The Vampire Megapack. Nina Kiriki Hoffman
men will be grateful for any food you provide,” said Sant-Germainus.
“There will be meat, too, once I make the spit ready.”
“If you let me out, I might help you,” Sant-Germainus suggested.
“I am not permitted to do that, and well you know it,” said Brother Hylas. “I am required to keep you where you are.”
“Because I might be a diversion, or my story could be a ruse?” he guessed.
“Or you might warn your comrades: we won’t allow that,” said Brother Hylas; the last of this faded as he walked away from the door.
Sant-Germainus listened to the departing footsteps, his vexation increasing as he considered what he had stumbled into. At least he was on dry land, he reminded himself, and he would not have to deal with the pirates wholly on his own. But there was so much he needed to understand before the monks returned. Hoping to better understand his predicament, he took another turn about the long, narrow, dining hall, making note of the height and condition of the windows—too narrow to climb out of easily—as well as the layout of the room itself: dining hall it might be, but it also served as a prison. Finally he was satisfied that he had scrutinized the dining hall sufficiently—he understood how expertly he had been rendered ineffective. He sat on the end of the long bench and looked toward the far door. What on earth did these monk intend for the men of Captain Argourus’ ship? He sighed slowly, letting the possibilities play through his head. “Very well,” he said quietly. “Each of them are preparing an ambush, the monks and the pirates.”
“You can make a plea to Saint Dismas,” said Brother Hylas from beyond the door some little time later. “He may protect you. He protects thieves.”
“Saint Dismas?” Sant-Germainus repeated.
“Our patron. We have taken good and slaves when it has been necessary. Saint Dismas aids us, in the name of Christ. His likeness stands near you. Lift your oil-lantern and see him. You know he is the thief because his hand is struck off. We have made him our protector, and our guardian.” He laughed and repeated “He protects thieves.”
Sant-Germainus felt himself go cold. “Then I must suppose your Brothers are going to steal or capture the cargo and crew of the ship—as much as is left for the taking.”
“Of course: we are thieves in honor of our saint. How else could such a place as this survive on this island? What God sends us, we gladly accept, in the name of our patron.” He laughed. “Jesus paid for our sins, and we are redeemed through our faith. Saint Dismas is our provider, and as is his wont, he sends us plunder when we are in need. As to how we live, we live how we must.”
“Holy criminals, in other words?” Sant-Germainus asked.
“Some might say so,” Brother Hylas said, sounding both proud and amused. “We have often done deeds worthy of salvation, for which we give eternal thanks.”
“And the men from the ship—?”
“They will be fed and given water if they will surrender and be sold. If they will not, then the sea shall have them, and God may spare them or leave them to the Devil.”
“As has happened to many another?” Sant-Germainus guessed aloud.
“As you say,” Brother Hylas chuckled. “You will have the right to choose if you will be slaves or drowned.”
“All of us?”
“Yes. All of you.” Brother Hylas paused. “In a month, ships will set out from Rhodes, and they will come here. We will exchange you seamen for the food and drink and oil the merchants of Rhodes bring us. There are enough of you that we may also get some gold.”
“I see,” said Sant-Germainus. “What will you do with us between then and now?”
“Set you to work,” said Brother Hylas, as if it were obvious. “There is much to be done to this monastery, and to the harbor in the inlet below. You shall not be kept as hogs, to root and wallow all day. You shall labor as oxen labor.”
Lowering his head, Sant-Germainus tried not to give way to ironic despair. After all the sea and pirates could do, that it should come to this! How fitting, he thought, that Captain Argourus would be captured by these Brothers! A pirate seized by thievish monks! He hesitated before he spoke again, for he would have to find a way to keep himself away from the rest of the men in their captivity—he and Rutgeros. He decided to take a risk. “You and your Brothers—do you accept ransoms as well as slave-prices?”
“If ransoms can be got,” said Brother Hylas. “Why?”
“I am a merchant with many ships. The one on which I sailed, the Morning Star, was taken by pirates, and the crew and oarsmen put to work on their ship, which now lies on the south side of this island. They did not kill me because I have gold in Constantine’s City, and in Tyre and Alexandria, which they planned to demand in ransom, and I am the blood relative of a rich widow of Roma: Domina Clemens. If you will keep me and my manservant, and the oarsmen and sailors from the Morning Star safe until spring, I will arrange for a handsome payment to you, through this woman, and supplies as well, as much as anything Captain Argourus could gain you.”
“Gold in far places is gold on the moon,” said Brother Hylas.
“My ships stop at Naxos; I can send word to my captains when shipping resumes. Until then, I will see that my crew and my manservant do nothing against you.” As he said it, he shivered a little, knowing how much his men had already been pushed, and how difficult it would be too keep them in order.
“Why should you do this?” There was an edge in his question that revealed how great his doubts were.
“They are in danger from sailing on my vessel. I should do my utmost to see they do not suffer greater harm.” He would have to dispatch a letter to Olivia as soon as any ship put in to the harbor; once Olivia knew he was in the hands of these monks, she would order a half-dozen of his ships to come after him, ready to deal with the monastery and its monks.
“Do you have gold to offer while we wait for shipping to resume?”
“I have a dozen jewels,” countered Sant-Germainus. “The pirates did not find them because they did not know where to look.” He knew Rutgeros would have the hollow brass sea-guide with him, and its concealed contents.
“And these are true jewels, not ones counterfeit?” Brother Hylas made no effort to conceal his interest.
“They are true jewels.” Sant-Germainus had made them himself in his athanor. “If you will accept them, and spare my men, I will arrange for you to receive more.”
“What is to stop me from taking your sea-guide from your servant and keeping the jewels for our monastery?”
“Only that this is the season of the Nativity, and your god sent us to you,” said Sant-Germainus. “My manservant will point out the Morning Star crew when he and the others return.”
“Brother Theron will have to decide. He rules here,” said Brother Hylas, his voice sounding already half-persuaded.
“He would be a fool to refuse jewels, gold, and provisions,” said Sant-Germainus.
“He would be a greater fool to keep worthless men about,” Brother Hylas countered.
Sant-Germainus was silent for a short while, letting Brother Hylas reflect. Then he said, “Twenty gold coins for each of the oarsmen and crew, forty for my manservant, and fifty for me. It will be delivered on the first ship of my trading company to reach here from Ravenna in the spring.” He knew the amount was double what they would fetch in a slave-market, and larger than many ransoms paid in the last decade. “And ten silver Emperors for every day you keep us here.” The amount was not so much that it would tempt the Brothers to hold onto them, but enough to make housing and feeding them worthwhile.
“It is a goodly sum,” said Brother Hylas. “And a promise easily made. It might