Ocean Without End (8 page)

Miller's voice echoed through the ship. ‘All hands on deck!'

The men scrambled to get out of their hammocks to start the day. It had been a rotten night of lashing gales and a nasty swell, even in our protected inlet, and we'd had little sleep. I made my way to the galley and was struggling to get the fire started, cursing the damp kindling and useless flint, when Miller called out for me.

‘You're wanted on deck!'

‘Send Carlo down with some more wood,' I hollered. ‘I'll be there in a moment.'

‘Now!' Miller shouted. ‘We've got company.'

‘Hell's bum,' I muttered. ‘What's the rush?'

There was no spark at all, so I gave up, threw the flint down, stuck the dagger in my belt and went to see what all the noise was about. The sky above was still dense with grey cloud, but there was a strange yellow glare. I didn't like the look of it.

As my hands reached the top rung, I could sense something was wrong. I poked my head out of the hatch.

‘Good morning, Lily.'

The voice came from somewhere behind me.

I spun around on the ladder. Hussein Reis, in his blue robes, stood with one hand on Jem's shoulder and one fist around the grip of his scimitar.

‘Please join us.'

He motioned to me with his sword. I clambered up and onto the deck.

He was not alone. His crew stood in a circle around Jem and the boys. There were no weapons drawn, besides the scimitar in Hussein's hand, but the air was bright with anger and distrust. You could almost see it.

I took a few steps towards Hussein. His eyes were so blue they seemed almost clear, like the water in a rock pool.

‘We have met before, I'm sure you recall.'

I nodded. My hand was on my dagger.

‘Then perhaps you'd care to explain what you are all doing here. Without Diablo. On this very pretty little ship. None of the men feel the need to tell me.'

Jem's face had no expression. I couldn't tell what he wanted me to do. Miller was staring at the water. Only Carlo seemed to be watching us, and he was no use. There was nothing for it but to follow my instincts.

‘It's a prize, sir. Diablo took her, a week or so ago, and sent us on to Valletta to sell her off.'

‘A prize?' Hussein raised one eyebrow.

‘Yes, sir.'

‘But it seems such a small reward.' He gazed around him at the
Mermaid
and up into her rigging. ‘It seems
strange that Diablo would chase a prize when, as you at least are aware, Lily, he had other plans.'

‘Just greedy, I expect, sir. There was another ship, too, but we sank her.'

‘I see.'

He released his grip on Jem's shoulder and stepped towards me.

‘Where is Diablo now?'

I tried to peek over his shoulder at Jem for guidance. He was glaring at the back of Hussein's head.

Perhaps Diablo had double-crossed Hussein. One word from me might set the
taridha
after him, chasing him across the Mediterranean and away from Santa Lucia forever.

‘He's headed for Algiers.'

‘What?' Hussein grabbed my shoulder, his fingers digging into my arms.

‘He said he had business there that couldn't wait.'

‘What sort of business?'

‘I don't know, sir. He didn't say.'

Hussein whirled around.

‘You there! Master McGuire. What did he tell you?'

‘Nothing, sir,' Jem said sullenly. ‘Diablo don't tell me his plans, nor any of us.'

Hussein strode to the starboard rails and stared thoughtfully at his own ship. ‘Bring the girl to my cabin.'

Jem stepped forward. ‘Sir, she's done nothing wrong.'

But Hussein was already leaping across to his ship.
‘I wouldn't argue, if I were you, Master McGuire. Your captain ordered you into Valletta, and yet I find you here, leagues away, clearly with no intention of carrying out his orders. I should have you flogged.'

‘We're just riding out the storm, sir,' said Miller.

‘Explain that to Diablo!' Hussein bellowed. ‘Now bring me the girl.'

Rough hands grabbed me and bundled me over the side. I was half-dragged, half-pushed across the
taridha
and into a cabin lit by candles and oil lamps. All over the floor were rich red carpets, and in the corner, waiting impatiently, stood Hussein Reis. He had flung his sword onto the bed. That, at least, made me feel a little easier. I still had my dagger. If it came to a fight, I would attack like a fury.

But he hardly seemed to know I was there. He paced back and forth from the window to the low bed. His hands were behind his back, his fingers tapping together. His bare feet sounded like drum beats on the carpets. At last he turned to me.

‘Tell me everything you saw, Lily. It's important.'

Why should I tell you anything? I thought, sullen as Jem had been on deck. As always, Hussein seemed to know my thoughts.

‘I know you don't want to talk to me,' he sighed. ‘Why should you? But let's pretend I am the lesser of two fairly vile evils.'

I snorted, and he smiled faintly.

‘So.' He looked at me expectantly. ‘Let's talk about what I know and what you know. We both know that Diablo had decided to sail to Isola di Bravo, and you had agreed, obviously under duress, to take him into
the Golden Grotto. What I need to know is why he changed his mind. Do you have any idea, Lily?'

I shook my head. It had been so long since anyone had called me by my real name, it seemed strange, and somehow comforting, to hear the word. Lily. I wanted him to say it again.

‘Think about it. Did he change his mind before he decided to chase the
Mermaid
, or afterwards?'

I did think about it. It was a very interesting question. What on earth was Diablo doing?

‘It was afterwards, I think,' I said, tentatively. ‘He set course for Isola di Bravo, sure enough. Then they sighted the sails and he took off after them.'

Hussein waited, silently. I thought it through some more.

‘He sent off more men than he needed in the prize crew, kept only the Egyptians and the Frenchmen,' I said. ‘We thought he had sailed west to meet you and raid the Spanish shipping lanes.'

‘No, there was no such plan.'

‘I don't know then. I'm sorry.'

‘Please, sit,' he said, ‘I have been inhospitable. My apologies. I'm as bad as Diablo, perish the thought.'

He waved me to a cushion beside a low table.

‘You must have coffee. I imagine you've never tasted coffee such as we serve.'

He called to someone outside, in a language I didn't know. A boy brought tiny cups of thick brown coffee and a dish of sweetmeats.

‘Please, help yourself.'

On the table was a bowl of emerald glass, filled with dates and pomegranates.

‘I was thinking …' I began. ‘Well, we've been trying to work out where he's gone. Diablo, I mean. None of us know, I can promise you that. Not Jem, not anybody.'

‘I take your word for it, Lily.'

‘So there must have been something about the ships, or something on the ships, that made him change course.'

‘Such as?'

I took a sip of the coffee. It was like syrup.

‘French soldiers.'

Hussein sat up. ‘Armed?'

‘Yes,' I nodded. ‘We fought them. Diablo took the rest with him as prisoners.'

‘Officers?'

‘All dead. The captain shot himself, and Diablo killed the others with his bare hands.'

He grasped my arm to draw me closer. ‘Did he take their papers?'

I struggled free of his grip.

‘I don't know. I suppose so.'

There was silence for a moment.

‘Did you see their charts?'

‘Why, yes. We still have them. I've been studying them for days.'

‘Good. There may be some clue there.'

‘I don't know. They are nothing unusual.'

He jumped to his feet and started pacing again.

‘Sir?'

‘What is it, child?'

‘We did wonder what the Frenchmen were doing on an Alexandrian convoy.'

‘Indeed,' said Hussein. ‘I wonder the same thing.'

‘Either it hadn't really sailed from Egypt at all, or …'

‘Yes?'

‘They were on the way back to Egypt, or somewhere thereabouts. Maybe they saw us before we saw them. They might have changed course to trick us.'

He stopped his pacing, and slapped his hands against his legs. ‘Well, there's nothing to be done now.'

His tone was lighter. I breathed a little easier.

‘Please, Lily. Take a pomegranate.'

‘Thank you, sir. I've never really had one.'

‘Have you not? How strange.'

‘I've seen them, though,' I added, in case he thought I was stupid. I held the pomegranate tight in both hands.

He smiled at me.

‘So tell me, did you fight the Frenchmen yourself, with that little dagger?'

‘Oh, no, sir,' I said, laughing, ‘of course not.'

‘I thought not.'

‘It was a short-sword,' I said.

His smile vanished, and his eyes widened. ‘I beg your pardon?'

‘I didn't mean to be in the fighting, sir. It just happened.'

‘Good God, girl, what do you mean? You fought a grown man? With a sword?'

‘Don't worry, I won.'

It was my turn to smile, as he stared at me, astonished, then threw his head back and let out a loud peal of laughter.

‘Ah dear,' he said eventually, ‘I think old Diablo is safer wherever on earth he's gone.'

He clapped his hands, and the boy reappeared in the doorway. ‘Call Jem McGuire.'

A few minutes later, after I'd scoffed the last of the sweets, Jem shuffled in, reluctantly.

‘There you are, Master McGuire. Please sit down.'

‘I'll stand, if you don't mind,' said Jem.

‘As you please,' said Hussein. ‘Let us get straight to the business at hand. You and your crew, I believe, are headed for Valletta?'

Jem nodded.

‘I have a small commission I need you to undertake before you do so. Needless to say, I will pay you.'

‘I don't know, sir. Diablo sent us —'

‘I don't think he'd mind you doing me this little favour, as in fact he had agreed to do it himself, after your trip to Isola di Bravo. He is clearly unable to undertake the work himself, so you will have to step into his boots. You are still his crew, I take it?'

‘Yes, of course,' said Jem, blushing.

‘I thought as much.'

I wondered just how clearly Hussein could guess what we'd been planning. Did he know everything?

‘It's nothing much,' Hussein continued. ‘Simply something to be collected. We will speak of it later, in more detail. In the meantime, bring me the charts you found on the
Mermaid
. I will return them to you this afternoon, before I leave.'

‘But where are you going?' I spoke without thinking, but he didn't seem to mind.

‘I am sailing in search of your wayward captain.'

That evening, Jem returned from another meeting aboard the
taridha
with the bundle of charts and our orders from Hussein Reis. He called us together.

‘Mates, it looks like we won't be docking in Valletta tonight, after all.'

Miller was watching his friend's face, a smile playing on his lips.

‘First we return Carlo to the Old City,' said Jem, ‘and then we've planned a raid — nothing too flash — but Hussein says we've got to keep it quiet.'

‘Never thought I'd see the day when we'd take orders from a Turk,' muttered Brasher.

‘What's this raid for, anyhow?' asked Miller.

Jem shook his head. ‘I don't rightly know yet. I've got a letter, explaining it all, to be opened when we're close in.'

‘Let's see it,' said Miller.

‘Lot of good it'd do you, Milly.'

‘You can't read neither, Jem — don't know why you're sounding so smug.'

Carlo pushed his way to the front. ‘I shall read the letter!'

Jem tucked the paper inside his shirt. ‘That wouldn't do, son. You'll be home soon enough, and we can't have you telling your people any private pirate business.'

‘I would never tell,' Carlo said, defiantly.

‘Never mind that, now. You'll be safe at home by the time we get to open the letter.'

Jem's voice took on a new, decisive tone. ‘After we anchor, we'll have to work inland a fair way towards the boy's home, so we'll just take a small party. You two —' Francesco and Ricardo exchanged a wink at this ‘— and Milly. Me and Cyg.'

Miller looked shocked. ‘Hey, why do we have to take the kid?'

I almost agreed with him.

‘Hussein has some crazy idea that she can talk her way out of a sticky spot,' Jem said. ‘Can't argue with that. You never know, Milly, she might come in handy. For a start, she can read that damn letter to us.'

Miller groaned and Jem punched his shoulder. ‘Don't fret, mate. If we're lucky, she'll get lost in the dark.'

‘Hey!' I protested. They all sniggered.

‘Listen up,' Jem went on. ‘We'll have to head back the way we came to avoid the watchtowers, and around towards Moonlight Cove. No need to plot a course, Cyg — the Vella brothers know the coast well enough. Max and Moggia will stand watch on deck while we're ashore. We'll take the boy and
collect the ransom fee. Hussein is sending word to the family overland. Then we have another visit to pay and we're away.'

I tried to avoid Carlo's gaze. I would be sorry to see him go, and I knew that for all his talk he would miss being part of this crew.

‘That's all,' said Jem. ‘Weigh anchor!'

The others scrambled to haul the anchor up off the sand. Jem stopped me as I ran to join the men hauling on the halyards to make some sail.

‘There's another thing. I'm to look after you, Hussein says.'

‘I don't need looking after, Jem.'

At this he grinned. ‘Aye, that's what he says. But I'm to do it anyway.'

‘What's it to him?' I stared up at Jem's face, but there was no hint of what might have passed between the two men.

Jem shrugged. ‘No understanding some people, eh? He must think you're precious or something.'

I blinked, trying to reconcile this with the Hussein Reis of legend, the killer of innocents, with his mighty scimitar and pitiless crew.

‘I tried to tell him you were only shark bait,' Jem joked, ‘but he wouldn't listen. Now, off you go — the boys'll need a hand with the headsail.'

From up in the bow I peered over at the
taridha
as we moved out of the bay. Hussein Reis was nowhere to be seen. No doubt he was still pacing in his carpeted cabin or poring over charts, trying to guess where Diablo had gone. Good luck to you, I thought. Who in their right mind would go looking for Diablo?

It took the best part of a day to beat back along the coast against a stiff breeze, far enough out from the shore to avoid any watching eyes. Jem was sailing for a deserted bay where we could anchor unseen while the shore party carried out its plans.

‘The Knights have watchtowers all around the islands. It's best if they don't know we're here,' he told me. ‘We have one of Malta's favourite sons on board as a hostage, and no doubt they'd be happy to take him back by force rather than ransom. So we'll keep out of sight, do what we came here to do. We'll fly the flag of the Maltese Cross as an extra precaution. Then in a few days we can sail into Valletta and act innocent as lambs.'

If only it had been that simple.

We rowed into Moonlight Cove in the ship's launch just before midnight. Max had orders to leave the bay if he sighted any strange vessels; otherwise he'd wait there for two days and two nights. If we didn't return, he was to sail around the island to the harbour city in the hope of meeting us there.

All the men were nervous — once the
Mermaid
sailed into Valletta's Grand Harbour, it would be the end of our brief spell of freedom. The ship would be seized and sold off like any pirate prize, while the men would rot in harbour waiting for Diablo to return. Carlo would be home with his father, and I would find some way of getting home too. Not that the crew knew it, of course, although Jem must have had his suspicions.

So we all had a great deal riding on our secret mission for Hussein Reis.

The boat was unsteady, ploughing through the choppy water. I braced myself with one knee hard against the ribs of the boat. Behind me, an odd squeal was followed by an enormous splash.

‘Jesus wept,' Jem groaned. ‘He's fallen overboard again. Belay rowing!'

I spun around in my seat just in time to see two wet hands groping for the gunwales.

‘Drag him in, lads, and easy does it or we'll all end up in the drink,' said Jem.

The Vella brothers leaned over the side and chanted like schoolboys, ‘One, two, three!' On the last count, they hauled Carlo, gasping and splashing like the morning catch, back into the boat.

We hit the pebbly shore, and climbed out of the boat slowly and a little shakily. My legs were unsteady after all those weeks at sea. Carlo waved goodbye to the boat crew and stood watching them row back to the
Mermaid
until Miller gave him a shove.

‘C'mon, lad. We're expected at your father's house.' He kept up a flood of questions as the Vella brothers led the way up the cliff, along a narrow ledge, and across the grasslands.

‘Does your father have a night watch?'

‘There is usually a man on the door, but he is not armed,' Carlo said.

‘And the rest of your family, will they be at home?'

‘I don't know.' Carlo seemed more solemn with every stumbling step he took. ‘There's only my mother. My brother is grown up — he has his own
palazzo
in the countryside.'

‘I hope they're expecting us, or there'll be hell to pay,' said Miller. ‘Jem, how long would Hussein's messenger have taken?'

‘Don't worry. It's all been arranged. We take the boy to the house, collect the gold, and that's it. Back to the ship. Good night's sleep. Sail away on the morning breeze and get on with the rest of it.'

‘It's too simple,' said Miller. ‘Nothing can be that easy.'

He's right, I thought. Nothing is ever that easy. I joined Miller in his questioning.

‘Carlo, your house, is it fenced?'

‘There is a walled courtyard at the rear.'

‘But the front of the house?'

‘Just the door leading into the hallway.'

‘Aha!' said Miller. ‘A good place for a trap.'

‘How high is the rear wall?' I asked.

Carlo was getting impatient. ‘My father is a man of honour. If he has agreed to pay, he will pay.'

‘See?' said Jem. ‘All will be well.'

I had an uneasy sense of foreboding deep in my belly. Miller dropped back to walk along beside me.

‘Are you having the same fears as me?' he asked.

I nodded. ‘You're right. It's too simple. Why would any noble house pay such a huge amount to a pack of ruffians when they could have the boy and keep the gold? All they need to do is have a quiet word to the city sentries and we'd be trapped like crayfish.'

‘Aye.'

‘Carlo,' I called out, ‘have you ever climbed the courtyard wall?'

‘Of course, many times. It is the only way of
escaping my tutor and his boring Latin.'

Ricardo held up his hand for quiet. ‘Keep your voices down now. We skirt around a village, and the dogs will hear you yapping at each other.'

‘How much further?' I asked. I was tired already from the long walk, slogging up dusty hills and sliding down gravel gullies. Before we'd set off, I'd grabbed a long coil of rope from the deck and looped it over my shoulders. You never know when you'll need a good length of rope. But about half an hour after we'd started walking, I was regretting bringing the damn thing. Still, there was no way I would ask anyone to carry it or dump it by the track, so I trudged on.

‘Another hour to the city walls, then we must find the way in.'

Carlo's family lived in the ancient capital, the Old City, perched high on a hill above the centre of the island. With the moon behind us, we crouched in a hollow and peered up towards the great arched gateway and the massive walls. There were only two gates into the city, and both were guarded. The Old City was silent, but up on the bastions the guards were standing rigid on their watch.

I peered about. ‘Where's Francesco?' I whispered.

‘He knows a way through the walls — a smuggler's door,' Ricardo said quietly, ‘but it has been so long, we must be sure it is still safe. He has gone to see.'

Someone hissed from lower down the path. Jem cocked his pistol, and I put my hand on my dagger.

Ricardo let out a low whistle, which was answered. Within minutes, Francesco was with us, panting from
his run through the dark along the fortifications.

‘I cannot find it,' he whispered. ‘I have failed.'

‘Saints and angels above,' Miller muttered.

‘I am sorry. There is no way into the city except through the gates. The smuggler's door has been bricked up, I think. I cannot see it anywhere.'

‘Neptune's teeth!' Jem swore. ‘Now what do we do?'

‘What was meant to happen?' I asked.

Jem looked more cross than I'd ever seen him. ‘There was supposed to be …' he spat in Francesco's direction, ‘a secret door in through the convent.'

Miller spluttered. ‘Pirates in a convent? I wish I'd a-seen that.'

‘It is a sight you will never see, for now all is lost,' sighed Ricardo. ‘They are very beautiful, too, some of those younger sisters.'

‘How can you say such things?' Carlo asked. ‘It is blasphemy.'

‘I have seen them!' Ricardo retorted.

‘The Convent of St Benedict? They never admit any men, especially such sinners as you.'

If they carried on like this, I might have to bang their heads together.

‘Shut up, you two,' I hissed. ‘Any more noise and you'll have the whole guardhouse out here searching for us.'

I glanced up at Jem, who was still crouched, staring at the ramparts. ‘What do we do now?' I asked.

‘How am I supposed to know? I never been here afore!'

At that, I lost all patience and stood up. ‘This is ridiculous.'

I grabbed Carlo's sleeve and pulled him to his feet. ‘You come with me. Jem, you too.'

‘Sit down, Cyg!' Jem whispered hoarsely. ‘You're not going anywhere.'

‘None of us are, at this rate. We have to do something. Come on, Carlo. The rest of you stay here, and if you hear any commotion, run for it or start shooting to draw their attention or something like that. Miller, you'll know what to do.'

He nodded. ‘I'll think of something.'

‘Are you coming or not, Jem?'

I started scrambling towards the gate, holding Carlo's hand tight in mine. Behind us, Jem was running to catch up.

‘Cygno,' Carlo whispered, ‘do you have a plan?'

‘Not really,' I admitted. ‘After all, we don't have too many choices. The only thing to do is to walk up to the gate and ask to be let in.'

‘Are you mad?' Jem was now striding alongside us.

‘Perhaps,' I said. Maybe I was mad, but a very long walk in the middle of the night with a pack of bumbling pirates was enough to drive anybody crazy.

As our feet hit the smooth flagstones of the bridge, Jem grabbed my arm. ‘Quick, get back before they see us.'

But it was too late. The guard's challenge rang out loud and clear. ‘Halt! You cannot pass. The gates are closed until dawn.'

We stopped still in the middle of the bridge.

‘Tell him who you are, Carlo,' I said softly.

‘What?' Jem spluttered. ‘Don't you dare.'

Carlo's eyes flicked from my face to Jem's. In the moonlight, so close to home, he was torn between two loyalties and a mounting fear.

The guard cried out again. ‘Who goes there?' There was a rattle of keys and the gliding thunk of a heavy bolt, as a manhole in the huge wooden gate swung open.

‘Tell them you've been kidnapped by pirates and have finally found your way here,' I instructed Carlo, working it out as I spoke. ‘They will escort you home.'

‘But you, Cygno?' he asked.

‘I'll come with you.'

‘No!' Jem retorted. ‘I'm not losing both hostages in one night.'

I patted his chest. ‘You aren't losing any hostages, Jem. You're coming too. Just play your cards carefully and everything will be fine.'

The guards' boots were thudding on the bridge.

‘It's too late to argue, Jem,' I pleaded. ‘Trust me.'

Carlo took a huge breath, filling his lungs with air and courage, and turned to face the patrol. ‘At last,' he cried, throwing his arms open wide. ‘My countrymen!'