Simon Scarrow - Sword and Scimitar

‘I wonder, if it is God’s will to heap such sorrow on those who worship Him, I cannot help but question His purpose.’

‘Be careful, Richard. That is blasphemous.’

‘It is only philosophy. My point is that both sides in the coming conflict are fighting in the name of their faiths. If the Turks win, does that mean that God has forsaken us, or that their faith is the more potent? If the faith of both sides is equally strong then this fight will be decided by men alone.’

Thomas could not disagree but if he could no longer kill in the name of Christ, he would still fight to prevent being killed in the name of Allah. ‘If it is to be settled by men, then so be it. I am ready to play my part.’ He stood up. ‘I need to take a walk.’

‘Shall I—’

‘No. You stay here. Finish your meal, then fetch our bags and rest. Get as much rest as you can. All too soon it will be a luxury you will crave as no other.’

‘Save the final rest.’

Thomas thought a moment and shook his head. ‘Even that you may come to welcome before this is over.’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The flotilla was only half a day out of the harbour at Palma on the island of Mallorca, and Thomas and Richard were enjoying the cool morning breeze, when the first sail was sighted. A sailor in the small crow’s nest at the top of the main mast shaded his eyes with one hand while the other stretched out, pointing towards the northern horizon, into the wind blowing from the direction of France.

The flagship’s captain stepped towards the stern deck rail and cupped a hand to his mouth. ‘What do you see?’

There was a short pause as the sailor scanned the horizon, straining his eyes to pick up as much detail as he could. On the main deck of the galley everyone stood and waited on his word.

‘I see two lateen sails, sir.’

‘More than likely it’s a galley,’ said Thomas.

‘How do you know?’ asked Richard as he craned his neck and stared across the slight swell. ‘I can’t even see it.’

‘And you won’t for a while yet. They’ll be hull down for an hour or so.’

‘Hull down?’

Thomas grinned as he recalled that his squire had spent most of the trip from London curled up in misery in the galleon’s cabin. ‘You know little of the ways of the sea.’

‘Yes, and I have no intention of boarding a ship ever again when this is over,’ Richard added with feeling.

‘Since you are an educated man, you must have heard that the world is round.’

Richard shot him an irritated look. ‘Of course.’

‘Then it should be self-evident why the sails of a ship are visible before the hull, given that the horizon is curved.’

Richard ground his teeth. ‘I knew that.’

‘Deck there!’ the lookout shouted. ‘I see more sails. Three . . . five, more. They look like galleys . . . Yes, I’m sure of it.’

‘Come.’ Thomas tugged his squire’s sleeve and they climbed the short flight of steps and joined the group of officers clustered around Don Garcia.

The captain turned away from the rail and sought out his commander. ‘Corsairs, sir.’

‘Surely not,’ Fadrique protested. ‘If they are corsairs, then why are they approaching from the north? Their lairs are on the African coast to the south.’

‘They are to windward, sir,’ explained the captain. Thomas had once spoken Spanish well and it was swiftly coming back to him; he found he could follow the exchange without difficulty. The captain continued, ‘They have the advantage over us. It is more than likely they have been following us for days and have worked their way round to the north to gain the weatherly advantage.’ He turned his attention to Don Garcia. ‘What are your orders, my lord?’

The Spanish commander looked out over the ships of his flotilla. The galleys formed a loose cordon around the galleons wallowing in their midst. The decks of the ponderous vessels were packed with soldiers and their arms and other equipment. They would be easy prey for any corsair galley that managed to evade the escort vessels.

‘At all costs we must protect the galleons,’ Don Garcia announced, ‘assuming that those are enemy ships. I will take no risks. Give the signal to send the men to their battle stations, Captain, and signal the other galleys to do the same, if you please.’

‘Aye, sir.’

A moment later the drummer on the main deck was beating out a shrill rattle and the soldiers hurriedly strapped on their breastplates and helmets and readied their weapons while the sailors climbed aloft and spread out along the spars to wait for the order to take the sails in. Below deck came the sound of a whip cracking and the rumble of timbers as the oars were unshipped and eased out of the ports along the sides of Don Garcia’s flagship. Thomas felt his heartbeat quicken at the sounds and the movement, even the stink wafting up from below. Old memories and sensations welled up

inside him as the galley prepared for battle. He turned to Richard. ‘Bring me my cuirass, helmet and sword. And arm yourself.’ Richard nodded and hurried below to the hold where their baggage had been stored for the voyage.

Overhead a long red and gold pennant climbed up a halyard and rippled out with a faint crackle. Moments later the other galleys raised their pennants and the sound of drums carried faintly across the waves as they made ready for battle.

‘Deck there!’

The officers at the stern looked up at the cry and saw that this time the lookout was pointing to the south.

‘More sails! At least five galleys.’

‘How many to the north?’ bellowed the captain.

The lookout quickly turned, staring hard for a moment before he replied. ‘Six, sir! I can see ’em clearly now. Hull up.’

‘Can you see any of their colours?’

‘Not yet, sir.’

‘Could they be our allies?’ asked Fadrique. ‘Genoese, perhaps?’ His father shook his head. ‘Not this far to the west. The rendez¬vous is at Sicily. It is almost certainly the enemy. Corsairs from the Barbary coast.’

‘I agree,’ said Thomas. ‘It is a classic ambush, Don Garcia. I have seen it many times before.’

‘From the point of view of the hunter, no doubt.’

‘That is true. When the galleys of the Order operated together, this is how we would hunt. I suspect that our enemy has learned the technique from us. Indeed, in -many ways the corsairs and the men of the Order are alike.’

‘Except that the Order is blessed by the Church of Rome.’

‘Just as the Muslim pirates are blessed by the imams of their faith, sir. In the end we are all holy warriors, or we are all pirates.’

Don Garcia frowned. ‘That is a troubling pronouncement, Sir Thomas. I do not care to think of my enemy, and the enemy of the one true God, in such a light. I’d prefer that you did not speak in such terms before me again.’

‘As you wish, Don Garcia.’

‘What I do wish to hear more of is their tactics. You have more experience of them than I do. How will they seek to defeat us?’ Thomas paused a moment to think, mentally positioning the three forces and taking into account the wind direction. ‘Their target will be the galleons. They are your most vulnerable vessels, sir. The corsairs will know that is where the most valuable cargo will be. But they will soon realise that the galleons are filled with soldiers. So they will either stand off and blast the decks with grapeshot before they board, or they will attempt to sink the galleons in a bid to kill as many of your soldiers as possible. For that they can expect to be handsomely rewarded by the Sultan.’

‘Then what is to be done to frustrate them? Is it too late to turn back to Palma?’

‘That is what they will have calculated. Even now they are on converging courses. If you order the flotilla to turn about, they will follow suit and continue to close in on us. We will be engaged long before we could hope to lie under the protection of Palma’s cannon, sir.’