Voyage of Slaves (28 page)

Kostas exploded. “Aye, and maybe the Krimboti is a donkey with feathers! You talk foolish, Yanni, Alexi is attached to that ship like a banker to money!”

Ben took it upon himself to interrupt. “Cap’n, you won’t solve anything by carrying on like this. Tell me, what is the problem?”

The big Greek scratched his curly mop distractedly. “It is a long story, my friend, it is. . . . Aaah, you tell him, Yanni!”

Both Ned and Ben listened intently as Yanni explained. “Kostas, Alexi and myself all came from the island of Naxos, we were the greatest of friends as boys. All three of us wanted to be sea captains one day. Alexi was small, and given to book learning—his father was wealthy, also. Kostas and I were both from poor families, our fathers were only fishermen. But Kostas was a tall boy, handsome and strong. He was very popular. Alexi secretly disliked him for this. Having said that, Kostas also disliked Alexi.”

“Yanni, how can you say that? Little Alexi was as close to me as a brother.” Kostas was off once more, waving his arms and gesticulating.

Ben shared a thought with Ned. “I wish he’d shut up and sit down, we’re getting nowhere like this. I can’t tell him to be quiet, though—he’s a captain.”

Ned acted as he replied. “Aye, but I can, mate. Sit down, sir, down I say!” The black Labrador stood on his hind legs, pushing Kostas down into a chair with his front paws.

Ben winked at the Greek captain. “Ned wants you to sit quietly while Yanni tells me the story, Cap’n.”

Kostas stared at the dog oddly for a moment, then he waved at Yanni. “I’m sorry, friend, continue the tale.”

Yanni patted the dog’s head fondly. “Where was I—oh yes. Well, time went by, and we three boys grew up, but fate took us down different paths. Alexi’s father paid for his son to go to naval college. He did well there, and soon was sailing with the Greek navy as a young officer. Huh, the Krimboti and I, we were still running about the coast barefoot, no naval school for us, my friend. So, we fell into the pirating business, which was common among adventurous lads such as we. Now I must take you forward some years. Kostas and I had risen in the ranks—now he was a first mate and I was a gunner, aboard a Corsican vessel. We weren’t slavers or murderers, just good old-fashioned wave robbers, you understand.”

Ben nodded briefly, remembering the time he had spent aboard a French pirate vessel,
La Petite Marie,
captained by the buccaneer Raphael Thuron.
³²

“Aye, I understand, Yanni, go on.”

The seaman once more took up his narration. “It was just outside the harbour, at the isle of Kríti, where we had raided a garrison and borrowed some ammunition during the night. We sailed out, laughing, straight into a ship of our country’s navy—we almost bumped right into it in the dawn light.”

Kostas smote the table and burst out laughing. “Hohohoho! Can you guess who was standing on the forepeak, in his smart tasselled uniform? None other than our old friend. I shouted out to him, ‘Good morning to you, Little Admiral Alexi!’ ”

Ned gave a sharp bark. Kostas covered his mouth. “Oops, carry on, Yanni—tell Ben what we did.”

Yanni was smiling as he explained. “We were younger and quicker then. Kostas and I manned the cannon, and blasted the navy ship right under the bowline. Alexi was jolted off into the sea!”

The big Greek leaped to his feet, gold teeth flashing. “Let me tell it, Yanni! Hohoho, we left her with her stern in the air and her head going down. I tell you, it was a sight to see, Ben. All the navy crew had heard what I called that tiny peacock. They threw rescue lines to him, calling, ‘We’ll save you, Little Admiral Alexi!’ His lovely new uniform was ruined, he was hauled aboard with the seat torn out of his breeches. He grabbed one of those hailing trumpets and yelled out after us, ‘I know you, Kostas Krimboti, and you, too, Yanni Karopolis. Villains! Pirates! One day, when I’m a captain, I’ll hunt you both down and hang you from my ship’s yardarm. I swear on my life I will!’ ”

Ned heaved a doggy sigh, resting his head on Ben’s foot as he communicated. “Oh dear, and it’s that very same Little Alexi who’s sailing to our rescue at the moment. Well well, our friends have got themselves into a right old pickle.”

Ben questioned Kostas and Yanni. “Let me ask you two things. One, how do you know Alexi is captain of the
Callisto
? And two, does he know that you are aboard the
Blue Turtle
?”

Yanni allowed his captain to reply.

“The word that Little Alexi had been appointed as master of the
Callisto
was all up and down the coast. As I said, his father was a wealthy man—he practically paid for
Callisto
to be built, then made a gift of it to the navy. So Alexi was the natural choice. We heard in every port and water-side taverna that he had been given a commission to root out piracy on the high seas. The little maggot made it no secret that he was going to stretch our necks at the first opportunity. So we decided to fool him. Yanni and I gave up the pirating life. We bought ourselves this old tub, the
Blue Turtle,
out of our ill-gotten gains, and set ourselves up as treasure hunters. Right, Yanni?”

Yanni grinned at Ben. “Right! We became reformed characters, and dropped out of sight. You see us as we are now, practically saints, carrying cargo for the good Sisters of Santa Filomena. I don’t think there’s much chance Alexi knows that we’re aboard. But that’s where the problem arises. If he’s going to help us, then he’ll want to come on to the
Blue Turtle,
to assess the damage and speak with her captain. So you see, boy, the moment he spots the Krimboti, or me, we’re dead men!”

Ned shared a thought with Ben as they sized up both men. “Huh, you couldn’t miss those two rascals underwater on a dark night, and this Alexi fellow’s known them both since they were boys. What d’you think, mate?”

Ben spoke his thoughts aloud. “Then we must stop him seeing you both, and boarding us.”

Kostas spread his arms expressively. “But how are we going to do that, my friend?”

Yanni shook his head mournfully. “You can’t stop the Greek navy boarding you in these waters.”

There was a moment’s glum silence, then the boy caught his dog’s message. “Run up a yellow pennant?”

Ben patted Ned’s back heartily. “That’s the answer, well done, mate!”

The black Labrador arched his back casually. “Think nothing of it—just remind our cap’n that this is going to cost him more than a bone and a scrap of pork rind.”

Ben explained rapidly to his friends, “Now listen carefully, there’s not much time. Here’s what you must do. . . .”

Captain Alexi Constantinou of the warship
Callisto
stood perched on a small powder keg, with a canvas awning erected over it to protect his splendidly ornate uniform from the fine drizzle. The squat vessel, with its tattered blue sails, sat low in the water, a little over a cable length from the
Callisto.
Ever eager to use his cannon, he murmured to the master gunner standing alongside him, “D’ye think she has the look of a corsair about her?”

The gunner discouraged the idea politely. “Nay, sir, more like some old cargo coaster who’s lost her way. A good puff of wind’d send her to the bottom.”

The diminutive captain scanned her needlessly through his telescope before conceding. “Hmm, looks to be held afloat by only prayers and peeling paintwork. Hold fast, what’s that, a yellow ensign? See what she’s doing out here flying a quarantine flag—hail her immediately!”

The gunner placed the hailing trumpet to his mouth. “Ahoy,
Blue Turtle,
send your master on deck. My captain would have words with him. D’ye hear me?”

There was no sign of life from the other vessel. Little Alexi stamped his double-heeled shoe on the keg. “Are they all dead or deaf? Hail them again, gunner!”

The man did as he was commanded. About half a minute went by, then three figures emerged on the fo’c’sle deck: a man, a boy and a dog.

The cook, Nico, had a blanket draped about him, and he was limping badly. Flour and stove soot had done a good job on him—dark rings circled the agonised eyes, peering from an ashen face. The boy looked to be in the same condition; he was bravely trying to support the limping man. Two large and disgusting sores could be seen on the dog’s back. Little Captain Alexi recoiled at the unsavory sight, even at that distance. He drew forth a spotless silk kerchief and held it to his face.

Nico gave a strangled gurgle and grasped at his throat. Deputising for him, Ben called out in a reedy voice, “For pity’s sake, send us some clean drinking water, sir!”

The gunner replied, “We’ll send ye water, but first tell my captain how ye came to be here.”

“Go on, mate, lay it on thick, you poor lad. This pork rind is itching my back, can’t wait to pull it off and eat it!”

Ignoring Ned’s thoughts, Ben told their story. “We were bound for Muggia, carrying goods for the convent there. Then the cholera struck us, it must have been through drinking contaminated water. I beg you, sirs, help us—our captain, mate, and four crew have all perished from the sickness. There’s only me, the cook, and the dog who can still move about. The rest are below decks, it’s awful down there. For mercy’s sake, send us water, Cap’n!”

Little Alexi and his master gunner held a brief, whispered conversation, then Alexi took the hailer. “Water will be arriving shortly, stay where you are. We will not be boarding your vessel, and you will certainly not be boarding my ship. Understood?” Nico gave a feeble wave of acknowledgment, allowing Alexi to continue. “With a dead captain, I don’t think you’ll have anyone capable of reading charts or setting courses. Last night’s storm has blown your craft well up into the Adriatic Sea. You are about three leagues off the Dalmatian Islands. I propose to take you in tow. You are going to a small, uninhabited isle, not far from Losinj and the greater Dalmatians.”

Ben seemed bewildered. “An uninhabited island, sir, but who will be there to minister to us?”

Little Alexi answered sternly. “Even if there were people there, who would come aboard a plague ship? No, boy, it is up to what’s left of your crew to heal yourselves, and make your ship seaworthy again. If you ever make it to the convent at Muggia, I am sure the sisters there will care for you. Now, stand by to receive water and a towing rope!”

Kostas suddenly appeared on deck, carrying a huge painting. It was the one of the Virgin and Child surrounded by many angels, which Fra Salvatore himself had painted for the Mother Superior of the convent. Kostas Krimboti had removed his gold coin teeth and covered his mop of red curls with a turban made from a bedsheet. He had dotted his face with bits of pork rind, stuck on with grease. The effect was frightening. He laughed and cackled as though he had lost his mind from the fever. Dribbling from the side of his mouth, he winked at his old adversary.

“Your Honour, accept this lovely painting as a gift from our dead cap’n. I took it from his stiff hands for you!”

Little Alexi stumbled from his perch on the keg. He hurried off to his cabin, calling back to the gunner, “Tell them to keep that idiot below decks! Fire on the vessel if they try to pass the painting over!”

Ben caught the heaving line, to which the cask of fresh water and the towing hawser were attached. Nico, Kostas and Ned helped him to haul it in and attach the tow to their forepeak. Under the gaze of the gunner and several horrified navy crewmen, they shuffled off to the captain’s cabin.

Yanni eyed Kostas fiercely. “Why did you do that? You promised to stay out of sight!”

The big Greek paused to insert his golden teeth. “Hohoho, where’s your sense of humour, Yanniko? I just had to take a look at that pompous little oaf. He hasn’t changed a bit. No, wait, I think he’s grown even smaller. Hohohoho!”

Ben pointed an accusing finger at the captain. “Aye, but if he’d recognised you, your neck would have grown longer by now, and Yanni’s, too!”

Kostas looked shamefaced, but only for a moment. “I’m sorry, boy, it was silly of me.” Then he held up a cup of the fresh water they had taken from the
Callisto.
“Let’s drink a toast to Little Admiral Alexi! Hohoooo!”

Everyone laughed. Kostas Krimboti was not a man you could stay mad at for long. He quaffed off the water. “This far up the Adriatic, eh, that storm must’ve driven us along like a wild eagle. That’s the fastest my old
Blue Turtle
ever went. Well, let’s settle down for a good rest. Little Alexi isn’t going to hang us by his rope, he’s going to tow us to safety! Here, Nico, let me help you back to your bunk. Easy now, don’t wake the baby Amico, he’s still snoring like a dog.”

Ned huffed. “Snoring like a dog? I wonder if humans listen to themselves when they’re asleep. Still, you can’t help liking Kostas, the golden-mouthed rogue!”

Ben curled up alongside his dog, thinking, “I wonder how the Rizzolis went on in that storm?”

Ned opened one eye. “No, you mean you wonder how the beautiful Serafina went on, and does she still love you?”

Ben tweaked the Labrador’s tail. “Silence, Bundi!”

The day brightened as it progressed. Ghigno even allowed his captives out on deck to take the air. Serafina stared out over the sunlit waters, pointing.

“Oh, look, Lindi, dolphins, aren’t they beautiful!”

La Lindi joined her to watch the graceful mammals following the ship. The snake charmer lowered her voice. “They’ve stopped searching for Ben and Ned, I heard one of the guards chatting. We’re headed straight to Piran, with no stops in between. At least that’s good news for him, not being pursued anymore.”

Serafina never took her eyes from the dolphins. “Not such good news for Otto, though—that leaves him only one chance to see that we escape.”

La Lindi opened the basket lid to allow her python, Mwaga, a little warmth from the sun. “It’s just as well, I have a bad feeling about this idea of escape. It’s far too dangerous. Do you imagine Al Misurata would sit still and twiddle his thumbs if we were free?”