Eh, bella Sicilia! It’s only a short hop from there to Italy. If we dock there I think we should try to jump ship at the first opportunity, my friends.”

Mamma shook her head. “All nine of us, including Mwaga and Poppea? What chance would we stand?”

Her husband shrugged. “Any chance would be a good chance, my love. We’ve got to start helping ourselves. We cannot rely on the boy and his dog forever.”

Otto nodded. “Ja, you are right, mein Herr. I wonder where they have stowed our wagon?”

Buffo nodded toward the midship hold. “Down there, but it would be impossible to take it with us if we had to run for it.”

The German strongman lowered his voice. “It is not the wagon I am thinking of, but the gun hidden underneath it. If they have not already found it, that gun will come in handy.”

Mummo objected. “Hah, that gun is an ancient wreck. It must be bunged up with sand and dust from travelling under the wagon. A gun like that would be more dangerous to the one using it than to anyone he was firing at!”

Serafina joined in the conversation. “But nobody knows that except us. I think Otto is right, the very threat of a gun gives us an advantage—it would come in handy during an escape.”

Mamma held up her hands. “Keep your voices down, please. Maybe the gun is a good idea, but will they let us into the hold to get it? I don’t think so.”

La Lindi spoke up. “I have an idea. Otto, where exactly is the gun?”

“Just under the platform by the back door of the wagon. It hangs upon two hooks. There is also a little bag with it, containing powder, flint and musket balls. How do you plan on reaching it, Frau Lindi?”

The snake charmer looked to the large basket in which her python was coiled. “If Mwaga got loose and slithered down into the hold, I don’t think any crewman would be willing to go after him. But I would.”

Serafina was beginning to see the possibilities of her friend’s scheme. “Of course! You are the only one who could handle Mwaga. Let’s go down onto the hatch covers and pretend we’re rehearsing our act. Everybody will be doing something, it will create a diversion.”

Otto beamed at his beautiful young friend. “Sehr gut, Mädchen!²⁹ Let us get our equipment, ja!”