A Jester’s Fortune

Vigo, Ferrol and Cadiz past Gibraltar. Should the Spanish throw in with the French, there'd be no more urgency to obtaining oak or building their own… oh, but surely not!

But, he countered his own argument, should the Frogs get to sea, they'd need sailors. And where best to get sailors but from one's own merchant marine? Large ships would be unable to hire sailors in proper numbers, but the smallest ships could still be worked by fewer hands.

'Sir?' Kolodzcy coughed politely, rousing him from his thoughts.

'Aye, sorry.'

'De Field of Black Birds… ve are beck to dhat. He says he ist nod pi-rade by choice,' Kolodzcy told him. 'Ist only vay to strike de butchers ohf his folk, unt pud heart in de Serb peoble. Id ist a holy think he does, to speed de day ohf revenge unt freedom. Unt make a new Serb Empire… regain vhat de Durks, de Croats, de Muslims, Bulgars unt… 'Ungarians, take from dhem. To lifd de yoke ohf obbression, he insisds.'

Kolodzcy paused as Petracic put out a hand and began to orate to them. He rose to his feet to pace the low- ceilinged cabin, gesticulate wide, though his voice was low, gruff and almost ruggedly sing-song. A faint melody to it? Lewrie puzzled. Like another of those folk-poems… or a litany? Aye, he'd been a parson, a priest, first! He was crooning what sounded like an Eastern Orthodox liturgy! A Serbian Orthodox…

'De time ist gomink, he says,' Kolodzcy went on. 'Vord hess spread, many brave fighters heff been roust. De Durks heff grown too veak, unt de Croats are avay, fightink for Austria. Dhis war is de godsend. He says he gannot resd until he hess struck a blow, von a grade wictory… a sign ohf de beginnink ohf de end to zenturies ohf torture, murder unt slavery, to all true Serbs. Takink French wessels ist gute, for id brings gold unt arms. Men flock to him for weapons… leadership… now a Serb… navy!… hess been born. Bud, id ist nod enough. Dhat ist earthly kingdom ohf Mammon. He musd raise a Serbian army, unt dhat vill require a grade wictory… vhich vill be de sign! More muskets, cannon… gold unt silver to recruit unt pay a new army. Foreign egsberts in artillery, drill, siegevork…'

Petracic leaned over them for a bit, almost imploring, hands to his breast and his voice a coaxing sob; the next moment he was flailing his arms in a righteous rant, stalking about, petulant, demanding and angry. 'If he does nod gain a wictory soon, he thinks, he ist fearink de loss ohf dhose men he now hess,' Kolodzcy resumed. 'Dhose who are sadis-vied vit liddle, who vill quit once dhey gain only earthly weak'. Ach! He ist demandink us to find him a wictory… zomethink impressive! If noddink else, just one more rich ship, a big ship, to silence de small-minded, vhile he gadders de true patriots. Before it falls apart. If dhat means goink into ports vhere big ships hide, dhen dhat ist vhat ve musd do, vit him. In de holy cause, de holy name ohf de Srpski Narod!'

'We dealin' with a complete lunatick?' Lewrie whispered, while Pe-tracic's back was turned as he shouted at the bulkheads. Kolodzcy wiped sweat from his face with a lace handkerchief and shushed at him.

'Tell him I strongly advise against a move like that,' Lewrie objected in the first pause for breath. 'First off…'

Wait a bit, Alan thought sourly; what the Devil do I care, does he get his arse knackered? And he will, sure as Fate, if he irritates one o' the local Balkan powers. Even the Venetians could eat him up!

'First off, tell him,' Lewrie went on, 'the French are sheltered in neutral Venetian ports. Second, our agreement was to secretly cooperate, never to operate together right out in the open. To even be seen together like this, this close to shore, is risk enough already. Third, we… we counted on his assistance in our troubles, and now he's ready to go off and do something on his own. Captain Charlton expects him to aid us first… then take care of his own affairs once his men are experienced and he's grown strong enough to do both.'

'He asks, does grade power like England vish his help? Ve heff done liddle to make him strong. Two small ships we heff given him so far. Unt for dhis, ve ask him to valk like a leasht dog. He says, if he reneges on our agreement, who vill England find dhat vill aid us?'

'Why … no one, I'd expect,' Alan candidly admitted, after some furious thought. 'Did we approach any Muslims? No. Did we ever think of the Croats? No,' he lied. 'We came to the Serbs, and him, direct. We'd… heard of him. His bravery, his skill, his daring…'

'Gendle him down, ja, I see. Vit fladdery.' Kolodzcy nodded. 'You vill allow me to… gild die lily, zo to sbeak, herr Lewrie?'

No, ya don't see, Lewrie thought; but you will.

'And make sure he knows this, sir,' Alan added. 'England understands, and sympathises, with the plight of the Serb people. We see his desire… their desire for a free, independent and sovereign Serbia as natural, I'm certain. While there is little we may do, as long as we're at war with France, to aid in his most holy cause, I'm sure our King George would wish them every success. Against the Turks.'

'Ah, ja,' Kolodzcy simpered, hiding his cynical amusement.

'We cannot overtly aid him, tell him. I have strict orders not to, no matter my own wishes,' Lewrie intoned carefully. 'Until Serbia, or the Serb people, are so organised they could form formal, recognisable diplomatic relations with Great Britain, our hands are tied when it comes to aiding his cause. No matter how much England may wish to see the Ottoman Empire confounded and rolled back and an independent Serbia established… we cannot recognise what doesn't yet exist.'

Lewrie waited while Kolodzcy translated all that, observing the glint of interest, the unlooked-for hope that most suspiciously came to Petracic s demeanour as he heard that vague assurance.

'We ourselves haven't discovered a large enemy merchantman the last few weeks, tell him. So I cannot whistle one up for him. That is up to him, and the diligence he uses to sweep this local sea. And as for what would best hold the allegiance of his less-dedicated men… what deed would bring in the wholehearted, or ignite the passions of Serbs ashore… inland… well, I'm certain he would know best as to that. I've always heard, 'Fortune favours the bold.' Does he have the wish to uphold his nation's honour, kill his people's enemies… make his country great once more, well… that's as high a calling as I feel for England. I don't fight for prize-money alone, like a pirate or privateer, tell him. Not just for fame or glory, either…'

Bloody Hell, but you can trowel it on thick! he chid himself and his sudden noble noises; would've made a grand theatric orator!

'Ahh… herr Lewrie?' Kolodzcy harshly injected. 'Mein Gott, bitte! You do nod know vhat you do, sir! Dhey are zo easily aroust!'

'M'favourite sort o' woman, sir.' Lewrie gently smiled at him. 'Go on. Tell him all I've said. 'Cept that bit about the women.'

It took a bit of time, and Alan watched Ratko Petracic stiffen, his handsome face battle a smile of pleasure, his fathomless eyes turn misty. Petracic's chest heaved with deep-drawn emotions. Charlton had told him that Eastern Orthodox people were more of the heart than the head, in religion and in life. Portents, omens, coincidences… that would all be playing in his heart that instant, weighing a pointless career of only faintly rumoured piracy, or a chance to strike, to rise, at last… and undying fame as an avenger.

Lewrie ransacked his memory for something mystical, some ringing Classic's declamation, that might tip Petracic over the edge. A noble, a clean poem-he didn't know that many; it was a desperate rummaging. But could he goad Petracic into some deed, something insane and fraught with peril, they'd finally be shot of pirates.

'He thinks, sir,' Kolodzcy intoned, looking a trifle sick, 'he hess earthly unt heavenly, in one. A blow struck for Srpski Narod vill also frighten foreign traders into leafink.'

'It may, at that,' Lewrie quite cheerfully agreed, making free on the plum brandy, beginning to find some delight beneath its harshness, 'though I'd advise him to think long and careful before he acts. Take time to sniff about… time to unite all his ships. His… squadron,' Lewrie deemed it without betraying an ounce of sarcasm, 'with Mlavic s squadron. And where is he, by the way?'

'He says Dragan Mlavic ist avay… on his vay beck to Palagruza. To transbord de prisoners ohf dheir few brizes. Bud his squadron ist here, except for his brig. He leafs de dhow. Kapitan Petracic boasts he now hess dhis schooner, his 'galliot, de dhow, two feluccas, unt he hess a ceptured French brig alzo he