The Baroque Cycle - The Confusion Part 13

"Very well. There are several houses in Lyon that can do this."

"Indeed. And normally I would not care which one of them handled it. But in this case, I specifically want you not not to use the House of Hacklheber. I have reason to believe that the old ogre, Lothar, will be most unhappy with me after the transaction goes through." And the Duke laughed. to use the House of Hacklheber. I have reason to believe that the old ogre, Lothar, will be most unhappy with me after the transaction goes through." And the Duke laughed.

"I see. May I guess, from this hint, that it has something to do with piracy?"

Plainly the Duke thought this a stupid question. But he was polished, and handled it in good form. "That is the word that Lothar will attach to it, no doubt, in order to justify any...retaliations he may contemplate. But the method is normal, in a war. I am sure you will see nothing unusual in it, mademoiselle, given that you are such a friend of Jean Bart, and that along with the Marquis d'Ozoir you are a direct supporter of his exploits?" He laughed again, with gusto; and she felt his breath on her face, and with some trepidation drew it into her nostrils, and smelled death. It reminded her of something in addition to death, however.

"You look peaked, mademoiselle. Are you all right?"

"The air is stuffy."

"We shall go outside, then! I have nothing further to say, other than that you should plan to be in Lyon no later than the end of August."

"Shall I see you there?"

"It is not known. There is another aspect of this transaction, which has nothing to do with money, and everything to do with the honor of my family. It is a matter of personal revenge, which need not concern you. I must tend to it myself, myself, of course-that's the whole point! No telling where or when exactly. Nevertheless, you may count on my being back in Paris, at the Hotel Arcachon, for my birthday party on the fourteenth of October. It shall be splendid. I am already making the plans. The King will be there, mademoiselle. You and I shall see each other then and there, and if etienne has done the honorable thing, why, then I shall expect a blessed announcement!" of course-that's the whole point! No telling where or when exactly. Nevertheless, you may count on my being back in Paris, at the Hotel Arcachon, for my birthday party on the fourteenth of October. It shall be splendid. I am already making the plans. The King will be there, mademoiselle. You and I shall see each other then and there, and if etienne has done the honorable thing, why, then I shall expect a blessed announcement!"

He turned and offered his arm to Eliza, who took it, trying not to recoil from the smell of him. "I am certain it shall all come to pa.s.s just as you say, monsieur," she said. "But as I go outside with you, I should like to change the subject, if I may, to horses."

"Horses! It is a welcome welcome change of subject! I am a change of subject! I am a great great fancier of them." fancier of them."

"I know, for the evidence has been all around me ever since I came here seven months ago. I noticed quite early that you have some albinos in your stable."

"Indeed!"

"Seeing this, I phant'sied that such horses must be very popular among the Quality here, and that, in consequence, I could expect to see many more of them, in the stables of the King and of the many other n.o.bles who live in these parts. But this has not been the case."

"I should hope not! For the entire point of having them is that they are rare. They are distinctive. They are of Turkish stock."

"May I ask who you bought them from? Is there some breeder hereabouts who has connections in the Levant?"

"Yes, mademoiselle," said the Duke, "and he has the honor of being on your arm at this moment. For it is I who imported the Pasha to France some years ago, from Constantinople, via Algiers, in an unfathomably complex exchange of a.s.sets-"

"The Pasha?"

"A stud, mademoiselle, an albino stallion, the father of all the others!"

"He must have been magnificent."

"Is magnificent, for he still lives!" magnificent, for he still lives!"

"Really?"

"He is old, and does not venture out of the stables so often, but on a warm evening such as this, you may go down to the paddock and see him stretching his stiff old legs."

"When did you import the Pasha?"

"When? Let me see, it would have been ten years ago."

"Are you certain?"

"No, no, what am I saying!? Time pa.s.ses so quickly, I quite lose track. It would have been eleven years ago this summer."

"Thank you for satisfying my curiosity, and escorting me out to your beautiful garden, monsieur," said Eliza, bending to one side to bury her nose in a rose-and to hide her reaction from the Duke. "I shall go for a stroll now, by myself, to clear my head. Perhaps I shall go down and pay my respects to the Pasha."

LIKE MOST OTHER PEOPLE, Eliza had never in her life been more than a stone's throw away from an open flame. Wherever she was, there was always Eliza had never in her life been more than a stone's throw away from an open flame. Wherever she was, there was always something something burning: a cooking-fire, a candle, a pipe-bowl of tobacco or burning: a cooking-fire, a candle, a pipe-bowl of tobacco or bhang, bhang, incense, a torch, a lanthorn. These were tame fires. Everyone knew that fire could go wild. Eliza had seen the aftermath of such fires in Constantinople, in the countryside of Hungary, where much had been burned as it was attacked by Ottomans or defended by Christians, and in Bohemia, which was studded with old forts and castles that had been put to the torch during the Thirty Years' War. But she had never actually seen a fire grow from a tame spark to a feral conflagration until a couple of years ago, in Amsterdam, when a Mobb of Orangist patriots had gathered before the house of a Mr. Sluys, who had lately been exposed as a traitor to the Dutch Republic, and burned the place to the ground. They had done this by hurling torches in through windows. The house had been abandoned a few minutes earlier by Mr. Sluys and his household, who had not had time to board the place up. For several minutes, very little had seemed to happen, and the crowd had only become more agitated-the feeble and steady flickering of the torches, slowly dying on the floors of dark rooms, drove them into a kind of frenzy. But then a sudden sunrise of yellow light shone from an upstairs window, where a curtain or something had caught fire. This had probably saved the lives of several in the Mobb who had been so desperate to see the house come down that they would have jumped in through the shattered windows to attack it with their bare hands. After that, the fire built steadily for a few minutes, spreading from room to room. This was absorbing to watch, but not especially remarkable. It was even tedious, after a while. But at some point the fire had vaulted over some invisible threshold and simply exploded, over the course of a few heartbeats, into a monstrous thing that wore the envelope of the house as a suit of ill-fitting clothes. It sucked in so much air that it howled, and s.n.a.t.c.hed wigs and caps from the heads of bystanders. Burning timbers shot up in the air like meteors. Vortices of white flame formed, fought, joined, and were swallowed. The ground hummed. Rivers of molten lead-for the house was full of it-spilled out onto the street and traced glowing nets in the crevices between the ashlars, fading from yellow to orange to red as they cooled. For a few moments it seemed that the fire might spread to engulf all Amsterdam in another minute, and all of the Dutch Republic the minute after that. But it had been contained between the thick masonry firewalls to either side. Pent up, it was almost more terrible than it would have been free, for all of its intensity was concentrated between those walls, instead of being allowed to spread and dissipate. incense, a torch, a lanthorn. These were tame fires. Everyone knew that fire could go wild. Eliza had seen the aftermath of such fires in Constantinople, in the countryside of Hungary, where much had been burned as it was attacked by Ottomans or defended by Christians, and in Bohemia, which was studded with old forts and castles that had been put to the torch during the Thirty Years' War. But she had never actually seen a fire grow from a tame spark to a feral conflagration until a couple of years ago, in Amsterdam, when a Mobb of Orangist patriots had gathered before the house of a Mr. Sluys, who had lately been exposed as a traitor to the Dutch Republic, and burned the place to the ground. They had done this by hurling torches in through windows. The house had been abandoned a few minutes earlier by Mr. Sluys and his household, who had not had time to board the place up. For several minutes, very little had seemed to happen, and the crowd had only become more agitated-the feeble and steady flickering of the torches, slowly dying on the floors of dark rooms, drove them into a kind of frenzy. But then a sudden sunrise of yellow light shone from an upstairs window, where a curtain or something had caught fire. This had probably saved the lives of several in the Mobb who had been so desperate to see the house come down that they would have jumped in through the shattered windows to attack it with their bare hands. After that, the fire built steadily for a few minutes, spreading from room to room. This was absorbing to watch, but not especially remarkable. It was even tedious, after a while. But at some point the fire had vaulted over some invisible threshold and simply exploded, over the course of a few heartbeats, into a monstrous thing that wore the envelope of the house as a suit of ill-fitting clothes. It sucked in so much air that it howled, and s.n.a.t.c.hed wigs and caps from the heads of bystanders. Burning timbers shot up in the air like meteors. Vortices of white flame formed, fought, joined, and were swallowed. The ground hummed. Rivers of molten lead-for the house was full of it-spilled out onto the street and traced glowing nets in the crevices between the ashlars, fading from yellow to orange to red as they cooled. For a few moments it seemed that the fire might spread to engulf all Amsterdam in another minute, and all of the Dutch Republic the minute after that. But it had been contained between the thick masonry firewalls to either side. Pent up, it was almost more terrible than it would have been free, for all of its intensity was concentrated between those walls, instead of being allowed to spread and dissipate.

Now tears were a watery thing, and so a pedantic schoolman might insist that they were opposite in nature to fire, and could have naught in common with that element. Yet, just as Eliza had never been far from little fires, so she had never been far from the shedding of tears. Children were everywhere, and they cried all the time. Full-grown people did it less often, but they still cried. Especially women. In the banyolar banyolar of Algiers, the of Algiers, the harim harim of the Topkapi Palace, and various European households, Eliza had spent most of her time in the company of women of all ages and stations, and rarely did a single day pa.s.s without her seeing at least one person get a little sniffly and moist about the eyes, whether out of pain, anger, sadness, or joy. Eliza often allowed even herself to shed a tear or two in private, and had done so more freely since the birth of Jean-Jacques. But these sheddings of tears were like so many candle-flames or kitchen-fires: elements of domestic life, controlled, unremarkable. of the Topkapi Palace, and various European households, Eliza had spent most of her time in the company of women of all ages and stations, and rarely did a single day pa.s.s without her seeing at least one person get a little sniffly and moist about the eyes, whether out of pain, anger, sadness, or joy. Eliza often allowed even herself to shed a tear or two in private, and had done so more freely since the birth of Jean-Jacques. But these sheddings of tears were like so many candle-flames or kitchen-fires: elements of domestic life, controlled, unremarkable.

Eliza had seen, on occasion, crying of an altogether different nature: wild, hair-pulling, clothes-rending, spine-warping tear-rage. It had never happened to her, though, and she did not really ken it, until that evening when she walked down to the paddock out behind the stables of the Duc d'Arcachon, on the Plateau of Satory, and found herself standing face to face with Pasha: an albino Arabian stallion whom she had last encountered at dockside in the harbor of Algiers, eleven years ago. She and her mother had been s.n.a.t.c.hed from the beach of Outer Qwghlm by a coastal raiding-galley of the Barbary Corsairs, and taken off into slavery; but presently they had learned that these Corsairs were operating in concert with a Christian s.h.i.+p. For they had spent the entire journey to Algiers being molested in a dark cabin by an uncirc.u.mcised man with white skin, who liked to dine on rotten fish. Delivered to Algiers, they had been a.s.signed to a banyolar banyolar and become a.s.sets of some enterprise there, of which it was not possible to know very much, save that it imported certain goods-including slaves-from Christendom, exporting in exchange silks, perfumes, blades, delicacies, spices, and other luxuries of the East. When Eliza had reached p.u.b.erty, she had been traded to Constantinople in exchange for this stallion-though according to what the Duke had just claimed, the exchange had been much more complicated than that, which only added insult to injury, since it implied that Eliza, by herself, was not worth as much as this horse. She had vowed then and there to find the smelly man in the dark cabin and kill him one day. Christendom being a large place-France alone had twenty millions of souls-she had supposed that finding the villain might take a while. and become a.s.sets of some enterprise there, of which it was not possible to know very much, save that it imported certain goods-including slaves-from Christendom, exporting in exchange silks, perfumes, blades, delicacies, spices, and other luxuries of the East. When Eliza had reached p.u.b.erty, she had been traded to Constantinople in exchange for this stallion-though according to what the Duke had just claimed, the exchange had been much more complicated than that, which only added insult to injury, since it implied that Eliza, by herself, was not worth as much as this horse. She had vowed then and there to find the smelly man in the dark cabin and kill him one day. Christendom being a large place-France alone had twenty millions of souls-she had supposed that finding the villain might take a while.

She had been wrong-footed by the easiness of it. She had only been in Christendom for seven years! And it had only taken her two years to meet her first de Lavardac, and three or four to lay eyes, from a distance, on the duc d'Arcachon himself. Had she been a little more perceptive she might have recognized the duc for what he was, and done him in, a long time ago.

What had she been doing instead? Socializing with Natural Philosophers. Putting on airs. Making money; all of which was now gone.

The tears that came over her, then, when she let herself into the paddock, and came face to face with Pasha, and saw and knew all, were to normal everyday tears as the burning of Mr. Sluys's house had been to the flame of a candle. It raged up in her so fast that it seemed, for a few moments, as if it might have the power to burst free from the confines of her body and make blades of gra.s.s bend double and flood the pasture with salty dew, make Pasha crumple to his arthritic knees, blow the fences down, make the trees sag and groan as in an ice-storm. Which might have been better for Eliza; but as it was, this self-feeding vortex of sorrow, humiliation, and rage could not escape her ribcage, and so it was her ribs that took all the punishment. For once it was a good thing to be wearing a corset, for without that reinforcement she might have broken her own back with these sobs. Like the burning house of Sluys, she howled, she creaked, and the tears coming out of her felt no less hot than streams of molten lead. Fortunate it was for Eliza that all of the guests were gathered some distance away, deafened by their own happy uproar. The only witness was Pasha. A younger horse might have been spooked by the transmogrification of the Countess de la Zeur into a Fury, a Medea. Pasha merely turned sideways, the better to keep Eliza within view, and nuzzled the green gra.s.s.

"I have not the remotest remotest idea what has come over you, mademoiselle," said a woman's voice. "It is quite the strangest reaction I have ever seen, to a horse." idea what has come over you, mademoiselle," said a woman's voice. "It is quite the strangest reaction I have ever seen, to a horse."

The d.u.c.h.ess of Oyonnax had timed the intrusion well. A minute before, Eliza wouldn't have been able to stop herself even if the entire guest list had suddenly appeared around her. But the outburst had insensibly faded to a long slow run of sobs, which skidded to a halt when Eliza realized she was being watched.

She straightened up, took a deep breath, shuddered it out, and hiccuped. She must look red-faced and perfectly ridiculous; this she knew. She must look as if she hadn't aged a day, in body or mind, since her first encounter with Pasha. This made her wince a little bit; for on that that day, she had lost her mother forever; and now, all of a sudden, here she was with a bigger, older, richer and stronger woman, who had materialized just as suddenly and inexplicably as Mum had vanished eleven years ago. This was perilous. day, she had lost her mother forever; and now, all of a sudden, here she was with a bigger, older, richer and stronger woman, who had materialized just as suddenly and inexplicably as Mum had vanished eleven years ago. This was perilous.

"Say nothing," said Madame la d.u.c.h.esse d'Oyonnax, "you're in no condition to, and I don't desire to know why this horse has such an effect on you. Given who it belongs to, I can only a.s.sume it is something unspeakable. The details are probably gross and tedious and in any event they are not important. All that I need to know of you, you, mademoiselle, I have seen on your face before, during and after dinner: that in general you are strangely fascinated by tales of women in a condition of slavery. That in particular you have found yourself in a like predicament; for you do not love etienne de Lavardac, but will soon be cornered into marrying him. That you loathe his father the Duke. Please do not attempt to deny these things, or I am very much afraid that I shall laugh out loud at you." mademoiselle, I have seen on your face before, during and after dinner: that in general you are strangely fascinated by tales of women in a condition of slavery. That in particular you have found yourself in a like predicament; for you do not love etienne de Lavardac, but will soon be cornered into marrying him. That you loathe his father the Duke. Please do not attempt to deny these things, or I am very much afraid that I shall laugh out loud at you."

And she paused, to give Eliza the opportunity; but Eliza said nothing.

The d.u.c.h.ess continued: "I understand situations of this type as perfectly as Monsieur Bonaventure Rossignol understands cyphers. I phant'sied my my predicament unique in all the world, until I came to Versailles! It did not take me long to understand that no one need put up with such unfair situations. There are ways to arrange it. No one lives forever, mademoiselle, and many do not deserve to live as long as they do." predicament unique in all the world, until I came to Versailles! It did not take me long to understand that no one need put up with such unfair situations. There are ways to arrange it. No one lives forever, mademoiselle, and many do not deserve to live as long as they do."

"I know what you are talking about," said Eliza. Her voice sounded quite strange at first, as though it belonged to a different Eliza altogether, one who had just been born screaming out of the old. She cleared her burnt throat and swallowed painfully. She could not keep her eyes from straying over to the shack where the d.u.c.h.ess had her soap made.

"I see that you do," said the d.u.c.h.ess.

"There is nothing you could say to me that would change my intentions."

"Of course not, proud girl!"

"My ends are fixed, and have been for many years. But as to means, means, it is possible that I might benefit from advice. For I do not care what happens to me; but if I pursue my ends through means that are obvious, it could lead to the little one in the orphanage being injured." it is possible that I might benefit from advice. For I do not care what happens to me; but if I pursue my ends through means that are obvious, it could lead to the little one in the orphanage being injured."

"Then know that you are in the most tasteful and cultivated society the world has ever seen," said the d.u.c.h.ess, "where there is a refined and subtle way of doing anything anything that a person could conceive a wish for. And it would be disgraceful for one of your quality to go about it in a rude and obvious style." that a person could conceive a wish for. And it would be disgraceful for one of your quality to go about it in a rude and obvious style."

"I would that you know one thing, which is that this is not about succession. It is not a matter of inheritance. It is a question of honor."

"This is to be expected. You loathe me. I have seen it in the way you look at me. You loathe me because you believe that my late husband's money was the only thing that I cared about. Now, you want my advice; but first you are careful to stipulate that you are better than I, your motives purer. Now, listen to me, Mademoiselle la comtesse. In this world there are very few who would kill for money. To believe that the Court of France is crowded with such rare specimens is folly. There used to be, at court, many pract.i.tioners of the Black Ma.s.s. Do you really think that all of these people woke up one morning and said, 'Today I shall wors.h.i.+p and offer sacrifices to the Prince of Evil?' Of course not. Rather, it was that some girl, desperate to find a husband, so that she would not be sent off to live out the rest of her life in some convent, would hear a rumor that such-and-such person could prepare a love potion. She would save her money and go into Paris and buy a magic powder from some mountebank. Of course it had no effect at all; but she would cozen herself into believing that it had worked a little bit, and so conceive a desperate hope, and a desire for something a little bit stronger: a magic spell, perhaps. One thing would lead to another, and in time she might find herself stealing the consecrated Host from some church, and taking it to a cellar where a Black Ma.s.s would be sung over her naked body. Errant foolishness all of it. Foolishness leading to evil. But did she set out to do evil? Did she ever conceive of herself as evil? Of course not."

"So much for lonely hearts, desperate for love," said Eliza. "What of those who were married, and whose husbands dropped dead? Did they act out of love?"

"Do you you propose to act out of love, mademoiselle? I have not heard the word propose to act out of love, mademoiselle? I have not heard the word love love escape your pretty mouth. I heard something about escape your pretty mouth. I heard something about honor honor instead; which tells me that you and I have more in common than you would like to admit. You are not the only woman in the world who is capable of taking offense at a violation of her honor, and who has the steel to respond. instead; which tells me that you and I have more in common than you would like to admit. You are not the only woman in the world who is capable of taking offense at a violation of her honor, and who has the steel to respond. Tout le monde Tout le monde knows that etienne de Lavardac seduced you-" knows that etienne de Lavardac seduced you-"

Eliza snorted. "Do you think it's that? I don't care about that."

"Frankly, mademoiselle, I could not care less why it is that you want your marriage to be brief and your widowhood long."

"Oh, no. It is not etienne who deserves this."

"The duc d'Arcachon, then? Very well. There is no accounting for taste. But you must understand that refinement is not compatible with haste. If you want the Duke dead now, now, go and stab him. If you want to enjoy his being dead for a little while, and to see your orphan grow up, you will have to be patient." go and stab him. If you want to enjoy his being dead for a little while, and to see your orphan grow up, you will have to be patient."

"I can be patient," Eliza said, "until the fourteenth of October."

Book 4

Bonanza

The Gulf of Cadiz.

5 AUGUST 1690.

The Spaniards tho' an indolent Nation, whose Colonies were really so rich, so great, and so far extended, as were enough even to glut their utmost Avarice; yet gave not over, till, as it were, they sat still, because they had no more Worlds to look for; or till at least, there were no more Gold or Silver Mines to discover.-DANIEL DEFOE, A Plan of the English Commerce WITH ONE EYE J JACK peered through his oar-lock across the gulf. He was looking edge-on through a slab of dry heat that lay dead on the water, as liquefacted gla.s.s rides above molten tin in a gla.s.s-maker's pan. On a low flat sh.o.r.e, far away, white cabals of ghosts huddled and leaped, colossal and formless. None of the slaves quite knew what to make of it until they crawled in closer to sh.o.r.e, a c.o.c.kroach on a skillet, and perceived that this Gulf was lined with vast salt-pans, and the salt had been raked up into cones and hillocks and step-pyramids by workers who were invisible from here. When they understood this, their thirst nearly slew them. They had been rowing hard for days. peered through his oar-lock across the gulf. He was looking edge-on through a slab of dry heat that lay dead on the water, as liquefacted gla.s.s rides above molten tin in a gla.s.s-maker's pan. On a low flat sh.o.r.e, far away, white cabals of ghosts huddled and leaped, colossal and formless. None of the slaves quite knew what to make of it until they crawled in closer to sh.o.r.e, a c.o.c.kroach on a skillet, and perceived that this Gulf was lined with vast salt-pans, and the salt had been raked up into cones and hillocks and step-pyramids by workers who were invisible from here. When they understood this, their thirst nearly slew them. They had been rowing hard for days.

Cadiz was a s.h.i.+v of rock thrust into the gulf. White buildings had grown up from it like the reaching fingers of rock crystals. They put into a quay that extended from the base of its sea-wall, and took on more fresh water; for one of the ways that the Corsairs kept them on a leash was by making sure that the boat was always short of it. But the Spanish harbor-master did not suffer them to stay for very long, because (as they saw when they came around the point) the lagoon sheltered in the crook of the city's bony arm was crowded with a fleet of s.h.i.+ps that Jack would have thought most remarkable, if he had never seen Amsterdam. They were mostly big slab-sided castle-a.r.s.ed s.h.i.+ps, checkered with gun-ports. Jack had never seen a Spanish treasure-galleon in good repair before-off Jamaica he had spied the wrack of one slumped over a reef. In any event, he had no trouble recognizing these. "We have not arrived too early," he said, "and so the only question that remains is, have we arrived too late?"

He and Moseh de la Cruz, Vrej Esphahnian, and Gabriel Goto were all looking to one another for answers, and somehow they all ended up looking to Otto van Hoek. "I smell raw cotton," he said. Then he stood up and looked out over the gunwale and up into the city. "And I see cargadores cargadores toting bales of it into the warehouses of the Genoese. Cotton, being bulky, would be the first cargo to come off the s.h.i.+ps. So they cannot have dropped anchor very long ago." toting bales of it into the warehouses of the Genoese. Cotton, being bulky, would be the first cargo to come off the s.h.i.+ps. So they cannot have dropped anchor very long ago."

"Still, it is likely we are too late-surely the Viceroy's brig would waste no time in going to Bonanza and unloading?" This from the rais rais or captain, Nasr al-Ghurab. or captain, Nasr al-Ghurab.

"It depends," van Hoek said. "Of these anch.o.r.ed fleet-s.h.i.+ps, only some some are beginning to unload- are beginning to unload-most have not broken bulk yet. This suggests that the customs inspections are not finished. What do you see to larboard, Caballero?" have not broken bulk yet. This suggests that the customs inspections are not finished. What do you see to larboard, Caballero?"

Jeronimo was peering towards the anch.o.r.ed fleet through an oar-lock on his side. "Tied up alongside one of the great s.h.i.+ps is a barque flying the glorious colors of His Majesty the Deformed, Monstrous Imbecile." Then he paused to mutter a little prayer and cross himself. When Jeronimo attemped to say the words "King Carlos II of Spain," this, or even less flattering expressions, would frequently come out of his mouth. "More than likely, this is the boat used by the tapeworms."

"You mean the customs inspectors?" Moseh inquired.

"Yes, you bloodsucking, scalp-pilfering, half-breed Christ-killer, that is what I meant to say-please forgive my imprecision," answered Jeronimo politely.

"But the Viceroy's brig would not have to clear customs here at Cadiz-it could do so at Sanlucar de Barrameda, and avoid the wait," Moseh pointed out.

"But as part of his ransackings, the Viceroy would be certain to have cargo of his own loaded on some of these galleons. He would have every reason to linger until the formalities were complete," Jeronimo said.

"Hah! Now I can see up into the Calle Nueva," said van Hoek. "It is gaudy with silks and ostrich-plumes today."

"What is that," Jack asked, "the street of clothes-merchants?"

"No, it is the exchange. Half the commercants commercants of Christendom are gathered there in their French fas.h.i.+ons. Last year these men s.h.i.+pped goods to America-now, they have gathered to collect their profits." of Christendom are gathered there in their French fas.h.i.+ons. Last year these men s.h.i.+pped goods to America-now, they have gathered to collect their profits."

"I see her," said Jeronimo, with a frosty calm in his voice that Jack found moderately alarming. "She is hidden behind a galleon, but I see the Viceroy's colors flying from her mast."

"The brig!?" said several of the Ten.

"The brig," said Jeronimo. "Providence-which b.u.g.g.e.red us all for so many years-has brought us here in time."

"So the thunder that rolled across the Gulf last night was not a storm, but the guns of Cadiz saluting the galleons," Moseh said. "Let us drink fresh water, and take a siesta, and then make for Bonanza."

"It would be useful if we could send someone into the city now, and let him loiter around the House of the Golden Mercury for a while," van Hoek said. Which to Jack would have meant no more than the singing of birds, except that the name jogged a memory.

"There is a house in Leipzig of the same name-it is owned by the Hacklhebers."

Van Hoek said, "As salmon converge from all the wide ocean toward the mouths of swift rivers, Hacklhebers go wherever large amounts of gold and silver are in flux."

"Why should we care about their doings in Cadiz?"

"Because they they are sure to care about are sure to care about ours," ours," van Hoek said. van Hoek said.

"Be that as it may, there's not a single man, free or slave, aboard this galleot who could get through the city-gate. So this discussion is idle," said Moseh.

"You think it will be any different at Sanlucar de Barrameda?" van Hoek scoffed.

"Oh, I can get us into that town, Cap'n," Jack said.

AFTER THE HEAT of midday had broken, they rowed north, keeping the salt-pans to starboard. Their s.h.i.+p was a galleot or half-galley, driven by two lateen sails (which were of little use today, as the wind was feeble and inconstant) and sixteen pairs of oars. Each of the thirty-two oars was pulled by two men, so the full complement of rowers was sixty-four. Like everything else about the Plan, this was a choice carefully made. A giant war-galley of Barbary, with two dozen oar-banks, and five or six slaves on each oar, and a hundred armed Corsairs crowding the rails, would of course bring down the wrath of the Spanish fleet as soon as she was sighted. Smaller galleys, called bergantines, carried only a third as many oarsmen as the galleot that they were now rowing across the Gulf of Cadiz. But on such a tiny vessel it was infeasible, or at least unprofitable, to maintain oar-slaves, and so the rowers would be freemen; rowing alongside a larger s.h.i.+p they'd s.n.a.t.c.h up cutla.s.ses and pistols and go into action as Corsairs. A bergantine, for that reason, would arouse more suspicion than this (much larger) galleot; it would be seen as a nimble platform for up to three dozen boarders, whereas the galleot's crew (not counting chained slaves) was much smaller-in this case, only eight Corsairs, pretending to be peaceful traders. of midday had broken, they rowed north, keeping the salt-pans to starboard. Their s.h.i.+p was a galleot or half-galley, driven by two lateen sails (which were of little use today, as the wind was feeble and inconstant) and sixteen pairs of oars. Each of the thirty-two oars was pulled by two men, so the full complement of rowers was sixty-four. Like everything else about the Plan, this was a choice carefully made. A giant war-galley of Barbary, with two dozen oar-banks, and five or six slaves on each oar, and a hundred armed Corsairs crowding the rails, would of course bring down the wrath of the Spanish fleet as soon as she was sighted. Smaller galleys, called bergantines, carried only a third as many oarsmen as the galleot that they were now rowing across the Gulf of Cadiz. But on such a tiny vessel it was infeasible, or at least unprofitable, to maintain oar-slaves, and so the rowers would be freemen; rowing alongside a larger s.h.i.+p they'd s.n.a.t.c.h up cutla.s.ses and pistols and go into action as Corsairs. A bergantine, for that reason, would arouse more suspicion than this (much larger) galleot; it would be seen as a nimble platform for up to three dozen boarders, whereas the galleot's crew (not counting chained slaves) was much smaller-in this case, only eight Corsairs, pretending to be peaceful traders.

The galleot was shaped like a gunpowder scoop. Beneath the bare feet of the oarsmen there was loose planking, covering a shallow bilge, but other than that there was no decking-the vessel was open on the top along its entire length, save for a quarterdeck at the stern, which in the typical style of these vessels was curved very high out of the water. So any lookout gazing down into the galleot would clearly see a few dozen naked wretches in chains, and cargo packed around and under their benches: rolled carpets, bundles of hides and of linen, barrels of dates and olive oil. A spindly swivel-gun at the bow, and another at the stern, both fouled by lines and cargo, completed the illusion that the galleot was all but helpless. It would take a closer inspection to reveal that the oarsmen were uncommonly strong and fresh: the best that the slave-markets of Algiers had to offer. The ten partic.i.p.ants in the Plan were distributed in outboard positions, the better to peer through oarlocks.

"In this calm we'll have at least a night and a day to await the Viceroy's s.h.i.+p," Jack noted.

"Much hangs on the tides," van Hoek said. "We want a low tide in the night-time. And the weather must remain calm, so that we can row away from any pursuers during the hours of darkness. At sunrise the wind will come up, and then anyone who can see us will be able to catch us..." His voice trailed off to a mumble as he pondered these and other complications, which had seemed hardly worth mentioning when they had been developing the Plan, and now, like shadows at sunset, stretched out vast, vague, and terrifying.

The bra.s.sy light of late afternoon was gleaming in through their larboard oar-locks when the galleot sank slightly lower into the water, and began to quiver and squirm in a current. At first they did not even recognize it-this was the first river of any significance they'd encountered since pa.s.sing Gibraltar, or for that matter since leaving Algiers. Jack knew in his arms and his back why the Moors who'd roved up this way ages ago had named it al-Wadi al-Kabir, the Great River. When Jeronimo felt it tugging at his oar, he stood up and thrust an arm through his oar-lock to clip the top of a wave with one cupped hand. Slurping up a mouthful of water, he coughed, and then affected a blissful expression. "It is fresh water, the water of the Guadalquivir, rus.h.i.+ng down from the mountains of my ancestors," he announced, and more in that vein. During this ceremony his oar did not move, which meant that no oars on that side could.

"Speaking personally," Jack said loudly, "I have more experience of sewers than of mountain streams, and cannot believe we have come all this distance to row in circles in the run-off of Seville and Cordoba!"

Jeronimo thrust out his chest and prepared to challenge Jack to a duel-but then the nerf du boeuf nerf du boeuf came down across the Spaniard's shoulder blades as their overseer reminded them that they were yet slaves. Jack wondered how long it would take Jeronimo to get into a sword-fight after he was allowed to have a sword. came down across the Spaniard's shoulder blades as their overseer reminded them that they were yet slaves. Jack wondered how long it would take Jeronimo to get into a sword-fight after he was allowed to have a sword.

The next few hours provided more reminders of their lowly station in the world as they stroked upstream with the sun clawing at their faces. Van Hoek cursed almost without letup, and Jack reflected that, for an officer, nothing could be more humiliating than to face backwards, and never see where you were headed. But at some point they began to see tops of masts around them, and heard the blessed sound of the anchor-chains rumbling through their hawse-holes, and bent forward over their warm oars to stretch out the muscles of their backs.

Nasr al-Ghurab, the rais, rais, was was kul oglari, kul oglari, meaning the son of a Janissary by a woman native to the territory round Algiers-in any event, he spoke pa.s.sable Spanish as well as Sabir. In the latter tongue, he now said, "Bring out the spare wretches." Planking was pulled up and four damp oar-slaves climbed out of the bilge and quickly replaced Jack, Moseh, Jeronimo, and van Hoek. This took place under cover of a sail that had been spread out above them as if to be mended, so that any curious sailors who might be looking down from a yard or maintop of a nearby s.h.i.+p would not witness the enn.o.blement going on in the aisle of this newly arrived galleot. Meanwhile-in case anyone was counting heads-four of the Corsair crew retreated beneath the shade of the quarterdeck to take refreshment and doze. A canvas sack full of old clothes-looted from persons who were now captives in Algiers-was also brought up, and the four began to paw through it like children playing dress-up. meaning the son of a Janissary by a woman native to the territory round Algiers-in any event, he spoke pa.s.sable Spanish as well as Sabir. In the latter tongue, he now said, "Bring out the spare wretches." Planking was pulled up and four damp oar-slaves climbed out of the bilge and quickly replaced Jack, Moseh, Jeronimo, and van Hoek. This took place under cover of a sail that had been spread out above them as if to be mended, so that any curious sailors who might be looking down from a yard or maintop of a nearby s.h.i.+p would not witness the enn.o.blement going on in the aisle of this newly arrived galleot. Meanwhile-in case anyone was counting heads-four of the Corsair crew retreated beneath the shade of the quarterdeck to take refreshment and doze. A canvas sack full of old clothes-looted from persons who were now captives in Algiers-was also brought up, and the four began to paw through it like children playing dress-up.