Mamelukes

by Jerry Pournelle

  Whatever the wind strength, the waves didn’t look dangerous from the decks of the Queen of Heaven, but Saxon thought he would hate to be out in that in a small sailboat. I’ll have to look things up when I get my laptop running. A lot of what I need to know will be in one or another edition of the Britannica.

  That thought brought up another—more of a worry, than just a “thought,” he admitted to himself. He’d made certain he had at least one printed copy of the Britannica, and there was hard copy of several other sources, as well. But an awful lot of what he had was only on CD-ROM. CD-ROMs were wonderful, and he had just about every book ever written. There was a whole course on sailing ships on one of them, for example. But they weren’t going to do him any good without power. Still, there seemed to be plenty of wind here, so if it held up out at the—islands? archipelago?—there ought to be enough for the windmill to keep the laptops charged. The disassembled windmill and its generator took up more than a quarter of container two. The bicycle generator was in three, this one, along with some laptops and a lot of CD-ROMs. Somewhere in there was an inventory of what was in all the containers, but Saxon hadn’t tried to find it since their arrival. Time enough for that when they were settled.

  The containers had been sealed back in the clearing where they landed. They’d all agreed that once they had retrieved their personal gear and weapons, they wouldn’t reopen the containers until they were settled in Nikeis and all three of them were present.

  Sandori had used a melon to demonstrate her pistol to Caesare Avanti. He hadn’t seemed surprised. Another reason to think they’d seen star weapons before. But they’d been astonished when Haskins and Saxon had shown the capabilities of their personal radios to communicate without shouting.

  “There’s a lot more,” Sandori had said. But that had been enough to get Avanti moving on bringing in wagons and oxen.

  “Keep him guessing,” Sandori had said. “Look, these people are mostly merchants. They know knowledge is valuable, and they’re sure we know a lot they don’t. That makes us valuable.”

  “Don’t hurt that he’s a right handsome stud, though,” Haskins had answered. That had brought a blush.

  But she’s right, Saxon thought. We aren’t strong enough to just bull our way through. We need to deal with civilized people, and these seem to be just that. But how do I establish contact with Captain Galloway? And do I let them know that I want to?

  Dinner was in a large cabin that served both as the captain’s quarters and a wardroom. Saxon was surprised to have an appetite despite the ship’s motion. Maybe I’ll get through this without getting sick after all. Maybe. Captain Fieschi tried to keep a conversation going, but the wind and sea noise and Saxon’s inadequacy in Italian made that difficult, and after a while they ate in silence.

  The stew was reasonably tasty and the bread quite fresh.

  “Baked today?” Saxon asked. Captain Fieschi shrugged.

  “Probably in town,” Haskins said. “Never saw them bake on board ship. Galley’s pretty primitive. Hot water, boiled cereal, and stews, but I never saw any baking.”

  “So how do I take a pee?” Saxon asked, and Haskins grinned.

  “Lee rail, there’s a place just for that,” he said. “Took me a while to get the hang of it.”

  “Better show me now,” Saxon said. His stomach growled and he tasted bile. “Right now, I guess.”

  “Sure.” Haskins stood and bowed to the captain. Saxon noted that and bowed as well, then followed Haskins out onto the poop deck forward of the stern cabin. Haskins led him down steps to the main deck. Most of the oarsmen were seated in small blanket-covered groups, talking and throwing dice, but a few were stretched out asleep on the deck.

  “No chains,” Saxon said.

  “Nope. All free men,” Haskins said. “Some of the professional oarsmen make good money. If anybody has galley slaves it’s not the Signory. Just over here, Bart. There’s one on each side. You go to the one on the lee side. That’s the opposite of the windward side. Just now it’s the starboard side, which is on your right when you’re looking forward, just in case you don’t know.”

  Saxon nodded.

  “Thanks. Starboard and—port?”

  Haskins shrugged.

  “Port in English, but here it’s starboard or something like that, starboard’s close enough, and babordo. Babordo means left. We call them starboard and port in English. Starboard and babordo, forward and aft. Those don’t change like windward and leeward. Just now leeward’s the starboard side.”

  He pointed to a small opening in the ship’s railings where a platform jutted out a couple of feet over the ocean. Ropes and rail posts made it relatively safe and easy to use.

  “Thanks, Cal. Hate to do this in winter,” Saxon said.

  “Maybe them as have cabins use buckets when it’s cold out.” Haskins shrugged again. “Bart, what the hell are we going to do when we get settled onto that island? I expect it’s easier getting to this place than getting away from it.”

  “We try to find a way to get word to Captain Galloway that we’re here and looking for him, I think,” Saxon said.

  Haskins nodded.

  “You agree that it’s best to work with Galloway?” Saxon asked.

  “Bart, I’m leaving that up to you. Whatever you say is okay with me. You like Galloway, that’s fine with me.”

  “Glad you came?”

  “Beats being on the streets,” Haskins said. “Feels like I may be some use here. Maybe. Sure better chance of that here than in the Tenderloin.”

  Saxon considered that and decided that he agreed. He wasn’t sure he knew what he was doing, and he hoped to hell Agzaral and Lee hadn’t picked the wrong man, but at least he had a purpose now. A purpose and a future, and that was a lot more than he’d had in San Francisco. He nodded to himself and carefully climbed out onto the platform. It was more secure than it looked, but he’d hate to have to use it in stronger seas. He finished his task, and found there was a bucket with a line on it next to the rail opening. He used it to dip up some water and washed his hands.

  “Now you wash down the area you used,” Haskins said. “They don’t know about germs here, I think, but they do know they don’t like stink.”

  “Don’t blame them. Cal, I don’t know exactly what we do next, or how. What I want to do is find this Galloway, but I don’t know how to do that.”

  “Yeah. We don’t have a lot of choices,” Haskins said. “Least this outfit has people and ships to move all our stuff. No sign of anyone trying to steal it, either. They seem friendly enough. Reckon that’s Spirit’s doing. She’s sure one good terms with that Caesare Avanti, and Avanti’s daddy is a big cheese over there.”

  “But you don’t know if they’re sleeping together?”

  “Like I said, if I had to bet, I’d say they were, but I don’t know anything. Just everyone’s damned friendly. And they don’t care that I’m Black. Takes ’em a minute to get used to it, I don’t think they ever saw a Black man before, but once they do it’s okay. I think I like this place.”

  * * *

  The boy said something in Italian, realized he was not understood, and switched to the mainland trade language. He strained to keep his voice calm.

  “Captain Fieschi wishes to speak with you on deck,” he said, and Saxon frowned.

  “Now?”

  “Yes, Signor, you and the other signor, please.”

  “Right away,” Saxon said. He put his head into the other stateroom. “Cal, we’re wanted on deck.”

  “Roger that.”

  They went up to the poop deck. Captain Fieschi pointed towards the west, where the True Sun was setting.

  “If you look closely, Signor, you will see there are two ships on a course to intercept us.”

  Saxon brought out his binoculars. He could make out few details. Two ships, galleys, one big triangular sail on each but oars dipping at what Saxon thought was a slow but steady beat.

  “Whose?” Saxon asked.
>
  “I do not know. They are not ours,” Captain Fieschi said. “What are those marvels?”

  “Binoculars. You don’t know that word. Lenses? Make things look closer.”

  Fieschi looked doubtful.

  “May I look through them?”

  Saxon put the binocular strap around Fieschi’s neck.

  “Be careful, they break. You look through here, and use this rocker to change the focus—move that back and forth until you see best.”

  Fieschi looked puzzled at first, then disappointed, then startled.

  “I see!” He lowered the binoculars, stared, then raised them again. He did this several times. “Do you have many of these?” he asked.

  “Several.”

  “They will be immensely valuable,” Fieschi said. “Now I understand why the Signory were willing to pay so much to lease my ship to convey you safely to Nikeis.”

  He went back to inspecting the distant ships.

  “Who are they?” Saxon asked.

  “No insignia on the sails, no flags. I think pirates.”

  “Pirates,” Saxon said. “Are they dangerous? Can they catch us?”

  Fieschi shrugged. “Normally I would say no to both questions,” he said. “Queen of Heaven is well able to defend herself. But with that large—container—on deck, it is not so certain. And we are much slower.”

  “I see. So what will you do?”

  “Try to stay out of their reach, unless you request otherwise,” Fieschi said. “Unfortunately, our destination is well known, and altering course to run before the wind would put us downwind of Nikeis. That container is a hamper with the wind off the babordo quarter, but I do not know by how much. I am certain that we will be a great deal slower than they are when trying to climb into the wind.”

  “And if we can’t outrun them?”

  “Then we fight, of course.” Fieschi shrugged again. “I was hoping you would have weapons to assist in that.”

  “Cal? You understand what he said?”

  “Some of it. Pirates?”

  “Right on. We may have to fight. You’re going to be better at that than I am.”

  “Which ain’t all that great,” Haskins said in English. “I was never much of a rifleman. Qualified with the M-16 all right in basic, so I know what I’m supposed to do. But—”

  Fieschi had been listening to them without understanding.

  “You can do nothing now?” he asked.

  “Good grief no,” Haskins said. “How far you reckon they are from us?”

  Saxon squinted.

  “Couple of miles?”

  He took back the binoculars from Captain Fieschi. They’ve got some kind of markings in there I can use to find distances, but I don’t know how to do that, he thought. Principle’s easy enough, wish I’d thought to take a lesson or something. Oh, well. He looked again.

  “More like double that, I think,” Haskins said. “Too far for me. When it’s a couple of hundred yards, let me know.” he frowned. “They likely to have those catapult things? How far can they shoot?”

  Saxon struggled with languages but managed to ask Fieschi, then frowned at the answer.

  “Sorry, didn’t understand.”

  Fieschi thought and tried again.

  “Nine lengths of this ship? But not with much accuracy above three lengths of this ship. That is what we can do with our ballistae. Theirs will not be as strong unless they have captured one of our ships. Or a Roman ship,” he added begrudgingly.

  “Cal, he says they shoot about four hundred fifty yards max, maybe a hundred and fifty with any accuracy.”

  Haskins nodded.

  “Well, we can shoot farther, but I wouldn’t bet on hitting nothing closer than a hundred yards. Maybe not that far. I ain’t no marksman, Bart.”

  “That ought to be good enough,” Saxon said. “They don’t want to set fire to us, they want to capture us. We let them shoot first. If they don’t shoot we let them get close enough you can hit someone. If they still look hostile, then you spray down their poop deck. That ought to do it.”

  “Yeah,” Haskins said. He didn’t sound very sure of himself and he glanced back at the unknown ships. “Maybe nothing will come of it. They don’t look like they’re closing much.”

  “So does that mean we can outrun them?” Saxon asked.

  “It may.” Captain Fieschi sounded doubtful. “But it may simply be that they choose not to close with us, instead. Queen of Heaven is a formidable ship, Signor. Our ballistae crews are well trained. The rowers have weapons and most of them are trained in their use. That is without your star weapons.” He indicated Saxon’s holstered pistol. “I would not care to be the pirate that attempts to take this ship.”

  “There are two,” Saxon observed.

  “Yes, and if they are accustomed to working together that could present problems,” Fieschi said. “We will not maneuver well with that container on the deck. Is it your advice that we avoid contact with them?”

  I hadn’t thought I was giving advice, Saxon thought. Interesting. Was this some kind of council of war?

  “Yes,” he said. “If that’s possible, we should avoid them.”

  “I will have the rowers stay ready. If those ships begin to approach we will add their power to the wind.”

  Saxon had been watching the oncoming ships.

  “I think they just slowed the beat,” he said. He chanted slowly. “Dip. Pull. Return. Yes, I’m certain they’ve slowed the pace.”

  Fieschi stared into the setting sun.

  “You are correct. They need the oars to keep up with us, I think. So it would appear their ships are slower than Queen of Heaven, despite the container. On this heading with this wind.”

  Dusk came quickly, leaving the evil red glow of the Demon Star.

  “I will set three to watch,” Fieschi said. “The demon will give enough light to see if they come closer. You may as well go to bed.”

  Sure, Saxon thought. I’m on an alien world being chased by pirates. No point in losing any sleep over it.

  * * *

  He slept badly until near dawn, then managed to get into a deeper sleep with strange dreams he couldn’t quite remember. It was bright outside when he woke. He went up on deck and stared west, then took out his binoculars and searched the horizon.

  “They are gone,” Fieschi said from behind him.

  “Did we outrun them?”

  “They did not try to catch us,” Fieschi said. “The lookouts tell me they followed until shortly after dawn, then turned to the northwest.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “Yes, Signor, but it remains disturbing that pirate ships should follow an armed ship of the Serene Republic even for a short time. Their usual concern is to avoid us. I was hired to be the supply ship for a squadron that chases pirates before the Signory leased this ship to transport your—containers—and without that”—he pointed to the big metal box—“and in this wind it would have been no difficulty to catch one of them, close as they approached. They are bolder than I have found them to be in the past.”

  “Why would that be?” Saxon asked.

  “I believe they have heard stories of the great value of our cargo,” Fieschi said. “They wish to be sure of our destination, and are now certain we are bound for Nikeis. Signor, I have heard stories that tempt even me! Your lenses—”

  “Binoculars.”

  “Binoculars.” The captain said the word again. “Your binoculars alone would be of great value. Imagine being able to examine a ship from far away while they are as yet unaware of any details about Queen of Heaven! I have heard of such instruments in the hands of the Warlord Rick, but I never thought to see any. And that weapon your man carries, I presume it is what they call in Drantos a battle rifle. I have heard that it can strike down an enemy far beyond crossbow ranges. And these are but what we can see! The pirates must be tempted by the prospects of such booty!”

  “More than you are.”

  “Of course mor
e than me, Signor. I have a contract with the Serene Republic. My home is in Nikeis. I have traveled to many places, but I would not care to live anywhere else.”

  Interesting, Saxon thought. Very interesting.

  * * *

  Nikeis was well in sight by midmorning.

  Saxon studied the island complex with his binoculars. At first there was nothing to see, just an irregular shape above the sea. As they got closer he could see that Nikeis was bigger than he had expected it to be. There was a lot more than one island. First there was a low stretch of land a few feet above water, no more than a sand bar. It had low wooden buildings and docks. Crews dried nets on some of the sand bars, but there was not much other activity. Beyond that were grassy marshes, and past those was a complex of higher islands. One large island rose no more than twenty feet out of the sea, and was entirely flat. It was covered with grain fields and some barns. Farms, but not houses. Other islands were covered with houses. The main island, irregularly shaped, had a low shelf at sea level then rose steeply to a plateau nearly a hundred feet above the sea. The whole main island seemed to be a single city, and there were palaces and houses on the other islands near it. Further away was another farm island.

  Stone forts stood guard on islands near the channel entrances. Saxon examined them curiously. The fortifications were small in area but surrounded by treacherous sandbars. Each fort was several stories high, all built of stone. Otherwise, the marshes and sand bars weren’t well developed, but the land on the real islands was either farmland or covered with ornate multistoried buildings with balconies, all painted in bright colors. There were banners and flags everywhere. The True Sun was high overhead. Nearly noon, Saxon thought.

  Two small ships, ten oars to each side, came racing out of a channel between two of the stone forts. When they came near, Queen of Heaven turned into the wind and Captain Fieschi shouted something to the master of the first boat. They conversed at length, then the two galleys turned and raced away towards the city. They raised bright ribbons to the masthead and looked very festive as they went.

  After Queen of Heaven turned into the wind, the crew quickly furled the sails as the rowers unlashed their oars. When the oarsmen were ready they steered towards the narrow passage that led into the interior of the island complex. Captain Fieschi stood by the steersman and quietly gave instructions.