Part 10 (1/2)
Hawksworth translated the reply and a cheer rose from the men.
”Hear that, mates?” Master's mate Thomas Davies turned to the crowd, his face a haggard leer. ”Let the rottin' Portugals swab cannon in h.e.l.l. I'll be aswim in grog an' snuffin' my wick with a willin' wench.
Heathen or no, 'tis all one, what say?”
A confirming hurrah lifted from the decks and the men resumed their labor with spirits noticeably replenished.
Hawksworth turned and ascended the companionway ladder to the quarterdeck, leaving behind the tense bravado. As he surveyed the deck below from his new vantage, he suddenly sensed an eerie light enveloping the chip, a curious glow that seemed almost to heighten the pensive lament of the boards and the lulling melody of wind through the rigging. Then he realized why.
The moon!
I'd forgotten. Or was I too tired to think? But now . . . it's almost like daylight. G.o.d help us, we've lost the last of our luck.
”Ready to cast off.” Mackintosh mounted the companionway to the quarterdeck, his face now drawn deep with fatigue. ”Shall I board the men?”
Hawksworth turned with a nod, and followed him down to the main deck.
Oarsmen began scrambling down the side of the _Discovery_, a motley host, shoeless and clad only in powder- smudged breeches. Though a rope ladder dangled from the gunwales, the seamen preferred to grasp the dead-eyes, easing themselves onto the raised gunport lids, and from there dropping the last few feet into the pinnace. They were followed by George Elkington, who lowered himself down the swaying ladder, breathing oaths. Hawksworth lingered by the railing, searching the moonlit horizon and the darkened coast. His senses quickened as he probed for some clue that would trigger an advance alert. But the moonlit water's edge lay barren, deserted save for an occasional beached fis.h.i.+ng skiff, its sisal nets exposed on poles to dry. Why the emptiness? During the day there were people.
Then he sensed Karim standing beside him, also intent on the empty sh.o.r.e. The pilot's back was to the lantern that swung from the mainmast and his face was shrouded in shadow. Abruptly, he addressed Hawksworth in Turki.
”The face of India glories in the moonlight, do you agree? It is beautiful, and lies at peace.”
”You're right about the beauty. It could almost be the coast of Wales.”
Hawksworth thought he sensed a powerful presence about Karim now, something he could not explain, only detect with a troubled intuition.
Then the pilot spoke again.
”Have you prepared yourself to meet the Shahbandar?”
”We're ready. We have samples of English goods. And I'm an amba.s.sador from King James. There's no reason to deny us entry.”
”I told you he is a man of importance. And he already knows, as all who matter will soon know, of your exceptional fortune today. Do you really think today's battle will go unnoticed in India?”
”I think the Portugals noticed. And I know they'll be back. But with luck we'll manage.” Hawksworth felt the muscles in his throat tighten involuntarily, knowing a fleet of wars.h.i.+ps from Goa would probably be headed north within a fortnight.
”No, Captain, again you miss my meaning.” Karim turned to draw closer to Hawksworth, flas.h.i.+ng a joyless smile. ”I speak of India. Not the Portuguese. They are nothing. Yes, they trouble our seas, but they are nothing. They do not rule India. Do you understand?”
Hawksworth stiffened, unsure how to respond. ”I know the Moghul rules India. And that he'll have to wonder if the d.a.m.ned Portugals are still master of his seas.”
”Surely you realize, Captain, that the Portuguese's profits are staggering. Are you also aware these profits are shared with certain persons of importance in India?”
”You mean the Portugals have bribed officials?” That's nothing new, Hawksworth thought. ”Who? The Shahbandar?”
”Let us say they often give commissions.” Karim waved his hand as though administering a dispensation. ”But there are others whom they allow to invest directly in their trade. The profits give these persons power they often do not use wisely.”
”Are you telling me the Moghul himself invests with the d.a.m.ned Portugals?” Hawksworth's hopes plummeted.
”On the contrary. His Majesty is an honorable man, and a simple man who knows but little of what some do in his name. But do you understand there must be one in his realm who will someday have his place?
Remember he is mortal. He rules like a G.o.d, but he is mortal.”
”What does this have to do with the Shahbandar? Surely he'd not challenge the Moghul. And I know the Moghul has sons . . .”