Voyage of Slaves

Janos watched her women hitching Poppea to the troupe cart and sending her inside with the others. “No, no, Ben, I must be on my way now. I will carry on to Trieste. There’s a cheese and olive oil merchant there, he’ll load up my two wagons for the return trip. I’ll pick my other wagons up at the Grey Swan on the road back.”

The boy endured the smuggler’s vise-like grip as he shook hands with her. “Janos Cabar, it has been a pleasure knowing you. Thanks for all your good help, and a safe journey to you!”

The Istrani Wolves were ready and waiting. Janos sprang up on her big black stallion, cracking the bullwhip.

As they pounded off down the trail, Ben could not resist cupping both hands around his mouth and giving voice to the wolf call. “Howoooooyaaaaah!”

Janos, Magda, Katya and the rest bayed back at him. “Howoooooyaaaaah!” Then they were gone into the gold-tinged mists of the summer morning.

The ancient Sister who locked the gate after she had admitted Ben crossed herself, staring suspiciously at him. “Howling like a wild beast, I still think you’re some kind of rogue or bandit!”

Inside, the convent building was beautiful in its simplicity. Whitewashed walls, plain wood and woven rush matting bore witness to the nuns’ modest way of life. Mother Carmella showed Ben to the refectory, where the troupe were seated for breakfast. She sat down beside him.

“First you must eat, we can talk later.”

Ben looked around for his dog, sending out a message. “Ned, where are you? It’s not like you to miss breakfast, mate!”

The black Labrador and another dog padded into the room. Both were carrying huge beef marrowbones. Ben was startled by the size of Ned’s companion. He was absolutely huge, with a massive square head and a long, scraggly coat of black and grey.

Ned did a doggy chuckle. “Meet Sansone, the guardian of Santa Filomena. No need to worry about him, mate, he’s soft as an old feather bed until the Sisters give him the order to attack. This fellow’s living the life of a king here— imagine getting bones like this whenever you want ’em!”

They wandered over, and Ben patted Sansone’s head. The big dog was definitely a softie.

Sliced ham, cheese, fresh bread, fruit and a variety of drinks soon appeared. Everybody bowed their heads in silence as Mother Carmella recited a Latin grace. Then they fell to. Mamma Rizzoli had far more to say than Ben; after the meal she talked animatedly with the Mother Superior about what had happened to them. Both ladies seemed to have hit it off so well together that Ben took the chance to steal off with Serafina.

Ned looked up from his bone, commenting to Sansone, “I’ve warned him, but he doesn’t listen to me. Huh, humans, think they know better than us!”

There was an upstairs verandah at the rear of the convent, which had a wonderful view of the Adriatic Sea and the Gulf of Venice, now that the morning mist had cleared. Ben leaned on the verandah rail, looking out over the water. Serafina stood at his side, watching his face.

“You seem to know the sea well, Ben. I’d never set eyes on it before Lindi and I joined up with the troupe.”

The boy turned to face her. “And do you like it?”

Serafina shrugged. “I don’t know yet. It reminds me of something in your eyes, so cloudy and far off, mystic almost. What do you think?”

Ben turned back to the view. He wanted to tell her everything about his strange life. From that night in Copenhagen,over eighty years ago, when he fell in the harbour and was swept out to sea in the wake of the Flying Dutchman, clinging to a rope. Of the times he and Ned had shared on the world’s great oceans. He wanted to tell of the curse the Lord had cast upon Captain Vanderdecken and his ship, condemned to wander the seas for eternity. Both he and his dog were the only ones spared, by an angel, from sharing that voyage.³⁶ Thoughts and yearnings flooded his mind, yearnings he dared not contemplate. Would she believe it? No sensible person would, it was all too fantastic.

Serafina tugged at his sleeve. “Have you gone to sleep, or are you going to answer me? What do you think of the sea, Ben?”

He spoke slowly, choosing his words as he avoided her luminous dark eyes. “I am bound to the sea, in one way or another. Sometimes I love it, yet other times I hate it.” He heaved a sigh. “Serafina, there is something I must tell you. Something that might hurt you.”

Alarm showed on the girl’s beautiful face. “You could never hurt me, Ben. What is it, what’s wrong?”

He lowered his head to the rail, letting his forehead rest there. “I cannot stay with you. Ned and I have to move on. It might happen today, or even tomorrow, but it is my fate—I will have to leave you!”

Tears sprang unbidden to the girl’s eyes. “But why?” Ben felt a leaden ache in his chest. “I cannot tell you that. Just believe what I say. Go on with your life, you have friends who love you. Go with the troupe, try to forget you ever met me.”