ZABANA BALANCED EASILY ON SERPENT, A LARGE XEBEC WITH TWENTY-four 12-pounders that served as his flagship. The ship had three masts with lateen sails and a bank of oars on each side for slaves. But the most distinguishing feature was the long bowsprit, around which was wrapped a carved wooden snake, its evil head at the tip. Glowing within the head were painted red eyes meant to terrify enemy ships.
The janissaries, however, were the corsair’s secret weapon. These were the elite soldiers of the Ottoman Empire, swaggering and utterly fearless and seemingly immune from pain. Almost two hundred of them sat about Serpent’s deck polishing their scimitars and cleaning their muskets. They were commanded by their agha, or chief, and some number of them sailed on all of Zabana’s corsairs.
The janissaries wore tall red caps, with long, sashed robes and tight canvass breeches and iron-heeled, red slippers. Sometimes they talked with one another, sometimes not. Mostly they tended to their weapons or gambled, smoking and looking out at the passing sea with hooded eyes above drooping black mustaches.
Serpent’s sailing complement was normally close to three hundred, but Zabana had rationed some of the crew to other ships. It was a constant management process to shuffle crews and recruit more, for he had over 60 corsairs at sea at any given time.
Zabana had contemplated the dey’s orders, what was actually said and what was said between the lines. Though Zabana was powerful and wicked, the dey was more powerful and more wicked, and Zabana knew that, should his corsairs fail to bring in prizes, he might well be made to disappear. Though xebecs were not really suitable for open ocean, he decided to send his little navy far away, up the coast of Europe to Holland and Denmark and perhaps Sweden to raid villages where the women were fair and beautiful, and also west through the Strait to prowl off the coast of North Africa with orders to take ships at sea. If those ships were American, or even British, and could be taken quickly and easily, who would know? Things happened at sea. The ships could be sunk and the prisoners hidden below decks and brought secretly back into Algiers.
Taking the dey’s hint, he’d decided to go to sea himself. Serpent had provisioned over the next several days and then weighed before first light, Zabana being anxious to be away from port, away from his garden, as the dey had said. In truth, it felt good to be at sea again. He had his beheading cart, and it pleased him to see the fear that it caused in the crew’s eyes.
Zabana was neither short nor tall, with black hair and beard and the dark looks of a gypsy. His eyes were hooded, making him seem as if he was almost asleep. But, in fact, he was always alert, his mind constantly weighing options and risks and consequences, seeing life in three dimensions. He had a notoriously short temper and turned violent quickly, and yet he spoke in a barely audible voice, perhaps to conceal his lisp.
He said as little as necessary to command the ship; and those who did not strictly obey his orders were punished with the loss of a finger. A worse offense meant castration. And there was always beheading as the final punishment.
With luck, Zabana would return home with prizes in tow. He thought of the admonition he’d sent forth to all his corsairs: don’t come back without a prize. He wanted his captains to be afraid for their lives. Or their fingers. Or something else.