Downhill sails clapped in the cold wind that drove white lambs of waves across the sea. The low gray clouds quickly sailed from north to south, crowding the horizon.
The two ships, almost touching the boards, froze in front of each other, the teams lined up on deck, but despite the foresight of hanging gray flags, all at any moment were ready to engage in battle.
The gangways were thrown from one side to the other, hitting with an irritatingly loud knock.
- The ransom procedure is now open," Berthaud Salina solemnly announced. His resounding voice did not sink in the noise of the waves, and immediately the same words, but already at the Dirksen repeated Adjutant Bermesser.
Almeida came closer to the board, lazily glancing down the colorless faces of his enemies. Beautifully lined up, now would be a buckshot... But no, he has stronger weapons.
In the dim light of the day, the golden embroidery of the epaulet shone: Bermesser even risked approaching the board itself.
- Mr. First Admiral Taiga," he said indifferently, "your demand was met: Caesarea Driksen pays a thousand dollars in gold.
Almeida nodded, barely containing a smile. His calculation was correct.
- For my part, I confirm these guarantees earlier," he replied. Berthaud sniffed quietly behind his back.
Bresser's adjutant separated himself from the crowd and walked along the gangway, carrying even a heavy bag in front of him. Almeida looked at the boy with respect: his face did not reflect any fear or anxiety, although he left the ship and went to the den of the bloodthirsty southerners. The Drixes were watching him with tension, Bermesser himself was pulling the thread out of the lace scarf, and Almeida felt something like pleasure.
The adjutant handed over a bag of Berthaud, who, with a smile, estimated his weight, and stretched out a string in front of Almeida, saluting him.
- A thousand led, First Admiral," he said, looking with faint eyes over Almeida's shoulder somewhere. - Don't bother to count.
- Thank you," nodded Almeida. - You're free to go back.
The boy turned around in high heels and walked back a lot faster than he had done before.
- The second part of the contract," Almeida said lazily.
The Drinks humbly parted, letting the two who carried the bigger bag forward. Just like the adjutant, they went through the gangways. The bag lay on the deck at Almeida's feet. He nodded, and Berthaud leaned over, taking out the dagger. Crazy black eyes sparkled out of the slot in the bag. Almeida looked up, but the drives were no longer there.
- Are you satisfied? - Bresser asked nervously.
Almeida paused.
- It's okay, Mr. Vice Admiral," he finally admitted.
- In that case, goodbye," he answered.
- See you later... - Almeida responded thoughtfully, watching as Berthaud released from the bag of Rotger, tightly bound and something mooing through a dense gag.
- And how much did they pay you to take me back? - Valdes asked when he was able to do so.
Almeida looked back at the ceiling of the cabin. The boy was an orphan he had taken into his care but still had to be stricter with him sometimes. Eleven years old is not the age at which you can easily get to the "Faithful Star" and tell "dear Uncle Werner" that he sails to Dirksen.
- A thousand were leading," he replied briefly. Roger's eyes glistened:
- Shall we recalculate? - He suggested it.
- You better tell me what you've done with a thousand things," Almeida asked.
- I set fire to the stake, got out of the stocks, yelled from the mast of the song...
- Indecent? - Almeida was hopelessly interested.
- Decent! - Rotger was outraged, waving his touchy hands. - True, for some reason, the Dixie began to shoot at me but never hit me. And the girls, of course, also tried to later... - His look became dreamy. - Oh, as Mr. Vice Admiral yelled in the middle of the night... I was hoping he'd turn grey, but he didn't go gray!
Almeida sighed: he himself almost believed that the "girls" were not Rotger's fiction, which he was trying to comfort after the death of his parents.
- Deceived! - Berthaud was outraged at the other end of the table, finishing with a ring of gold. - One coin is missing.
Looking at Rotger, who had made such a move as if he was slipping his tongue behind his cheek, Almeida said nothing.
- Or may I... - Rotger started, tired of spinning on a chair.
- No!" Almeida barked.
Roger's gaze was so innocent and pleading that the heart of First Admiral almost shuddered.
- Don't you think I'll be able to mock them for two thousand? - Roger woke up as if he had felt it. - But what use to the crown!
- Berthaud! - Almeida growled. - Take him away, or I'll catch up with Werner now and give him all the money back!