Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Days slip quickly when you want them to last. Seven more passed with little progress, and Lily’s time moved inexorably closer. No rescue appeared on the horizon. No word came from Gibraltar. No prayers saw answer.
Lily tried to walk serenely through each day.
Every morning she sat with the women, grinding grain and exchanging languages as if they were family friends and not strangers who would sell her and her baby into bondage as easily as they would converse with her.
Every night she clung to Richard and accepted the comfort he tried to pour into her with his gentle touch.
Every day she smiled. Every day she felt shadows shroud her soul. Every day her hand slipped more often to protect her growing belly. Every afternoon she climbed the cliffs to hope for rescue.
Weeks into their imprisonment Richard climbed with her as he often did. The steps had become more difficult, and he put an arm to her waist to help her.
“You shouldn’t do this,” he said.
“Exercise is good for me,” she replied, breathing heavily.
“That may have been true last week. No longer.”
“Will you forbid it?” she asked, raising one eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t dare,” he said wryly. “I only advise.”
Lily tried to ignore the worry lines she watched grow deeper on his face daily. She put one foot in front of the other. A few steps later she wondered if he might be right. The climb grew more difficult.
At the top, he sat her on a mossy rock to catch her breath. Hamidou’s lookout gave an embarrassed nod and looked away as the boys always did. This one looked particularly young; Lily guessed him to be nine or ten.
Richard stepped up onto the rock above her. Lily craned her neck to look and saw that he scanned the wide Mediterranean, looking northward as he always did toward Gibraltar. She relaxed back down and turned her own eyes toward the coast.
Blue fog clung to the coast late this day. Lily watched while it began to thin and scatter. While she watched, a flicker of movement caught her attention. At first she thought she imagined it; she didn’t. She rose to her feet in excitement.
“Richard! There—what’s happening?” she called, pointing toward the moving object.
The lookout leapt to his feet and followed her pointed finger. He ran to the edge and shouted down to men in the village and then pelted down the hill.
“It certainly excited our little friend.” Richard had climbed down and stood next to her. “It’s a ship, but what kind?”
“It looks like four masts.”
“Whose do you think it is?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Too far to tell.” Hamidou’s frigate had returned several days before and sat at anchor in the cove.
“It is coming from the south. Could it be English?”
“Possible, but I wouldn’t count on it. It is sailing directly at us, though.”
They stood and watched the ship draw nearer.
“Dutch,” Richard said, “From the looks. I don’t see the flag.”
The ship neared the island and moved away from the shoals on the East, turning toward the cove on the north side.
“Not the Union flag, not one of ours,” Lily sighed. “What do you think is happening?”
“At a guess, it looks like the pennant of the Bey of Tunis.”
Tunis. The slave market. Lily gripped Richard’s hand fiercely. “It has only been twenty-seven days!” Hamidou cannot be trusted.
Richard put an arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. He leaned to kiss the top of her head. “Don’t leap to assumptions, Lily. It may be a friendly visit.”
When they made their slow and plodding way down the path, hindered by Lily’s girth and Richard’s determination to protect, they found the village alive with excitement. Friendly visit indeed.
She could see the visitors, obviously Berbers, appear over the rise and march toward the square. Richard steered her in that direction when she would have fled to their hut.
“Better to know soonest,” he said.
Hamidou and his uncle stood in front of the house in welcome. Scarface stood at Hamidou’s right. The sight made Lily’s heart race. Scarface’s mouth twisted into a mockery of a smile.
Just as the men from Tunis entered the square, a ripple of talk erupted at Scarface’s right shoulder and drew her attention.
Before she could wonder about the cause, two men dragged Volkov into the square and dropped him in front of Hamidou.
He looked painfully thin but no worse than they had seen him before.
The Tunisian leader greeted Hamidou and immediately began to inspect the man on the ground. His scowl deepened moment by moment. He looked up at Hamidou and let lose a torrent of words in Berber, too much and too fast for Lily to understand.
“He says this one is worthless.” Izza had slipped in next to Lily. “He offers little coin,” she said disdainfully. “He asks why Rais takes no care of the—” Izza bit her lip as if trying to recall a word.
“Merchandise?” Lily suggested.
A bright smile lit Izza’s face. “Yes, Lady.” Her lips formed the new word silently as if she wanted to store it for future use.
“Rais says this one cheated him. Says lowest dog of infidel.”
The Tunisian prodded Volkov with his foot. The Russian jerked away. He’s alive at least.
Richard’s arm came around Lily’s shoulder when the Tunisian turned abruptly and eyed them with a thoroughness that made her knees buckle. She righted herself. “You must not show fear,” Richard said. She breathed in and lifted her chin. He had called her courageous; she did not want to fail him.
The Tunisian agent spoke to Hamidou without taking his eyes off Lily.
“He wishes to know how much for you, Zambak,” Izza said. “He offers much.” Izza’s eyes glowed as if a high slave price could be an honor.
“Rais said no, did he not?” Lily asked her.
“He say ‘not now.’ Says he gave his word there will be more days.” She held up ten fingers and waved them three times.
Thirty days? “Thirty-three,” Lily corrected.
Scarface spat some words at Hamidou, who stopped him. Scarface turned in disgust and went into the house.
Izza shook her head. “Disrespect to argue with Rais in front of strangers,” she said.
More talk, which Lily took to be haggling, went on less dramatically. When they finished, Izza frowned. “Price very low. Not enough to buy grain for winter.”
The Tunisian gave an order, and his men began to drag Volkov to the cove. He turned and spoke again to Hamidou before turning on his heels to follow his men.
“He say, ‘I’ll be back,’” Izza said. She wrinkled her brown eyes and tried to remember the word, “In Thirty days!” she concluded proudly. “He will pay much,” Izza continued, a wide smile spreading across her face.
“Thirty-three,” Lily murmured, dreading what might happen. “Pray God we’re gone by then.”
“King’s knight to his bishop’s third.”
Richard stared at Hamidou’s move and attempted to focus.
It was damned difficult to remember strategy while attending to the words of eight men conversing around him.
So far only one word stood out: English.
English what? Fleet? Navy? More likely poor hapless English lord.
Me. Lily could puzzle it out more quickly.
He fingered a rough-hewn piece. The squarely cut chessmen looked crude but recognizable. “Queen’s knight to her bishop’s third,” he said, mirroring his opponent. Not terribly inspired.
Eight perfunctory moves by Richard later Hamidou slid a knight into place. “Checkmate,” he said.
Richard sat back in his seat. I don’t remember the last time I had lost a game before coming to this God-forsaken island. I’m losing my mind.
“Not well played,” Hamidou said, shaking his head. “You may hope your bigger game plays out better.”
“Bigger game?” Richard feared he knew the answer.
“Thirty-three more days, English.” Hamidou took a sip of tea. “As I told my Tunisian friend.”
“I understand he offered you a lot of money.”
Hamidou shrugged. “We’ll see what your government offers in the end,” he said.
The offer must not have matched. Praise God for that.
Scarface looked up from a game five feet away and snarled something. Richard had no idea what.
“Our Tunisian friends do business. They do not threaten our people,” Hamidou continued as if Scarface hadn’t spoken. “If your game includes harm to this village—” He left the threat implied.
“I gave my word.”
“I gave mine. We’ll see whose carries weight. The game isn’t over, my English friend.”