Guy reached the hatchway just as more men popped their heads out, and they too shouted to the men below. Guy and his men mounted a ferocious attack on the crew trying to get out from below, while some of the other men with Talon rushed to the after hatchway and began to close the doors. But they too became engaged by men from below who, realizing that their fate was sealed once the hatches were shut, fought with everything they had to keep them open. Pikes and spears were thrust upwards at the men on deck, who only had their swords to counter them. Talon assessed the situation as best he could but he knew that he needed to get to the main cabin before all else.
Talon dived through the main doorway that led to the cabins below and hastened down the steps. He was met in the darkness by a large figure that shouted at him in some language he did not understand. Talon reached forward and thrust hard at the soft form with his blade. The blade sank deep into flesh, eliciting a gasp of agony, and the man fell backwards with a crash to the deck where he lay groaning.
Not waiting to see how much damage he had done and now desperate to find Caravello, Talon stepped hastily over the writhing man and made for the first door he could find. He rammed his shoulder into the door and almost fell into the cabin beyond.
There was a small oil lantern burning low in a metal frame that illuminated a room full of accouterments, armor and clothing, but no Caravello. The stink of unwashed bodies was heavy. Thinking he might have heard movement in the cabin behind the wall Talon dived outside and down the short corridor and was nearly knocked off his feet by another much larger body coming in haste the other way. Talon sidestepped a nasty swipe with an axe that would have killed him had it connected, and then tripped up the man whom he thought might be the bodyguard who had accompanied Caravello on his way up the hill during their visit to the senator’s house.
The fellow crashed to the deck and his axe fell away. Leaning over him Talon struck very hard at the base of the prone figure’s head. The dull thump of his sword pommel meeting bone and the second thump as the man’s head hit the deck was enough. It went limp. Talon could hear the fighting on the deck intensify and still he had not found Caravello.
But then Talon heard some war cries above and knew that Max had arrived, so he decided to worry less about what was happening on deck and concentrate upon finding his quarry. Indeed Caravello was not lacking in courage, because the door of another, larger cabin was flung open and he appeared very suddenly in front of Talon, the light of an oil lamp illuminating his silhouette and the interior of his cabin.
Talon did not have any time to examine the cabin, however. Caravello came at him with sword and knife and appeared to know how to use them. The blades flashed in the lamplight as he swirled them about in an attempt to confuse his opponent. In the confined space of the corridor and the entrance of the cabin the two men confronted one another.
“You cursed pirates will not take my ship!” Caravello shouted almost into Talon’s face in Greek, clearly thinking he was dealing with some local pirates. “What?” He jeered. “No clothes? You must be in a poor way. But not at my expense you do not, you bastards.” He lunged at Talon’s midriff, but Talon danced out of the way, blocking the thrust, and flicked the blade of his knife across Caravello’s forearm, drawing a long red line. Caravello cursed and backed off very as though reevaluating his opponent, but he soon recovered and attacked fiercely again and again.
Their blades rang and rasped along their lengths, drawing long arcs of sparks. Each time Talon blocked or retreated enough to avoid being hurt, but he was concerned about what was happening above him. Caravello was slowing down, although he continued to swear in an almost endless stream of both Greek and his own language as they fought. He appeared to find Talon’s silence somewhat unnerving.
Very quickly Talon flicked his blade onto Caravello’s sword hand, cutting the wrist to the bone. The Genoese gasped and then yelled bloody murder as he dropped his sword and clutched his damaged wrist. He fell back with first a startled and then frightened look on his wide face as he contemplated the silent, naked and seemingly implacable figure before him with the blade of his sword settling on his throat.
“What do you want?” Caravello gasped. He winced at the pain in his wrist that was now bleeding copiously.
“You come with me. Now!” Talon said sharply in Greek.
He drove the large man out of the cabin and along the corridor past the unconscious figure on the floor, and then they walked up the stairs with Caravello looking back and down on his fallen companion.
“You killed Davide, you bastards. God curse all of you to Hell,” he said as he climbed into the open.
The sight that greeted them was one of men still fighting, but it was instantly clear to Talon that Max and Guy had the upper hand. It was almost comical to see the men who had swum out to the ship prancing about their opponents, brandishing their swords while screaming and yelling like mad stark naked devils. This tactic clearly had the effect of unnerving their opponents.
“Tell your men to stop fighting and they will live!” Talon shouted to Caravello. He hauled him up the stairs onto the afterdeck and shouted again. “Do it, or you will die in front of them all.”
The Genoese did not need further prompting. He took a deep breath and bellowed an order. His men hesitated and stared up at him. For some this was the last thing they ever did, as the naked savages capering about them, not understanding their captain’s words, took quick advantage of their inattention and struck to kill. Max realized this and bellowed at his men.
“Stop! Stand back! Their Captain is a prisoner, look up there! Stop, I tell you!” Max’s voice was as good as Caravello’s and the two of them then shouted again to get the full attention of the remaining fighters.
Men stopped what they were doing and stared up at the former captain of the ship who had a naked man standing next to him with his sword at his throat.
“I did not realize it was ‘im!” One of their own crew joked, referring to Talon. “Never seen ‘im without ‘is clothes before!”
The men around him laughed like madmen and began capering about like fools, further terrifying the Genoese crew.
“Who said that?” Max bellowed. “Get on with checking the prisoners, you idiots, or you will feel the flat of my sword on your bare arses.” He was still a sergeant of Templars after all. The cackling and capering men settled down.
“Tell them to throw down their arms. Their lives will be preserved if they do. If not, they all die—and you first,” Talon threatened.
Caravello shouted at his men in his own language again and slowly the men under his command began to obey. Their weapons dropped to the deck with a clatter and they stared with wide-eyed apprehension at their captors.
“You will tell all the remaining crew to come out onto the deck without weapons. If anyone has a single knife in his possession we will have you all butchered,” Talon told Caravello in Greek. “Anyone who remains below will be killed when we find him.”
The man nodded and with apparent reluctance shouted some more orders. His men passed the orders down below and other men began to emerge. Frightened men and boys came onto the deck, where they were searched and then their hands tied behind them. Guy came bounding up onto the afterdeck with some of his naked cohorts and some rope with which they tied Caravello’s arms behind him. Talon noted with some distress that there were naked men among the dead and wounded. Not as many as he had feared, but still these were his men.
Talon’s reflections were interrupted by Caravello who was now standing by the steering oar looking more and more angry and fearful.
“Who are you people?” he demanded. “By God, I wish to know who is pirating my vessel! You cannot get away with this!” he shouted, his eyes bulging with rage.
Talon was beginning to feel the cold as the excitement of the fight ebbed away. He shivered and said to Guy in a low whisper, “Send a man down to the boat and get our clothes, you did bring the clothes Max?”
Max nodded
and grinned.
“There is a man below whom I wounded, some men need to go below and tie him, he is lying in the corridor. Tie him up, but hurry. Guy, we have to sail this ship away before the dawn. You will be the captain.”
Guy stared at Talon with surprise, followed by joy written all over his face. Then he gave Talon the benefit of his fearsome grin, nodded, and hurried below just as Max came up the stairs to the afterdeck.
Max stared hard at Caravello, and Talon watched his friend closely as he strode up to the captured captain, who backed away from the baleful stare. Max stopped and examined him in the dim light of the growing dawn. Talon was afraid that Max might take his revenge there and then, his emotions appeared to be so great. But they had agreed beforehand that they would not kill unnecessarily. Finally, Max turned to Talon.
“It is he all right! I would know him anywhere. God damn him,” he muttered to Talon.
“You know we must leave, as it will soon be dawn,” Talon spoke in a low voice to Max, who nodded and went back down the steps without a further look at the Genoese.
Max took control of the waist of the ship where the despondent former crew was gathered.
“Who are the men who know how to use the Greek Fire?” he demanded.
There was silence, but then Talon added his voice. “We have to know who it is who can use the Fire apparatus? Are any of you from the city of Constantinople?”
Several raised their hands. “Are you the men who made the fire last night?”
Only one man raised his hand.
“Step forward and be seen,” Max ordered, and when the man complied Max reached for his arm. The man flinched and tried to pull away, his face a mask of fear. “No! I will tell you! Do not torture me any more!” he wailed.
Max glanced at Talon and said to the frightened man. “We are not here to hurt you, but you have to tell us what you know. See that man there?” he pointed to Talon. “He is our leader and he would talk to you about how this all came about.”
The man nodded and spoke rapidly in Greek. “I will tell you, but I am afraid. They killed all my companions to make us talk…in the end I told them, and then they made me work it.”
“Do not be afraid. Sir Talon here will just talk to you. Are there any more of you who know this device?”
The man shook his head in mute denial then spoke. “They, he killed them, all three of them, right in front of me. God curse him to Hell for that.” The thin-looking man pointed to Caravello, who stared back defiantly.
As soon as Guy had returned with some clothes, Talon indicated that Caravello was to be taken below. As they passed by Talon glared at Caravello.
“I was going to leave you on this island with your men, but now, after hearing what that man said about your murder of his companions, you are going to come with us to Acre.”
Guy ordered his men to hustle the prisoner below, lock him in the storeroom, and stand guard at the door.
Max then told the crew of the Genoese ship in his broken Greek that they were free to go. He pointed to the beach where their dead companions lay by the now smoldering remains of the fire.
“Go!” he said loudly. “Go!” There was no mistaking his words, which were followed by the unkind prodding of the Falcon’s men with the points of their swords. The first of the crew who now had their hands untied began to jump into the water and swim for the beach. Some protested but were still told to jump, and those that hung back fearfully, begging not to have to go into the water, were picked up and tossed wailing with fear as they fell to plunge into the water with loud splashes. These men were helped by their companions to splash their clumsy way to the beach where they stumbled to the sand and sat down, soaked to the bone and shivering there to contemplate their fate. Others discovered their dead companions and shouted their anger and their fear to the new owners of the ship. By this time, however, their voices were faint, as Guy gave the order to lift the anchor stone and haul down the sails. The vessel began to head out to sea, just as the first real streaks of dawn turned the eastern sky a light blue.
They sailed around the point of the island to see the other two ships still at anchor and drew near to the cheers of the crew who had waited for news all night long. By this time the rest of the men were dressed in some semblance of clothing pilfered from the recent crew and what Max and his men had salvaged from the bundles they had left on the beach. They stood proudly on the sides and climbed the rigging to gleefully yell and wave at their companions before Guy shouted at them to get to work hauling up the sails and making sure that they anchored safely.
Henry and Nigel came aboard with huge grins of delight written all over their faces to embrace the three men on the afterdeck. They were both enormously pleased for Guy when they heard what Talon had made him captain of the ship. They thumped him on the back and shouting their congratulations as he wore an ecstatic smile that would have terrified anyone who did not know him. Henry took Talon aside.
“I do not know how you took this ship, Sir Talon, but you will not regret having Nigel or Guy as your navigators, of that I am sure.” He rubbed his beard furiously for the next few minutes while Nigel ribbed Guy mercilessly about his navigational skills. Looking at the two of them Talon smiled and thought that together they made for the perfect nightmare for anyone who met them in the dark after a few skins of wine.
Eventually, impatient to leave this island, he called his companions to order and told them to come below for a conference. When they were all seated in the well-furnished cabin formerly belonging to Caravello he told them that they were to set sail together for Acre.
“Not for the great city, Sir Talon?” Guy asked, clearly disappointed.
Nigel laughed and Henry and Max looked at one another and chuckled.
“We all know that you would like to winter there, Guy, but no. You have a ship that we have pirated and I want it changed beyond recognition in a place where we will be secure. The prow must be changed to a bird of prey, just like a falcon, as will the ship you have, Nigel.”
“What about trade and so forth? Is the city not the best place to do this?” Nigel asked slyly.
Talon grinned.
“We have booty aplenty to see us through the winter, my friends. I shall share it with you when we get there. Some must go to the Templars, as is only right, as we do sail with the charter that Sir Guy allowed me, but I do not think he anticipates that we might now have three ships to run instead of one. Thus I must keep my newfound fleet paid for. Fear not, my friends, we will have many a chance to trade with the Golden City in the spring and summer of next year. My friends want us back.”
“What do we do with the Genoese?” Max asked.
“We have to take him with us, Max. He has betrayed the Greeks and he murdered innocent men in order to obtain the knowledge of this fearsome device we have on board.”
“I realize that, Talon, but I would sooner drop him overboard with a stone tied to his ankles than take him back to the Byzantines.”
“I wanted his ship, Max, and now we have it. He can wait out the winter as a prisoner in Acre, and with the warmer weather he will go with us back to the city to face his fate. He deserves to be handed off to them. They will not be kind to him.”
Talon decided to remain on the ship with Guy because, as he told them, he wanted to find out how the Fire apparatus worked, or at least have it demonstrated to him by the timid little man.
They set sail within the hour and before noon their ships were well out of sight of the island. Henry as the lead navigator led the way with the Falcon toward the south and Acre, the other two ships following in his wake.
*****
Caravello was kept under tight security for a couple of days while they sailed. Talon had other things to worry about, and one of them was the apparatus that squatted on the starboard side of the ship. He had the crew take off its coverings and then examined it with great care, with the skinny Greek named Ioannes in attendance. Ioannes spent some time trying to explain
the system to Talon, who, not being of a very technical bent, found it difficult to understand.
Ioannes pointed out its main features. There was a bronze riveted tank suspended over a fire box that was enclosed inside metal and which could be resupplied with either charcoal or wood, but this fire had to be going very well before anything could be done. Ioannes indicated the large bellows, the snout of which went into the base of the fire tank.
“The bellows make the fire very hot, Sir. Then the upper tank that contains the thick infernal liquid will become heated to a very high temperature and much thinner than when cold so that it flows better.”
Talon looked at an attachment that led into the tank from the deck side. “What does that do?”
“It is the pump that is manned when the temperature is getting close to the right heat. Several men must pump air into the tank. It is very hard work.”
“What does it do?” Talon asked, puzzled.
“It makes the air inside become thick and the liquid is now put under pressure like a fountain. Do you understand, Sir? This is when the whole thing becomes very dangerous, as a mistake can lead to the liquid not coming out in the right stream which could pour onto the side of your own ship, or the tank can sometimes explode and burn the whole ship and the crew to the water.”
Talon stared at the thin man in front of him trying to judge whether he was just trying to scare him or not, but then he nodded. He believed that now he understood. He suppressed a shudder. He looked again at the stinking object squatting on the deck of his ship and observed a large pipe that led out of the heating tank to a long bronze tube mounted on a wood platform that pointed over the side of the ship.
“When everything is ready we light that small flame on that oil torch over there.” Ioannes pointed out a thick wick that was placed just before the opening of the bronze tube that had an opening about the size of a man’s fist. He touched it and found it to be sooty and burned black at the muzzle.
Greek Fire Page 62