Several minutes passed, and it became clear that the unknown vessel was moving at a leisurely pace. The splashes of the oars were slow and unhurried, the sound increasing only gradually. Izzet’s own rowers settled in their places and dipped the blades of their thirty-foot-long sweeps quietly into the sea, awaiting orders. Some were looking expectantly towards Turgut on the stern deck, others half-turned, trying to peer out into the mist. Abruptly, through the mist, came a cry, ‘Sieme! Sieme!’ Dunton mouthed, ‘Together! Together!’ and made a rowing gesture. Moments later, a dark patch in the mist became the unmistakable shape of an oared vessel, and there was a startled shout, ‘Aia! What ship?’ ‘Izzet Darya! In the Name of Allah,’ roared back Turgut. The advancing galley had stopped rowing, but her momentum carried her forward so that she could be clearly seen as a brigantine, an oared vessel about half the size of Izzet Darya. ‘Merhaba, welcome! From what port?’ called Turgut. ‘From Djidjelli. Corsan!’ The tension aboard Izzet Darya relaxed. ‘Fellow corsairs from Barbary,’ explained Dunton. ‘Hunting the same patch of sea.’
Hector’s knowledge of Turkish was good enough to follow the shouted conversation between Turgut and the captain of the newcomer. The brigantine had been on the corso for less than a week, and had managed to intercept three infidel vessels, two Spanish and the third French. None of the prizes were very valuable, but the captain of the French ship had curried favour with his captors by telling the corsairs that he had sighted a large merchantman, of unknown nationality, hull down on the horizon and apparently heading towards Leghorn. In pursuit of this potential prize the brigantine had ventured north hoping to intercept the vessel which would now be delayed by the calm. ‘Have you seen any of those shaitans from Malta?’ called Turgut.
‘No, nothing. It’s too early in the season for them. They like to lie in bed with their harlots,’ came the reply.
‘Will we join forces then?’ enquired Turgut.
‘D’accordo!’ came back the reply. ‘One hand makes nothing, two hands make a sound.’
Turgut smiled into his beard at the Turkish proverb as he called back, ‘We wait until the mist lifts, then spread out but stay in sight of one another, and cruise northward.’
‘Agreed! And may Allah go with us.’
‘Our luck has changed!’ said Turgut cheerfully, coming back across the deck. ‘Let the storemen issue a double ration so we may eat our fill, and be ready for what fortune brings.’ Dunton went forward to rejoin his shipmates and, as Dan took his meals with the odjaks, who had their own achtchi or camp cook, Hector found himself seated on the aft deck with the captain and his officers as they ate a simple meal of falafel and bread. From time to time the captain glanced across at the brigantine which lay hove-to half a musket shot away. He continued to be in a good mood.
‘Allah has been kind to us,’ he said to Hector. ‘Having a second ship means we can sweep a wider swathe of sea in search of prizes. And should we find only small coasters, the brigantine is fast enough to catch them easily. It will save us from having to lower our ship’s boats, and that means fewer visitas for you.’
‘The brigantine comes from Djidjelli,’ Hector observed. ‘Already you have a drawing of their harbour in your files, but if you wish I could go across and interview their captain and update the information.’
‘Maybe later,’ answered Turgut. ‘Less than four years ago I was in their port, not a good harbour, shallow and exposed but adequate if you want to take on supplies. The ruler of Djidjelli acknowledges the Dey as his overlord, and we leave him to his own devices. Just so that he does not interfere with our corsos. The same is true of Bougie a short distance down the coast. Let us hope that his information about the rich merchant ship turns out to be correct.’
‘Your excellency, if we do find and capture this ship how would we divide the spoils? The brigantine brought the news, so does her crew have first choice?’
‘A shrewd question, and the answer is that together we return to Algiers, with our prize. In Algiers the division is made by a court of arbitration composed of senior reis who decide on matters of precedence, acts of valour in the fight and so forth.’
‘And do they also decide who receives the prisoners as their reward?’
‘Of course. Often the value of the prisoners exceeds the value of the captured hull.’
‘And if we capture women, for example, where would they be held?’
Turgut looked at Hector searchingly. ‘Do you have a special reason to ask that question, and is that why you volunteered to visit the brigantine?’
‘Forgive me for asking, effendi. When I was taken by the corsair Hakim Reis, my sister was also captured. She was placed on one ship, while I was kept on another. Since that time I have not seen her. I wish to learn what might have happened to her, and where she is now.’
‘Tell me the details, as best as you remember them.’
Hector recounted the story of his capture and when he finished his account, Turgut paused to take a sip of coffee before replying, ‘I did not meet Hakim Reis after that venture when he raided Ireland. He was always lucky on the corso, quick to pick up prizes and welcome in any port to sell them. It would be normal for him to keep the women captives apart from their menfolk. I would do the same myself. The men are less likely to make trouble if they see their women could be punished. But I would have expected Hakim Reis and his escorting vessel to have entered their final harbour together and disposed of the booty in the same market place. That makes the final division of the profits easier as I have explained. I can only suppose that something happened to separate Hakim Reis from his raiding consort. You mentioned some sort of exchange of gunfire.’
‘And where might the other ship have gone?’ asked Hector. ‘Could it have gone to Djidjelli or to Bougie? Is that where I should look for my sister?’
‘If you volunteered to visit the brigantine in order to ask if anyone knew about her, then I’m afraid your enquiry would have been futile. Had the women captives been sold in Djidjelli, or Bougie for that matter, the news would have reached Algiers which is not so far away. No, I think your sister was taken farther afield.’ Seeing the disappointment in Hector’s face, he added, ‘You must not be too hard on yourself. Consider your own captivity. You must admit, it has not turned out to be so disastrous. Here you are aboard a fine ship and one of Muhammad’s people. Hakim Reis was right when he told you that, with luck, you could yourself rise to command. For all you know, your sister might be much happier than you fear.’
‘It is difficult to think with such optimism, effendi. I still feel responsible for her well-being.’
‘Hassan Irlanda,’ said Turgut kindly. ‘In Turkey we have a saying – “patience is the key to Paradise.” We must all accept the fate that Allah decrees. Keep up your search for your sister, but pursue it in the knowledge that it may never reach a conclusion. Rest assured that your sister will have been treated well. She would have been classified as murtafa’at; that is, first class. Wherever your sister was brought ashore for sale, everything about her would have been recorded by the amina, the woman inspector who examined her. Even as a conscientious jeweller notes the qualities of a special gem, her good points, the nu’ut, and her defects, the uyub, will have been written down. Somewhere that record and description of your sister still survives. Find it and you will be on the trail of your sister. Or find someone who sailed with Hakim Reis on that corso or, better still, find Hakim Reis himself. Then ask why the vessels were separated and where the missing ship would have gone.’