FIFTY-THREE

FALLON AND AJA HAD BEEN LED AWAY AT DAWN TOWARDS THE MOLE TO carry stone by cart to the curved tip. The breakwater was being enlarged, presumably so even more cannons could be placed there. Fallon and Aja were in chains, their legs bound together.

The manacles on Fallon’s ankles rubbed the skin off in very little time, and a quick glance at Aja’s ankles showed they were bloody, as well.

It was still early morning.

Fallon looked at the city of Algiers rising up the hill to the south, and he could make out men and women walking in the narrow streets. The sounds of camels braying and goats bleating floated down to the jetty, and he thought he could even smell strong coffee.

The pilot boat was on station outside the harbor, its flags and ribbons in full force in the stout breeze. Fallon recognized it as a French galiote, or something very like it, a smallish ship with four crew and four sets of oars meant to carry light cargo in its relatively shallow holds. At the tip of its lateen sail a red streamer blew off to the sky. At night it berthed at the quay and was tied down snug before curfew but, like the slaves, it was up working at dawn.

As surreptitiously as he could, Fallon scanned the harbor and counted the ships anchored there. There were quite a few corsairs mixed in with the fishing vessels, while at the quay a Turkish flagged vessel was just leaving. It was massive, easily one of the biggest merchant vessels Fallon had ever seen. No doubt it traded throughout the Mediterranean carrying livestock and lumber and all manner of mercantile items from Tangier to the Levant. As it was warped away it revealed a ship lying beyond it at the quay, and Fallon involuntarily jerked his head back in surprise and nudged Aja to have a look. It was a large xebec with a distinctive snake’s head at the bow.

Serpent!

Fallon could see stores being brought aboard the ship even as repairs seemed to be in progress on the starboard side, no doubt due to Cully’s broadside. There was no sign of Zabana that Fallon could see, but the ship was quite far away. He would be around.

Fallon wondered momentarily if the presence of Serpent would change his nascent plan to escape. Only if Zabana discovered he was a prisoner, he decided. He thought of the guillotine on board the ship and wondered idly how often it had been used, but before he could dwell further the overseer grunted and Fallon turned his attention back to the rocks.

“Zabana Reis,” said Mustapha Pasha, “you have brought back slaves for me, which is good. But you have lost half your janissaries, which is not good. How did this happen?”

Zabana had to be careful how he answered, not knowing what the British schooner captain had already told the dey. He could not take a chance on a lie.

“We came upon an American merchantman near the Strait. We were both becalmed so we rowed to intercept her. But a British ship was riding the breeze down to us and came to the American’s aid. There was a huge battle and we took what slaves we could, but the wicked British fired grapeshot into our janissaries and killed many of them in one broadside. We took several Americans and one British boy.”

“Yes,” said the dey contemptuously, “if you had known the British schooner carried gold perhaps you would have fought harder.”

Zabana felt the venom in the dey’s words. Gold!

“I have interviewed the British captain,” continued the imperious dey, “whose name is Fallon. He entered Algiers with his second mate on foot after your battle and was found walking around the city. Reason has convinced him to send word to his ship to bring the gold to us.” Here the dey smiled; it was one of the few times Zabana had ever seen his teeth.

“You must order your corsairs to let the ship pass. Then when it is in the harbor you will have your second chance to take her. It should not be so difficult then.”

Zabana felt his face burn at these last words, but he could say nothing, make no excuses, so he remained silent, his eyes blazing. This was the basis of the dey’s power, he knew, manipulation and humiliation.

Seeing Zabana’s face the dey added one last stab.

“Zabana Reis, I will send you more janissaries. Use them wisely and carefully. They are not inexhaustible, nor is my patience. And do not think to harm the British captain, if it is in your mind to take out your own impotence on him. He may be important in some way to lure his ship into the harbor. I want him alive and willing when the time comes.”

Zabana’s body clenched in embarrassment. The dey’s insinuations and humiliations had wounded him deeply and he vowed he would have his revenge.

But first, Fallon. He would protect him, yes. But then he would kill him in the worst way imaginable.