Our sailors also arm themselves and prepare to do their part as we have repeatedly practiced ever since we rowed out of Limassol - before they pull the sails over themselves to hide, the sailors on the cogs carefully coil the lines with grappling hooks attached and place them all along the edges of the deck on both sides of each cog.
By the time the sailors on our two cogs hurriedly finish their preparations all that remains on their decks are three or four sailor men pretending to be running about looking for a way to escape – which is what the pirates usually see when they close in on a merchant ship. When the pirates get really close the men on the cogs’ decks, our most experienced swordsmen, will pretend to dive into their cargo holds to hide – and pick up the shields and swords that are waiting for them just out of sight.
“If we’ve done this right,” I once again say to Harold who is standing next to me as we watch the pirate galleys rapidly closing on us, “everything will look normal to the pirates and they’ll grapple us and try to board.”
I’m talking too much. I must be nervous.
Our galleys are doing something similar in that the shields that normally hang on the deck railings and mark them as war galleys have been hidden and there are only rowers at a few of the upper bank of oars and a few armed men standing on their decks. That’s what pirate lookouts expect to see if they are looking at cargo galleys or seriously under strength war galleys.
Only if one looks closely, which the pirates’ lookouts obviously cannot at this distance, will they be able to see that each of the dozen or so rowers on the benches of the three galleys’ upper oar banks has a rope and grapple under his seat as well as either a bow and quiver or a sword and shield. And what the lookouts on the pirates’ masts can’t see at all on each galley are the large numbers of archers and men at arms who are jammed in under the deck where the slaves usually sit - and ready to rush up the stairs and enter the fight.
When the pirate galleys get a bit closer to the two cogs our three apparently under strength galleys, one after another, start backing their oars and turning away as if they intend to avoid a fight and flee without trying to defend the cogs. If our plan works, the pirates will keep coming and board the cogs because they think our outnumbered galleys do not intend to fight. And that’s exactly what they do.
I’m in the crew’s castle at the rear of our cog and can see and hear everything. Randolph and Yoram are in the same place on our sister cog and undoubtedly doing what Harold and I are doing – watching the approaching pirates closely and shouting orders as loud as possible to steady the men so they don’t reveal themselves too early.
Galleys sit much lower to the water than cogs so I can only see the stubby masts of the pirate galleys once they get close alongside. They are going to board us from both sides simultaneously. I’m so excited I’m almost shaking - and all I can do is try to steady the men and keep a close eye on the ugly heathen who have climbed the pirate galleys’ masts to act as their lookouts.
“Steady…. Everyone stay under cover…. They haven’t reached us yet…. Steady…. Everyone hold their positions…. Wait for it…. Grapples ready….Steady…”
Everything happens at once when the first two pirate galleys reach our cog almost simultaneously. Suddenly there are a series of loud “clunks” on both sides of our deck as the pirates begin throwing grappling irons and using them to pull their galleys up against the side of our cog.
Then the hull of the cog shudders slightly as each of the galleys is pulled against it. It doesn’t take long before the head of the first pirate appears and he begins to climb over our deck railing and board us on the starboard side. They’re close enough.
“Grapples Now,” I scream. “Grapples Now.”
All along both sides of our cog our sailors throw back the spare sails they’ve been hiding under and scrambled to the deck railing to toss their grappling lines. Our archers and men at arms who’ve been hiding with them come out right behind the grapple throwing sailors and others of our men come pouring up out of the cargo hold.
I watch the beginning of the fight while I’m still looking out of the cracked open castle door and holding my hand up behind me to keep the men behind me in the cabin from charging out to join it. I’m holding them in reserve as we have been planning and practicing for the past two days. Harold is in the smaller castle up front doing the same with a smaller number of men. He’ll send his men into the fight as soon as he sees me sending mine.
From where I’m watching I can see the lookouts on the pirate masts. The incredulous and dismayed expressions on their faces are a sight to see when they finally understand what is happening.
Some of the pirates actually succeed in climbing on to our deck before they realize they’ve been played for fools and ambushed. Most of them don’t get that far - it’s hard to fight when you are trying to climb over a ship’s railing while an experienced soldier is stabbing at you with his sword and archers are leaning over the rail shooting a steady stream of arrows at the men coming up behind you.
A few seconds later I fling open the door of the deck castle where we’re concealed and stand aside for the breastplate and helmet wearing knights and men at arms who have been hiding with me. They charge past me screaming their battle cries and crash into the handful of pirate boarders who actually made it to our deck. I wonder who the pirates are; they look like Arabs.
It seems like it takes forever but, in fact, it is all over in seconds except for a few pirates on the starboard galley; they escape our archers’ arrows by diving down the hatch into the lower tier of rowers with their cowering slaves – and promptly get strangled and, for one poor soul, literally torn to pieces by their slaves for their trouble.
Our own galleys arrive soon thereafter and also grapple the pirate galleys. But the fight is mostly over by the time our galley crews surge on to the decks of the two pirate galleys being held against our cog by all the grapples. Indeed, for a few seconds there are so many of our men on the decks of the two pirate galleys that several of our men are hit by friendly shots from the cog’s overly excited archers.
Damn, it’s hard to tell who is who – in the future we ought to give our men some kind of insignia or tunics so the archers don’t make mistakes.
Things do not go nearly as well for the cog whose fighting men are commanded by Randolph. The lookouts on the masts of the pirate galleys going for his cog see our ambush in time to warn their galleys to turn away and avoid being taken. One of them gets so close before the desperate shouts of its lookout cause it to turn it away that some of Randolph’s grapplers throw their grapples in an effort to catch it. They fall short.
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It seems both of the pirate galleys we’ve captured come from some place called Tunis on the African coast. At least that’s what the galley slaves on their lower banks of oars are finally able to tell us - after we throw the dead and wounded pirates overboard and I tell off some of our sailors and fighting men to act as prize crews on our new ships.
The pirates’ slaves are a scraggly and sickly looking group, and mostly very black. But some are obviously Arabs and there’s even a fellow with blond hair no one can understand. We find about forty slaves on the lower rowing deck of each of the pirate galleys - and they become absolutely thrilled and start weeping and crying out loudly to us and each other when we begin taking off their chains and they learn they will be free.
We’ll send them ashore as free men when we get to Alexandria except for those who want to stay with us and have skills we can use. If necessary, some of our sailors and fighting men from our cogs will act as prize crews and take their places on the rowing benches when rowing is needed for the trip back to Cyprus.
I don’t know what Aaron and the merchants will do to crew their cogs after we reach Alexandria. They own them now and our contract is to do our best to get the cogs safely to Egypt and then take our men off them and leave. Perhaps some of the cogs’ sailors will want to stay with them. We’ll take those
that don’t.
“Aaron, what are your plans for the cogs after we reach Alexandria?”
Chapter Fifteen
“THE ASSASSINS”
We can clearly hear a Moslem muezzin calling the faithful to prayer as we silently slide into the Alexandria harbor. The wind is light and blowing outwards from the shore so we are using the galleys to tow the cogs in. Perhaps that’s why there is so much space available at the docks and the smell in the air is so terrible.
It’s the first time I’ve ever been here. Alexandria is obviously a very big city with a very large harbor crammed full of all kinds of ships including some with very strange designs. It apparently has a Moslem ruler and a diverse population including many Christians and Jews.
Yoram says he’d heard that more than twenty thousand people live here; Harold disagrees - he says it is even bigger, more like fifty thousand. Whatever the number it certainly is bigger and more bustling than any city I’ve ever seen, including London. And it surely is a lot warmer and just as foul smelling too.
Fortunately there are a lot of docks inside the harbor and winds are favorable for outbound shipping. As a result, many of the docks are available and we have no problem finding one with space for our galleys and cogs.
A number of people walk towards us and gawk as our cogs are slowly towed up to the dock and the dockworkers prepare to tie them up – including several men who seem to get quite upset when they see the two pirate galleys rowing in behind us as our prizes.
“Aaron, do you see those two men standing over there where Bob’s sailors are mooring the second pirate galley, the ones who seem to be arguing with each other and waving their hands about? Do you know them?”
“No Lord William, I do not. I’ve never seen them before. But they’re merchants from the looks of them. Not Egyptians though; they’re not dark enough, are they?”
“Well, they seem to be quite upset about our having taken the pirate galleys. I saw them pointing at them and gesturing angrily at each other a couple of minutes ago.”
“If you would like, I’ll try to find out who they are. I’ll ask some of the local merchants.”
“Thank you. That would be good of you and I’d appreciate it. And would you also please ask them to help us find a barber to sew and bleed our wounded men.”
@@@@@
Aaron jumps down to the dock as soon as the cog touches it. He immediately hustles over to a small group of merchants standing together further back on the dock. From the smiles and greetings as he approaches them it would seem that they are friends and here to greet him. Of course, they’re probably the buyers for his cogs and their cargos.
I watch as one of the merchants nods and says something to one of the men who is attending them. He promptly trots off briskly down the dock.
Aaron must have also said something about the two men on the dock for all the merchants simultaneously turn and look at them. Fortunately, the two men are too busy arguing to notice. Then Aaron and his friends begin walking towards the cog, all the while talking among themselves with big smiles and broad gestures. I jump down to the dock to greet them as Yoram trots up from the other cog which has just finished tying up further down the dock.
Aaron’s introduction is very formal and in French.
“May I present Lord William, Admiral of the English Navy and recent victor in battles with the heathen pirates? That cog over there at the end of the dock, and those three galleys in front of it, are among his recent prizes,” Aaron announces as he sweeps his hand to point to each of our four prizes.
We all bow at each other as Aaron rattles off a number of foreign sounding names I can’t understand. Then he leans forward towards me and semi-whispers so that everyone around us can hear.
“My friends know those men. They may not be Egyptians but they are Moslems and important in Alexandria because they sell captured ships and cargo for the Tunisian pirates. They sell their slaves too. My friends say they are very dangerous so you must be careful when you are here. Oh, and yes, my friends have already sent for physicians and barbers to tend to your wounded. They say they are Greeks and quite competent.”
@@@@@
Alexandria is indeed big and bustling and crowded. Yoram and I accompany Aaron and his friends into the city to be their guests at a meal where the dishes keep coming and coming and we kept talking and talking. The meal lasts for hours and we sit on the floor and try everything; it is generally delicious, especially the various lamb and fish courses.
When we have to excuse ourselves to use some pots in the alley to relieve ourselves, they insist that we be accompanied by some of their very tough looking retainers who sit on the floor surrounding us and eat as we eat. They’re probably Jews since, so the merchants tell us, they are the bodyguards of choice in this part of the world.
Our dinner companions also look like very tough men and so does Aaron, come to think of it. I suppose one has to be if they are to be successful in these dangerous times, what with the rise of militant Islam and the Moslem pirates.
After exchanging the usual extended pleasantries we primarily talk about how we might profit by working together to defeat the efforts of the pirates. There are many possibilities but they really boil down to either providing our galleys and men to convoy the merchants’ cargo ships to certain ports or using our galleys to carry the merchants’ messengers, correspondence, and money or parchment money orders to those ports.
As the evening wears on and the wine flows the merchants increasingly tried to talk me into setting up a post in Alexandria similar to that which we have established on Cyprus and intend to establish in Britain. They seem to know all about it. Perhaps Aaron told them.
Alternately, if our establishing a post in Alexandria is not possible at this time, they make it clear that they’d like contract with us to base one of our galleys here to be immediately available to them if they need it. Do they really want it, as they tell us, to carry passengers and valuable cargos - or do they want it so they can use it to escape in an emergency if there are local troubles?
“I will have to think about this. We can do either, of course, if you and your friends will pay enough.”
They all lean forward to hear my answer when Aaron’s friend asks the key question.
“How much to station a galley here permanently for our exclusive use?”
I have to think for a moment before I can give them an answer.
“Each galley stationed here with a crew of sixty sailors and fighting men to carry messages, parchments instead of money, and high value passengers during the sailing season will cost you more than four hundred gold coins or its equivalent. It would then be available to carry you or anyone you designate to wherever you want to go whenever you want to travel.”
Then I hold my hand in a gesture of caution to indicate there is more.
“On top of that would be whatever it costs for a defensible place for the sailors and fighting men to live when they are not at sea and someplace where the galley can be pulled ashore and stored during the storm season. And sailings that might attract pirates, such as carrying coins or convoying cargo ships, would be extra depending on the risk.”
It sounds like a lot but paying the men and providing them with food and shelter would take half of it; the other half would merely cover the cost of replacing the galley and, of course, be our profit if it is not lost.
It is late and the streets are dark and getting chilly when we finally finish drinking and eating. A number of men provided by the merchants walk with us from the restaurant back to our docked ships.
“For your safety,” Aaron explains. “My friends do not trust the Tunisians - a murderer can be hired in Alexandria for a handful of copper coins.”
We pass numerous men and women talking quietly in doorways or cooking on small fires along the cobblestone street. Alexandria, it seems, never sleeps. It is a lovely night in early May.
Aaron finally asks the big question as we approach the dock.
/> “Would you really do it? Contract a galley to us and locate it here, I mean.”
“I don’t know about establishing a permanent base here such as we have at Cyprus, but the answer is probably yes for us making our marks on a galley contract - if your friends pay us enough money and have an acceptable place where the crew and galley can be berthed when they are not at sea.” Whoosh. I’ve had too much wine to think properly about it at the moment.
Aaron is visibly relieved.
“I’ll talk to my friends and try to have some ideas for you by tomorrow afternoon when we meet again. In the name of God, please don’t sail away until we have a chance to talk again.”
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Randolph is waiting on the deck when I wake up the next morning in the captain’s cabin of our first cog, the one we bought off the poxed captain in Latika. He is waiting with a knowing smile on his face when I raise my hand for silence as I stagger past him to go to the net hanging out over the bow and shit in the harbor. Ah. That’s better.
“Hey Randolph, what’s up?”
“Hey William. Got a bunch of questions for you, don’t I? Mainly I need to know what to tell the men who’ve been showing up because they want to enlist or buy passages. And then there’s the damn slaves we took off the pirates and the barber the merchants sent to take care of the wounded wants to be paid.”
“Ask Yoram for the money for the barber. But what about the slaves?”
“Well they won’t get off.”
“Say what?”
“God’s truth, William. Most of them don’t want to go ashore. They’re afraid the Moslem slavers here in Alexandria will grab them and put them right back in chains. Even the blonde guy no one can understand.”
“Shit. Well that won’t do. Did you feed them?”
“Yup. I know how you feel about slaves so I feeded them up real good. The poor bastards were starving, weren’t they?”
The Archer: Historical Fiction: exciting novel about Marines and Naval Warfare of medieval England set in feudal times with knights,Templars, and crusaders during Richard the lionhearted's reign Page 12
