Golden Lion (25 page)

Aboli must have been thinking on similar lines for now he said, ‘We should go with Pett, Gundwane. There are times when a man should pay heed to his woman. But just as women talk among themselves about things that concern them, so this matter is man’s talk.’

Hal nodded, ‘Very well then, Mr Pett,’ he said. ‘You shall say farewell to Aboli and me after our brief, but eventful acquaintance.’ He walked back into the house and took Judith’s hand. ‘My dear, Mr Pett has the means to repay some of the kindness that we have shown him by taking Aboli and me to a coffee- house for a farewell drink. We will be sure to return to you very soon.’

Judith did not need to be told that no respectable unmarried woman would ever accompany men on an expedition of this kind. She simply said, ‘Be sure that you do,’ and then called out, ‘Don’t keep Captain Courtney out long, Mr Pett. I shall soon be sharing him with his entire crew. I would like to have his attention now, before all hope of it vanishes.’

‘I entirely understand, madam, and can assure you that I am merely desirous of a brief opportunity to express my thanks for the deliverance from captivity that Captain Courtney brought me, and all his kindness thereafter,’ Pett replied.

Hal reached for the hook on the wall from which hung the belt and scabbard containing the Neptune sword. As he put it on, Pett said, ‘There’s no need for that, Captain. I hardly think we shall face any danger over beverages and pastries.’

‘I am walking out into a foreign city at night, sir,’ Hal replied. ‘Who knows what might happen?’

Pett looked at him quizzically, then shrugged and said, ‘As you please, Captain. Follow me.’

He led Aboli and Hal out of the house and down the street. They made a number of turnings down side streets, and along narrow alleys until they came to a small square in which stood a coffee-shop, with tables both indoors and out. Pett led them to an empty table on the edge of the outdoor section, with an uninterrupted view across the square and all the Zanzibari citizens making their evening promenade. As they took their seats Pett said, ‘Consul Grey assured me that this was a highly respectable establishment, by local standards at any rate, where one can both eat and drink without too much fear of upsetting one’s digestion. And I gather, also, that the owner speaks a word or two of English, which will be of assistance to me for I have no Arabic whatever.’

‘Don’t be concerned. I am hardly fluent, but I can make myself understood,’ Hal assured him. He stopped himself, just in time, from revealing how well Aboli spoke Arabic. For now that would be a card he would keep close to his chest and one glance across the table told him Aboli had had the same thought. Instead, he said, ‘As for Mr Grey, I must apologize for obliging you to associate with a man of such dubious morality.’

‘If you refer to slavery,’ Pett replied, ‘I can tell you that I regard it as an abomination against God, who created us all equal in His image. I told Consul Grey as much, too, I might add, when he let slip that he had dabbled in the trade.’

Hal shrugged: ‘Slavery, among other things … Sadly, we Englishmen have no alternative but to treat with him since he is our monarch’s sole representative south of Alexandria. But tell me, what news did he have about the Grail?’

‘I shall tell you it all,’ Pett replied, getting to his feet. ‘But first, please allow me to order us some refreshments. Alcohol, of course, is forbidden in Islamic establishments, but Grey furnished me with advice about what I should order for us here. Please, allow me to find this English-speaking proprietor and order a selection of his finest offerings. I will return in but a moment.’

‘But, Mr Pett …’ Hal protested. But before he could finish the sentence, Pett was disappearing into the depths of the coffee-house, leaving Hal staring after him in puzzlement and frustration.

‘We should go, Gundwane,’ Aboli said. ‘I do not trust this man.’

‘You may be right, but we cannot leave now,’ Hal replied. ‘To spurn his hospitality would be discourteous in the extreme and Mr Pett is a man who does not take kindly to anything he perceives as a slight. Tromp can testify to that. No, we shall stay, but only as long as is absolutely necessary.’

A short while later, Pett returned, accompanied by a portly, bearded Arab in a white robe and headdress who was barking out orders to a gaggle of servants. ‘This is Mr Azar, the proprietor,’ Grey explained. ‘When I told him that my guest was a great English mariner he insisted on paying his respects.’

Hal stood to greet Azar, while the servants pulled another table next to the one at which the three men were sitting and loaded both surfaces with cups of coffee and glasses of mint tea, trays of sweet and savoury pastries and placed a hookah pipe in front of his, Pett’s and Aboli’s places.

Pett saw Hal looking quizzically at the tall, ornately decorated brass object, from which protruded a long thin pipe, angled upwards from the base.

‘Do I take it you are unfamiliar with the hookah?’ he asked. Without waiting for an answer Pett continued, ‘It’s a means of smoking tobacco that I came across in India. Very pleasurable, I find …’

‘My father was always opposed to smoking tobacco,’ Hal said. ‘He refused to believe that any good could come of filling one’s lungs with smoke when they could be ingesting good, sea air.’

‘I’m sure your father was a fine man, Captain Courtney. But he is gone and you must decide upon your own views now. Besides, the purpose of this device is precisely to make the taking of tobacco much more beneficial to one’s health by mixing it with molasses and various flavours to one’s taste – I believe Mr Azar favours crushed mint leaves and lemon rind – and then passing the smoke through a bowl of water so that the impurities are removed. The result, I assure you, is infinitely more agreeable than, say, breathing in the foul vapours one encounters below decks on a ship and I cannot believe that it is any more injurious to the constitution.’

‘I once smoked this hookah with Sir Francis,’ Aboli said. ‘It was good.’

‘So why did he tell me it wasn’t?’ Hal asked.

Aboli smiled. ‘As you will find, Gundwane, what a man tells his son and what he does himself are seldom the same thing.’

‘Let me make a suggestion,’ Pett said. ‘If you two gentlemen join me in a pipe, then I will tell you all I know about the current predicament of …’ he looked around as if to check that no one could overhear what he was saying ‘… the Grail.’

Hal shook his head. ‘I regret that my promise to my father still stands. When he releases me from it I will join you. Until that happy day I will allow Aboli to keep you company. But now, sir, I insist …’

‘Of course … Well then, it seems that the blind prophet we encountered in the marketplace yesterday has been telling all who pass by that the Grail has been seized by the followers of the Omani general Ahmed El Grang, the king of the Omani Arabs, who holds sway over the lands bordering the Ethiopian empire.’

‘I am well aware who El Grang is. I was at war with his navy,’ Hal said.

‘Quite so … Well, the prophet says that these events foreshadow the end of the world. That the theft of this holy cup will plunge us all into darkness.’

Hal gave a sceptical grimace. ‘Hmm … I’m not inclined to place much weight on anything that blind, babbling old stick ever says.’

‘Nor was Grey,’ Pett replied. ‘Still, he was curious to know whether there was any substance to the prophet’s words. He made his own inquiries, for as you will know he is very well connected and, as I mentioned earlier, received more news while I was still in his presence. Mr Grey spoke in Arabic to the gentleman who delivered the information, his countenance becoming more grave with every word they exchanged. When we were once again alone he turned to me and said, “So it is true, as I feared. That precious Christian treasure for which Captain Courtney and General Nazet fought so very bravely has, I fear, fallen into El Grang’s hands once more.” I confess I was surprised to hear such words from one who now professes to be a Mussulman, and said as much to Mr Grey. Quoth he, “I may have converted to the one true faith, Mr Pett …” I may say I recoiled to hear an Englishman talk about any faith but Christianity in that way. “But I would have peace between all.” Then he smiled at me and added, “Better for business that way.”’

‘Yes, that sounds like Mr Grey, all right,’ Hal said. ‘His belief in gold outweighs his faith in any god. But did he tell you any more?’

‘Indeed so … He said that the Ethiopian boy emperor, or rather the bishop that advises him …’

‘Fasilides.’

‘Yes, that’s the name … Well, this Fasilides has sent emissaries far and wide searching for General Nazet.’

Hal’s eyes widened in alarm. ‘You didn’t tell him, did you? About her presence here in Zanzibar?’

‘My dear, Captain Courtney! I absolutely assure you, Captain, that I was as discreet in your absence as I was when you and I were both at Grey’s table. You will forgive me, sir, but I take considerable exception to your lack of faith in my discretion. As I may have told you, I was entrusted by the directors of the Company themselves with extremely sensitive discussions at the highest possible level and …’

‘I apologize, Mr Pett. Mine was only the concern of a man who fears for the woman he loves. I meant you no insult.’

‘No, no … very probably not,’ Pett huffed. Then he frowned. ‘Mr Aboli, sir … are you indisposed?’

Hal turned to look at his first mate and frowned anxiously. ‘Aboli? What ails you?’

The mighty Amadoda warrior’s face had taken on a greyish hue, his eyes were unfocussed and his speech was slurred as he started speaking in the strange clicking manner of the forest people that was his native tongue. Hal had been tutored in the language since he was a small boy but even he struggled to make out what he was saying. The general gist, however, was clear enough. ‘He is not well. Something has made him ill. Excuse me for saying so, Mr Pett, but I cannot help but feel that the smoke you swore to be so beneficial may have brought him to this state.’

Pett gave a sigh of concern. ‘That is possible. God made us all equal, but plainly we are not all the same. I have seen men from many Indian races enjoy the hookah without ill-effects and Arabs, Persians and other peoples of the Levant swear by its properties. But it is possible that the African is not suited to its properties. Equally he may have succumbed to bad airs, or eaten tainted food of some kind.’

‘Well, whatever it was, we cannot sit around here debating the matter. I must get him back to our accommodation where he can be properly looked after. Perhaps the apothecary will have some sort of medicinal herb or tincture that will restore him.’

‘Very possibly,’ said Pett. ‘Here, let me assist you.’

He and Hal got up, stood either side of Aboli and tried to help him to his feet until he stood between them, like a tall tree swaying in a strong wind. ‘Come on, Mr Aboli,’ Pett said, wedging his left shoulder under Aboli’s right armpit as Hal took up his post on the other side. ‘We shall endeavour to get you home … Pray do not concern yourself with payment for our refreshments, Captain. I will return in due course and settle my account.’

Oh, I will settle my account, and no mistake
, thought Pett, as the three of them made their ungainly way across the square to the narrow street that marked the start of their route back to the apothecary’s premises. And then he smiled to himself
. That degenerate old blasphemer Grey was right. The addition of hashish and opium to the tobacco mixture had precisely the effect that he predicted.

Halfway down the street they came to the entrance to a narrow alley. ‘Down here,’ Pett said, steering Hal and Aboli into the near-darkness that lay between high walls on either side.

‘Are you sure this is the way?’ Hal asked, grunting as he did so from the effort of supporting Aboli’s weight.

‘Entirely,’ Pett replied, with a curtness that suggested he simply did not have the strength or breath to utter another word. In fact his attention was wholly directed inwards, for now he heard, more clearly than he had done in many a week, the voice of the Saint assuring him, ‘Now, do it now! This is both the time and the place that God has ordained for the removal of Henry Courtney from this earth. You have waited long and patiently. But wait no more. Do it!’

A sense of great peace coursed through Pett, like a warm and soothing tonic that invigorated his body, sharpened his senses and concentrated his mind. He felt as though the African, for all his bulk and might, were no more of a burden to him than a child might have been. His hand went to the pocket of his breeches, where the sharpened knife, placed beside his plate by Azar, the coffee-shop owner himself, was waiting. How easy it had been to place himself here, with his right hand entirely free. And how satisfying it had been to negate the advantage Courtney had given himself by deciding, at the last minute, to bring his damn sword. For now the captain’s right shoulder was bearing Aboli’s weight and his arm was wrapped around the African’s back, from where he would find it almost impossible to extricate it, so that the blade that hung at his hip might as well not be there for all that he could use it.

Pett’s grip tightened around the handle of the knife. Moving slowly, without any sudden movement or shifting of his weight, Pett eased his hand and the blade it carried out into the open, then let his right arm hang down beside his body.

They were halfway down the alley now, at the point where they would be equally hard to make out by anyone passing along the streets at either end. This was the perfect moment.

‘Do it!’ screamed the Saint.

And William Pett struck, as he always did, without warning, at a speed that none of his victims could match, bringing his body across Aboli and swinging his right arm in a great arc so that the painstakingly honed point of his blade was swinging with all his strength at a defenceless Henry Courtney.

Look at the eyes, Gundwane!
Aboli had always taught him.
If you watch the blade you will always react too late. The blade tells you what your enemy is doing now. But the eyes tell you what he will do next.