'I doubt if they have any more wish to carry supplies unnecessarily.'
'We'll soon know, once we start questioning our former galley slaves,' Southwick said. 'That's one thing they'll know about, even if they aren't sure about depths in the harbour.'
For the rest of the day it continued to blow a good breeze from the north-west as the little flotilla stretched its way south-west towards the western tip of Sicily, leaving Ischia and Procida to the north and Capri to the south. And it was a simple course: the first land they would sight would be the tooth-shaped volcanic island of Ustica, forty miles north of Sicily and directly on the line to Cape San Vito, where they started turning to larboard to pass Trapani and then Marsala, Mazara, Sciacca and Empedocle.
Would it be necessary to visit every one of the ports, or would they get enough information from the first two? Ramage knew that although there was no great hurry, he did not want to waste too much time sailing up and down the Sicilian coast. Way to the south was the challenge of Sidi Rezegh, at present an unknown quantity. Unknown but not necessarily unwelcome. Not having the faintest idea of what was ahead, the operation had a tinge of mystery.
Supposing, Ramage thought to himself, the Saracens so outnumber us that they capture the two frigates and two sloops: would all the ships' companies and the troops be sent to galleys? The Saracens would probably have too many slaves for the number of galleys they now possessed. Well, Ramage thought harshly, they would have a spare set.
He had thought a lot about the slaves in the galleys. Theirs was a terrible fate. Kept on shore in what were no doubt terrible conditions, they were (according to the prisoners they had released) taken to the galleys as needed and then held in position at the oars by chains round the ankle, so their bodies were free to work at the oars but they could not leave their seats.
They were kept in time as they rowed by one of the Saracens beating a gong (some of the galleys had bells), and to make sure that they rowed with all their strength one or two Saracens walked along the catwalk on the centreline of the galley lashing them with long-tailed leather whips.
They were fed in the morning and at night; there was no midday meal. Water was issued three times a day, half a gourd for each man, and it was handed out so clumsily that often half of the water spilled.
If a man collapsed over his oar - from exhaustion or sickness -the master of the galley, who lived in a small open-sided cabin aft, came and inspected the man. If it was exhaustion he was left an hour to recover and then roused with a flogging, but if the man was ill (fevers were very common) the man was freed from the manacle round his ankle, and then he was thrown over the side. There was no fuss or ceremony; the manacle was unlocked, the man lifted out of his seat, and then he was pushed out through the oar port.
This meant, of course, that there was one man less at the oar: there were usually two, but in the bigger galleys three. If there were only two, the other man was put on another oar as an extra; if there were three, then the remaining two had to carry on rowing alone.
The most common cause of a man collapsing was gangrene: two manacles round the ankles caused hideous sores which turned gangrenous. There was no attempt to treat any of the sick men; they were worked until they collapsed and if there was no chance of them recovering, they were hove over the side. It was brutal, but it was in line with the Arab attitude towards death, with the difference that infidels did not go to Paradise.
So a man captured and sent to the galleys was, in effect, sentenced to row until he was no longer fit to pull on the oar, then he drowned. How long did a man last? Was it weeks, months or years? Obviously not long; the Saracens were always looking for slaves; presumably they were the replacements.
They reached Marsala the following afternoon and the Calypso anchored. A cutter was hoisted out and Ramage and Southwick were rowed ashore, the master equipped with pencil and paper. The mayor was delighted at seeing Ramage again but at first was nervous, afraid that Ramage's sudden arrival off the port meant that another Saracen raid was expected.
As soon as Ramage explained the reason for his visit the mayor sent several small boys off through the town to collect up the former prisoners and bring them in for Ramage to question.
When the men arrived they too were excited at seeing Ramage again, anxious to shake his hand and assure him that they had recovered from their ordeal in the galleys. When he explained the reason for his visit he met with an excited chorus. He then divided his questions into sections, starting off with the general shape of the harbour and town of Sidi Rezegh. All the men agreed on that and they drew a large diagram in the dust outside the mayor's house, each of them adding to it as he remembered something.
Finally Southwick said to Ramage: 'Ask them about the channel in and see if they know any depths.'
To Ramage's surprise, several of the men not only remembered how the channel ran, but could give reasonably accurate estimates of depths. These men were the fishermen among the former prisoners, and although they did not remember all the facts immediately, they soon scratched in details in the dust as Ramage questioned them and they recalled details which they did not realize they knew.
The greatest difficulty was in agreeing to a scale: the men had varying ideas about distance. Finally it was agreed when they worked out how many paces they walked from their barracks to the galleys. They all agreed on the size of the barracks and the brothel and were able to describe where the doors were. They also agreed that the population of Sidi Rezegh was about six thousand, a figure they could visualize because they compared it with Marsala.
There was a small fort on the seaward end of the quay and the men argued whether there were three or four guns on the top. Certainly no more: they were all agreed on that.
Muskets? Their guards at the barracks had a couple of muskets. Very old and elaborate, and engraved with complex designs. They estimated that there might be half a dozen muskets in the town. And no, they had never heard the cannon on the little fort fire. Nor, for that matter, had they ever noticed any men up there; they could not remember seeing any lookouts.
The one thing that they all remembered vividly was the frequency with which the men prayed. Several times a day - one man said five - they flung themselves to the ground and prayed, the signal being given by a horn blown from the mosque at the back of the town.
Finally, with no more details to be added to the diagram drawn in the dust, Southwick made a copy of it, carefully scaling it off. After he had completed the drawings, they were shown round for the men to inspect. Southwick had done two, one of a chart of the harbour, with as many depths as the men could remember, and a map of the town, showing the important buildings. Most of the men had never seen a chart or a map before, and none could add any more details.
Ramage thanked them for their help and said goodbye to the mayor who, Ramage realized, was so proud of the diagram drawn in the dust outside his front door that he would have liked to have it framed.
Back on board the Calypso the two men went down to Ramage's cabin and examined the chart and map more carefully, and Southwick drew in a compass rose. 'I wonder how much more detail we're going to get from the other places,' he said.
'Not much, I fear,' Ramage said. 'These men remembered the obvious things, and I don't think anyone else will be able to add much.'
'Well, at a pinch we have enough already. We know what the place looks like now, and we know how to get in. And we know where our objectives are. We're lucky that both the barracks and the brothel are near the quay.'
'We're lucky that there is a quay,' Ramage commented. 'I was afraid we might have to land on a beach some distance from the town and storm the place.'
'I wouldn't give much for our chances if we did: we couldn't do it without Braising the alarm, and a couple of thousand of those Saracens ready to drive us off doesn't sound like the recipe for victory.'
The Calypso weighed and they sailed along to Mazara, at the mouth of the torrente Mazara. The frigate anchored off the silted up harbour and once again Ramage and Southwick went ash ire in the cutter, Southwick holding his chart and map. The master gestured up at the clear sky and commented: 'I don't think we shall be bothered by II Marrobbio. They say it only occurs when it's hot and humid.'
Ramage, who had no wish to experience the small tidal wave for which the port was famous, nodded his head. 'Certainly, it doesn't seem the weather for it.'
Once they had landed on the quay, Ramage led the way up towards the domed cathedral and the bishop's palace, sending a man on ahead to warn the mayor that they were coming. The man, recognizing Ramage, was only too anxious to carry the message after being reassured that Ramage's arrival was not a warning that the Saraceni were coming.
The mayor, like his counterpart at Marsala, was pleased to see Ramage after being reassured that the Saraceni were not coming, and once Ramage explained the reason for his call, he sent off a crowd of small boys to collect up the former prisoners.
'We still miss our four tartanes that those Saraceni stole,' he said. 'And as for the men who did not return - well, we say a Mass for them every Sunday, but losing so many men - not to mention the women - is a grievous loss. Not,' he added hastily, 'that we aren't grateful for the return of those of our men the Commandante rescued at Licata.'
The first of the former prisoners soon arrived and greeted Ramage like a long-lost father, their attitude being a mixture of awe and respect.
As they gathered round him outside the mayor's house, Ramage explained what he wanted. He had given a lot of thought to his approach and knowing that the majority of the men would not be able to read a chart or map, decided to repeat the method he had used at Marsala - scratching a diagram in the dust.
But at first he asked the men how many people they thought lived at Sidi Rezegh, and they were unanimous in saying about the same number as lived in Mazara.
Ramage looked at the mayor for help. 'More than five thousand live here,' he said. 'I don't know the exact number - I can only give you the number on the tax roll and guess how many women and children there are. But not less than five thousand, I assure you of that.'
Then the men started giving details of the harbour. Three men -again fishermen - remembered more depths, judged from the draught of the galleys and the courses they steered to get out of the harbour. But two of the men could give accurate figures concerning the depths in other parts of the harbour - they had noticed how much rope had been paid out when they had anchored. There was a section of the harbour near the entrance where there were depths of twenty-five to thirty feet - more than enough for the frigates. Two more of the men knew the whereabouts of a shoal in the centre of the harbour, and this was drawn in the dust.
They were all agreed that there were four cannon on top of the fort and that they never saw lookouts or guards up there. Several of them commented on the number of times that the Saraceni prayed during the day.
'They would keep our bishop busy,' one of the men commented. 'He would not have time to grow that great paunch of his.'
Ramage noticed that one of the men was silently weeping, and he quietly asked the mayor the reason. 'The poor man's wife was one of the women taken away,' the mayor said. 'He knows he will never see her again.'
'There's a hope,' Ramage said, 'but perhaps no more than that, so it is better not to mention it.'
The Mazara men were better at gauging distances than those at Marsala and their estimates were added to the diagram. When they all agreed they could remember no more, Southwick added the extra details to his diagrams and explained them to the men, who looked at them closely without being able to give any more
