The Pirates of the Levant by Arturo Pérez-Reverte Page B

trick, eh, Diego? You want your pay? Well, see that castle full of Dutchmen over there? Go and attack it and then we'll pay you. Moors or heretics, it's all the same to the King.'
'Do they take the royal quint from you here as well?' I asked.
'Of course,' said Copons. There was the King's quint, and the governor's 'jewel', as it was known. The latter got the pick of the bunch: the best slaves, even a village chief's entire family. Then it was the turn of the officers, with the normal soldiers last in line, according to how much they earned. Even people who hadn't gone on the cavalcade had a right to a share. Not forgetting the Church.
'You mean the monks dip their fingers in too?'
'You bet they do, to supplement their alms. The cavalcades benefit everyone, including the tradesmen and merchants, because later the Arabs come into town to buy back their loved ones, with money or produce, and the whole city becomes one great bazaar.'
We stopped beside a lean-to made of planks and roofed with palm leaves. At night it provided shelter for the guards at the bridge that connected the town and the fields with the castle of Rozalcazar on the other side of the Ouahran River, and with the castle of San Felipe further inland. The former, Copons told us, had almost completely collapsed and the latter had not yet been fully fortified. For although Oran was famous for its fortresses, it was all show, the town itself having only an old wall with hardly any moat to speak of, no ditches, no stockade, no covered entrance, no parapets and no redoubts. Indeed the town's only real fortifications were the living, breathing bodies of those who had to protect it. As some poet or other had said: our only gunpowder our swords, and our only walls the balls of Spain.
'Could we go?' I asked.
Copons glanced at me, then at Captain Alatriste, before looking back at me. 'And where exactly do you want to go he asked with an indifferent air. I adopted a bold, soldierly demeanour and held his gaze without a flicker.
'Where else?' I replied coolly. 'With you, on the cavalcade.
The two veterans again exchanged glances, and Coponrubbed his chin. 'What do you think, Diego?'
My former master studied me thoughtfully, then shrugged. 'A bit of extra money always comes in handy, I suppose.'
Copons agreed. The problem, he said, was that the whole garrison usually wanted to take part in these outings, in order to get a bigger share of the profits.
'Although sometimes,' he added, 'when there are galley crews in town, they do take reinforcements. In fact, you may be in luck, because there's a lot of fever about at the moment brought on by drinking bad water, because there's no shortage of water here, but it's brackish — and a number of people either ill or in hospital. I'll speak to Sergeant Major Biscarrues. He's a Flanders veteran, too, and a countryman of mine. Bu don't say a word. Not a word to anyone.'
He wasn't addressing the Captain when he said this. I returned his gaze — knowingly at first, then reproachfully. Copons stood thinking for a while, then turned to Captain Alatriste.
'The little lad's grown up,' he murmured, 'damn him.'
He looked me up and down, and his eyes lingered on my thumbs looped through my belt, next to my dagger and sword.
I heard the Captain sigh. He did so with a touch of irony, I think, and perhaps some weariness too.
'You don't know the half of it, Sebastian.'

Chapter 3. THE CAVALCADE TO UAD BERRUCH

In the distance, a dog howled. Lying face down among the undergrowth, Diego Alatriste jerked awake. He had been resting his head on his arms, but with the instinct of an old soldier, he suddenly opened his eyes and looked up. He had not slept for long, only a matter of moments, but, like any experienced soldier, he took advantage of every opportunity to rest. In his line of work, you never knew when you might have another chance to sleep or eat or drink. Or empty your bladder. All around him, the slope was dotted with silent, motionless