Maiden Voyage
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The Voyage Of The HawkChapter 26 free porn video
The Hawk did not sail on the morning tide. The city watch scoured Pedro's uncle's villa from top to bottom. It took the watch most of the night and Pedro was forced to stand by and watch. They found very little though it was clear that someone had been hiding within the servant quarters of the villa. They found food and drink and a knife of exceptional quality. It was a nobleman's weapon and not a blade found in a scullery. They also found a secret passage that led from the servant quarters to the stables that stood behind the villa. The passage was found open and it was clear that it had been used as of late. After that Pedro had been called to the palace.
The King of Portugal hadn't been pleased. He did not blame Pedro for the escape of Don Hugo de Cordoba. Instead he blamed his royal guards and the city watch. He had demanded to know why the villa had not been searched since the flight of Don Hugo. No one within the king's court had an answer for that. The truth was that no one had thought Don Hugo would be so audacious. The king just scowled at that.
Hector survived the night. It was however clear to all that he would not be travelling with Pedro. He needed bed rest and time to heal. Pedro made arrangements for that to happen. He spent the day locating servants who would attend the old warrior while he was gone and he paid them well for their services. He also saw Sister Abigail off.
Pedro sent Sister Abigail north to Porto by carriage. With her Pedro sent six guardsmen from his own guard. He tasked her to find Don Ernesto and to bring him back to Lisbon. He gave her coin to spend and instructions for his uncle's faithful servant. Pedro had work for the man if he was up to it. He made sure the coin was plentiful.
The Hawk sailed the next morning. It sailed with a full crew and a strong force of guardsmen. It was escorted out to sea by a Portuguese warship. Aboard it sailed Bartholomew once more as the Hawk's first mate, Ishmael, and Don Enrique de Pissarro.
The Hawk sailed west first for a league or two and then turned south once they were in the current. With the wind at their backs and the sea favourable for travel the Hawk sped south for a day. By the next morning Pedro ordered a course change. At that point the Hawk was rounding Cape Vincent. At his command his new helmsman turned the ship southeast with a course set for the Straits of Gibraltar and the city of Ceuta that lay just before its gates.
"We should talk," Pedro told the men gathered within his cabin. "Ceuta lies but a day or two from our current location. With fair wind and good sailing the Hawk will soon be lying below the stone walls of the city. I want a plan in place before we get there."
The men were Bartholomew, Ishmael, and Don Enrique. It was an hour after the Hawk had turned southeast to align itself with the distant straits that they would have to head towards the next morning. Each man had come upon Pedro's summons eager to discuss their plans for Ceuta and how they were going to find Don Henrique de Menezes and Alfonso de Seville. All of them nodded their agreement when Pedro stated the obvious. Then Ishmael interjected his own thoughts.
"I suspect that you are thinking that the Hawk shouldn't reach Ceuta," Ishmael stated in a matter of fact manner. "Am I right?"
"What do you mean?" Don Enrique asked with a startled look upon his face. "Why shouldn't the Hawk reach Ceuta? You told the King of Portugal that was where you were bound. What treachery is this?"
"Calm yourself, Don Enrique," Bartholomew advised the Spanish nobleman when the man's hand fell to the hilt of his sword, "and let Dom Pedro explain. I can assure you will understand in a minute or two if you give him a chance."
"Bartholomew is correct Don Enrique, as is Ishmael as well," Pedro replied with a reassuring smile upon his face. "If you will listen I will explain everything to you. Are you agreed?"
"I will listen to you Dom Pedro," Don Enrique tentatively promised, "but I still do not understand what you are about. Would it not be wiser to sail directly to Ceuta and to present ourselves to the governor there? We are after all carrying letters of introduction from the King of Portugal. Why have you created all this mystery?"
"I am not trying to be mysterious Don Enrique," Pedro replied, his expression becoming grim as he continued to speak. "I am however being cautious in what I do. Think for a moment Senor as to why Dom Henrique fled to Ceuta."
"He fled there because his family has possessions there," Don Enrique replied without hesitation, "and because he has friends and acquaintances there who might aid him. Why do you ask Dom Pedro?"
"Can you tell me the names of Dom Henrique's friends, Don Enrique?" Pedro asked pointedly. "Can you tell me their number and what positions they hold within the city walls? Is one of them the governor of Ceuta or perhaps his valet? I don't know but I don't want to find out the hard way."
"You don't trust the governor of Ceuta?" Don Enrique exclaimed with disbelief in his voice. "But the man is a nobleman of Portugal and a loyal friend to the King. How can you not trust the man?"
"We are dealing with traitors," Ishmael turned and told the man. "You cannot trust anyone when you are dealing with traitors. Who knows where they are hiding?"
"Ishmael is correct," Bartholomew declared sheepishly. "We've already learned this lesson back on Eko. There were traitors in our midst and we didn't know about them. Only luck and the will of God spared Dom Pedro from the fate that his enemies had planned for him. None of us intend to see it happen again."
"Still the governor is a royal appointee," Don Enrique insisted vainly. "You must trust some one if you are to find Dom Pedro's cousins. The same applies to finding Dona Isabella de Cordoba. Without help we will blunder about and lose them."
"We will have help," Pedro told Don Enrique with a shake of his head, "but it will not come from the governor of Ceuta. Remember always that Don Henrique is a traitor to the crown hiding in a city ruled by a royal appointee. No man would do such a thing unless he felt safe. The governor may very well be loyal to the King of Portugal but others about him are probably not. I do not wish to fall foul of them and I do not want to sail into the harbour of Ceuta and alert our enemies of our presence in the city. The Hawk is a very recognizable vessel and I am certain if we make Ceuta in it, both Don Henrique and the henchman, Alfonso de Seville will hear about us long before the Hawk is secure from sea and we have made landfall on the quay. We need a better plan than that if we are to succeed."
"Agreed," both Ishmael and Bartholomew said as one.
"I agree as well Dom Pedro," Don Enrique admitted in surrender. "The way you've have explained it makes sense and I cannot argue otherwise. What do you think we should do?"
"We must arrive in Ceuta by other means," Pedro stated bluntly. "The question now is how. Should we come by land or by sea? What do you think my friends?
"Both routes would be risky," Ishmael muttered thoughtfully, "though I suspect that Don Henrique's agents will not be watching the city gates as carefully as they would watch the harbour. Still it will require us to travel through Moorish territory and that alone could place us in danger and arriving by another boat would entail other risks. We'd have to capture one first."
"Definitely and not just any craft if we are to succeed," Bartholomew interjected boldly, "though I doubt very much that you wish to stoop to piracy unless you plan to capture a Moorish craft such as the pirate boats that we captured the other day. Still these waters are usually crawling with them and we might be able to take one with ease. The risk would still be there both in the taking of the craft and the sailing of it into Ceuta. We could draw attention to our arrival before we have reached the city gates. Still we must pick one or another. Personally I would prefer a different plan. What do you think, Don Enrique?"
"Do we really need to find a ship?" Don Enrique asked looking towards Pedro as he spoke. "I mean, we don't really need to take one at sea or to try and convince a ship's captain to take our party aboard. Faro is but a half day from here and there might be a Portuguese trader there that you could hire to carry you into port and if not; there should be other ports closer to Ceuta where we could hire a boat. It would save anyone betraying us with idle chatter. We would just be a party of merchants heading for Ceuta and not a band boarding a ship at sea under mysterious conditions. Think about it."
"He is right," Ishmael declared before anyone else could say a word. "We've been playing games with the Condor too long and now we are thinking that it is the only way to do things. Perhaps we should pull into Faro or another port. We could hire a ship and the Hawk could trail behind us. It might make it easier."
"Agreed," Bartholomew declared with a look of relief on his face. "It would be better than the alternative."
"I agree as well," Pedro said with a smile. "It would lessen our risks considerably. Still in the end it will mean the same for you my old friend."
"And what would that be?" Bartholomew asked with a look of curiosity upon his face.
"Either way, you will be staying behind to command the Hawk," Pedro chuckled. "Somebody has to do it and this time, it won't be me."
There was no vessel bound for Ceuta at Faro and there was no vessel bound for Ceuta at the next two coastal ports that the Hawk called at. There was however a couple of vessels bound for Ceuta at the fourth port. Pedro hired them both.
The search for ships had added two additional days to the trip. It also added tension. Pedro found himself walking the deck of the Hawk each time Bartholomew rowed into a port to find out about what vessels lay at anchor and where they might be bound next. He also walked the deck continuously while the Hawk was underway. Ishmael made certain no one bothered him. The old warrior kept everyone at a distance, knowing rightly that his young master was worried. The fact that it wasn't hard to realize what Pedro was worried about didn't help much. His bearing and his brooding told people to keep away from him and Ishmael made certain they did.
The passage of the Hawk towards the entrance of the straits proved uneventful. The Hawk kept well out of Moorish waters and lookouts watched around the clock for the first sight of trouble. Luckily none occurred, although some aboard the Hawk had wished some had. A fight or a battle might have distracted their captain from his worries.
The fourth port was the Spanish port of Gibraltar. The port was little more than a fishing village but the anchorage there provided shelter to vessels bound through the straits into the Mediterranean and often merchant vessels dropped anchor there before sailing east or west. Some naturally sailed south to Ceuta from time to time to pick up cargos of exotic goods for shipment onward to European cities. It was here that Bartholomew found the two craft that were willing to take on Pedro and his party and to deliver them safely to Ceuta.
"What do you think Captain?" Bartholomew muttered softly to Pedro once all the negotiations were finished.
The craft hired were little more than large fishing boats. They were rowed by a dozen men and they were fitted with a single mast that could be raised and lowered as needed. The sail was a square rigged design but in the waters before the Pillars of Hercules it was effective. In addition to the crew the craft could carry six extra men each. Pedro would travel in one craft with Don Enrique and Ishmael would travel in the other. With them would travel a small party of guardsmen dressed like Moors.
"I think it is time to bid each other good luck my friend," Pedro said softly in reply, clasping the older man on the shoulder as he spoke. "The trip will not take long and by nightfall, with luck I will be inside the walls of the city. After that who knows what will befall my party and me. Hopefully we will find shelter and from there we will be able to acquire some help from the locals. I am carrying plenty of gold with me. I'm certain that it will open plenty of doors. With luck they will be the doors that we need opened."
"I'll follow you across," Bartholomew responded with a sigh, "and provide you escort until you begin your approach on the harbour there. Then I will take the Hawk out to sea and wait for you. I will keep you in my prayers my lord. I hope all goes well."
"I know you worry, my old friend," Pedro acknowledged softly, squeezing the other man's shoulder as he held it, "and I appreciate your concerns. I however need you aboard the Hawk and ready to react if trouble befalls me and my party. Give us two days within the city to skulk about and spy out where our enemies are hidden. Then if no word has reached you of our activities, bring the Hawk into harbour and seek out the governor. I doubt that his Excellency will be of much assistance but the arrival of the Hawk might cause our enemies to take flight and in fleeing they might show themselves or make a mistake. Again we can only pray and hope."
"I'll do as you say Captain," Bartholomew declared firmly. "Just be careful my lord and if possible bring the bastards back with you. I would like to see them dangle if at all possible and I'm certain the men will as well. Your enemies are also ours. Remember that my lord and again take care."
The harbour at Ceuta was a busy place. Between ships arriving from Europe to pick up cargos of exotic goods to carry northward to places like France and England, there were dozens of smaller craft from the Moorish kingdoms riding at anchor under the shelter of the city walls. Most of those craft were small coastal traders that were no bigger than the two craft that had carried Pedro and his men across the mouth of the strait. The presence of these ships helped hide their arrival from prying eyes.
"Where to Dom Pedro?" Don Enrique asked in a lowered voice. Don Enrique and Pedro were standing upon the quay watching small boats glide over the waters of the harbour travelling from one merchant to another and the shore. Their party of guardsmen stood a few feet away trying to remain inconspicuous. All of them were dressed in Moorish clothing in an attempt to disguise who they truly were.
"We will wait here for Ishmael and Martinez," Pedro replied in an equally low voice. "Ishmael has gone to check the gate leading from the harbour into the inner city. Once he has made certain that we can slip through without drawing too much attention from the guards then we will follow him back to them and then on into the city. We just need to remain patient. Sometimes these things take time."
As it turned out it did not take much time at all. Within the half hour Ishmael returned alone. For a moment Pedro looked at him with concern.
"I sent Martinez ahead," Ishmael stated when he spotted Pedro's questioning gaze. "While we were at the gate I made a few inquires about lodgings. For a coin or two the guards on duty there turned out to be very informative. I've sent Martinez to check a couple of places that were recommended and to have a look about. He won't go too far out of the way though; I told him to be careful."
"All right then, you can lead on," Pedro nodded his understanding. "From the sound of it we can head into the city and settle in for the day."
"We can," Ishmael agreed before turning to head back up the quay and towards the city gate. "Just follow me. Once out of sight and settled in where no one will take note of us we can start making inquiries. Then once we've learned a thing or two we can start making plans."
The inn was well past the great walls that ringed the city and the system of moats that protected it. It took Ishmael almost an hour to lead the group to it. When the group finally arrived they found Martinez waiting for them there.
"I've got rooms arranged and food ordered," the soldier informed both Pedro and Ishmael when he came up to them to report. The rooms are upstairs and away from the front of the building. We should have some privacy. The innkeeper will serve us once we've settled in."
"Good," Pedro murmured in reply. "Let's get off the street and out of sight. Once we've eaten something we can start looking for Dom Henrique and the Condor's henchman. Hopefully we will get lucky and find them both in the same place. It would make our lives that much easier."
"It would indeed," Ishmael agreed as he indicated to Martinez to lead them into the inn. "I will pray that Allah hears you and makes it so."
"Again my old friend," Pedro murmured in a low voice as he patted Ishmael upon the shoulder as the man moved to walk in front of Pedro, "we can only hope."
"I think we can do business," the man told Pedro.
It was evening and the group was in their rooms at the inn. Ishmael had been out for most of the day talking to people. He'd taken Martinez and a guardsman with him. Pedro and Don Enrique had remained at the inn. It had been a long day. Don Enrique was a man of action. Waiting wasn't his best skill. Pedro understood however it had made the day stretch even longer than it had needed to. Now they were talking to someone that Ishmael had found in the backstreets of the city. The man was old and wizened in appearance but there was still hardness to the look in his eyes and it was obvious that the man wasn't someone you wanted to annoy. The man was a Moor who lived in the city and who did business here. He was better dressed than many of his brethren and he carried a curved knife at his belt.
"This city is old," the man went on when Pedro had said nothing in response to his statement. "It is said that it was founded by the ancients long before the faithful came here and long before the infidels claimed the city. There are secrets here that only a handful knows of fully and I am one of them. For coin I can answer your questions."
"Then first we will eat," Pedro muttered softly a smile forming on his lips, "and dine as friends. Then we will talk of what you can do for me and what I can do for you and the faithful."
The man's eyes grew wide when Pedro spoke of food and hospitality. He remained silent as Pedro signalled a serving boy to bring platters of food to the table where Pedro sat with Ishmael and Don Enrique and the local man. Then he smiled when Pedro tore a chunk of bread from a piece of flatbread and he dipped it in a dish of hummus.
"Yes," the man agreed when Pedro ate the bread and dip, "we can eat first and then speak of business as friends."
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