The Baroque Cycle - The Confusion Part 15

BREATHING SEEMED INFINITELY MORE FINE and more momentous than anything that could possibly be going on around him, but after a while the novelty wore off and he began to wake up and to take stock of his situation. and more momentous than anything that could possibly be going on around him, but after a while the novelty wore off and he began to wake up and to take stock of his situation.

The lights along the sh.o.r.e were gone, which meant that they were adrift in the channel as planned. Probably they were still gliding past the no man's land between Bonanza and Sanlucar de Barrameda. And yet the brig was still pointed upstream and her anchor cables were still stretched taut, because of that heavy chain she was dragging along the river-bottom. A person on the brig, preoccupied with having just been collided with by a rug-galleot, might not notice the drift.

Abovedecks, which might have been a different continent for all it mattered to Jack, some kind of acrid discussion was going on between Mr. Foot and a Spaniard (Jack a.s.sumed it was the ranking officer on the brig). The latter seemed to think that he was greatly humiliating Mr. Foot before his crew by lecturing to him on certain elementary facts about how properly to anchor a s.h.i.+p in an estuary. Mr. Foot, far from being embarra.s.sed, was doing his best to elongate the argument by almost but not quite understanding everything that the other said. His ability to misapprehend even the simplest declarations had been driving his acquaintances into frenzies of annoyance for years. Finally he had discovered a practical use for it.

Meanwhile the oarsmen on the galleot were putting on a great show of indolence, very very gradually getting themselves settled into position to row away from the brig. But certain decorative encrustations on the galleot's high stern had become entangled in supremely functional matters on the brig's bowsprit, such as the martingale (a spar projecting vertically downwards from about the middle of the bowsprit) and the stays that held it in place. The disentanglement of the two vessels took some time, and was noisy, which was good because a few yards away the Cabal was hard at work doing things that, in other circ.u.mstances, would have waked the dead. gradually getting themselves settled into position to row away from the brig. But certain decorative encrustations on the galleot's high stern had become entangled in supremely functional matters on the brig's bowsprit, such as the martingale (a spar projecting vertically downwards from about the middle of the bowsprit) and the stays that held it in place. The disentanglement of the two vessels took some time, and was noisy, which was good because a few yards away the Cabal was hard at work doing things that, in other circ.u.mstances, would have waked the dead.

The brig had a sort of blind spot (or so they hoped) around her stempost. The stempost was nothing more than the foremost part of the keel, where it broke out of the water and slanted up to support the figurehead, the bowsprit, and the railing around the s.h.i.+p's head. This part of the s.h.i.+p was made for das.h.i.+ng against the sea as she fought through weather, and so was devoid of complications such as hatches and ports, which tended to be weak and leaky. Furthermore it was sharply undershot, and difficult to see from the deck above. One could get a clear look at it only by going to the head, kneeling down, and thrusting one's head down and out through the s.h.i.+te-hole (which had been deemed unlikely by the architects of the Plan) or by clambering out onto the bowsprit to work the rigging a.s.sociated with the spritsails. Those sails would not come into use tonight, but this posed a danger nonetheless, as several seamen had gone out there to work on the disentanglement.

But there was nothing Jack could do about that, so he tried to concentrate on matters nearer to hand. There was a veritable crowd down here! Yevgeny, Gabriel, and Nyazi had jumped from the galleot moments before the collision, and had evidently had better luck with their boarding axes than Jack-perhaps because they had not been half-drowned to start out with. They had converged on the stempost, which was one enormously thick piece of solid wood, and after pulling in bags of tools and weapons tethered to their ankles they had driven spikes into that wood with m.u.f.fled hammers and hung little rope slings from the spikes, just big enough to serve as footholds. Jack let go of one of his axes, flailed out, and grabbed an empty one. With some thras.h.i.+ng around he was able to get a foot into it. Yevgeny, also coated in black grease, was barely visible above, standing in another one of these foot-loops. He offered Jack a hand, and pulled him all the way up out of the water. Jack and Yevgeny were now plastered up against the hull together, just to one side of the stempost. Yevgeny thumped Jack's shoulder five times, meaning "we are five." So on the opposite side of the stempost, Gabriel and Nyazi must have established footholds of their own. Apparently Dappa had avoided the fate of keel-hauling, too.

There followed an hour of something approaching boredom. The general circ.u.mstances were anything but boring, of course, yet there was nothing for Jack to do except hang there and await death or deliverance. Yevgeny thrust a sack into Jack's hand. Jack found a pair of breeches inside, and a belt, and the Janissary-sword. The galleot worked itself free and rowed off, driven on a fresh gale of invective from the supremely irritated Spaniards-who almost immediately realized that they were being pushed downriver by the tidal current, and were already more than a mile from the Viceroy's villa. They tried the anchor cables and found them taut, but not taut enough. Then they tried bringing them in, and found them fouled by the mysterious las.h.i.+ngs of Jack and Dappa. Shouts and thuds reverberated dimly through the hull-planking as the crew were ordered belowdecks to man the sweeps.

But they had barely begun to row, there in the broad estuary below Sanlucar de Barrameda, when the galleot-which had been stalking them through the night-shot out of the darkness, moving with a speed that the pudgy, barnacle-fouled brig could only dream of, and came on almost as if making for a head-on collision. It diverted to starboard at the last possible moment (to the relief of Jack and the others, who would have been crushed), folded her oars on that side, and skimmed down the side of the brig, shearing away half of her sweeps, and leaving her there like a bird with one wing shot off.

Now this, of course, was an overt attack, the brig's first inarguable proof that she was under a.s.sault by pirates. So her captain moved just as van Hoek had predicted: He ordered that a cannon be run out and fired, as a signal to whomever was keeping watch over the harbor from the battlements of Sanlucar de Barrameda.

But a single cannon-shot in the night-time is an ambiguous statement, and difficult to interpret-especially when what it is trying to say is something extremely implausible, such as that a Viceroy's treasure-brig is being a.s.saulted by a Corsair-galley in the midst of one of Spain's most important harbors. And no sooner had the brig fired its distress-shot than another s.h.i.+p, a bit farther out to sea, fired several: several: this was this was Meteore, Meteore, the the jacht jacht that had appeared out of the Gulf towards sunset, flying Dutch colors. In response, a ragged patter of signals were fired from the town's batteries. This had been done at the request of the that had appeared out of the Gulf towards sunset, flying Dutch colors. In response, a ragged patter of signals were fired from the town's batteries. This had been done at the request of the cargador metedoro, cargador metedoro, who had been talked into believing that he had incoming goods on that who had been talked into believing that he had incoming goods on that jacht jacht and did not want to wake up tomorrow morning to discover that she had run aground on the bar. and did not want to wake up tomorrow morning to discover that she had run aground on the bar.

The Viceroy's brig, spinning helplessly in the swirling currents, was swept out over the bar and into the Gulf of Cadiz without anyone in the town's having a clear idea of what was going on.

There was a half-moon that night, and as they drifted into the Gulf Jack watched it chasing the lost sun towards the western ocean, all aglow on its underside, like a ball of silver heated on one side by the burning radiance of a forge. It was shrouded in ripped and frayed tissues of cloud that stole some of its light: new weather coming in from the ocean, which was bad for them, because it meant that tomorrow their pursuers would have wind.

And tonight their prey were beginning to have it: a chilly breeze coming in straight from the Atlantic. Seamen had already gone to stations on the upperdeck to raise sails and get under way as best they might. Jack sensed that the Spaniards were breathing easier now: The ride down the dark river among anch.o.r.ed s.h.i.+ps and over the shallow bar had been dangerous, but now they had a lot of water under their keel, and they had a bit of wind. After a few minutes' preparations they could raise some sails and move out a bit farther from the town, to eliminate the risk of running aground, and wait for daylight.

They were unaware that the galleot, after shearing away their oars, had rowed out into the Gulf and transformed herself into another kind of s.h.i.+p entirely. Stowed in the aisle that ran up her center, between the benches, had been an uncommonly large carpet, rolled up into a bundle some ten yards long. But that carpet (if all had gone according to the Plan) was now jetsam, unrolled and adrift in the Gulf of Cadiz somewhere. Its former contents-a tree-trunk of straight-grained fir from the slopes of the Atlas Mountains, spoke-shaved to a smooth needle shape, bolstered with iron hoops, and tipped with a barbed iron spearhead-had been brought forward and mounted on the nose of the galleot, somewhat like a bowsprit, but nearer to the waterline, and not so enc.u.mbered with stays and martingales. That iron spearhead should even now be skimming over the waves at a velocity of about ten knots, with fifty tons of galleot behind it, and one Spanish treasure-brig dead ahead.

The general plan was to strike the brig on her quarter, which meant towards the stern, where large cannons were somewhat less plentiful. The only drawback was that this made it impossible for the five boarders who were clinging to the stempost to see the galleot approaching (to the extent they could see anything anything by the flat chalky light of the setting half-moon). But the sudden screaming from the other end of the s.h.i.+p gave them a good clue that the time was now. They waited for a moment, as many footsteps receded, and then finally swung their grapples up and over the rail. Each man pulled on his rope until he felt the flukes catch in something (no way of guessing what, or how st.u.r.dy it might be) and after testing it with a few sharp tugs, abandoned his foot-loop and gave himself up to his rope. Because the hull flared out overhead they all swung far away from it, and swept to and fro above the water like pendulums. by the flat chalky light of the setting half-moon). But the sudden screaming from the other end of the s.h.i.+p gave them a good clue that the time was now. They waited for a moment, as many footsteps receded, and then finally swung their grapples up and over the rail. Each man pulled on his rope until he felt the flukes catch in something (no way of guessing what, or how st.u.r.dy it might be) and after testing it with a few sharp tugs, abandoned his foot-loop and gave himself up to his rope. Because the hull flared out overhead they all swung far away from it, and swept to and fro above the water like pendulums.

Jack's arms nearly gave way, for they had grown stiff in the fresh breeze coming off the ocean, and he slid down a short distance before finally whipping a leg round the rope and trapping it between s.h.i.+ns and ankles. After that it was just rope-climbing, which was something he had done far too much of in his life. Consequently he surprised himself by being the first boarder to tumble over the rail and feel the blessing of wood against the soles of his feet.

He was standing in that part of the s.h.i.+p known as the head, gazing down her length. The moonlight was horizontal and so the masts, the rigging, and a few standing figures were columns of silver, but the deck was a black pool, completely invisible. A vast commotion was underway astern. Several pistols were suddenly discharged, making Jack startle. At the same moment he heard a gaseous eruption from very nearby, and turned to discover a Spaniard seated on a bench with his breeches round his ankles, gazing up, moonfaced with astonishment, at Jack. He made as if to stand, but Jack simply fell into him, driving one shoulder into the man's abdomen to prevent him from calling out, shoving his b.u.t.tocks into the hole he'd been sitting on, and wedging him into place with gleaming knees projecting into the sky. The Spaniard threw out one hand like a grapple on a rope, reaching for his coat, neatly folded on the bench, where a loaded pistol lay. But out came the Janissary-sword. Jack put its point against the Spaniard's belly. "I'll have that, senor," he said, and took the pistol up in his free hand.

The other four boarders were just struggling over the rail. The timing was apt, because now there was a mighty splintering pop from astern. One of the benefits of having been a galley-slave of the Barbary Corsairs for several years was that Jack knew and recognized that sound: It was a large iron spear-head piercing the hull of a European s.h.i.+p. And it was followed a moment later by a crash that made them all hop to keep their balance.

Nyazi had clambered aboard farther astern than anyone else, and was all of a sudden blind-sided by a Spaniard who came at him silently with a dagger. The weapon lunged forward and met only air. Nyazi had somehow sensed the attack and gone elsewhere. Then he was back, swinging his cutla.s.s, and felled his attacker with a frantic back-handed slash.

Then Dappa, Gabriel, Yevgeny, and Jack all moved at once, without discussion. Some parts of the Plan were complicated, but not this one. A brig had but two masts, and each mast had a platform halfway up called a top, reachable by clambering up a ladderlike web of shrouds. At this moment the fore-top was unoccupied. Jack handed the pistol to Dappa, who tucked it into his belt and began climbing. Yevgeny was loading some pistols he had brought with him (it being impractical to keep them loaded, and their powder dry, when they were b.u.mping about in a partly submerged bag). Jack and Gabriel worked their separate ways astern along the larboard and starboard rails respectively, Jack swinging his Janissary-sword and Gabriel a sort of queer two-handed scimitar of Nipponese manufacture, on loan from some Corsair-captain's trophy case. They were severing not heads, but haul-yards: the lines, running in parallel courses through large blocks, that were used to hoist up the yards from which the s.h.i.+p's sails were all suspended.

Finally, then, Jack and Gabriel began to ascend the main shrouds, converging on the maintop where three Spanish sailors had belatedly realized that they were under siege. One of these drew out a pistol and pointed it down at Jack, but was struck in the arm by a pistol-ball from Dappa, shooting from a few yards away on the fore-top. A moment later Yevgeny fired from down on the deck, and apparently missed-a.s.suming he was even trying to hit anything. For the two unhurt sailors on the maintop were dumbfounded to find themselves under fire from the bows of their own s.h.i.+p, only moments after being rammed astern, and it was probably better to have them stunned and indecisive than wounded and angry. Jack and Gabriel gained the maintop at about the same time, disarmed the two unhurt sailors at sword-point, and encouraged them, in the strongest possible terms, to descend to the deck. Yevgeny tossed up a couple of muskets, which were not even loaded yet.

Not that it mattered. For Jeronimo, standing back on the quarterdeck of the galleot, had seen Jack's and Gabriel's exploits. Raising to his lips the same speaking trumpet that Mr. Foot had used, only hours before, to try to sell carpets to the Viceroy, he now delivered a flowery oration in n.o.ble Spanish. Jack did not know the language that well, but caught the obligatory reference to Neptune (in whose jurisdiction they now were) and Ulysses (representing the Cabal) who had gone into a certain cave (the estuary of the Guadalquivir) that turned out to contain a Cyclops (the Viceroy and/or his brig) and escaped by poking said Cyclops in the eye with a pointed stick (no metaphor here; they had done it literally). It would have sounded magnificent, booming out of that trumpet and across the water, except that it was commingled with bewildering spates of profanity that made the sailors edge backwards and cross themselves.

Jeronimo identified himself, then, as El Desamparado Returned from h.e.l.l-as if he could have been any other. He reminded the brig's captain that he was now adrift in the Gulf with a completely disabled s.h.i.+p and a skeleton crew, that his tops were now commanded by boarders armed with muskets, and, in case anyone was insufficiently scared, he told the lie that ten pounds of gunpowder were encased in the hollow head of the battering-ram now buried deep in the brig's vitals, not far away from the powder magazine, and that it could easily be detonated at the whim of who else but El Desamparado.

Jack had the benefit of watching this performance from an exclusive private loge, as it were, at the back of the theatre. He noticed a sigh run through the brig's crew when the fell sobriquet of El Desamparado first rang from the trumpet. The battle turned at that instant. When the gunpowder was mentioned, pistols and cutla.s.ses began clattering to the deck. Jack judged that the captain, and one or two officers, were willing to fight-but it scarcely mattered, because the crew, exhausted from the pa.s.sage of the Atlantic, were not keen on giving their lives to make the Viceroy slightly richer, when the taverns and wh.o.r.ehouses of Sanlucar de Barrameda glowed so warmly from the sh.o.r.e a couple of miles away.

Six Barbary Corsairs-now resplendent in turbans and scimitars-came aboard the brig, along with the other members of the Cabal. Two of the Corsairs remained on the galleot, prowling up and down the aisle with whips and muskets to remind the oar-slaves that they were yet in the power of Algiers. The brig's crew were disarmed and herded up to the p.o.o.p deck, and several swivel-guns were charged with double loads of buckshot and aimed in their direction, manned by Corsairs or Cabal-members with burning torches. The officers were put in leg-irons and locked into a cabin guarded by a Corsair. They were joined by Mr. Foot, who made them chocolate; as it was felt by many in the Cabal that the best way to keep several Spanish officers in a helpless stupor was to have Mr. Foot engage them in light conversation.

Jeronimo led Nasr al-Ghurab, Moseh, Jack, and Dappa belowdecks to the shot-locker, and hacked off a giant padlock, and flung its hatch open. Jack was expecting to see lead cannonb.a.l.l.s, or nothing but rat-t.u.r.ds, because life had trained him to expect grievous disappointments and double-crossings at every turn. But the contents of that locker gleamed as only precious metals could-and gleamed yellow.

Jack thought of finding Eliza in the hole beneath Vienna.

"Gold!" Dappa said.

"No, it is a trick of the light," Jeronimo insisted, moving his torch to and fro, experimenting with different positions. "These are silver pigs."

"They are too regular in their shape to be pigs," Jack pointed out. "Those are bars of refined metal."

"Nonetheless-silver it must be, for gold is not produced by the mines of New Spain," said El Desamparado doggedly. Now Jack had a small insight concerning Excellentissimo Domino Jeronimo Alejandro Penasco de Halcones Quinto: He had a tale worked out in his head, like the tales written in the moldy books of his ancestors. The tale was the only way for him to make sense of his life. It ended with him finding a h.o.a.rd of silver pigs, tonight, here. To find anything other than silver pigs was to suffer some sort of cruel mockery at the hands of Fate; finding gold was as bad as finding nothing.

But Jack's reflections, and the Caballero's denials, were interrupted by a sharp noise. The rais rais had taken a coin from his belt-pouch and tossed it onto one of the bars. It spun and buzzed, a disk of silvery white on a slab of yellow. "That is a piece of eight-if you have forgotten the color of silver," said Nasr al-Ghurab. "What it lies on is gold." had taken a coin from his belt-pouch and tossed it onto one of the bars. It spun and buzzed, a disk of silvery white on a slab of yellow. "That is a piece of eight-if you have forgotten the color of silver," said Nasr al-Ghurab. "What it lies on is gold."

Then, for a long time, none of them uttered a sound. Even Jeronimo's tongue had been silenced.

Moseh cleared his throat. "I think Jews have no word for this," he said, "because we do not expect to get so lucky. But Christians, I believe, call it Grace."

"I would call it blood money," said Dappa.

"It was always always blood money," Jeronimo said. blood money," Jeronimo said.

"You told us, once, that the silver mines of Guanajuato were worked by free men," Dappa reminded him. "This, being gold, must come from the mines of Brazil-which are worked by slaves taken from Africa."

"I have watched you shoot a Spanish sailor not half an hour ago-where were all your scruples then?" Jack asked.

Dappa glared back at him. "Overcome by a desire not to see my comrade get shot in the face."

Jeronimo said, "The Plan does not allow for finding gold where we expected silver. It means we have thirteen times as much money as we reckoned. Most likely we will all end up killing each other-perhaps this very night!"

"Now your demon is talking," said al-Ghurab.

"But my demon always speaks the truth."

"We will continue with the Plan as if this were silver," Moseh said nervously.

Jeronimo said, "You are all filthy liars, or imbeciles. Obviously there is no reason to go to Cairo!"

"On the contrary: There is an excellent reason, which is that the Investor expects to meet us there, to claim his rake-off."

"The investor himself himself!? Or did you mean to say, the Investor's agents agents?" Jack said sharply.

Moseh said, "It makes no difference," but exchanged a nervous look with Dappa.

"I heard one of the Pasha's officials joking that the Investor was going to Cairo to hunt for Ali Zaybak!" said the rais, rais, trying to inject a bit of levity. The attempt failed, leaving him bewildered, and Moseh on the verge of blacking out. trying to inject a bit of levity. The attempt failed, leaving him bewildered, and Moseh on the verge of blacking out.

"Why do we waste breath speaking of the Frog?" Jeronimo demanded. "Let the wh.o.r.eson chase phant'sies to the end of the earth for all we care."

"The answer is simple: He has a knife to our throats," said al-Ghurab.

"What are you talking about?" Jack asked.

"That jacht jacht did not sail down here only to provide a diversion," said the Corsair. "He could have dispatched any moldy old tub for that purpose." did not sail down here only to provide a diversion," said the Corsair. "He could have dispatched any moldy old tub for that purpose."

"The Turk makes sense," Dappa said to Jack in English. "Jacht means 'hunter,' and that is the swiftest-looking vessel I've ever seen. She could sail rings around us-firing broadsides all the while." means 'hunter,' and that is the swiftest-looking vessel I've ever seen. She could sail rings around us-firing broadsides all the while."

"So Meteore Meteore is poised to kill us, if we play any tricks," Jack said, "but how will she know whether or not we need to be killed?" is poised to kill us, if we play any tricks," Jack said, "but how will she know whether or not we need to be killed?"

"Before we row away tonight, we are to sound a certain bugle-call. If we fail-or if we sound the wrong one-she'll fall on the galleot at first light, like a lioness on a crate full of chickens," the Turk answered. "Likewise, we are to give certain signals to the Algerian s.h.i.+ps that will escort us along the coast of Barbary, and to the French ones that will accompany us through the eastern Mediterranean."

"And you are the only man who knows these signals, I suppose," Dappa said, finding amus.e.m.e.nt here, as he did in many odd places.

"Hmph...what's the world coming to when a French Duke cannot bring himself to trust a merry crew such as ours?" Jack grumbled.

"I wonder if the Investor knew, all along, that the brig would contain gold?" Dappa said.

"I wonder if he will know tomorrow, tomorrow," said Jack, staring into the eyes of the rais. rais.

Al-Ghurab grinned. "There is no signal for that information."

Moseh, clapping his hands together, now said, "I believe the larger larger point our captain is making is that even if point our captain is making is that even if some some of us..." glancing towards Jeronimo, "are inclined to turn this unexpected good fortune into a pretext for intrigues and skullduggery, we'll not even have the opportunity to scheme against; betray; and/or murder one another unless we get the goods off this brig of us..." glancing towards Jeronimo, "are inclined to turn this unexpected good fortune into a pretext for intrigues and skullduggery, we'll not even have the opportunity to scheme against; betray; and/or murder one another unless we get the goods off this brig fast fast and commence rowing." and commence rowing."

"This is merely a postponement," Jeronimo sighed. Obviously, it would take many days to cheer him up. "The inevitable result will be double-crossings and a general bloodbath." He reached down with both hands and heaved a gold bar off the top of the h.o.a.rd with a grunt of effort.

"One," said Nasr al-Ghurab.

Jeronimo began trudging up the stairs.

Moseh stepped forward and wrapped his fingers around a bar; bent his knees; and pulled it up off the stack. "It is not so different from pulling on a wooden oar," he said.

"Two," said the rais. rais.

Dappa hesitated, then forced himself to reach out and put his hands on a bar, as if it were red hot. "White men tell the lie that we are cannibals," he said, "and now I am become one."

"Three."

"Don't be gloomy, Dappa," Jack said. "Recall that I could've run away last night. Instead I listened to the Imp of the Perverse."

"What is your point?" Dappa muttered over his shoulder.

"Four," said al-Ghurab, watching Jack grab a bar.

Jack began to mount the stairs behind Dappa. "I'm the only one of us who had a choice. choice. And-never mind what the Calvinists say-no man is truly d.a.m.ned until he has d.a.m.ned himself. The rest of you are just like trapped animals gnawing your legs off." And-never mind what the Calvinists say-no man is truly d.a.m.ned until he has d.a.m.ned himself. The rest of you are just like trapped animals gnawing your legs off."

What when we fled amain, pursu'd and strookWith Heav'ns afflicting Thunder, and besoughtThe Deep to shelter us? This h.e.l.l then seem'dA refuge from those wounds: or when we layChain'd on the burning Lake? that sure was worse.-MILTON, Paradise Lost They left the ram embedded in the brig's b.u.t.tock and rowed off about an hour before dawn as one of the Corsairs played a heathen melody on a bugle. Most of their previous cargo and ballast had been thrown overboard as the gold bars had been pa.s.sed from hand to hand up out of the brig's shot-locker and across the deck and slid down a plank into the galleot. As sunrise approached, the breeze off the ocean consolidated itself into a steady west wind. First light revealed a colossal wall of red clouds that began somewhere below the western horizon and reached halfway to the stars. It was a sight to make sailors scurry for safe harbor, even if they were not aboard an undecked, anchorless row-boat fleeing from the iniquity of Man and the wrath of G.o.d.

The distance to the Strait of Gibraltar was seventy or eighty miles. With no wind to fill their sails that would take longer than a day; in these circ.u.mstances, it could be done before nightfall.

Van Hoek payed no attention to those clouds, which were many hours in their future; he was gazing at the waves around them, which began to develop little white hats as the sun and the wind came up. "They will be able to make six knots," he said, referring to the Spanish s.h.i.+ps that would be chasing them, "and that that beauty will be able to make eight," nodding at beauty will be able to make eight," nodding at Meteore, Meteore, which was becoming visible a few miles in the distance. Jack and everyone else knew perfectly well that in these circ.u.mstances-the hull recently sc.r.a.ped and waxed, and combining the use of sails and oars-the galleot could likewise sustain eight knots. which was becoming visible a few miles in the distance. Jack and everyone else knew perfectly well that in these circ.u.mstances-the hull recently sc.r.a.ped and waxed, and combining the use of sails and oars-the galleot could likewise sustain eight knots.

They might, in other words, have been able to flee from the jacht jacht and make a run for freedom on this very day-but first they would have had to fight the Corsairs on board. And at the end of the day they'd have to rely on other Corsairs to protect them from Spanish vengeance. So they adhered to the Plan. and make a run for freedom on this very day-but first they would have had to fight the Corsairs on board. And at the end of the day they'd have to rely on other Corsairs to protect them from Spanish vengeance. So they adhered to the Plan.

The first several miles, from Sanlucar de Barrameda to Cadiz, might have been an ordinary morning cruise, no different from their training-voyages around Algiers. But Meteore Meteore-now flying French colors-raised as much sail as she could, and began to shadow them, a mile or two off to the west. Perhaps she only wanted to observe, but perhaps she was waiting for an opportunity to board them, and seize all the proceeds, and send them back into slavery or to David Jones's Locker. So they made as much speed as they could, and were already running scared, and rowing hard, when they came in sight of Cadiz. Two frigates sailed out from there and challenged them with cannon-shots across the bows-evidently messengers had galloped down from Bonanza during the night.

The day then dissolved into a long sickening panic, a slow and stretched-out dying. Jack rowed, and was whipped, and other times he whipped other men who were rowing. He stood above men he loved and saw only livestock, and whipped skin off their backs to make them row infinitesimally harder, and later they did the same to him. The rais rais himself rowed, and was whipped by his own slaves. Whips wore out and broke. The galleot became an open tray of blood, skin, and hair, a single living body cut open by some pitiless anatomist: the benches ribs, the oars digits, the men gristle, the drum a beating heart, the whips raw dissected nerves that spun and whorled and crackled through the viscera of the hull. This was the first hour of their day, and the last; it quickly became too terrible to imagine, and remained thus without letting up, forever, even though it was only a day-just as a short nightmare can seemingly encompa.s.s a century. It pa.s.sed out of time, in other words, and so there was nothing to tell of it, as it was not a story. himself rowed, and was whipped by his own slaves. Whips wore out and broke. The galleot became an open tray of blood, skin, and hair, a single living body cut open by some pitiless anatomist: the benches ribs, the oars digits, the men gristle, the drum a beating heart, the whips raw dissected nerves that spun and whorled and crackled through the viscera of the hull. This was the first hour of their day, and the last; it quickly became too terrible to imagine, and remained thus without letting up, forever, even though it was only a day-just as a short nightmare can seemingly encompa.s.s a century. It pa.s.sed out of time, in other words, and so there was nothing to tell of it, as it was not a story.

They did not begin to be human again until the sun went down, and then they had no idea where they were. There were not as many men in the galleot as there had been when the sun had come up and they had dipped dry oars into the whitecaps as the bugle played. No one was really sure why. Jack had a vague recollection of seeing b.l.o.o.d.y bodies going over the gunwales, pushed by many hands, and of an attempt that had been made to throw him overboard, which had come to naught when he had begun thras.h.i.+ng around. Jack a.s.sumed that Mr. Foot could not have survived the day, until later he heard ragged breathing from a dark corner of the quarterdeck, and found him huddled under some canvas. The rest of the Cabal had all survived. Or at least they were all present. The meaning of survival was not entirely clear on a day like this. Certainly they would never be the same. Jack's similitude about trapped beasts gnawing their legs off had been intended as a sort of jest, to make Dappa feel less guilty, but today it had come true; even if Moseh, Jeronimo, and the others were still breathing, and still aboard, important pieces of them had been chewed off and left behind. That night, it did not occur to Jack that, for some of them at least, this might amount to an improvement.

Raindrops were coming out of the dark, and they lay on their bellies on the benches letting the water cleanse their wounds. The galleot was bucking in huge pyramidal seas that rushed at her from various directions. Some were afraid they would run aground on the sh.o.r.e of Spain. But van Hoek-once he was able to speak again, and had finished praying to G.o.d for forgiveness and redemption-said he was certain he had spied Tarifa off to port, gleaming in the sunlight of late afternoon. This meant that the weather was driving them into the open Mediterranean; that the Corsair-countries were on their starboard; and that they were now a part of Spain's glorious past.

Off Malta.

LATE AUGUST 1690.

"SINCE BEFORE THE TIME of the Prophet my clan has bred and raised camels on the green foothills of the Mountains of Nuba, in Kordofan, up above the White Nile," said Nyazi, as the galleot drifted langorously through the channel between Malta and Sicily. "When they are come of age, we drive them in great caravans down into Omdurman, where the White and the Blue Nile become one, and thence we follow tracks known only to us, sometimes close to the Nile and sometimes ranging far out into the Sahara, until we reach the Khan el-Khalili in Cairo. That is the greatest market of camels, and of many other things besides, in the world. Sometimes too we have been known to follow the Blue Nile upstream and cross over the mountains of Gonder into Addis Ababa and points beyond, even ranging as far as sea-ports where ivory-boats set their sails for Mocha. of the Prophet my clan has bred and raised camels on the green foothills of the Mountains of Nuba, in Kordofan, up above the White Nile," said Nyazi, as the galleot drifted langorously through the channel between Malta and Sicily. "When they are come of age, we drive them in great caravans down into Omdurman, where the White and the Blue Nile become one, and thence we follow tracks known only to us, sometimes close to the Nile and sometimes ranging far out into the Sahara, until we reach the Khan el-Khalili in Cairo. That is the greatest market of camels, and of many other things besides, in the world. Sometimes too we have been known to follow the Blue Nile upstream and cross over the mountains of Gonder into Addis Ababa and points beyond, even ranging as far as sea-ports where ivory-boats set their sails for Mocha.

"Unlike my comrade Jeronimo I am not one to tell flowery stories, and so I will merely relate that on one such journey, many of the men in my caravan fell ill and died. Now we are great fighters all. But we were so weakened that, in a mountain pa.s.s, we fell prey to a tribe of savages who have never heard the word of the Prophet; or if they have, they have disregarded it, which is worse. At any rate, it was their custom that a young man could not come of age and take a wife until he had castrated an enemy and brought his orchids of maleness to the chief shaman. And so every man of my clan who had not died of the disease was emasculated, except for me. For I had been riding behind the caravan to warn of ambushes from the rear. I was on an excellent stallion. When I heard the fighting, I galloped forward, praying that Allah would let me perish in battle. But by the time I drew near, all I heard was screaming. Some of it was the cries of the men being castrated, but, too, I heard my own brother-who had already suffered-shouting my name. 'Nyazi!' he cried, 'Fly away, and meet us at the Caravanserai of Abu Has.h.i.+m! For henceforth you must be the husband of our wives, and the father of our children; the Ibrahim of our race.' "

This engendered a respectful silence from each of the Ten, save one. Jack held his cupped hands in front of him like scale-pans, bobbled them, and let one drop. "Beats having your nuts cut off by wild men," he said.

At this Nyazi flew into a rage (which was something Nyazi did very well) and launched himself on Jack more or less like a leopard. Jack fell on his a.r.s.e, then rolled onto his back-which hurt, because his back was still one large scab. He managed to get his knees up in Nyazi's ribs, then used the strength of his legs to shove him off. Nyazi sprawled flat on his his back, screamed just as Jack had done, and there was pinned to the deck by Gabriel Goto and Yevgeny. It was several minutes before he could be calmed down. back, screamed just as Jack had done, and there was pinned to the deck by Gabriel Goto and Yevgeny. It was several minutes before he could be calmed down.

"I offer you my apologies," he said, with extreme gravity. "I forgot that you have suffered an even worse mutilation."

"Worse? How do you reckon?" asked Jack, still lying flat trying to think of a way to stand up without doing any more damage to his back.

Nyazi copied Jack's gesture of the bobbling scale-pans. "My clansmen could still perform the act-but they did not wish to. You wish to, but cannot."

"Touche," Jack muttered.

"Because of this, I see, now, that you were not accusing me of cowardice, and so I no longer feel obligated to kill you."

"Truly you are a prince among camel-traders, Nyazi, and no man is better suited to be the Ibrahim of his race."

"Alas," Nyazi sighed, "I have not yet been able to impregnate even a single one of my forty wives."

"Forty!" cried several of the Cabal at once.

"Counting the several I already had; ones we had acquired in trade during this trip and sent home via a different route; and those of the men who had been made eunuchs by the savages, the number should come to forty, give or take a few. All waiting for me in the foothills of the mountains of Nuba." Nyazi got a faraway look in his eye, and an impressive swelling down below. "I have been saving myself," he announced, "refusing to practice the sin of Onan, even when ifrits ifrits and succubi come to tempt me in the night-time. For to spill my seed is to diminish my ferocity, and weaken my resolve." and succubi come to tempt me in the night-time. For to spill my seed is to diminish my ferocity, and weaken my resolve."

"You never made it to the Caravanserai of Abu Has.h.i.+m?"

"On the contrary, I rode there directly, and there waited for my poor clansmen to catch up with me. I understood it might be a long wait, as men who have suffered in this way naturally tend to avoid long camel rides. After I had been there for two nights, a caravan came down out of the upper White Nile laden with ivory. The Arabs of the caravan saw my skill with camels, and asked if I would help them as far as Omdurman, which was three days to the north. I agreed, and left word with Abu Has.h.i.+m that I would be back to meet my brothers in less than a week.

"But on the first night out, the Arabs fell on me and put a collar around my neck and made me a slave. I believe they intended to keep me forever, as a camel-driver and a b.u.t.t-boy. But when we got near Omdurman, the Arabs went to a certain oasis and drew up not far from a caravan headed by a Turk. And here the usual sort of negotiation took place: The Arabs took the goods they wished to trade (mostly elephant tusks) and piled them up halfway between the two camps, then withdrew. The Turks then came out and inspected the goods, then made a pile of the stuff they wished to trade (tobacco, cloth, ingots of iron) and withdrew. It went back and forth like this for a long time. Finally I was added to the Arabs' pile. Then the Turks came out and took me away along with the Arabs' other goods, and the cursed Arabs did likewise with the goods of the Turks, and we went our separate ways. Eventually the Turks took me as far as Cairo, and there I tried to escape-for I knew that my clansmen would be at the Khan el-Khalili during a certain time of year, which is late August. Alas, I was caught because of the treachery of a fellow-slave. Later I tore a leg from a stool and beat him to death with it. The Turks could see that I would be trouble as long as I remained in Cairo, and so I was traded to an Algerian corsair-captain who had just rowed into port with a cargo of blonde Carmelite nuns."

Jack sighed. "I am never one to turn down a yarn. But I detect a certain repet.i.tive quality in these galley-slave narrations, which forces me to agree with (speaking of blonde slave-girls) dear Eliza, who took such a dim view of the whole practice."