The consul led them to a secluded corner of the courtyard. "Now, let me introduce myself, I am William Grey, His Majesty's consul to the Sultanate of Zanzibar."
"Henry Courtney, at your service, sir."
"I knew a Sir Francis Courtney. Are you by chance related?"
"My father, sir."
"Ah! An honourable man. Please give him my respects when next you meet."
"Tragically he was killed in the Dutch war."
"My condolences, Sir Henry. Please be seated." A pile of beautifully patterned silk carpets had been set close at hand for Hal. The consul sat opposite him. Once he was comfortable, a slave brought Grey a water-pipe. "A pipeful of Mang is a sovereign remedy for distempers of the liver and for the malaria which is a plague in these climes. Will you join me, sir?" Hal refused this offer, for he knew of the tricks the Indian hemp flowers played upon the mind, and the dreams and trances with which it could ensnare the smoker.
While he puffed at his pipe, Grey questioned him cunningly as to his recent movements and his future plans, and Hal was polite but evasive. Like a pair of duel lists they sparred and waited for an opening. As the water bubbled in the tall glass bowl of the pipe and the fragrant smoke drifted across the courtyard Grey became more affable and expansive.
"You live in the style of a great sheikh." Hal tried a little flattery and Grey responded with gratification.
"Would you find it difficult to believe that fifteen years ago I was merely a lowly clerk in the employment of the English East India Company? When my ship was wrecked on the corals of Sofala, I came ashore here as a castaway." He shrugged and made a gesture that was more Oriental than English. "As you say, Allah has smiled on me."
"You have embraced Islam?" Hal did not allow his expression to show the repugnance he felt for the apostate. "I am a true believer in the one God, and in Muhammad his Prophet." Grey nodded. Hal wondered how much his decision to convert had rested on political and practical considerations. Grey, the Christian, would not have prospered in Zanzibar as Grey, the Mussulman, so obviously had.
"Most Englishmen who call at Zanzibar have one thing in mind," Grey went on. "They have come here for trade, and usually to acquire a cargo of slaves. I regret that this is not the best season for slaving. The trade winds have brought in the dhows from Further India and beyond. They have already carried away the best specimens, and what is now left in the market is the dregs. However, in my own barracoon I have two hundred prime creatures, the best you will find in a thousand miles of sailing."
"Thank you, sir, but I am not interested in slaving," Hal declined.
"That, sir, is a regrettable decision. I assure you there are great fortunes still to be made in the trade. The Brazilians and the Caribbean sugar planters are crying out for labour to work their fields."
"Thank you again. I am not in the market." Now it was clear to Hal how Grey had made his own fortune. The post of consul was secondary to that of agent and middleman to European traders calling in at Zanzibar.
"Then there is another highly profitable area in which I could be of assistance to you." Grey paused delicately. "I observed your ship from my rooftop when you anchored and could not but notice that she is well armed. One might be forgiven for believing her to be a man-of-war." Hal nodded noncommittally, and Grey continued, "You may not know that the Sultan of Oman, Beloved of Allah, Ahmed El Grang, is at war with the Emperor of Ethiopia."
"I had heard so."
"A war is raging on land and sea. The Sultan has issued Letters of Marque to ships who wish to join his forces. These commissions have been, in the main, restricted to Mussulman captains. However, I have great influence at the Sultan's court. I may be able to obtain a commission for you. Of course, such a boon does not come cheaply. It would cost two hundred pounds for me to obtain an Omani Letter of Marque for you, sir."
Hal was about to refuse with indignation this offer to join the pagan in the war against Christ and his followers, but instinct warned him not to repudiate it out of hand. "There might be profits to be made, then, sir?" he asked thoughtfully.
"Indeed. There are vast riches to be snapped up. The empire of the Prester is one of the most ancient citadels of the Christian faith.
For well over a thousand years the gold and offerings of the pilgrims and worshippers have been piling up in the treasure houses of the churches and monasteries. The Prester himself is as rich as any European sovereign. They say there is over twenty tons of gold in his treasury, at the sum, Grey was breathing heavily with avarice at the picture he had conjured up in his own mind.
"You would be able to obtain a commission for me from the Sultan? "Hal leaned forward with assumed eagerness. indeed, sir. Not a month past I was able to obtain a commission for a Scotsman." A sudden thought occurred to Grey, and his face lit up. "If I did the same for you, perhaps you could join forces with him. With two fighting ships such as yours you would be a squadron powerful enough to take on anything the navy of the Prester could send against you. "The thought excites me." Hal smiled encouragingly, trying not to show too much interest. He had guessed who the Scotsman must be. "But tell me, who is this man of whom you speak?"
"A fine gentleman and a great mariner," Grey replied enthusiastically. "He sailed from Zanzibar not five weeks back, bound for the Horn."
"Then I may be able to come up with him and join my ship to his," Hal mused aloud. "Give me his name and station, sir."
Grey glanced around the courtyard in a conspiratorial fashion, then lowered his voice. "He is a nobleman of high rank, the Earl of Cumbrae." Grey leaned back and slapped his knees to emphasize the enormity of his disclosure. "There, sir! And what do you think of that?"
"I am greatly amazed!" Hal did not have to cover his excitement. "But do you truly believe that you can obtain a commission for me also?
And, if so, how long will the business take?"
"Things are never swiftly done in Arabia." Grey became evasive again. "But they can always be speeded up with a little baksheesh. Say an extra two hundred pounds, that is four hundred in all, and I should be able to place the commission in your hands by tomorrow evening. Naturally, I would need to have your payment in advance."
"It is a great deal of money." Hal frowned. Now that he knew where the Buzzard was headed, he wanted to rush back to the Golden Bough immediately and set off in pursuit. But he restrained the impulse. He must gather every scrap of information from Grey.
"Yes, it is," Grey agreed. "But think on the return it will bring. Twenty tons of pure gold for the man bold enough to seize it from the Prester's treasury. And that's not all. There are also the jewels and other treasures sent in tribute to the empire over a thousand years, the treasures of the Coptic churches the relics of Jesus Christ and the Virgin, of the apostles and the saints. The ransom they could command is without limit." Grey's eyes shone with greed. "They say-" He broke off and lowered his voice again. "They do say, that the Prester John is the guardian of the Holy Grail itself."