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Anketam called after him. "Tell Jacovik first! And get more runners to spread the word!" And then Anketam headed for his own home. Memi had to be told. On the way, he pounded on the doors of the houses, shouting the news and telling the others to get to the Big Swamp. By the time the Invader troops came, they found the entire Samas barony empty.
But war? Why? "How'd it happen?" he asked. Russat sipped at his hot drink before answering. Behind him, Memi moved slowly around the cooker, pretending to be finishing the meal, pretending not to be listening. "Well, I don't have all the information," Russat said, pinching his little short beard between thumb and forefinger. "But I do know that the Chiefs didn't want the embassy in Chromdin."
If he can't have the prettiest, he'll have to be satisfied with someone else." He chuckled. "That's why I picked Memi. She's not beautiful and never was, but she's a wonderful wife." "That's so," said Blejjo. "A wise man is one who only wants what he knows he can have. Right now" he took off his hat and wiped his bald head "all I want is a dip in that river." "Swim first and then fish?"
"I don't see how they have any right to tell us how to live or how to run our own homes. They ought to mind their own business and leave us alone." "You two finish those drinks," said Memi, "and quit talking about wars. The food will be ready pretty quickly." "Good," said Anketam. "I'm starved." And, he admitted to himself, the brandy and hot tea had gone to his head.
Simon Danser, the Flemish rover, taught the Algerines the fashion of "round ships," in 1606, and an Englishman seems to have rendered the same kind office to the people of Tunis, aided by a Greek renegade, Memi Reïs; where, moreover, another English pirate, "Captain Wer," was found in congenial company at the Goletta by Monsieur de Brèves, the French ambassador.
There was a moment's hesitation, then a minute or two of handshaking and backslapping as the two brothers both tried to speak at the same time. Anketam heard himself repeating: "Yessir! By heaven, it's good to see you! Real good!" And Russat was saying: "Same here, Ank! And, gee, you're looking great. I mean, real great! Tough as ever, eh, Ank?" "Yeah, sure, tough as ever. Sit down, boy. Memi!
In 1575, Cervantes was returning from Naples after serving for six years in the regiment of Figueroa, and losing the use of his left arm at Lepanto to revisit his own country; when his ship El Sol was attacked by several Corsair galleys commanded by Arnaut Memi; and, after a desperate resistance, in which Cervantes took a prominent part, was forced to strike her colours.
Then he set the bottle down carefully on the table. "You're the guest, Russ, so you can pour. That tea ready yet, Memi?" "Coming right up," said his wife gratefully. "Coming right up." Anketam watched Russat carefully pour brandy into the cups of hot, spicy tea that Memi set before them. Then he looked up, grinned at his wife, and said: "Pour yourself a cup, honey. This is an occasion.
Anketam stood at the door of the rude hut, looking blindly at the ruins of the village a hundred yards away. In the past few months, weeds had grown up around the charred blobs that had once been the homes of Anketam's crew. Anketam stared, not at, but past and through them, seeing the ghosts of the houses that had once been there. Behind him, Memi was speaking in soft tones to Lady Samas.
The day that the war intruded on Anketam's consciousness again had started off just like any other day. Anketam got his fishing gear together, including a lunch that Memi had packed for him, and gone over to pick up Blejjo. Blejjo was the oldest man in the village. Some said he was over a hundred, but Blejjo himself only admitted to eighty.
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