Gürkan’s eyes were glittering. “They are here on your ship?”
“Yes, but you’ll not have them until we can arrange an exchange.”
Gürkan leaned back in his throne chair and smiled with vicious pleasure. “The women sound interesting, but there will be no exchange, my stupid, gullible cousin! After your woman wrote her letter to you, I had her strangled along with the two brats. I will not have such tainted blood in my harem.”
It took a moment to understand the shocking words. Then agonizing grief blazed through Malek. Maddened with pain and with nothing left to lose, he lunged at Gürkan, wrestling his cousin from the chair, then slamming him with his fists and knees and howling with rage as he tried to kill the other man with his bare hands.
Gürkan screamed and clenched his groin, blood streaming from his face. Before Malek could throttle the monster, his cousin’s guards rushed forward and dragged him away, then slammed him to the marble floor. Malek fought back with every dirty fighting trick he’d ever learned, hoping he’d hurt them before he died.
But he was not granted the mercy of death. “Don’t kill him!” Gürkan screamed as four guards hit and kicked their prey. “I want to keep him alive. He must suffer!”
Face twisted with pain, Gürkan staggered to his feet and lurched to his captive’s side. Malek was pleased to see that his cousin was bent over from the damage to his genitals, his nose was broken and bleeding, and he’d have black eyes and massive bruises. The damage was far less than he deserved, but better than nothing.
“Your family died quickly,” Gürkan growled, “but you will go into my black hole until you rot and rats gnaw your bones!” He spat into Malek’s face with bleeding lips.
“Take him away!” Gürkan said to the four guardsmen who had captured Malek. To the other half-dozen guards, he said, “Go to the men who came with him and give them beatings, but not so badly that they can’t stagger back to their ship. Tell their fellows that their master and his family have died like dogs, and the ship must sail by noon tomorrow, or I will have it impounded and everyone on board imprisoned.”
Malek was half unconscious, but as he was dragged from the throne room, he wondered dispassionately how long it would take him to die.
Perhaps, Allah willing, Hawkins would be able to escape with the English ladies. He hoped so.
Chapter 24
Gabriel was grateful for Malek’s guide. Compact and heavily bearded, Boran had a quiet air of authority. Besides knowing his way around the great sprawling city, he spoke some English and good French. As they made their way to the embassy, he occasionally pointed out sights such as the magnificent mosques.
At any other time, Gabriel would have enjoyed the journey through a fascinating new city, but today his attention was on reaching the British embassy. Someone there should be able to tell him the legal situation of Rory and Constance, and if anything could be done to free them. If the embassy could not help, there would be nothing else to do but pray that Malek would be able to negotiate an agreement that would free his wife and children without bringing his English slaves into it.
Maybe when the animals were transferred to Gürkan’s menagerie, the lion would eat him. One could hope.
The British embassy was large, and walking inside was like stepping into an English manor house with numerous people busy about their business crisscrossing the large entry hall. Granted, there were splendid Turkish carpets laid down, but the same was true of English manor houses.
Sitting at a desk near the front door was what looked like a young gentleman of good family who was learning the diplomatic trade from the bottom up. Behind him stood a couple of British soldiers in red uniforms, their eyes alert as they scanned visitors.
Using his most commanding voice, Gabriel presented his consular credentials and asked to see the ambassador. The young man frowned. “I’m sorry, Captain Hawkins, but the ambassador is away for the next fortnight. Is there anyone else you’d like to see, or is this just a courtesy call?”
Gabriel needed to find someone with intelligence and experience. How should he word the request? Direct was usually best. “I’m here to discuss the situation of two wellborn English women who were captured and enslaved by corsairs. Who is the best person to speak with?”
“The ambassador’s secretary for special projects,” the young man said immediately. “I believe Mr. Ramsay is in.” He beckoned to a footman who was on duty. “I’ll send someone to see if he’s free.”
Gabriel couldn’t bring himself to sit still, so he paced the entry hall until the footman returned and gave his report. The young receptionist nodded and said to Gabriel, “Mr. Ramsay is free now. If you’ll follow Stevens, Captain Hawkins?”
Stevens led him up the stairs and to the back of the building, announced the visitor, then left. When Gabriel entered the office, he scanned his surroundings while waiting for the man working at the desk to look up. Ramsay’s office actually showed signs of being in a foreign country. The expected Turkish carpets were supplemented by Ottoman statuary and pottery and even older artifacts. Large maps of the city, the Mediterranean, and the Ottoman Empire were pinned to the walls.
Glad that this man might know the city, Gabriel said, “Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Ramsay.”
The dark-haired, hard-featured man at the desk looked up, and there was a moment of mutual shock. Gabriel said, “It’s been five years since we met in that cellar in Porto. I’m glad to see that you’re alive and well, if not named Chantry.”
Ramsay rose and came around the deck to offer his hand with a grin. “When the five of us parted company the next morning, it was acknowledged that we might be using names that don’t show up in our family Bibles. But you’re still Hawkins, I see.”
“Yes, though I admit it’s a middle name. There’s an additional name in my family’s Bible.” Assuming his existence hadn’t been scratched out by his grandfather.
Ramsay waved him to a seat. “I’ll ring for refreshments. Then I want to hear what you’ve been doing these last years. I gather you’re here on a matter of some urgency.”
Gabriel sat and began tersely describing how the ladies had been captured and enslaved, and Malek’s complicated situation. By the time a tray with tea and Turkish coffee and delicate Turkish pastries arrived, he’d covered the main points.
He stopped talking until the servant left, then asked, “If I were able to get the two ladies here to the embassy, would they be safe until they could return to England?”
Ramsay, who had been listening intently, frowned. “In theory, yes, but diplomatic immunity is not as strong a tradition here as it is in Europe. I know of Gürkan, and he’s an extremely powerful man with a reputation for bowing courteously to the viziers and behaving ruthlessly to his inferiors. Which means almost everyone. It’s not impossible that he would conjure a mob to attack the embassy, steal away the women, and then burn the place down to cover his tracks. Needless to say, the embassy would not like to be put in that position.”
Gabriel sighed. “I was afraid of that. If the women are handed over to Gürkan and put in his harem, would Britain have any success in demanding their return?”
Ramsay shook his head. “Harems are the most personal and private places in any household, particularly for a rich and powerful man. At this point, it’s best to see how the meeting between Malek and Gürkan goes.” His thoughtful gaze moved to the map of the city. “But if negotiations fail, there might be an unofficial way to help the ladies.”
“I hope to God you’re right!” Gabriel rose and offered his hand. “I’ll let you know how this plays out.”
“Please do. We can still hope the ladies will be freed from durance vile with no loss of lives on either side.”
Gabriel nodded agreement and left. But as he climbed into the carriage with Boran, he didn’t believe that would happen.
* * *
The Zephyr was quiet after Malek and Gabriel headed off on their missions. Rory and Constance visited the menage
rie in the morning, then worked on their current story. As noon approached they decided to stretch their legs and get some fresh air by strolling around the main deck.
“It’s a fascinating city,” Constance said as she stood by the railing and gazed out over the glittering domes and minarets. Multiple languages floated up from the sailors and dock workers. “So diverse!”
She had her drawing pad and was making quick sketches of the skyline. “I wish we could go out and explore.”
“So do I.” Rory suppressed a smile and adjusted her head scarf. Since it was possible they could be seen by men on the shore, they were at their most demure.
Jason Landers ambled up to join them. “Would you ladies like to look more closely? I brought my spyglass and the captain’s as well.”
“Oh, yes!” They each accepted a spyglass happily. The three of them chatted about what they could see, and avoided talk of the future.
Midday was a quiet time. Some of the ship’s crew and Malek’s men had gone ashore to sample the delights of an exotic new port. Half a dozen soldiers were on the deck standing guard, but most of the rest were below decks eating, repairing clothing, doing their laundry.
The quiet was disturbed by the sound of marching feet as a company of local soldiers emerged from one of the streets that led to the waterfront. Rory studied them with the spyglass. In their turbans and uniforms, they looked official and dangerous.
She lowered the spyglass, cold fear enfolding her. The soldiers were marching directly to the Zephyr’s berth.
Because crew members were coming and going, the gangway was down, guarded by two men at the top and two more at the bottom. The company marched to the foot of the gangway and the officer in charge announced himself to one of the guards on the wharf. Frowning, Jason said, “I’d better see what they want.”
He crossed to the gangway and was joined by Gadil, Malek’s captain of the guard, who could act as a translator. A discussion began, with voices getting louder and louder.
Rory and Constance set the spyglasses aside and moved closer so they could hear what was going on. The word “customs” was repeated several times.
Constance said, “Didn’t the ship go through customs when we reached the port?”
“Yes, but the inspection was fairly casual. They may have reason to want to go over the ship more carefully.” Though Rory was trying to be reasonable, the knot of anxiety in her chest was growing tighter and tighter.
Jason’s voice was very clear when he refused to allow the soldiers aboard. More words were exchanged through the translator. When Jason offered to show the inspection paperwork, he was told they had received information that the Zephyr carried contraband.
The customs official produced papers of his own. Gadil frowned as he scanned them. “Mr. Landers, they have authorization to search the ship and say they will bring up artillery and blow the Zephyr out of the water if you don’t allow them on board.”
Jason hesitated, then said reluctantly, “I’ll allow ten of them on board. That should be enough men to conduct their search.”
His offer was grudgingly accepted, and the captain of the customs men and several of his soldiers marched up the gangway. When they were on deck, the leader stood still and scanned the deck with narrowed eyes. He spotted Rory and Constance and shouted something in Turkish.
With sudden horror, Rory realized this was what the so-called customs inspection was really about. “They’re here for us, Constance! Split up and run!”
As she bolted to the left, Constance ran to her right toward the nearest companionway. Peace shattered into shouts and threats. The men who had boarded sprinted after Rory and Constance while the rest of the troop surged up the gangway and onto the ship.
Malek’s guards sprang into action and their shouts brought more of them from below deck, but they weren’t as prepared as the invaders. When Jason tried to stop the officer in charge, the man smashed his skull with the heavy barrel of his pistol.
Jason collapsed, blood splashing over the ship’s deck. Constance had been caught before she could go below, and she screamed when she saw him go down. Rory was also seized before she could get below decks.
As she fought, a heavy net was thrown over her, immobilizing her limbs and making resistance futile. She thrashed and screamed, hoping that some of the people on the wharf would respond, but the gathering crowd kept a wary distance.
A broad soldier tossed her over his shoulder, making it a struggle to breathe. He carried her down the gangway and dumped her unceremoniously into some kind of closed carriage with Constance and two soldiers. Only a couple of minutes had passed from the beginning of the assault to their removal from the ship.
As the carriage whipped away from the Zephyr at the fastest speed possible on the busy streets, Rory realized that the abductors must have been sent by Gürkan. The worst had happened, and she and Constance were doomed to a life of slavery.
Chapter 25
Gabriel returned to the Zephyr to find his ship recovering from battle. The guards at the bottom and top of the gangway had grim expressions and their weapons ready to hand. He raced up the gangway to discover blood on the deck and battered men being bandaged. Shocked, he snapped, “What the devil has happened here?”
Lane, his second mate, joined him, one arm in a sling. “A troop of official-looking soldiers arrived and said they had orders to search the ship for contraband,” he said succinctly. “Mr. Landers wouldn’t allow them to board till they threatened to blow the ship out of the water, so he let a few on.”
Once again aware of the weight of the alien empire surrounding him, Gabriel said, “It sounds like he didn’t have much choice. What then?”
Lane rubbed his forehead, leaving a streak of blood. “As soon as the devils were on board, they rushed at the ladies while the rest of their troops stormed the ship. There was a bloody great brawl until the ladies had been dragged to shore and carried off in a carriage. It was over almost before it started.”
Gabriel felt as if he’d been hit in the gut by a savagely swinging spar. No, this couldn’t be possible—Rory should be safe on his ship!
But she wasn’t. She and her cousin had been seized by brute force and taken to God only knew what future. He wanted to howl with pain, but a captain must always seem to be in control. “Were there any deaths or serious injuries among our people?”
“No, though Mr. Landers took quite a blow on the head. He was knocked out for a time, but the surgeon’s mate just told me he’s starting to wake up and doesn’t seem to have lost his wits.”
“I’ll talk to him. Has Malek returned?”
Captain Gadil, head of Malek’s guard, was approaching and he heard the question. “That swine Gürkan imprisoned Malek Reis! He may be dead already!”
He gestured to where two of his bloodied soldiers lay on the deck being treated for numerous injuries. “My men who escorted him were attacked and beaten and thrown out on the street. They were told to return to the ship and that we must leave the city by midday tomorrow, or everyone on board will be imprisoned and the ship impounded.”
It was another body blow. Gabriel asked tightly, “Was there any news of Malek Reis’s wife and children?”
The tough officer’s face crumpled. “Dead! All dead! Gürkan’s captain said that his master had them strangled not long after they were captured.”
Gabriel decided to hell with calm and swore with all the furious eloquence of a lifetime at sea. He wanted to invade Gürkan’s palace and slice the monster into small, bleeding pieces and feed them to pigs.
But what could he do? He forced himself to take a deep, slow breath and started to consider the possibilities. Assault was useless; even the combined forces of the ship and Malek’s guard wouldn’t stand a chance. Official intervention by the British embassy would also be useless.
Grimly he realized the only faint hope was Ramsay, one of his companions on that long-ago night of terror and courage. He’d listened with intelligence and sympathy
this morning. Maybe, just maybe . . .
Boran had followed Gabriel onto the ship, so Gabriel turned to him. “Catch the carriage before it leaves, Mülazım. We’re going to the embassy again. The ladies are too valuable for Gürkan to kill, and if we act quickly, Malek might still be alive. I’ll join you on the wharf in a few minutes.”
Boran nodded, his expression grim. “Yes, sir.”
Gabriel turned back to his second mate. “Take me to Mr. Landers.”
Lane led him down to Malek’s cabin. Gabriel understood the bleak practicality of putting the injured man there since Malek might never return.
His first mate had bled copiously from the head wound and had a scarlet-drenched bandage around his auburn hair. The Spook was curled up on the far corner of the mattress, tail twitching and an anxious expression on his long furry face. He was good at offering comfort when times were dire.
Seeing Gabriel, Jason struggled to sit up, but the surgeon’s mate shoved him flat again. “Lie still, Mr. Landers!”
Jason obeyed, but his eyes were wild. “Captain, they took Constance and Lady Aurora!” he said raggedly. “I couldn’t stop them!”
“With the numbers they had, no one could have. I’m guessing the attackers were Gürkan’s men. Did you hear anything to confirm that?”
Jason took a deep breath, struggling for control. “I heard the name Gürkan mentioned. Captain Gadil was acting as translator so he can tell you more.”
“I’ll talk to him, then return to the embassy. The man I met with there said perhaps something could be done unofficially. Mr. Lane has the command. Don’t try to get up too soon.” He touched Jason’s shoulder. “All hope isn’t gone yet.”
Jason exhaled roughly. “I’ll see if I remember any prayers.”
Gabriel turned and headed up the steps to talk with Gadil. The captain of the guard confirmed that the attackers had surely been sent by Gürkan. Malek’s cousin held a high post in the customs service, and it wouldn’t have been difficult for him to forge papers and send men to the Zephyr.
Once a Scoundrel Page 18
