"Men do not like puzzles, Barnabas. They prefer categories. It is far easier to slip a piece of information into a known slot than to puzzle over the unknown."
"You are not a Moor? But you are a Moslem?"
"Many who follow Mohammed are not Moors, nor even Arabs. They were a conquering people, those Arabs who came out of their deserts after the death of Mohammed, and they carried the sword and fire to many lands, including Persia, one of the oldest, and I, who now call myself Sakim, came from a far place known as Khurasan, from the city of Nisphapur.
"It was the home of my father, and of my father's father as well, and who knows how many others? We were scholars, sometimes of the law, often of medicine, always of philosophy.
"In the study of medicine we were far advanced, for were we not the heirs of Greece? But we had learned from India as well, and from Cathay. In Bagdad alone we once had sixty-five hospitals divided into wards for the separate treatments of various ills and diseases, with running water in every room ... and that was in the eighth century ... eight hundred years ago."
"So what happened?" Burke asked skeptically. "I have seen none of this great medicine."
"Genghis Khan came ... you have heard of him? And something like a hundred years later, Timur the Lame. He who in the West is called Tamerlane.
"You think you have seen war ... Timur made pyramids of skulls and the streets ran red with blood ... several times over a hundred thousand were put to the sword. No man truly knows how many, but he killed all ... at first.
"Later, when he became wiser, he tried to save the artisans and the scholars, but too many had died. The hospitals were destroyed, the books burned, the teachers slain.
"Those two conquerors set civilization back five hundred years, my friends, and only a few survived. Several were ancestors of mine who fled into the hidden fastnesses of the Pamirs, and others into the far desert, the Takla-makan.
"There they treated the ill, they taught their sons and grandsons, and in time returned to Nisphapur and to Marv and to Meshed.
"In my time I studied in Nisphapur and in Marv, then in Isfahan and Constantinople, but by that time the urge was upon me to travel to the westward, so I set sail from Constantinople for Tripoli. Our ship was taken by pirates ...
I was enslaved ... was taken by other pirates then freed, and when we met I was a sailor, only wishing to go home."
"And now you are here," Abigail said.
"I am here," he said simply, "and would be used. My skills rust. I thought at first to say nothing, but when Wa-ga-su was brought in, I thought then to speak, but hesitated."
"We have little medicine," I said.
"There are herbs and there are minerals. I can make my own. Lately I have seen herbs in the swamps and along the hillsides like those I know."
"Collect them, then," I said "Gather your herbs. Find your minerals. What help you need, we will give. By the look of today there will be many times when a man is needed who knows of medicine."
I stood up. "It is a bright day, and much is to be done. Be careful, Sakim.
There will be Indians about. I give you one other chore ..." I pointed at Lila.
"Teach her what you can. She knows much of herbs. She will help you."
When Pim stood beside me in the yard he said, "Do you think he lies?"
"No ... I believe him. There are stranger lives men have led. We are fortunate, Pim. We have a surgeon, a physician! No doubt he will keep some of us alive. If he saves only one, it is good. Sakim and I sailed together before this, and he proved a good man. And loyal."
Each day now was a day of work, and Wa-ga-su was quick to see how little we knew, and how much we needed to know. He led us to likely spots in which to find nuts, berries, and edible roots.
In several places along the banks of streams we found thickets of blackberries, dewberries, and persimmons. We picked and picked until every receptacle we had was filled. Here and there we found nuts, although the season was still early for many of them.
Wa-ga-su drew in the sand a picture of his country for us, a vast area drained by the Catawba River, and lying between two other rivers. It lay at the farthest point, right at the foot of the mountains, and perhaps into the mountains themselves. That he did not make clear.
He showed us how to add the meal of ground nuts to thicken soup or stew, using walnuts, chestnuts, or hickory nuts, and how to search for and find clams along the shores.
John Tilly, who had been in command aboard the Abigail, went in a boat to search for clams and to catch fish out on the sound and along the sandy shores.
Suddenly Watkins came to me. "Barnabas." He spoke softly not to alarm the others. "Tilly's comin' back. He's comin' fast!"
We hurried to the river where Tilly had gone at once io the Abigail, dropping off two men. As we waited, he came to the landing with the other two.
"Ship off shore," he said shortly, "I made her out with my glass. The Jolly Jack ... of London."
Nick Bardle ...
My old enemy was returned. Once he had kidnapped me, several times had tried to kill me, and he had killed Brian Tempany, Abigail's father.
I went to look.
His vessel was not large but was heavily gunned, and highly maneuverable. He would have a large crew, perhaps three times the men we could muster.
"Tilly," I said, "get the Abigail in good position then prepare for battle."
We had six guns in the fort and we brought them all to bear on the river, leaving only the swivel-guns and our light arms to repel an overland attack.
Abigail looked pale and frightened. "Don't worry," I advised, "we'll handle him."
She nodded, but I could see she was worried, but no less than I, for if the attack stretched out too long we should lose much good working time before the cold weather set in. And during the past days, some of the leaves had begun to turn and there was frost upon the lowlands, and the morning mists were thicker.
I looked downstream where we would see Bardle's sails first, and I felt a little shiver go through me. I, too, was afraid, for it was no longer as it once had been, when only I could suffer from my mistakes. Now there were others, these who had entrusted themselves to me.
"I am not thinking of me," she said suddenly, "nor of you only. I am thinking of your son."
"My son ... ?" I looked at her stupidly. "What did you say? My son?"
I am sorely afraid I shouted those last words, and they all turned, those who stood along the wall watching, those who manned the guns.
And then as realization dawned, a cheer went up.
My son!
"Cap'n?" It was Jublain. "Here she comes!"
Her masts showed against the sky above the green of the forest, a thinning forest, where the leaves had begun to fall. Her masts, then her bow, then a fores'l.
"Tom," I called to Watkins. "Your gun only ... fire!"
Chapter 19
Watkins put his match to the touch-hole. There was an instant of pause, then the gun belched flame and smoke, leaping as if to spring, from its carriage, and we saw the ball strike the butt of the bowsprit and scatter splinters in every direction. There was a great splitting and a crash as the yard came down and the bowsprit hung all askew, held only by the rigging.
Taking our shot for a signal, the gunners aboard the Abigail let go with a four-gun broadside that caught the Jolly Jack head on.
Then, with the Jack broadside to us, we let go with the remainder of the fort's guns, only an instant before the Jack fired its own broadside.
A momentary advantage had been ours. Bardle had apparently only seen the Abigail, and if he knew of the fort's existence he did not guess it was armed as it was from the guns of the ships we had taken.
Watkins' first shot had taken them unawares, throwing them off just in time to permit the Abigail to fire.
The glory of the sunlit morning was blasted by cannon-fire, and the beauty of the oncoming ship was shattered by our fire. Before the powder smoke obscured the scene I sa
w a great section of the Jack's rail burst into fragments, and another ripping a hole in a sail. Others fell harmlessly into the water.
Great clouds of smoke billowed up from their guns and ours. There were splintering crashes, and the awful red lightning of the guns mingled with the thunder of them and the whine of flying splinters and the shouts and screams of men.
Through a haze of smoke I glimpsed the Jack falling back, guns firing. Suddenly the thunder of the guns ceased and there was an unbelievable silence. And then groans, cries, and calls for help.
Our massive gate was battered to splinters. One gun had been blasted from its carriage, and I saw Abigail and Lila bending over a man who lay sprawled on the ground. Then I saw another, as they ran from the first to the second.
Two men were being helped down ladders, both wounded. Another man, his arm dangling, was going down a ladder by himself.
Through the smoke I could see the topm'sts of the Abigail, and as the smoke lifted could see she had been hulled at least twice and was down by the head.
Men were working about the deck, so some at least had survived. Even as I looked, one of the guns fired another shot.
Jublain came to me. "Two dead, Barnabas, and seven injured ... one of them seriously."
He waved a hand at the gate. "I've started repairs, and we'll need them quickly if he tries to come back. I think the Abigail is in bad shape."
Jeremy King came up the ladder. "Jeremy, take Wa-ga-su. He can probably guide you through the swamp to a point where you can see the Jolly Jack. Take a telescope. I want a report on her condition as soon as possible. Don't let yourself be seen."
Through my own glass I studied the Abigail, and it gave me a twinge to see her.
I could never stand to see a fine ship damaged, for they are things of such beauty, white sails against the sky, prow lifting and dipping in the sea. They are living things.
One of the holes in her hull was barely above the waterline, the other higher, probably in the gundeck.
"Recharge all guns," I said. "Two gunners stand by, the rest get to work helping with the gate."
I went down the ladder to the common room. Sakim was there at work with Lila.
One man already had his arm set and was sitting to one side with a glass of ale in his hand. He grinned at me. "Good fight!" he said.
The only seriously injured man was a youngster. A fragment of metal from a bursting shell had ripped the side of his neck, another piece imbedded itself in his thigh. He had bled badly.
He looked up at me. 'Tm sorry," he said.
"Sorry? You did very well," I said. "Sakim will take care of you."
It had needed no more than a minute or two for me to see that Sakim worked swiftly, surely, and with confidence. I had no further doubts.
There had been a surplus of poles cut when the stockade was under construction, and from these a new gate was being made.
Food was being put on the table when a messenger came from the Abigail. The hole in the hull had been temporarily repaired and the water was being pumped out, but extensive repairs would yet be needed before she was seaworthy again.
There was no word from Pim Burke and Wa-ga-su regarding the Jolly Jack. Abigail was in our cabin meanwhile, and I sat down there.
"Did you mean it?" I said, "A son?"
"Well," she hesitated, "a child, anyway. I can't promise a son."
"It would be easier for a son," I said. "Here."
She nodded seriously. "You know, I never thought of that until now. It is one thing for a boy to grow up in this wilderness. But a girl? Here ... so far from everything. Could she become a lady?"
"Wherever she grows up," I said, "your daughter would be a lady."
We talked of that, and of other things, and with one ear listened for the trouble we knew would come.
Pim Burke came in. He accepted a flagon of ale and sat down opposite me.
The Jolly Jack's not badly hurt. Bowsprit gone, sprits'l and sprit-tops'l gone.
Some damage to the bow. Most of her bulwark amidships is gone, and up to when we left they'd buried three men over the side."
He swallowed some ale, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Her main-tops'l yard is gone. Crashed to the deck. Several guns or gun-carriages damaged, but she's able to go to sea."
He paused. "I wonder if he knows how shallow the water is out there in the sound? He might run aground."
"I hope he doesn't," I said frankly. "I want him out of here."
"Aye, I was thinkin' on that." Pim looked up at me. "You plannin' to stay here?"
He paused again.
Outside the wind stirred slightly. I could hear the men working to repair the gate.
"I'm going to the mountains, Pim," I said, "when spring comes."
"They'll not all go with you, Barnabas," he said quietly. "There's been talk.
Some think we should take the Abigail and go a-pirating, and some are for trade, but many are restless now that the work's finished."
It was no hard thing to understand. They were far from others of their kind, and we'd seen no ships but Bardle's.
The sound was shallow. There were places where, if a man was careful, he could guide a vessel through the water and into the rivers in safety, yet there were shoals here and there, and floods from upriver kept them changing.
A large vessel could not well navigate in the sound unless during a time when the rivers were in flood. Abigail, if well-handled, could do it.
"Who's the leader of those who would be pirates?" I asked.
"Jonathan Delve."
I well knew the man. A good gunner, a fierce fighter, and a tall, sallow-cheeked man with a spotty black beard and always-watchful eyes.
"So Delve's their leader now?"
"Aye. He says nothing of you, mind you. Delve is a wily one, and you'll not catch him out. Only he's talking of going a-pirating ... of ships to be had off the coast. He's already come to me twice, wanting a boat with which to explore.
I think he's got something on his mind, Barnabas. I've watched him ... and listened. He's been on this coast before."
"How many of them are there?"
Pim shrugged. "It could be five, it could be more ... They're restless, like I said."
Pim paused, drank some ale, and then said, "Delve came up with something ... pointblank. Asked me if I'd ever heard of a man named Chantry."
"Chantry?"
"Aye. You mayn't have heard of him, being in the fens, like. He was talked about along the waterfront of Bristol, and in the dives. He was Irish, they say, but there seems some mystery about him. He had great skill with arms, but was a trading man ... or so it seemed. He put money in a voyage to America, and went along."
"What happened to him?" I asked.
"Well, he was lost ashore. Indians attacked a watering party and he was killed with the others and the ship pulled off ... only he wasn't dead."
"So?"
"He showed up again in Bristol, a-sailing of his own ship, but how he come by it or a crew, no man could say. He unloaded a few mast-timbers, sold some freshwater pearls and some dried fish, but when he pulled out of Bristol his ship was still deep in the water. There was a lot of talk. You know how it is around the harbor dives. Was it treasure he had aboard? Where did he get his ship and his treasure, if any? Where did he get a crew? And where had he been all that time?
"The next thing known is that he slipped out of harbor, and when we heard of him again he'd set himself up in western Ireland. Living like a King he is, him and the girl."
"Girl?"
"Aye. He was married to her, they say. Some say she was a Spanish lass, and some say an Indian. But she was beautiful, rarely, wonderfully beautiful ... and different."
"He was a lucky man, then. Fortune and a beautiful woman," I said.
"Aye," Pim said, "I should be so lucky! But that is not all of the story. There was gossip about it, and Delve has heard it all. Chantry had looted a Spanish galleon of its treasure, they say. Some s
ay he captured it, some that he found it deserted but for the girl. He took a shipload of treasure from it."
"It's a good story."
"Aye, but the story that Delve likes is that he only brought back a small part of the treasure-that his ship wasn't large enough to take the whole, and that the biggest part of the treasure is still in the bottom of the ship."
"And where is the ship?"
"Run ashore on some island or other, laying there for the taking."
"How long ago was this?"
"Some years back ... maybe twenty ... I don't know. Point is, from the description they got, they think it is somewhere near here. The story is told of some barrier islands, and sounds into which rivers flowed."
I shrugged. "Pim, this whole coast is like that, for miles and miles."
Nevertheless I was remembering a ship in which I had taken shelter, a ship almost buried in sand on the shore of a river islet ... a ship that might be buried or swept out to sea by this time. I said nothing.
"Put a couple of men to watch the Jolly Jack, Pim. Have them report her every move." I got up, thinking of Delve, and well knowing the lure of gold. I might lose almost all who were with me, leaving us vulnerable for any attack.
Now many things that had been keeping their shadows in the back of my mind came to the fore. What future, beyond the promise of land, could I offer those with me?
Other colonists would eventually come ... but when? How long, I thought, must we wait? Most of us were young, but I think that no two men age at the same rate, or learn equal sums from experience. Some men learn by their years, others simply live through them.
I found Jublain at once. It took me only a moment to explain.
"Aye," he said gloomily, "I have had a feeling about Delve, but he has had a feeling about me, so I'd likely be the last he'd speak to."
That night, the Jolly Jack sailed away, to the great relief of all.
It was only later that I discovered Delve had spread the word very well indeed.
On the morning after, he came to me with three other men.
Delve hooked his thumbs in his belt. He was smiling, a kind of taunting, challenging smile it was. "We be going to hunt for gold," he said. "We've heard there's a treasure ship nearby, run aground and beached."
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