02 The King's Road by Cecelia Holland

Author:Cecelia Holland [Holland, Cecelia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2015-07-12T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

“THERE’S CEFALU,” Hadji-Mustafa said. “Do you want to go ashore now, with me, or after we eat tonight?”

“Now,” Yusuf said. “Please, Little Red, can we?”

Federigo nodded. “We have to find a way to go back home. We can’t do that in the dark.” He stared at the shore. The bare brown-green coastline turned to white sand at the sea’s edge, then to white foam, and darkened gradually to a bright, clear blue. Fishing boats painted red and yellow sailed and rowed about the harbor. Palm trees sprouted above the beach, beneath the tremendous cliff, and right below the rock he could see the double spires of the Cathedral one of his ancestors had built. The rock was shaped roughly like a head, which was probably why the town was called Cefalu. He wished he knew what he was going to do when he got on the beach.

“Red,” Durante said, “I’m not going.”

Federigo swung around. “What do you mean?”

Durante was fairly dancing with happiness. “I’m staying with the pirates.”

“Oh.” Suddenly Federigo had a lump in his throat. He couldn’t imagine not being able to find Durante whenever he wanted someone to play with. But he understood why Durante wanted to stay on the ship. He remembered how eagerly Durante had asked Hadji-Mustafa questions about sailing, that night on the deck under the stars. He flung his arms around Durante and hugged him.

“Have a good time. Come see us when you put into Palermo.”

“I will.” Durante hugged him back. “Don’t get killed. And learn how to fight.”

“I will.”

“And tell my father that I’m all right and happy, and that I’ve gone to sea.” Durante glanced at Hadji-Mustafa, who was waiting impassively, the boat’s cable in his hand. “Don’t tell him that I’ve gone with the pirates, though.”

“All right.” Federigo watched Hadji-Mustafa grin sarcastically. Yusuf climbed over the rail and, clutching the rope, let himself down gently into the boat — as Abdul had said, he wasn’t a sailor. Federigo took hold of the rope in both hands. He’d seen the sailors do this, and he wanted to try it. With one leg wrapped around the rope to keep him from going too fast, he slid down with a whoosh and a thump into the boat. Yusuf in the stern of the boat was laughing.

“I can hardly wait to step on the ground again. I’m so sick of ships I could die.” He bounced up and down.

Hadji-Mustafa landed beside him and cast off. “Federigo, fend us off.”

Standing awkwardly on the gunwale, Federigo pushed them away from the ship. High above them, Durante was calling good-by.

“I like to sail,” Federigo said. “Someday—”

Abruptly he realized that he was falling. He wobbled, flailing with his arms to get his balance again, but the boat seemed to drift quietly out from under him. He yelled. Beneath him was nothing but scummy water — he took a deep breath and shut his eyes and fell in. Warm as milk, the water closed over his head. He thrashed his way to the surface and looked around, flipping his hair out of his eyes.

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