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Both Schreuder and Cochran nodded. This was nothing new. "Now, Allah has given me the opportunity to seize both this talisman and the person of the infant Emperor." El Grang sat back and lapsed into silence, watching the faces of the two white men shrewdly.

"With the Tabernacle and the Emperor in your hands, the armies of Nazet would dissolve like snow in the summer sun," Schreuder said softly.

El Grang nodded. "A renegade monk has come in to us, and offered to lead a small party commanded by a bold man to the place where both the talisman and the Emperor are hidden. Once the child and the Tabernacle have been captured, I will need a fast, powerful ship to carry them to Muscat before Nazet can make an attempt to rescue them from us." He turned to Schreuder and said, "You, Colonel, are the bold man I need. If you succeed your payment will also be a lakh."

Then El Grang looked at Cochran. "Yours is the fast ship to carry them to Muscat. When you deliver them there, there will be another lakh for you." He smiled coldly. "This time I will pay you to fly from El Tazar, rather than confront him. Are your balls big and heavy enough for that task, my brave Buzzard?"

The Golden Bough ran southwards, her sails glowing in the last rays of the sun, like a tower of gold.

"The Gull of Moray lies at anchor in Adulis Bay," Fasilides" spies had brought the report, "and her captain is ashore. They say he sits in council with El Grang." But that intelligence was two days" stale.

"Will the Buzzard still be there?" Hal fretted to himself, and studied his sails. The Golden Bough could carry not another stitch of canvas, and every sail was drawing sweetly. The hull sliced through the water, and the deck vibrated beneath his feet like a living creature. If I find her still at anchor, we can board her even in darkness, Hal thought, and strode down the deck, checking the tackle of his guns. The white seamen knuckled their foreheads and grinned at him, while the squatting ranks of Amadoda grinned and crossed their chests with their open right hand in salute. They were like hunting dogs with the scent of the stag in their nostrils. He knew that they would not flinch when he laid the Golden Bough alongside the Gull and led them onto her deck.

The sun dipped towards the horizon and quenched its flames in the sea. The darkness descended and the outline of the land melted into it.

Moonrise in two hours, Hal thought, as he stopped by the binnacle to check the ship's heading. We will be into Adulis Bay by then. He looked up at Ned Tyler, whose face was lit by the compass lantern.

"Hoist our new canvas," he ordered, and Ned repeated the order through the speaking trumpet. The new canvas was laid out on the deck, the sheets already reeved into the clews and earing cringles, but it took an hour Of hard, dangerous work before her white canvas was brought down and stowed away, and the sails that were daubed with pitch were hoist to the yards and unfurled.

Black was her hull, and black as midnight her canvas. The Golden Bough would show no flash in the moonlight when they sailed into Adulis Bay to take unawares the anchored fleet of Islam.

Let the Buzzard be there, Hal prayed silently. Please, God, let him not have sailed.

Slowly the bay opened to them, and they saw the lanterns of the enemy fleet like the lights of a large town. Beyond them the watch fires of El Grang's host reflected off the belly of the low cloud of dust and smoke.

"Lay the ship on the larboard tack, Mister Tyler. Steer into the bay." The ship came around and bore swiftly towards the anchored fleet.

"Take a reef in your mains. Furl all your top-hamper, please, Mister Tyler." The ship's rush slowed and the rustle of the bow wave dwindled as they went in under fighting canvas.

Hal walked towards the bows and Aboli stood up out of the darkness. "Are your archers ready?" Hal asked.

Aboli's teeth flashed in the gloom. "They are ready, Gundwane."

Hal made them out now, dark shapes crouched along the ship's rail between the culver ins their bundles of arrows laid out on the deck.

"Keep them under your eye!" Hal cautioned him. If the Amadoda had one fault in battle it was that they could be carried away by their blood lust.

As he went on to Big Daniel's station in the waist, he was checking that all the burning slow-match was concealed in the tubs and that the glowing tips would not alert a watchful enemy. "Good evening, Master Daniel. Your men have never been in a night battle. Keep a tight rein. Don't let them start firing wildly."

He went back to the helm, and the ship crept on into the bay, a dark shadow on the dark waters. The moon rose behind them and lit the scene ahead with a silvery radiance, so that Hal could discern the shapes of the enemy fleet. He knew that his own ship was still invisible.

On they glided, and they were close enough now to hear the sounds from the moored vessels ahead, voices singing, praying and arguing. Someone was hammering a wooden mallet, and there was the creak of oars and the slotting of rigging as the dhows rolled gently at anchor.

Hal was straining his eyes to pick out the masts of the Gull of Moray, but he knew that if she were in the bay he would not be able to spot her until the first broadside lit the darkness.

"A large dhow dead ahead," he said quietly to Ned Tyler. "Steer to pass her close to starboard."

"Ready, Master Daniel!" He raised his voice. "On the vessel to starboard, fire as you bead." They crept up to the anchored dhow and, as she came fully abeam, the Golden Bough's full broadside lit the darkness like sheet lightning and the thunder of the guns stunned their ear-drums and echoed off the desert hills. In that brief eye-searing illumination Hal saw the masts and hulls of the entire enemy fleet brightly lit, and he felt the lead of disappointment heavy in his guts.