The next blow took Xavier squarely on his back. His head hit the cobblestones, and for a moment his world turned black. Then white-hot stars began shooting in front of his eyes. He strained to hear her cries, but heard only Turkish and Arabic murmured above him, around him, and shouted commands.
He was hauled to his feet as his vision cleared. Xavier got one more glimpse of her from the corner of his eyes. Murad was dragging her away. Alexandra—dressed as a wealthy Moslem woman.
But surely it was a disguise.
Xavier suddenly realized who stood beside him. He stiffened, and faced Jovar.
Peter Cameron also stared after Alexandra’s heavily veiled form.
16
XAVIER DID NOTlike the look of the bagnio.
It was a large, heavily guarded rectangular compound set directly behind the palace. The walls were thick gray stone. Xavier was halted by his escort as a massive wooden door was opened. Then he was shoved forward, inside.
He had entered a large, vaulted guardroom. Although it was dark inside, Xavier immediately spotted the three Turkish soldiers stationed there. Handcuffs, fetters, and shackles of all shapes and sizes hung on the walls, as did numerous implements that were clearly designed for cruelty and torture. A chill raced up Xavier’s spine.
How many of his men had survived? How badly had they suffered from the cruelty that the Turks and Barbary pirates were infamous for?
“Your new home,” Jovar said, his blue eyes gleaming.
Xavier did not reply.
A big, mustached Turk stepped forward. A broken nose dominated his long, oval face. “Another slave?”
“Yes,” Jovar replied. He looked at Xavier. “Kadar is the guardian pasha of the bagnio. Your welfare—and life—rest in his hands.”
Xavier met Kadar’s unblinking black eyes. He could discern no emotion there. That disturbed him far more than had he seen open cruelty or malice.
Jovar’s mouth stretched into a cool smile. “Perhaps you might wish to welcome Captain Blackwell to the bagnio, Kadar.”
Kadar grunted.
Jovar took his arm and the two men stepped out of earshot. Xavier watched them. He had no doubt that Jovar was giving Kadar instructions about himself, instructions that would endanger his welfare and his life.
Kadar gestured. He was the only Tripolitan Xavier had so far encountered who was larger and taller than himself. As Xavier obeyed Kadar, stepping forward, one of the Turks shoved him, making him stumble into a vaulted tunnel. Xavier ignored the provocation. Wall sconces illuminated the wide passageway. He kept his eyes open, but saw no locked doors that might lead into another section of the bagnio, or outside and to freedom.
A few moments later Xavier found himself in a spacious gravel courtyard flanked by balconies and a maze of smaller chambers. At the far end of the courtyard was a pair of stone arches, atop which was a long, flat terrace. Below the terrace Xavier saw numerous open chambers where craftsmen were at work. He saw cobblers, carpenters, jewelers. In one of the cubbies a scribe was using a quill and inkwell, working on parchment. The scribe paused, regarding Xavier and the soldiers out of unblinking eyes.
Another chamber was a tavern. Several men, including slaves, were standing at a small counter, quaffing their drinks and served by a fat Moor. Xavier stared, well aware that alcohol was forbidden the strict Moslem. Yet one of the men at the counter was clearly a Moslem, as was the tavern-keeper.
Xavier glanced around again. The bagnio was a prison, but it was also an isolated, self-sustaining community.
And it was not empty, either. The moment Xavier had stepped into the courtyard, he had seen several of his men in the tavern, a few others sleeping on cane mats on the terrace.
Then from behind him came a wonderfully familiar voice. “Cap’n, sir,” Timmy cried.
Xavier turned. His cabin boy’s blue eyes were wet with tears. Xavier didn’t hesitate. He scooped the thin boy up into his arms, embracing him the way a father would his son.
“Captain, sir!” Tubbs said from behind them, pounding Xavier on the back.
But before Xavier could turn to Tubbs, he had released Timmy and was staring at his puffy, cut lip, while noticing the fact that the boy was clad solely in trousers that were little more than tattered rags.
Xavier jerked to Tubbs, saw that he was as scantily dressed, and that his face was also bruised. An instant later he saw the marks on Tubbs’s bare back. He was surrounded now by all of his men, and his glance quickly roamed their happy but anxious faces. He saw relief in their eyes. “What happened?” he asked sharply, for it was quite clear that many of his men had been mistreated and beaten. He was careful to control his anger.
But now he had even more reason for revenge.
“Sir, we been treated like dogs, an’ we’re starvin',” the young seaman Allen said.
