Free Corsair by Tim Severin Page B

running into the courtyard and began to break up the fight using whips and cudgels to separate the contestants. The Russians and their opponents drew apart, still looking sullen, but they offered no resistance to the intervention of the guards.
    ‘Whatever happens,’ advised Dan, ‘whether you are kicked or whipped, or punched in the face by a Turk, you must never strike back. I could pull that unnatural beast Emilio off you because he is foreign-born. But if he had been a true Turk, my certain punishment would be death. Never hit or insult our Turkish masters, that is one rule which everyone respects. Even if the Turk is drunk.’
    ‘But how can that be? I thought that the Mussulmen are forbidden to take alcohol.’
    ‘I’ll show you something,’ answered Dan, and led him towards the stairway.
    They descended to the courtyard and Hector followed the Miskito into one of the side rooms in the arcade. It was a tavern, and doing a thriving business. The place was crowded with slaves, drinking and carousing, the smoke from their clay pipes creating a thick fug that made Hector’s eyes water.
    ‘Where does he get the alcohol?’ he whispered to Dan, nodding towards the landlord behind his counter at the back of the room. ‘He buys it from the merchant ships who come to trade in Algiers, or from the corsair captains who capture it as part of their booty. Then he resells it, often to the Turks themselves because the city authorities turn a blind eye to their own people who come into the bagnio for a drink, provided they don’t make an exhibition of themselves.’
    Hector noticed a small group of Turks standing close to the counter who were obviously the worse for drink. ‘Look behind them,’ said Dan, lowering his voice. ‘Those big men over there, they’re paid by the landlord to keep an eye on the Turks. If any Turk gets drunk and it looks as if he will make trouble, one of those fellows will quietly escort him out of the bagnio. The landlord cannot afford a disturbance. If there is a fight, the guardian bashaw has the power to shut his tavern and order him to be beaten, even though the landlord is giving him a cut of the profits.’
    ‘You mean to say that customers of the tavern can just walk in and out of the bagnio?’
    ‘Yes, until an hour or so after dusk. That is when the gates are locked shut.’ Dan cocked his head to one side. ‘Listen, you hear that shouting? It’s the beylik foreman. He’s calling out what the jobs will be tomorrow. It’s time we went back up to the dormitory. If it’s your first day at work, you’ll need all the rest you can get.’
    As they climbed back up the staircase Hector asked why the slaves did not attempt to escape if the gates were left open.
    ‘Where would they go?’ Dan replied. ‘If they run inland, the Moors of the countryside will catch them and bring them back to the city and receive a reward. If they get as far as the mountains, they will be eaten by wild animals. Should they reach the desert beyond the mountains they will get lost and die of thirst.’
    ‘Couldn’t they steal a ship?’
    ‘The Turks have thought of that, too. When a galley comes into port after a corso, the first thing they do is order the galley slaves to dump all the oars overboard into the harbour. Then the oars are towed ashore and placed in a secure warehouse. A few slaves have managed to escape by swimming out to visiting merchant ships and stowing away. But the ship captains take good care to search their own vessels before they leave Algiers. If the Turks find an escaped slave aboard a visiting ship, they’ll seize the vessel and put it up for sale. The captain and his crew are lucky if they are not enslaved as well.’
    They had reached their dormitory, and Hector stretched out on the lumpy straw palliasse Dan had lent him. He lay there, listening to the sounds of the other slaves settling to their rest, the creaking of the bunks, the grumbles and mutterings, the coughs and