Free Ocean Without End by Kelly Gardiner Page A

men.
    At first we just patched them up as best we could. Time was the best surgeon, said Cook, and he was right in a way. Harry died on the first night, and his body was thrown, with the other dead, over the side. Nobody said a prayer for him or anyone else. There was no time. Diablo drove us like a madman, stomping around the deck of the big ship, shouting down at the crew toiling under the hot sun on the sloop.
    The men called her the Mermaid , and she had been fresh out of Alexandria, making for Algiers, when she had stumbled across our path. I watched as her surviving crew members were shackled. Mostly poor Egyptians, they pleaded for mercy. But there were soldiers, too, in blue coats, like the one I’d fought. French, I guessed, but what they were doing out here on an Ottoman ship, we couldn’t say. Perhaps they had no idea themselves. Their officers were all dead,and the ship’s captain, I heard, had shot himself rather than be taken prisoner. The soldiers and captured crew, even the wounded, were herded into Gisella ’s fetid hold.
    Late on the second day, a bell sounded and all hands were called onto the deck of Gisella .
    â€˜All hands,’ shouted Carlo as he ran past the galley. ‘That means you and me, too!’
    On the quarterdeck, El Capitán de Diablo stood with his sword in his hand, glaring out at the crew gathered below him. There was a bit of pushing and shoving as men tried to get into the front rows. Cook and I stood at the back.
    Jem was standing behind the captain, a few feet away, not looking at us but across into the still-tangled rigging of the Mermaid . He seemed to be wishing himself leagues away.
    Diablo banged his sword pommel on the mast to get some quiet.
    â€˜We have a prize!’ he shouted, and there was a ragged cheer from the men. Too many remembered that the real prize, the merchant ship, had gone to the bottom. The little Mermaid was not much consolation.
    â€˜This prize is worth maybe two thousand scudi in port, to some enterprising merchant in need of a fast ship. And let’s not forget our young duke, whose father waits so impatiently for his beloved son’s return that the ransom money will be burning a hole in his purse.’ He pointed his cutlass at Carlo, who blushed.
    â€˜So we need a crew to sail the prize ship to Valletta to be sold, collect our ransom for the boy, and wait there for Gisella to return.’
    The men were silent. They waited to see what their choices might be. There was no point in volunteering if it meant missing out on more prizes.
    But Diablo wasn’t asking for volunteers. ‘All the wounded will go to Valletta,’ he announced. ‘Those who can no longer fight will be discharged there. I have made a list of the others who will sail the Mermaid . Jem McGuire will be in charge of the prize crew.’
    The men glanced at each other. This wasn’t the pirate way — even in the navy, sailors would be given the chance to volunteer. But no one spoke. Not yet.
    Diablo went on, shouting above our heads in his coarse, gravelly voice. ‘ Gisella will set course tonight for Algiers. I find I have business there that cannot be delayed. I will take the captives with me.’
    Not Isola di Bravo. Nowhere near Santa Lucia. Gisella was heading back to Africa, further from my home and further from freedom.
    The crew was as disappointed as I was. ‘Hey, Captain, we’ve had enough of your business,’ one man shouted, from the safety of the huddle. ‘We want more prizes!’
    â€˜ Iva! ’ shouted Ricardo and Francesco in unison.
    Miller shuffled forward through the pack. ‘That’s enough, boys,’ he muttered. He lifted his face to the quarterdeck. Jem raised a hand to hush him, but he kept on. ‘But fair’s fair, sir. It’s months since we’ve had any real action. How’s about we sail in convoy for a few weeks, see what we can pick up, and then sell off the