"And I am from Genoa."
The man from behind looked at Antonius with an evil pair of eyes like that of a cobra that is ready to strike, he has a rugged face and a brawny body shape from years of service and hard labour.
"Why? Can I help you, my friend?"
The seaman made a bizarre sound and spitted on the boots of Antonius. "We don't fancy a Genoese in a Venetian tavern." He replied with a tone of despise. "I guess that I shall raid and sink another of your kind's ship to teach your lads a lesson."
"Well I guess you are that kind of people that is called the pride of Venice, a barbarian with a typical sour smell of alcohol accompanied with a strange body ordour and lice all over you isn't it?"
The surrounding non-Venetian sailors burst into laughter upon hearing this, leaving the pisspot humiliated and red-faced, but soon that embarrassment turned into towering rage.
"Oi, you little blabbermouth." The drunkard leaned forward, saliva glitters on his dry curled lips. "You are into the pirate trade aren't ya. You and your mates are the ones who plundered that Ottoman ship couple of days back."
Antonius became silent, he looked into the eyes of the drunkard harshly. He neither want any trouble around this place nor does he want to get the reputation of being a pirate in a Venetian port.
"It was indeed you am I right?" The drunkard continued to lean forward, reaching a distance dangerously close to Antonius. "The one they call the plunderer of Aegean…" His voice has begun to increase, and a few sailors already got their attention in this direction.
"Aye it is you! Isn't it! Comon admit it!"
Without hesitation, Antonius grabbed his neck and rammed him into the table, breaking a few jars of beer and the table itself in the process.
"Watch what you are saying, twit, go back and sink with your drink before I smack your skull open!"
The drunkard continued staring at Antonius with a threatening look, remained completely quiet for a moment, and then started chuckling with a baleful sound that gave Antonius quite a cold sweat.
Instead of walking away, he slowly rose again holding the grip of a chair. "Name's Antonius, am I right?" He squinted and asked, almost yelling. "AM I RIGHT! ANTONIUS!"
Antonius knew that he just got himself into another trouble in a foreign area, without hesitation he smacked the drunkard in the ear trying to silence this blabbermouth jack-tar at once forever, the man collapsed and is no longer able to utter a single sound.
"You imbecile bastard!"
Just as all of this happens, another brawny sailor from behind leapt forward and toppled Antonius to the rough, muddy floor of the tavern. It was indeed a hit that fresh blood started to drip out of his nose.
"You shall pay for what you have done to Carlo! Genoese! Onto him boys!"
Three other sailors encircled Antonius and got into their combat posture. Antonius, knowing that he cannot probably escape this time, glanced at the other three men and decided to take the preemptive strike to earn a chance of breaking this encirclement.
He pulled out his dagger hidden on his belt within the blink of eyes and shot into the thigh of a sailor. While he kneels and whims in agony, Antonius gave him a side kick and sent his leg whipping at the side of his brain.
Another two men rushed towards Antonius waving their club-sized fist, but Antonius, with his sharp sense of danger developed from his profession, gripped the hand of a sailor just as he as about to punch and pulled him towards another sailor with an irresistible force, making the two sailors collide together and got knocked down to the ground, flattening another ill-quality stool in the way.
The last sailor, seeing what has happened to all his peers, paced backwards. Just as Antonius thought that he is going to back off, he pulled out a cutlass out of nowhere and charged towards Antonius.
In this life and death situation, Antonius dodged just in time as the blade, glittering and shining under the light, rushes through. Just as the sailor is about to pull back and make another strike, Antonius grabbed hold of his elbow and wrist. With an overpowering force of strength, he forced the blade back to its master, right through the puny sailor's scruffy neck, blood began spilling out like a fountain and surged all over the floor and the face of Antonius.
"Riposa in pace, mate, next time remember that a blade has no eyes."
Instantaneously, Antonius made a rush for the entrance of the tavern straightaway before any more cut throats get to him. Just as he leaves, cries and shriek of lass with the furious howling of men can be heard behind.
Antonius wiped his face with his cloak and immediately dumped his blood and mud-soaked coat into the sea. He then ran back to his ship, Formidata, while making sure that no one behind is following him.
Back in the ship's captain quarters, Antonius washed the blood stains and changed into a new set of clothes, while asking his chief officer. "What did your do with those cargo of herbs and plants today, Abraham?"
"We sold them sir, made a profit out of this. These herbs caught the eyes of some Ottomans and they've bought all of them at a hefty price."
"All of them?"
"Yes, sir, it looks like they are the same batch of people that we 'took' the herbs from."
"Hahahaha I see, good work my brother, now bring me that Ottomans captain we captured that day, I have some other use for him."
"Yes, sir."
"Wait, prepare something else, we need to prepare a welcome ceremony for our honourable guest."
****
The trip to Krete for Abdullah since he was taken captive haven't been a pleasant trip, he is ripped of his statues, wealth, duty and honour, dragged into the lowest deck of a Galley by some stinky bloody cut-throat pirate.
Poor Abdullah's legs are gripped tightly by some huge iron chains with a tight as hell shackles on the hands attached to the chains. He has achieved the goal of losing weight not by dieting and exercising but by suffering on a pirate ship as a captive.
"At least there is still something to be happy of." He tried to comfort himself and be more enthusiastic in a hopeless situation like this, being optimistic in all situations is his motto of life.
What makes the situation worse is that the cabin is filled with the thick smell of herbal medicines and powders, together with the dump environment, little creatures crawling around on the deck and the fungus growing in the moist, it just don't make the surrounding look like a human inhabitable area.
The same usual cabin boy came back, dropped a wooden bowl filled with some semi-liquid, semi-solid substance that looks like some oat meal and cereal porridge in front of him, producing a loud bang on the deck which scared away the little creatures around.
This meal looks rough but it is still considerably better than 'naval beef' that is like a big lump of darkened rock, and the bread that requires a saw to saw into slices and soak it in water for hour before it is edible.
"Eat it first, the captain is expecting you after this."
Abdullah nodded hastily and then gobbled down the food, but immediately he realised there is something wrong with it.
"Excuse me sir, may I know why this 'porridge' has a…weird taste?"
"You dare to whine of the food? How about ya have a taste of my sea-ridden leather boots instead?"
Abdullah dared not utter a word and quickly finished up his food, before the cabin boy freed his lock and he finally had a chance to move his sore arms and legs for the first time in days.
Upon reaching the upper deck, to his surprise when he climbs out of the cabin and re-sees the sunlight, he hears people singing a tune that sounds very familiar to him. It is a traditional türkü folk song, but … what makes it bizarre is that is usually played when there is a funeral.
Just as he is about to greet Antonius, he went freezing and is not able to move, eyes and pupil got wider, and his jaws dropped open. He stared at this wooden plate which resembles a tombstone sticking on the dinner table with a white cloth. What makes it even more bizarre and shocking for Abdullah, is that on the 'tombstone', it says.
"R.I.P our friend, Abdullah Miralai."
Surrounding it is a bunch of cut-throats with their captain, singing the familiar but appalling Ottoman folk song, there is even a boy weeping as-if someone has really died.
Abdullah gulped, stepped forward and asked. "My friend, this is only a…prank, right? Tell me it is a prank!"
The crew stopped singing, moved their eyes to Abdullah and stared at him blankly, he just feels like this kind of stare is the most frightening and riveting thing ever since he boards the ship.
"No, Abdullah, it will be a fact by tomorrow."
This sent Abdullah spinning and wiring in his head, he feels so blank as-if the sky has fallen down on him.
"I have added some…poison in your food just now, so poisonous that it is said that Lucifer himself created this poison."
Antonius explained slowly, looking serious with a stern face.
"But…but…why…I…I don't want to…."
"BUT~"
"…but?"
"I have the cure to this poison, but I can only give it to you after you gimme something in return this evening, my friend."
"Ah comon, Şeytan, what do you want from me this time!"
"Come here, my friend, I shall tell you what I need from ya."
Antonius leered at Abdullah with that signature smirk back on his face. Sitting up high above a 'tombstone' and with a circle of candles around him, together with the dim light in the surrounding as the sun sets, Antonius now looks like Şeytan himself in the eyes of the poor Abdullah.
"Come here, don't give me that look, its just a simple request~"