The Thief of Kalimar; Captain Sinbad; Cinnabar

by Graham Diamond

  He had contracted with Jaffa merchants to carry a cargo of silks and spice to the isle of Crete, some eight hundred kilometers to the west. There, with any luck, he hoped to load another cargo to carry farther west, and thus to make his way to the Pillars of Hercules, where he hoped to find the elusive prize that might change his life. But at times he completely forgot the quest for the strange flower, thinking that once back upon the sea he would never return to Baghdad again. But fate was to intervene in all these matters, and when they were four days out of Jaffa, an entire new set of circumstances began to alter his life.

  The waters had been calm, the winds brisk. It had been a perfect voyage, and the isle of Crete grew closer by the hour. The Scheherazade had completed half her voyage and her crew, Sinbad included, were eagerly looking forward to port. But on the morn of the fifth day, the first mate, Abu, sighted another ship on the horizon, a cumbersome vessel that kept a constant distance behind. Ships passing upon their respective voyages were a common enough occurrence, but this one didn’t seem to go away. It was almost as if these strangers were following the Scheherazade — and Sinbad wanted to know why.

  He was standing in his familiar captain’s stance, his hands clenched behind his back, his face an expressionless mask, his body erect. He watched Abu keenly as the first mate squinted and put the spyglass to his eye. For a long moment the Persian fixed his gaze at the distant ship, finally frowning as he handed the glass to his captain.

  Sinbad didn’t take it. “Can you see her flags?” he asked.

  The burly, thick-necked first mate shook his head. These waters, it was well known, were infested with Barbary pirates who preyed like vultures on harmless and unsuspecting merchant vessels. Attack was a constant threat for every ship.

  “What do you make of her?” asked Sinbad at last.

  Abu scratched his graying whiskers and scowled, spitting across the rail before he answered. “Not pirates, Capt’n. She’s moving too slow, not gaining on us, not losing.”

  Sinbad balled his hands into fists and edgily stared out at the faraway ship. Crimson sails glinting fully unfurled in the sunlight, the ship maintained an identical course to that of the Scheherazade.

  “Slacken our sails, Abu,” the captain said at length.

  “Sir?” The first mate furrowed his bushy brow and looked for a moment to the equally perplexed Milo, who stood several paces behind at the railing.

  “It’s the only way we can get a better look at her,” Sinbad confided. “I want to know who she is.”

  Abu saluted smartly, ready to carry out the command. An experienced sailor like Sinbad was never to be questioned, no matter how unusual his request might seem.

  *

  Long hours passed tensely. It was nearly evening, but the cloudless sky still spread its relentless glare. The bow of the Scheherazade dipped and rose gracefully while the busy crew stood quietly at their posts, every man suddenly more aware than ever of the nearby ship. Sinbad’s ploy had worked well. Without realizing it, the other vessel had almost cut in half the distance between itself and the Scheherazade.

  With Don Giovanni perched on his shoulder and Milo and Mongo flanking him, Sinbad came again onto the bridge where a dour and somber Abu stood waiting. “I think you had better see this for yourself,” he said, giving over the glass.

  Sinbad shaded his vision from the sun and stared long and hard into the spyglass. The approaching ship was Arabic in design. Jason had no trouble in recognizing the familiar smoothed lines and sails of the craft. But she was no ordinary merchant ship. With her broad bulwalks and imposing bulk, she could only be a warship. But why would such a vessel be here, halfway to Crete?

  The answer was not long in coming. Sinbad lifted the glass higher, he could clearly see the banners she flew: the flags of Baghdad — each emblazoned with the caliph’s imperial crest.

  It’s not possible! Sinbad thought.

  Suddenly the warship’s signal flags had been raised, demanding that the Scheherazade furl sail and wait to be boarded. Abu and the others looked on astounded.

  “What do you think she’s after?” said Mongo, leaning hard against the railing, staring incredulously over the dark blue water as the larger ship, knowing it had been identified, no longer made any pretense of keeping at a distance.

  Sinbad had not lied to his friends or crew — he had honestly told them of the misadventures which had culminated in his forced departure from Baghdad as a fugitive. But he had never believed that the caliph would be so vengeful as to send a ship across the sea to capture him and haul him back for punishment.

  “I fear it can only be myself the galley is after,” he said at last in response to Mongo’s question. “Schahriar will not rest until he has me back.”

  Mongo shook a menacing fist at the ship. “And we should allow them to bring you back in chains? Never!” And Milo and Abu expressed their agreement.

  The galley slashed through the water with full sails swelling, pressing forward now at its best speed to reach the hapless merchant vessel. Despite Mongo’s bravery, Sinbad knew full well that his own crew would stand little chance in a fight against an enemy of such overwhelming force. There would be little choice — either give himself up or stand by and watch his friends be captured, and likely sent into slavery.

  “Are you certain it’s you this galley seeks?” said Milo with hope in his voice. “Perhaps you’re wrong. Perhaps they want to stop us for another reason.”

  Sinbad laughed a bitter laugh. Shaking his head, he said: “No, this is the caliph’s doing. I’m certain of it.” He raised the glass again to his eye and this time focused on the small gathering of robed men standing together upon the galley’s bridge. His gaze swept among them and he gasped. Standing apart and aloof from the rest was Dormo. The old Greek seemed weary as his bony hands grasped at the rail and he peered blankly out toward the Scheherazade. If there had been any lingering doubts in Sinbad’s mind as to the purpose of this ship’s presence, they were gone now. His old friend and future father-in-law had clearly been commanded by the caliph to personally bring him back for justice. Sinbad gritted his teeth angrily. Most likely the vindictive Schahriar now kept Sherry as hostage to insure Dormo’s loyalty.

  The lookout called from the crow’s nest above. “She’s signaling us again, Capt’n! Ordering us to come alongside — ”

  “In a pig’s eye!” rattled Abu. “Full sails!” he barked to the crew before Sinbad could stop him. “We may not be able to fight her, but she’ll have to catch us if she wants our captain!”

  Shirtless and sweaty, the crew raced across the deck, grappling the halliards and tackling the yards. Moments later the sails whooshed! with a full wind; the Scheherazade slipped into a new tack and began to outrun the cumbersome galley.

  “I appreciate what you want to do,” said Sinbad to his companions, “but you know what will happen if we’re caught … ”

  Abu laughed grandly. “Caught?” He screwed his eyes and glared at the captain. “Is this the same Sinbad who led me halfway around the world?” And he spit into the wind. “We signed on together and we’ll stand together!”

  The crew cheered in response, and Sinbad, having little time to thank them, spun to the helmsman and issued new orders. They were going to outrun the galley if it took a week.

  A magnificent sun splaying scarlet rays dipped gently in the west as a velvet-black night inched up against the sky from the east. Spray foamed across the deck as the Scheherazade cut through the waves and hastened in the direction of waning daylight. The air crackled with excitement. Sinbad worked beside his adventurous crew, sharing in the labors, exulting in the feel of salt and wind against his flesh.

  The galley also drew every stitch and its signal flags continued to call for the smaller ship to stop. Slowly, as the sun all but slid from sight, the pursuing galley was lost in the shadows of night. Sinbad turned to Abu and both men grinned. For the caliph’s men night was a bane, a hindrance in the already difficult task of catching
a smaller and fitter vessel. But for Sinbad it was a blessing. Under the blanket of darkness, he hoped to elude the galley once and for all, changing his course where necessary and losing the Baghdad ship in the vastness of open sea.

  A plethora of stars shone across the heavens. Following the guidance of the Big Dipper, the Scheherazade slipped away. The galley could still be seen giving chase, but at each bell’s sounding she was farther away than the hour before.

  “With luck, well lose her by dawn,” a buoyant Abu said to the captain. And Sinbad grinned. Going below to his cramped quarters, he said: “Rest the men in shifts and wake me if there’s any change.”

  He slept restlessly, as he often had these past weeks. When Abu’s strong knock on the door woke him, he jumped up with a start, the images of an ill-remembered nightmare shattering like broken glass. Sinbad pushed back his hair and wiped the sleep from his eyes. It was still dark. He glanced from the porthole and observed the faint glimmer of approaching dawn fanning in an arc across the east. The sun would be rising soon.

  “Excuse me, Capt’n,” said Abu as he opened the unlocked door and stepped inside. “You said I should wake you if — ”

  Sinbad stifled a yawn and slipped off the bed. “What is it? Has anything happened?”

  The first mate frowned in the shadows. “About the galley, Capt’n … ”

  “Is she closing in?”

  “No, Capt’n. But she’s … perhaps you should come and see for yourself.”

  By the time Sinbad reached the bridge, the sky had grown a shade brighter. All of his crew were already awake, all of them standing silent and grim as they stared out over the starboard side. The galley was stationary, besieged on all sides by a handful of smaller ships. Fire arrows were racing across the sky, one sail was ablaze, great tongues of flame licking at the clouds while billows of thick smoke rose above them.

  Sinbad’s eyes widened in shock.

  “Barbary pirates,” said Milo, drawing to the captain’s side. “Look closely, you can see them converge. They’ve got the galley pinned.”

  “They must have been trailing the galley in the same way she followed us,” added Abu. “They waited until the hours before dawn and struck. The galley hasn’t got a chance.” And, as if to add credence to his words, the second mast burst into flame, wind fanning the fire virtually out of control.

  Sinbad turned away from the terrible sight. True, he had sought to evade the galley and would have fought her himself if he had to, but that was different. To stand by and watch her being cut down like this, plundered and burned by scavengers who cared little for the value of human life, was more than he could bear. He thought of Dormo and wondered if at this very moment the aging Greek were lying dead with an arrow plunged in his breast, or worse, being dragged in chains to the hold of the pirate ship.

  Poor Dormo! The vizier was not his enemy, nor were the other sailors aboard the galley, who were only doing their duty to the caliph. All were seamen, like Sinbad, and brothers as well, be they men of Baghdad or not — and for that reason every man on the Scheherazade looked on with pity and grief while their recent adversaries valiantly fought off the grim freebooters who attacked them.

  “We must come to their rescue,” said Sinbad, setting his jaw in determination.

  Milo stayed his arm before he could give the signal. “What good can we be?” he said sadly. “By the time we reached the ship there’d be little left besides ashes and corpses.”

  “Aye,” chimed a disconsolate Mongo. The giant stared glumly at the pitched fight across the water and sighed. “Once they’ve dispatched the galley, the pirates will turn on us. And what chance do we have against those ships when even the galley fell?”

  “But the galley was caught by surprise,” protested Sinbad. “Maybe we can — ”

  “Ship ahead, sir!” cried the lookout, taking Sinbad by surprise.

  “Where away, mister?” he called.

  “Five points off the port bow!”

  The Scheherazade’s captain dashed to the rail, Abu at his heels. Beneath the brilliant morning sunlight they indeed did see another ship approaching, from south this time. She was a single-masted ship, a cog from first appearance, sweeping down upon them at a fierce clip. Sinbad glanced to Abu in trepidation. The first mate lifted the spyglass and peered. “She flies a black flag, Capt’n … ”

  No more needed to be said. The Scheherazade itself was being chased by Barbary pirates.

  “By Allah, where did they come from?” cried Milo.

  “Who knows? These waters are dotted with tiny islands — each a perfect haven for cutthroats.”

  “Then they’re not the same pirates who attacked the galley?” asked an astounded Milo.

  Sinbad shook his head. “Those ships came from the opposite direction. Besides, if they were part of the other group, they’d still be too preoccupied pillaging and gathering their spoils.” He spun around and faced his officers sharply. “But I do know this: If we don’t act fast, we’ll surely share the same fate.”

  “Sound battle stations!” shouted Abu. “Break open the stores!”

  The full compliment of twenty-three acted swiftly, without panic. There was nary a man among them who had not faced freebooters upon the high seas before, and none were afraid to fight. As the Scheherazade’s sails slacked and spilled some of their wind, bows were drawn, swords unsheathed, and knives glinted in the sunlight. Meanwhile, the crimson sails of the enemy were drawing steadily closer.

  The pirates were well in sight. Sinbad watched tensely as the enemy crew took up strong positions along the starboard side. The corsairs, aiming snub-nosed arrows, formed a double line of archers while others among them lit torches from strategically placed canisters of burning oil. Helmeted and breastplated, they brandished curved scimitars above their heads, whooping war cries and preparing to toss their grappling hooks.

  Sinbad stared at a fiery figure upon the enemy bridge — the pirate captain, he was certain. Tall, lean, with flowing red hair and a trimmed crimson cloak. Sinbad winced. The captain had curved hips, and beneath the armor, firm and supple breasts …

  “By the Prophet!” he thundered. “Their captain is a woman!”

  Hurtling darts cracked against timber on all sides. Sinbad and his men ducked from the barrage. “Look again, Captain!” rejoined an equally stunned Milo as he raised his head and peeked over the railing, his keen eyes not missing a single trick. “They’re all women!”

  As arrows and spears flew, the crew of the Scheherazade looked on in wonder, hardly believing their own eyes as they watched the Amazon women boldly preparing to board.

  “Are we to fight these women?” called Mongo, unafraid to crack as many heads as need be but quite disturbed over splitting female Skulls.

  More arrows came whistling. “We’d damn well better!” called back Abu. He wielded a knife in one hand and a club in the other, ready to match the attackers blow for blow. “Unless you’ve a taste for a slave’s chains!”

  The hostile ship had slackened its huge sail and drawn in its oars. Its side grated against the Scheherazade and the pirate girls whooped and hollered. A dozen grappling hooks of steel were thrown and secured, and then the melee began.

  The brave crew of Sinbad’s ship fought desperately to free the firmly placed hooks and chains, but already they were beginning to fall under the onslaught of javelins and flying pins. Oil-soaked arrows sputtered into pine and tiny fires sparked across the main deck. Sinbad leaped from the bridge, Mongo and Milo at his side, and the three men stood steadfast while the first wave of screaming freebooters clambered onto the Scheherazade.

  Steel-pointed missiles slammed into the bulwark, and smoke rose sickeningly all around. And on came the Barbary pirates, tall, powerful women, knives clenched between their teeth, long sabers in their hands.

  Lips drawn back from his teeth in anger, Sinbad blocked the main thrust of the assault. Without a thought he drew his knife and swiped with his sword. Steel clanged against steel
; a pirate lunged and parried, matching Sinbad thrust for thrust. Amid the tumult from behind, Sinbad caught a fleeting glimpse of Mongo lifting a pirate off her feet and hurling her into a group of charging companions. Caught off guard, the women fell back, cracking the rail and falling into the water with foul oaths upon their lips.

  Suddenly Mongo was being attacked from the side. Both Sinbad and Milo valiantly tried to reach him, but to no avail. The mobs of rampaging women pushed both sailors back, cornering them beside the steps to the bridge. In a split second’s time Mongo was down, struck by a pin on the back of his head. The giant groaned and fell back. He dizzily reached out to choke his closest adversary, then crumpled to his knees. A great cheer went up from the women.

  All along the deck the outnumbered men of the Scheherazade were one by one being disarmed and pushed to the floor, tips of swords at their throats. The jubilation of the pirates increased, and raucous laughter filled Sinbad’s ears. Then came a deafening roar, and even as he fought off the Amazon pressing him, Sinbad saw the red-haired captain of the pirate vessel sweep on a rope from her own ship onto the Scheherazade.

  The fiery beauty discarded her helmet and eagerly joined the fray. Her long hair tossed in the wind as she single-handedly wounded two of Sinbad’s best men, then laughed at the sight of them at her feet.

  “Don’t harm them!” Sinbad heard her bark to her subordinates. “I want these men alive — all of them!”

  To make slaves of us? thought an anguished Sinbad. And with renewed strength he fended off the brutish Amazon before him, grabbed hold of a line, and adroitly swung himself toward the scarlet pirate.

  The captain of the women grinned. “He’s mine!” she warned her companions, who had sought to block Sinbad from reaching her.