The Barbary Inheritance

By Robert T Rice

Zak was a child alone in a strange city – and starving. Weakened by weeks without food he hadn’t the strength to flee when he stole a loaf of bread.
The incident was witnessed by Madam Ziya who bribed the official not to carry out the usual sentence of cutting off the offending hand. Madam Ziya then adopted Zak and educated him in the ways of life.
When old enough, Zak was taken to sea by notorious pirate Captain Del Greco – the lover of Madam Ziya – and soon became a father figure to Zak.
Timothy Rosemount was the son of Lord Rosemount and when Timothy and Zak met there was an instant hatred between them – fuelled by the fact that both men had fallen in love with Abigail.
Zak accidently killed Abigail’s father and was hunted down relentlessly by Timothy who had joined the Royal Navy – resulting in a series of ferocious sea battles.
Lord Rosemount’s gambling addiction threatens to leave Timothy penniless but is saved when he captures Zak’s fortune. The sole benefactor will be Timothy’s only daughter Lana – to whom he is devoted. However, Zak has become devoted to Lana also.
Zak or Timothy must die – it is only a matter of time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert T Rice
• Release date: Nov 17, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465924834

Robert T Rice

A long time ago Robert was born in Helensburgh on the River Clyde (west coast of Scotland) before travelling overseas to live in Gourock – on the other side of the Clyde. ‘Born to write’ – although he managed to serve on HMS Ark Royal, create a successful building company, become an hotelier and poultry farmer and excel as a property developer. All of this before he was ‘born to write’. Happily retired, he has been able to spend more time with his family, play golf (restricted to only 6 days a week nowadays) and fulfil a lifelong ambition of writing and publishing adventure fiction novels. Past Captain and Honorary Member of Gourock Golf Club, raconteur and all round great guy.

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THE BARBARY INHERITANCE

Robert T Rice

Copyright Robert T Rice 2010

Published by OystercatchersBooks Ltd

Published at Smashwords

THE BARBARY INHERITANCE

Part One – Del Greco of the Barbary Coast

Chapter one

The Right Reverend Nigel Harbourne stood in his pulpit delivering the finest sermon he had ever written. He was the vicar of St Michaels and All Angels Church in the village of Selcoomb.

The energy to write the sermon arose from the fact that it was his last. On Thursday he was leaving to take up missionary work in India. India was the last place on earth that he wished to go. However, his wife had discovered that the fast track to promotion in the church was to become a missionary. Therefore, to India he must go. He paused in the middle of his oratory and looked at his congregation. They were not in the least bit interested in what he was saying. He couldn’t really blame them because for the last nine years, he had spouted so much drivel that he could hardly be surprised.

As he continued his deliverance and looked at his congregation, old Mrs Brown snored silently in the front row. How she managed it was a mystery he never solved. The church was built with a balcony which ran round the church about ten feet above the pulpit. On normal Sundays, the place was one third full. This was a normal Sunday.

On his left hand side of the balcony sat the girls from an exclusive private school. They were flanked by two school mistresses who would probably have been burnt at the stake for witchcraft some years earlier. Directly opposite them sat a local family which consisted of the father, his wife, son and daughter. The father and son looked after the village thatched roofs.

Nigel guessed the man’s son was about sixteen years of age. He noticed that the boy could not keep his eyes off an extremely beautiful girl sitting opposite him. The girl always sat in the same place and always wore a distinctive black and yellow scarf which was not part of her uniform. Nigel felt sorry for the lad knowing that the social divide was too great for him to conquer. The girl’s name is Abigail Harbourne, his daughter. Nigel’s wife had gone to extreme lengths to push their daughter towards Lord Thomas Rosemount’s son and heir, Timothy Rosemount, which was another reason for their trip to India. Timothy Rosemount had bought a commission in the Royal Navy and had been posted to a naval shore establishment in India. Nigel couldn’t stand the snivelling little sod and he wasn’t quite sure of his daughter’s feelings for Rosemount. However, he figured she was too much under her mother’s influence to voice her own opinion. Nigel did not want his daughter to have anything to do the boy but he had to accept that socially and financially it was a good move for Abigail. The real reason he did not object to the relationship was the fear of his wife.

He looked down at his extremely beautiful wife who was eighteen years younger than him. She was now thirty five years of age and his daughter Abigail was sixteen. She was not even remotely interested in his sermon and instead sat smoothing out her hair and sneaking looks to find out who was admiring her.

Then there was old Tucker, the biggest rogue in the village who came to church believing all his sins of fleecing everyone he knew would be forgiven.

His gaze fell on the village schoolmaster who caught his glance and smiled back. ‘Do you know that I know you are shagging my wife, you bastard’, he mused silently. Didn’t matter though, he was leaving on Thursday. He cut his sermon short and ended the service. No-one noticed.

Chapter Two – India Bound

The journey down to Portsmouth was uneventful. They slept in an inn that night and were delivered to the docks in the morning.

Where is the Fairwinds? Nigel asked a porter.

Over there Sir. Are you sailing on her? You’re very lucky, she’s brand new, the speediest ship afloat and the most beautiful".

Nigel looked down at the Clipper. She was all the porter had said she was and more. She had the loveliest lines of any ship he had ever seen, obviously built for speed. Within the next few hours they had boarded the Fairwinds and had been shown to their cabins. After settling in, they were given a tour of the ship. While the family stood on deck the dock porters cast off the ropes. Abigail waved to the spectators as the ship’s sails filled out and it headed into the English Channel.

All that day and night, Fairwinds sailed towards the Bay of Biscay. Nigel was enjoying the experience. He had never sailed before but they had entered the Bay of Biscay and the weather was deteriorating. He began to feel a little bit queasy. Before long they were experiencing a full blown storm. Nigel was too sick to notice that his wife and daughter were born sailors who were enjoying the violent motions of the ship. The captain had reduced sail and the ship was rigged for stormy weather.

Chapter Three – Del Greco, Privateer

Captain Del Greco was also sailing through the Bay of Biscay. He also had rigged his ship for storm sailing. Del Greco was a privateer with a large reward for his head in numerous countries. He looked over at Zak, his adopted son. The lad was six feet two inches tall and despite a vicious scar down the length of his face, he was extremely handsome. His jet black hair and striking blue eyes combined with an athletic figure which made him stand out from the crowd. As he looked at his son, he knew it was time for them to part company. The lad had grown too strong for him to handle. His ship, the Sea Serpent, was a fast thirty two gun frigate, captured from the French navy. His crew was made up of vicious cut-throats, mainly from North Africa. He had promised the lad that the first decent ship that they captured would be his.

There was a knock on the cabin door and a crewman entered. There’s a sail on the port bow Captain. Del Greco grabbed a telescope and headed for the deck. He raised the scope to his right eye and studied the ship on the horizon. Without lowering the telescope, he muttered to his mate, It’s too fast for us and the weather’s too rough. We’ll have to let this one go. Besides, she’s English.

Zak Del Greco looked at the Captain he had been named after and pulled the telescope from his grasp. He looked at the ship on the horizon and let out an involuntary gasp. He lowered the telescope then raised it again to find the ship’s flag. Raise the White Ensign, hoist all sails, he yelled. Captain Del Greco started to object then changed his mind.

The officer of the watch on board the Fairwinds reported to his Captain that a ship flying the white ensign was approaching fast. "He is fully rigged in this storm. He must be mad. But then he is Royal Navy. Well there’s no need to take any action replied the Captain.

Chapter Four – Gold

Zak Williams was in love. He had met and fallen in love with a Russian diplomat’s daughter, Zvetlana. The problem was that Zak was a useless drifter who was prospecting for gold in Afghanistan. Born and brought up in California, he had caught the gold fever that was rife in that state. Zvetlana’s father was totally against the relationship and promised to disown his daughter, who was one of a family of six, if she ever took anything to do with the drifter Williams.

Zvetlana was totally different from her five sisters who were dowdy and plain looking girls, with little personality of their own and altogether dull. She was the apple of her father’s eye and could dazzle any man with her sparkling blue eyes. Altogether, she was a dark haired beauty with a bubbling personality to match.

It was love at first sight when she laid her eyes on Zak. Although she had led a sheltered life, she had no doubt that the tall lanky Californian with eyes to match her own and a smile that melted her heart was the one for her.

Williams had a small legacy he had inherited from a maiden aunt, which gave him the courage to elope with Zvetlana. At a prearranged time and date, they met at a place in Kabul and headed out on a long trek over the Hindu Kush. Finally, they settled down in a house in Herat and for a while everything was one big honeymoon, until Zvetlana became pregnant. Zak realised his money would not last for ever and left Zvetlana and his new born son and set off to find the elusive gold.

Four years had passed, Zvetlana had no money left and there was no sign of Zak Williams. Zvetlana took on all sorts of menial tasks and begged when she had to, but she could not make enough money to feed herself and her son. She had called the boy Zak after his father. One day she got an offer from a rich businessman for her to become his mistress. This would give her enough money to feed and clothe herself and her son so with a tortured mind, she felt she had no alternative but to accept the offer. A further year passed by and young Zak was developing nicely, having received nourishing food and shelter. Then disaster struck.

The businessman’s wife discovered the illegal liaison. The couple were taken to court, found guilty and sentenced to death. Conveniently, the businessman escaped and disappeared. Zvetlana was sentenced to be stoned to death. The crowd formed a circle. In the centre Zvetlana was tied to a wooden post. Zak stood in the crowd, flanked by two strong men. He did not know what was happening. There was complete silence. Then an old crone threw a stone at his mother. Shocked, Zak yelled out and tried to run to help her, but strong hands held him back. He struggled, bit and kicked, all to no avail. Exhausted, he collapsed as the hands released him and he fell into a heap on the ground. The crowd had dispersed. His mother was a shapeless mound, with her blood seeping into the dry ground. There was nothing left of his mother to hold. Drying his eyes, he swore he would never cry again. That night he gathered all the food he could carry and left Herat. The next morning the old crow who threw the first stone was found dead in a pool of blood. She had been stabbed.

After marching for several hours, he caught up with a caravan that was heading for Turkey. They allowed him to join them provided he worked his passage. He was given every menial task they had, cleaning and grooming the camels, gathering the camel dung for fuel, digging latrines, etc. He carried out all the tasks without complaint. Many months later they arrived in Constantinople and he was on his own again.

He scoured the city looking for work but to no avail. He couldn’t speak the language and he was considered too young to be of any use. A fortnight had passed and he was starving. As he passed a bakers shop, hunger forced him to grab a loaf and run. The baker gave chase and he was too weak to escape. The ruling of the court was mandatory. He had to have his hand cut off.

Madam Ziya was buying bread when Zak stole the loaf. She saw the desperation in his eyes and her heart went out to him. She was the Madam of the finest brothel in Constantinople. She found out what the sentence on Zak was and where it was to be carried out. Zak was led from the jail to a public place where the amputation was to take place. Faj Mejid was the man who would carry out the sentence. As they entered the square, a veiled woman approached Mejid and bribed him not to cut off the boy’s hand. Mejid accepted the bribe and Zak breathed a huge sigh of relief. The woman had instructed Mejid to deliver the boy to an address she had handed him, before disappearing into the crowd.

Mejid led Zak to a table and laid his arm across it which was then strapped down. Zak hoped he was only going through the motions and would be releasing him soon. He was beginning to get worried when he saw him sharpening his sword. He made several theatrical swishes at Zak’s wrist, raising the crowd’s anticipation. This farce continued until the crowd was becoming restless. Then with a great flourish he brought the sword down hard, severing Zak’s hand from his arm. Zak looked in disbelief at his hand lying away from his body. He had felt no pain. Then he passed out.

There was a banging on the door of Madam Ziya’s brothel. When she opened the door, the unconscious body of the boy was lying on the step, blood oozing from a bandaged arm. The first few days were very worrying but because of his age, and the attention lavished on him by Madam Ziya, he recovered fairly quickly. Several months later Faj Mejid was found dead in his bed, his throat had been cut.

Zak was spoiled rotten by the prostitutes. His amazing good looks and dazzling smile coupled by their sympathy for his lost hand had made him their number one priority. Madam Ziya’s girls were a league of nations; Zak was adopted by all of them. He was taught manners, several languages, different tastes in food and an immaculate dress sense. Most importantly he was taught how to be a gentleman with impeccable table manners. A Japanese girl, a former Geisha, taught him a martial art called karate.

One day Captain Dec Greco arrived at the brothel. He was its most regular customer. He first used the establishment when Madam Ziya was a working participant now she owned and ran the place. However the Captain still preferred her to the younger girls so he was her only customer.

During the week with Madam Ziya, he noticed the boy hanging about the place and asked Madam Ziya the reason. The madam told him the story. Get him a hook. I have three of my crew who have hooks and they love them. explained the Captain. It was then that Madam Ziya realised that the lad could not stay with her forever. The answer lay with Captain Del Greco.

Why don’t you take the lad to sea? she asked.

Far too young.

What age were you when you first went to sea?

That’s different.

He’s a good lad, you would not regret it.

Very well, one trip, but if he doesn’t shape up he’s out.

Before Zak boarded the Sea Serpent he was fitted with a hook. He had never seen the sea let alone a ship so his first sight was total amazement.

The lad was born to be a sailor, taking to it like a duck to water. He very quickly became accustomed to his hook, discovering that he could use it as a tool. The other great advantage was that it delivered a knock out blow much harder than a fist. The Captain had the carpenter make him a wooden cutlass in order to practise his swordsmanship. At first the crew joined in the fun teaching the lad to fence but after a while they avoided him for fear of being badly bruised.

The time had come for him to learn seamanship and navigation. The Bosun took on the task of teaching him seamanship and the Captain navigation. He excelled at both.

The lessons stopped when a sail was spotted on the horizon. All sails were hoisted and the Sea Serpent set off in pursuit. The gap between the two ships closed rapidly. This puzzled the Captain because he knew that they must have seen his ship by now. Suspicious of a trap he looked through his telescope. The ship had fine lines and nothing gave him the impression that she was not a merchantman. All his available crew were crouched down ready to attack with grappling irons. The guns were not manned because he did not want to damage his prize.

The Bosun and Zak were standing beside the Captain. The Bosun was also studying the ship through a telescope, he had seen enough, satisfied he lowered his telescope.

Want a look see young Zak?

Eagerly Zak studied the prey, his sharp young eyes searching for all the signs he had been taught to look out for. He had a look for gun ports, there were none. He searched the rigging for snipers. The rigging held none. A niggling thought in his mind told him he had missed something. He started his search again. No gun ports. He was about to raise the telescope when he noticed the lines on the ship’s sides. He scanned the length of the ship counting the lines.

Captain!, he yelled. It’s got hidden gun ports.

Del Greco focussed onto the side of the ship, seeing for the first time the concealed gun ports. Another three minutes they would be alongside their quarry. Del Greco screamed at the top of his voice. Man the guns!

His confused crew did their best to run out cannons, only half of them being operable by the time their quarry opened fire with a broadside. The damage to the Sea Serpent was considerable while the damage to the other ship which had now raised the flag of the French navy was minimal. The prey had now become the predator. Del Greco was furious with himself for falling into the trap. He was fighting like a man demented. By now the two ships were tied firmly together and furious hand to hand fighting was taking place. The French broadside had taken its toll on the Sea Serpent’s crew. Large holes had been torn in the side of the Sea Serpent, sending wooden splinters flying like missiles into the bodies of the pirates.

Zak picked up a cutlass belonging to one of his crew mates who had been killed by a wedge shaped splinter that had gone through an eye socket and out the back of his head. He tried his best with the cutlass but was finding it a bit heavy compared to his wooden practice sword. At his first encounter with the enemy the sword was knocked from his grasp. He ducked swiftly as the Frenchman’s sword slicked over his head. The French Captain was directing his crew from the stern of his warship. Del Greco was leading a small band of his pirates towards him.

Zak had found a loaded pistol and was climbing the rigging of the French warship. The battle was going badly against Del Greco and his crew of cut-throats. But he had succeeded in breaking his way through to the French Captain and his officers and was engaging them in swordplay. Such was the fury of his attack that four French officers had been slashed to death. Sitting on a spar above the action Zak watched as Del Greco was having a duel with the French Captain. They were evenly matched. Neither man giving ground. His attention was drawn away from the duel when he saw the French first mate sneaking up behind Del Greco with a cudgel in his hand. Quickly he aimed the pistol and fired at the man. The shot completely missed him allowing him to throw the cudgel which hit Del Greco a glancing blow knocking him to the deck. The French Captain prepared to run Del Greco through when he was knocked senseless by Zaks Hook which was landed with some force when he swung down from the rigging. The mate seeing Del Greco was still dazed rushed forward, sword in hand. Zak dived at his midriff knocking him off balance. He quickly recovered and struck out again at Del Greco. This time Zak kicked him hard on the shin. Knocking him off his stride the sword strike missed Del Greco but caught Zak slitting his face open from the side of his eye to his chin. By this time three of the pirates had rushed to their Captain’s aid who was now back on his feet.

The French mate now well out numbered, ran to shelter and struck the colours. The French crew seeing their Captain down and the first mate surrendering threw down their arms. Del Greco ordered two of his crew to carry the unconscious Zak to the Captain’s cabin. He then called on the Bosun, who also acted as the Doctor, to stitch the boy’s face. The French Captain who had recovered was now on his feet. He offered his sword to Del Greco, who out of respect for the Captain, refused to accept it. The Captain grateful for the compliment offered the services of his surgeon to stitch the boy’s face. The offer was accepted. The French Captain looked round at his crew, then in a quiet voice asked Del Greco; Who struck the colours?

Your first mate.

Without another word he walked over to the first mate and ran him through with his sword then turned to two French sailors and ordered them to throw the coward overboard.

The two ships sailed into Gibraltar where Del Greco swapped the names of the two ships and kept the least damaged French one. The Bosun watched closely as the French surgeon stitched Zak’s face and grudgingly admitted to himself that he was doing a better job than he could have done. He looked at Zak who was obviously in pain sitting patiently in silence. His heart went out to the lad.

Delayed shock and a fever were now taking their toll on Zak who was perspiring and shivering at the same time. For the next week the Bosun fussed over him like a brooding hen. Again his physique and youth allowed him to make a full and speedy recovery.

Del Greco was sitting at the chart table working out where his next attack was going to take place, when the Bosun entered his cabin.

How’s the boy doing? he asked without looking up.

Fully recovered Captain. He’s a remarkable lad.

Fetch him here.

Aye, aye Sir.

Zak entered the cabin, his eyes taking as much in as his brain could cope with.

Sit down Lad ordered the Captain. What’s your full name Zak?

Zak Sir.

Zak what?

Don’t know Sir.

Well Zak, don’t know Sir. You are now Zak Del Greco, I am honoured to adopt you as my son, after all you saved my life.

Zak was relentless in his pursuit of perfection with sword and pistol. He practiced at every available opportunity. Over the next few years he took part in every raid the Pirates undertook. By the time he reached his seventeenth birthday his skills at fighting were legendary. He experimented with his hook, changing it for a dagger when going into combat. He had become so competent with his hook that he sometimes wondered if Faj Mejid had done him a favour amputating his hand.

The ship returned to Constantinople to allow the crew some leave and the Captain to unload his share of the booty.

Why don’t you take young Zak with you to Madam Ziya’s? the Bosun asked his Captain. After all, we don’t know if he’s a man or a faggot.

Good idea. Grinned Del Greco.

Madam Ziya was over the moon when Del Greco and Zak who she now regarded as her son arrived back. She stood back to admire the two men in her life. Zak was now taller than Del Greco, standing at six feet two inches. She admired his fine physique. He wore dark trousers and a fine white silk shirt which couldn’t hide his muscular body. His face was the most handsome she had ever seen. Suddenly he turned his head and she noticed the scar on his face. What happened to your face? she gasped.

Oh, just a little accident he replied smiling at her. His smile lost the scar and all she could see was the most handsome son any woman could have asked for. She also noticed for the first time that just in front of his right ear he had a small hardly noticeable birthmark which when you examined it closely it resembled the skull and cross bones of the pirate’s flag. Turning to Del Greco she said; Oh, we are putting on a bit of weight aren’t we? Then with a wicked smiled continued, I’ll soon get rid of that.

Despite his name Del Greco was an Englishman. Born to a middle class family in Portsmouth. His family had a close connection with the sea and it was a natural thing for him to join the Royal Navy. After a few years in the RN he became disillusioned with the service because of the length of time it took to achieve promotion. Backed by his family’s wealth and another investor he resigned his commission and purchased his own ship and embarked in a career as a privateer which to all ends and purposes was really piracy. He was not a blood thirsty man by nature and therefore did not torture or kill the captured crews. Instead he preferred to sell them into slavery. He did however like most RN officers tend to use the lash on his men a little too severely. In fairness it was only used as a last resort. One of his idiosyncrasies was his uniform which resembled that of a Captain in the RN with a few added touches of his own. A lot of money was spent on his uniforms but then he