"When do you think the fleet of Ragnar Voskjard will arrive at the holding?" he asked.
"Tomorrow," I told him.
We then looked, one last time, upon the fair slaves so securely incarcerated below us. I think he looked upon the auburn-haired beauty, in the bit of yellow rag. I myself regarded the small brunet, so frightened and exquisite, in the bit of red rag, curled pathetically, a slave, on the tiles below. I smiled to myself. "It would not be unpleasant to own her." I would teach her her condition well. We then left the balcony, locking the heavy door behind us.
Chapter 12 — WE BID WELCOME TO THE VOSKJARD'S FLEET; THE COURIER OF RAGNAR VOSKJARD; THE FLEET OF POLICRATES
"There must be fifty ships in the channel," said Callimachus, snapping shut the glass of the Builders.
"Bring Kliomenes to the wall," I told a man. "And see that he is well attired, fit to welcome his friends from the west. Some there, doubtless from the crew of Reginald, or Reginald himself, may recognize him."
"Yes, Jason," said the man, hurrying downward from the wall. Kliomenes had spent a good part of yesterday, and the night, with certain other pirates, chained, in rags, at the windlass. His appearance on the wall, Callimachus and I had speculated, might allay suspicions in the advancing fleet.
"How many ships will the sea yard hold?" inquired a man.
"Surely fifty or better," said Callimachus, "but I doubt that so many will enter the holding."
The _Tuka_, the _Tina_ and the _Tais_ had been removed from the sea yard.
"Is the Tassa powder ready, and the goblets of welcome?" asked Callimachus of a man.
"Yes, Captain," he said, grimly, "but there is far too little for so many."
"The pits in the fortress have been prepared?" inquired Callimachus of one of his officers.
"Yes, Captain," said the man. More than one hundred captured pirates had been drafted to this work, after which, in chains, they had been thrust, packed, with others, into cells below the holding.
"The fleet approaches," said a man. "Their identificatory signals emerge now upon their lines."
"Run up the flags of welcome," said Callimachus.
"Yes, Captain," said a man, signaling to others.
"Have the fire jars been prepared?" asked Callimachus.
"Both those upon the walls, and those along the channel, my Captain," said a man.
I saw the flags of welcome, narrow, triangular and yellow, run up on their lines.
A smoke bomb, trailing smoke, was lofted upward from a catapult on one of the lead ships. It arched gracefully upward and then fell into the marshes lining the channel.
"Return the signal," said Callimachus.
In moments an answering smoke bomb, from a catapult on the walls, describing its graceful parabola, ascended and then seemed to pause, and then looped downward, to splash into the marshes.
We watched the oars of the approaching ships. There was no hesitation or vacillation in their unison.
"They approach with confidence," said a man.
"Good," said Callimachus.
There was a sound of chain near us and Kliomenes, his ankles shackled, was thrust to the parapet. He was clad in a scarlet robe. A yellow, tasseled beret was upon his head. "Smile, Kliomenes," I encouraged him. He winced. The point of my dagger was in his back.
In moments had the first of the galleys reached the vicinity of the sea gate. Kliomenes, at our suggestion, climbed to a place behind the wall where he might be the more easily seen. Crossbows, the fingers of men on their triggers, were trained on his back. He smiled. He lifted his hand, and waved. I did not think it would be necessary to kill him, at least immediately. From the stem castles and decks of the galleys below the shackling on his ankles could not be seen.
Cautiously, from behind the parapet, I surveyed the stem castle of the lead galley. Three individuals stood upon it. Only one of them was I certain that I knew, and he, interestingly, was masked. That one, however, in spite of the mask, was, in his way, not unknown to me. I had met him on the wharves of Victoria, late at night. He had wanted the topaz. He had tried to kill me. It was he who was the true courier of Ragnar Voskjard.
The other two men wore the garb of captains. Neither, however, seemed to me to possess the suggestion of power, or the presence, that I would have expected of Ragnar Voskjard. The Voskjard, I suspected, was not with the fleet. I had, indeed, earlier speculated from pirate strategies, that the fleet had been under the command not of the Voskjard, but of a lesser man. The Voskjard, I suspected, during the battle, would have contented himself with reigning in his holding. He would not have seen fit, I conjectured, to concern himself with the travail of personally conducting the immediate and pedestrian affairs of an unimportant battle which, in his opinion, would have had a foregone conclusion. Such a task might be left to subordinates. He himself could join the fleet later.
"Who is on the deck of the stem castle?" I asked Kliomenes.
"Reginald," said Kliomenes, "who was the captain of the _Tamira_."
"Who else?" I pressed. I had never seen Reginald, though I had, to be sure, been on his ship. He seemed a tall, impressive man.
"The courier of Ragnar Voskjard," said Kliomenes, "he in the mask."
"Who is the other man?" I asked.
"I do not know," said Kliomenes.
"Is it Ragnar Voskjard?" I asked.
"I do not think so," said Kliomenes.
Reginald hailed Kliomenes. Signals could not properly be exchanged. It seems the sealed documents pertaining to these signs and countersigns had been lost with the _Tamira_, that they were now in the mud at the bottom of the Vosk. The _Tamira_, we were informed, had been sunk while valiantly defending herself against an attacking fleet of a dozen ships. Naturally Kliomenes, quarrels trained on his back, saw fit to accept these explanations. Besides, strictly, surely, such signs were not necessary in the present circumstances. Reginald himself was recognized. He had conducted business in the holding before, with Policrates and Kliomenes.
We gave orders and the great gate began to rise. This time, in the room of the windlass, however, it was pirates who labored to lift that mighty weight. I regretted only that Kliomenes was not sweating with them, in rags, under a whip, chained to a windlass bar. The identity of the third man on the deck of the stem castle of the lead galley, we learned, in the exchange of identifications, was Alcibron, who had been the commander of the _Tuka_.
I was much pleased that we had removed the _Tuka_, as well as the _Tina_ and _Tais_ from the sea yard. Alcibron, and, doubtless, many others, might have immediately recognized her. Alerted thusly to their danger they would have attempted to withdraw. Our trap, presumably, would then have been fruitlessly sprung. Something else which had been Alcibron's, too, was not far away, a wench I had taken from him and made my own slave. She, Lola, with another of my slaves, Shirley, I was keeping, for my convenience, in the central room of the slave quarters, with the captured beauties of the pirates. These latter girls, such as the auburn-haired beauty in whom Miles of Vonda was interested, and the small brunet in whom I had some interest, were in ignorance as to what their disposition would be. This was appropriate. They were slaves.
I saw the lead galley drawing alongside the walk near the fortress wall, across the sea yard. Mooring lines were made fast. Pirates disembarked.
"You will never be successful," snarled Kliomenes.
"Stand back on the ramparts," I said, "that the stern impediments locked upon your ankles not be visible."
He stepped back a foot.
"Smile, and wave," I encouraged him, "unless you wish to die."
He smiled and waved.
I saw Reginald and Alcibron wave to him, from the walk across the sea yard. He who had been the courier of Ragnar Voskjard looked about himself, suspiciously, and then, with the others, entered the holding. Inside, in a previously prepared room, on a great table, were aligned two hundred goblets of wine. Each contained Tassa powder.