Immortal At Sea (The Immortal Chronicles Book 1) (3 page)

This idea had a drawback to it, which was that if they reached that point and did
not
turn around, we would be the only source of food in their vicinity, and they would literally have no option but to run us down or starve.  We might well outrace them to that point-of-no-return, but we couldn’t compel them to actually turn around.

If it worked, we could turn north and then back east and return to Spain with our ship and our lives and no spices.

Unsurprisingly, when I informed Juan Pedro he expressed active hatred for this plan.  “I say we let them catch up to us!” he said.  “Surely they will see that we pursue greater riches.  They may even join!”

“Juan Pedro, do you trust my advice?” I asked him.

“Of course, Giovanni.”

“Trust your captain to make the best decision for his ship, and for you.”

“But I hired the captain!”

“You did, as you also hired me.  And I am advising you not to try and counter his command.  It will fail, and since we are looking to throw things overboard to lighten our load, the louder you protest the more you look like unnecessary ballast.”

We did throw a few things overboard, but thankfully not the wine.  Any beverage that wasn’t salt water was welcome aboard a long sea voyage, and our survival of this long aquatic siege might hinge upon potable drink.  I did, however, curtail my impulse to start drinking all of it.

It wasn’t actually all that long, as sieges go.  It felt much longer, because we could see the pirates constantly, and if one stared at their ship for long enough it was easy to become fooled into thinking they had slowed, or stopped, or were turning.  But we didn’t get close to that point where they would have been forced to turn around.  They reached hailing distance on the third day after our decision to turn east.  It happened when the ships were both slowed due to a failing wind, but unlike our vessel, the pirates had open oarlocks, and oars, and people to use them.  So for the final few hours we got to hear their drum pounding louder and louder, until it was silenced.

“Hello, gold vessel,” shouted a man—in Spanish—from halfway up the rigging of the pirate ship.  “You can stop running now
.
”

The man was squat and portly, brown-skinned, tattooed and scarred.  When he spoke Spanish it was with a Moroccan accent. 

“Let me talk to him,” Juan Pedro asked.

“Be quiet,” I said.

Captain Grillo faced the pirate ship and spoke to no one in particular.  “This ship is the sovereign property of Spain!  Keep your distance!”

The man on the rigging laughed heartily at this.  None of the other men on his ship did, which either meant they were in a much more foul mood than their spokesperson’s demeanor suggested, or none of them spoke Spanish.

“Captain Grillo,” I said.  “Do you speak Arabic?”

“No.”

“Then may I?”

He looked surprised, but acquiesced.  I stepped up next to him.

“
Allahu Akbar
,” I greeted.

“
Allahu Akbar!
” the man answered.  He continued in Arabic.  “
You are Muslim?
”

“
I am when it suits me.
”

This elicited more laughter.  “
I thank you for your honesty, sir,”
he said.

“
Are you captain?
”

“
I am.  Whose ship is this?”

“No man of great import.”

“What is he saying?” Grillo asked.

“He wants to know whose ship it is.”

Juan Pedro jumped up.  “He wishes to speak to the lord of this vessel?  I will talk with him!”

“Let me speak for you my lord,” I said.  “This is why I’m here.”

“Is that he?”
The pirate captain asked.

“It is.  I fear he is an idiot.”

“We would have run you down sooner, sir, but for the sheer insanity of a gilded vessel on a pirated sea.  My first still expects the navy to appear, as surely this must be a trap.”

“It is no trap,”
I said. 
“Alas, I am beholden to a patron who thinks it wise to cover his ship in precious metals and hire the one captain in Spain who doesn’t anticipate pirates.  My patron would make for an excellent ransom, and serves no other purpose in this world.  The rest of the crew is likely worth nothing except as slaves.”

“What is he
saying?
” Juan Pedro asked.

“I’m negotiating your surrender.”

“
My
surrender?  I will fight these dogs to the death!”

“I will let him know your feelings on this,” I told him.  To the pirate captain I said,
“forgive me, he appears to have already forgotten you speak Spanish.”

“He sounds stupid enough to be worth a great ransom indeed.  A man such as yourself no doubt fetches a good coin as well.”

“This is unfortunately not the case, captain.  I have no family with holdings, only what I myself possess.  I have no real desire to be sold into slavery either, as I have been a slave in the past and do not relish the experience.”

He looked confused. 
“This is an odd negotiation, sir.  Name your terms.”

“Terms?  We have nothing to negotiate with.  Drown them all if you like.  If you drown him…”
I pointed to Juan Pedro, who probably thought I was saying something flattering. 
“…you might even have a pleasant voyage back to Algiers, as he is completely insufferable.  No, I speak to you now because I would rather be a pirate, thank you.”

About half of the pirate crew laughed aloud at this.  Notably, the captain didn’t.

“Why would I trust such a man as you on my crew when you spare so little loyalty for your own?”
he asked.

“Apologies, captain, but trustworthiness does not strike me as a highly valued attribute for a pirate.  But very well.  There is treasure hid aboard this ship that is worth as much as the ship itself.  I know where to find it without first tearing it apart stem-to-stern.”

“Again, you have given me no reason to trust you.”

“You have naught to lose.  Let me cross peaceably and I’ll tell you where it is, and then we can discuss whether to value me as more than a head to sell to a slaver.”

“Have your crew lash the boats, and you will be the first across.  Then we will see.”

I turned to Captain Grillo.  “The boat is going to be taken, but I am still negotiating.  I may be able to spare you all, but you will have to do what I say.  Assist them in lashing the boats together.”

“We can fight them off once they come close,” Grillo said.  He looked much more eager to die in a battle than as a slave, and I didn’t much blame him.

“If it comes to that, yes.”  In truth, I had no plan and nothing with which to negotiate for his or the crew’s lives.  If they chose to perish fighting for their golden ship I was in no position to stop them.  But my own position was marginally better.

“Juan Pedro, I need you to do something for me right now,” I said.

“What is it, Giovanni?”

“The wood bunk on which I sleep has a loose board.  I need for you to pry open that board and place your purse beneath it.  When you are done, repair the board as well and as fast as you can.  Do you understand?”

“I’m afraid I do not.”

“They need to be sure that there’s more value in your ransom than in your death.  If they find themselves sufficiently enriched by your purse and the gilding, you will not survive the afternoon, I promise.”  It was a pretty good lie.

“Yes of course,” he said.  “You feel I am to be ransomed?”

“It’s an honorable outcome for you, my lord.  If you die today who will tell the world of your bravery?  In ransom, you can tell them yourself.”

He clapped me on the shoulder.  “You are a good advisor, Giovanni.”

“I thank you.  Oh, and one more thing.  I will need your sword.”

Even lashed together there was still a gap between the ships wide enough for a man to fall through, so a plank was laid for me.  Happily nobody from either side took the opportunity afforded them by proximity to begin fighting with one another.  I was counting on the pirates preferring diplomacy to bloodshed, with the risk of violence coming from the Spanish side.  If this seems illogical, keep in mind the pirates make money off each man they sell into slavery, while many men would rather die than end up a slave.  If I felt like negotiating a peaceful arrangement, the people in need of convincing were on the boat I was leaving, not the pirate ship.

I wasn’t bluffing about becoming a pirate, by the way.  I had never really thought about becoming one prior to this, but it didn’t strike me as the most terrible profession imaginable, and I’d done plenty of things in my life that were worse than what I might find myself doing on a pirate ship.  It was well within my skillset.

I didn’t end up becoming one, but I might have had things broken differently.

This was not the first time I’d been aboard a vessel taken by pirates, but the last time had been on a Greek ship in the Mediterranean, and the total number of pirates had been less than ten, none of which proved to be very good swimmers.  This was a larger ship, with a lot more pirates.  About half the crew I saw moved freely—there were many men chained to oars, which was the likely fate of most of the Spanish sailors—and the number of those free men approached thirty.  It was unlikely I could out-fight every one of them.  Maybe half that number, if I was very lucky.

I’m really not bragging.  You have to understand that in order to have lived for as long as this without any special invincibility or anything—I can’t get sick, but that’s about all—I had to learn how to fight, and I had to be very good at it.  Basically, in hand-to-hand combat or anything involving a blade I’m in pretty good shape.

I also had a pretty good blade.  The sword I borrowed from Juan Pedro was the finest piece of steel I’d ever seen.  He didn’t even understand how rare it was, and had never—so far as I knew—used it in actual combat.  I wasn’t sure yet whether I’d brought the sword with me to buy my way onto the pirate crew or to fight my way through it.  Possibly I was just looking for an excuse to hold it for a while before I died.

From the starboard side I was led—by what had to be the two largest men aboard— to a table on the foredeck, where the captain sat waiting for me.

“Please,” he said, in Spanish.  “Have a seat, my learned friend.  We speak your tongue now.  None of these men know it.”

“
I have many tongues,”
I said, in Italian, as I sat.  “But Spanish is fine.”

He raised an eyebrow at me.  “You are quite a mystery: a scholar who wishes to be a pirate.  Do you know how to use that sword?”

“I do.”

“That’s good.  When I fight you for it I want to feel as if I’ve earned the right to wield such a fine blade.  How did you acquire it?”

“I told the fool on the other boat I had need of it, and he believed me.  You’re Moroccan?”

“Yes. I am Yassine.  You are Giovanni, I have heard them say.  You are Italian?  And yet claim to be an occasional Muslim.  And fluent in many tongues.  And by your claim, you are good with a sword.  I admit you would be a fine asset to the pirate trade.  It’s a shame, I really have no option but to kill you.”

“I agree, that is a great shame.  Even if I tell you where there’s gold hidden aboard the other ship?”

“Even then, yes.  We’ll take the ship, sail it to port, and tear it apart.  We
would
take the men and the goods and just sink it but for the conspicuous riches nailed to the hull.  We have little use for it otherwise.”

“You could resell it.”

“Would you buy a ship knowing it wasn’t fast enough to outrun the pirate selling it to you?  No, sailors are too superstitious.  The problem, Giovanni, is if I let you aboard as a fellow, there will be a mutiny, especially after the entire crew heard you ask.  The only reason we’re speaking peacefully right now is to keep those Spaniards from developing a sense of purpose.  So long as you live and they think you’re negotiating for them in good faith, they’ll stay their hand.”

“Then we seem to have an impasse.”

“Not really.  I can kill everyone on your ship or you can contrive of a way to keep them alive for long enough to be subdued.  You I will have to kill in either case, but I can give you a brave death for your troubles.”

“That’s very charitable.”

“I’m as reasonable as events allow.”

“If your only reason for speaking to me is to get me to help you take the Spanish peacefully, I’m afraid I have to disappoint you, Yassine.” 

The two men who had escorted me were standing at a distance from the table.  If I stood at that moment and drew Juan Pedro’s Damascus steel, the only person I would confront would be the captain, and my sense was this was intentional on his part, because he felt confident he could take me.

If we began to fight, however, I expected this would be a signal to the rest of the pirate crew that it was time to take the Spanish boat by force, and while this would leave me with fewer men to fight, it would complicate the entire affair significantly.