It took all day to sort out and board the slaves. Many of whom were ecstatic and dancing about, and even more who were pensive and worried even though we had men who’d been former slaves themselves walking up and down the lines assuring them that they really would be free and that we would, if they so desired, let them work in exchange for their food and clothing.
As was our practise, we allowed those slaves who said they want to remain in Algiers, to return to their homes. And once again, a surprising number asked to be allowed to remain in Algiers as slaves. Each inevitably said it was too hard to start over someplace else; they preferred to be subservient and secure with the Moslems than free and destitute with their fellow Christians and Jews.
I was surprised to find myself understanding their thoughts. Change and uncertainty was difficult once one’s life settled into place.
******
Harold’s galley was the last of our galleys to leave the quay and the last to move through the harbour entrance and out into the Mediterranean. I was listening to the swishing of the oars and thinking about what to do next. It didn’t take long for me to decide. We’d given the princes long enough to think about buying the relics. It was time to sell them.
“Where now?” Harold asked me as we cleared the harbour entrance.
“Row for Cornwall.”
*** END OF THE BOOK ***
Martin truly hopes that you enjoyed reading Sea Warriors. If so, might I respectfully request that you leave a brief positive review on Amazon with as many stars as possible. Martin can be reached at [email protected]; he would greatly appreciate any specific edits or corrections you might suggest.
Martin Archer’s novels, including all the exciting and action-packed novels of The Company of Archers saga, are available as Kindle eBooks. Search Amazon for ‘Martin Archer fiction.’
Sample Pages from the Book One, The Archers.
…….We sometimes had to shoulder our way through the crowded streets and push people away as we walked to the church. Beggars and desperate women and children began pulling on our clothes and crying out to us. In the distance, black smoke was rising from somewhere in the city, probably from looters torching a house.
The doors to the front of the church were barred. Through the cracks in the wooden doors we could see the big wooden bar holding them shut.
“Come on. There must be a side door for the priests to use. There always is.”
We walked around to the side of the church and there it was. I banged on the door. After a while, a voice on the other side told us to go away.” The church is closed.”
“We’ve come from Lord Edmund to see the Bishop of Damascus,” I said.” Let us in.”
We could hear something being moved, and then an eye appeared at the peep hole in the door. A few seconds later, the door swung open and we hurried in.
The light inside the room was dim because the windows were shuttered.
Our greeter was a slender fellow with alert eyes who couldn’t be much more than a few inches over five feet tall. He studied us intently as he bowed us in and quickly shut and barred the door behind us. He seemed quite anxious.
“We’ve come from the Bekka Valley to see the Bishop of Damascus,” I said in the bastardized French dialect some are now calling English. And then Thomas repeated my words in Latin. Which is what I should have done in the first place.
“I shall tell him you are here and ask if he will receive you," the man replied.” I am Yoram, the Bishop’s scrivener; may I tell him who you are and why you are here?”
“I am William, the captain of the English archers, and this is Father Thomas, our priest. We are here to collect our pay for helping to defend Lord Edmund’s fief these past two years.”
“I shall inform His Grace of your arrival. Please wait here.”
What a strange accent. I wonder where the Bishop’s man is from?
Some time passed before the anxious little man returned. Whilst he was gone, we looked around the room. It was quite luxurious with a floor of stones instead of the mud floors one usually finds in churches.
It was also quite dark. The windows were covered with heavy wooden shutters and sealed shut with heavy wooden bars. What light there was came from cracks in the shutters and from some openings high on the walls above the shuttered windows. There was a somewhat tattered tribal carpet on the floor.
The man returned and gave us a courteous nod and bow.
“His Grace will see you now. Please follow me.”
The bishop’s clerk led us into a narrow, dimly lit passage with stone walls and a low ceiling. We’d taken but a few steps when he turned toward us and whispered a cryptic warning.
“Protect yourselves. The bishop doesn’t want to pay you. You're in mortal danger.”
The little man nodded when I held up my hand. Thomas and I needed to take a moment to get ourselves ready.
He watched closely as we prepared. When I gave a nod to let him know we were ready, he rewarded us with a tight smile and another nod before leading us onward with a determined look on his face.
A few seconds later, we turned another corner and came to a door. It opened into a large room with beamed ceilings more than six feet high. I know because I could stand upright after I bent my head to get through the entrance.
A portly, middle-aged man in a bishop’s robes was seated behind a table, and there was a bearded and rather formidable-looking guard with a sword in a wooden scabbard standing in front of the table. There was a closed chest on the table and a jumble of tools and chests in the corner covered by another old tribal rug. A broken chair sat on top of the pile.
The bishop smiled to show us his yellow teeth and beckoned us in. We could see him clearly despite the dim light coming in from the small window openings near the ceiling of the room.
After a moment the bishop stood and extended his hand over the table so we could kiss his ring. Thomas went first and kissed it. After Thomas stepped back I approached the offered ring and kissed it. Then I stepped back and towards the guard to make room for Thomas so he could re-approach the table. We were standing side by side as the bishop seated himself.
“What is it you want to see me about?” the bishop asked.
He said it with a sincere smile and leaned forward expectantly.
“I am William, captain of the late Lord Edmund’s English archers, and this is Father Thomas, our priest and confessor.” And my older brother, though I don’t think I will mention it at the moment.
“How can that be? Another man was commanding the archers when I visited Lord Edmund earlier this year and we made our arrangements.”
“He is dead. He took an arrow in the arm and it turned purple and rotted until he died. Another took his place and now he’s dead also. Now I’m in command”
The bishop crossed himself and mumbled a brief prayer under his breath. Then he looked at me expectantly and listened intently.
“We’ve come to get the coins Lord Edmund entrusted to you to pay us. We looked for you before we left the valley, but Beaufort Castle was about to fall and you’d already gone. So we’ve come here to collect our pay.”
“Of course, of course. I have it right here in the chest.
"Aran,” he said nodding to the burley soldier standing next to me, “tells me there are eighteen of you. Is that correct?”
And how would he be knowing that?
“Yes, Eminence, that is correct.”
“Well then, four gold Constantinople coins for each man is seventy-two. You shall have them here and now.”
“No, Eminence, that is not correct.”
I reached inside my jerkin, pulled out the company’s copy of the contract with Lord Edmund, and laid the parchment on the desk in front of him.
As I placed it on the table, I tapped it with my finger and casually stepped further to the side and even closer to his swordsman. Thomas stepped into my place in front of the Bishop and nodded his agreement confirming it was indeed our contract.
/>
“The contract calls for four gold bezant coins from Constantinople for each of one hundred ninety-two men and two more coins to the company for each man who is killed or loses his eyes or his balls,” I said to the bishop.” That is one thousand and twenty-six bezants in all. I know you have our money, because I was present when Lord Edmund gave you the coins and you agreed to pay them to us at the end of our contract. So here we are. We want our bezants.”
“Oh yes. So you are. So you are. Well you shall certainly get what is due you. God wills it.”
I sensed the swordsman stiffen as the bishop said the words and opened the chest. The bishop reached in and took a big handful of bezants in his left hand and placed them on the table.
He spread the coins out and motioned Thomas forward to help him count as he reached back in to fetch another handful. I stepped further to the left and even closer to the guard so Thomas would have plenty of room to step forward to help the bishop count.
Everything happened at once when Thomas leaned forward to start counting the coins. The bishop reached again into his money chest as if to get another handful. This time he came out with a dagger and lunged across the table to drive it into Thomas’ chest with a satisfied grunt.
End of Sample Pages
Please read more. The Archers and the other action-packed eBooks in this great saga of medieval life are available exclusively on Kindle. You can find them by going to your Amazon website and searching for Martin Archer books.
Martin respectfully requests a favourable review on Amazon and your suggestions as to how he might edit to update and improve these novels. He can be contacted at [email protected]
Amazon eBooks in the exciting and action-packed Archers saga:
The Archers
The Archer's Castle
The Archer's War
The Archer's Return
Rescuing the Hostages
Kings and Crusaders
The Archers' Gold
The Missing Treasure
Castling the King
Sea Warriors
THANK YOU! /S/ Martin Archer
Sea Warriors Page 23