“A babe for the plucking.”
And her captain thinks himself safe from the Barbary pirates, Kamal thought. He climbed the wooden steps to the wheel. The Heliotrope’s sails billowed white and full in the wind, and even from this distance Kamal could see her troughing deeply in the waves, her hold filled with cargo.
“Remember, Droso, no killing.” He had prepared to take an outgoing Parese ship, and thus had brought two other xebecs with him. But the Heliotrope had been away from the Mediterranean and did not know of her danger.
Droso regarded the young Bey with a mixture of affection and doubt. He was breaking tribute, but he was not planning to destroy those who could tell of his deed.
“My men will only protect themselves, highness,” he said.
Sordello, captain of the Heliotrope, swung up onto the quarterdeck at a yell from his first mate, Mr. Dibbs.
“What is it, Allan?”
“I don’t believe it, sir,” Allan said. “Barbary pirates, and it looks like they are closing on us.”
Sordello wheeled to starboard. Two xebecs, each boasting three masts with the black flags of Algiers flying at their peaks, were slicing smoothly through the water toward them.
“Jesus,” he said under his breath. “It must be a mistake, Allan. Aye, perhaps a new rais.” Sordello shouted to his cabin boy, Marco, “Fetch our passage papers from my strongbox.”
“We can’t outrun them, sir,” Allan said, fighting a knot of fear in his belly.
“I don’t intent to. We will allow them to board us, and present our papers. No heroics, Allan, and raise a white flag quickly. We are too close to home to risk the fools firing at us.”
“Aye, captain,” Allan said, releasing the wheel to Sordello.
Sordello hoped his feelings did not show on his face. One bloody week from Genoa, and this. Never in his five years as captain of the Earl of Clare’s ships had he been approached by xebecs. The earl’s ships were well known. Am I and all my men to end up stinking slaves in Algiers? He shook away the image of his wife, Maria, smiling at him in farewell. He gazed toward the far horizon, away from the swiftly approaching xebecs. There was another Italian ship, sailing as impudently as the Heliotrope had but five minutes before, secure in the safety of tribute. But both xebecs were heading directly toward him, seemingly oblivious of the other merchant ship. He felt hair prickle at the back of his neck.
He saw a huge man standing at the railing of the closer pirate ship, his coarse black hair whipping about his heavy face. Another man, tall and fair-haired, dressed in white wool trousers and a full-sleeved white shirt, appeared to direct him from the upper deck near the wheel. A score of privateers, armed with scimitars, lined the rail, ready to board his ship. Sordello felt the ship heel to starboard as the grappling ropes thrown from the xebec caught the railings. He took a sheaf of passage papers from Marco, straightened his shoulders, and strode down from the quarterdeck to meet the captain. His sailors were milling nervously about, their faces drawn with fear. He waited for the two ships to draw together.
The giant man gave a shout, and a score of men swarmed onto the Heliotrope’s deck.
“We fly the white flag,” Sordello shouted as one of them lunged toward him.
“Hold, you fool,” Droso shouted.
Sordello felt like a stunted child when at last the captain stood before him, his legs spread wide on the tilting deck.
“You are the captain?” Droso asked.
“Yes,” Sordello said in as calm a voice as he could manage. “There is a mistake. We sail under safe passage. We are under tribute.”
Droso shrugged. “You may discuss that with his highnes
s.” He tossed his black head toward the fair-haired man in white still aboard the xebec.
“I have our papers.”
“Show them to his highness,” Droso said shortly. “You will tell your men to behave, and no one will be killed. Most of us will remain aboard to bring the ship into port. You, captain, will come with me.”
His highness? What the devil did the Dey of Algiers want with him? Or was it one of his beys? Had the earl not paid tribute? The thought was too appalling to consider. He clutched the papers tightly in his hand and followed the giant captain to the xebec.
“Captain.”
Sordello turned at Mr. Dibb’s voice. “There will be no harm done to anyone, Allan. I will straighten out this mess. Do as the corsairs bid you.”
“His highness is below,” Droso said when Sordello stepped aboard the xebec, and gave him a light shove in the back.
He made his way through the hatch and down a narrow companionway. The huge man stopped before a closed door and rapped lightly. At the sound of a voice calling, “Enter,” Droso opened the door and pushed Sordello inside.