“What’s going on here?” came a booming voice of authority.
A roomful of shouts and near-melee returned to silence as Melissa, Scarlet Pirate of the Mediterranean, strode into the hold, her icy glare shooting from face to face. The sailors of the Scheherazade stood meekly in their places, casting their gazes away.
Melissa’s lieutenant sighed with relief. “These dogs tried to riot,” she panted, looking furtively at her commander.
Melissa frowned. “I thought I ordered you not to harm any of them … ”
“I was only doing my duty, Captain. This one’s been causing us difficulties.”
“Men in chains give you problems, Felicia?” asked the pirate leader with a sneer. Then she turned sharply to Sinbad, glaring at the mariner held firmly in check by her two goons. “I thought we made a bargain, you and I?”
Sinbad lifted his head and brusquely pushed off the hands constraining him. “The bargain was to treat us as men, not animals — pigs in a pen receive better treatment than this.” And in protest and agreement his crew rattled their chains and growled.
“Why you scum,” bristled Felicia. She made to strike the mariner with an open hand, but Melissa stayed her arm. “I can take care of this,” she said.
The younger woman objected hotly. “But Captain! This man has openly defied you! Scorned you, tried to make fools of us all. Give him to me. I’ll see to it he begs for mercy, crawls on his knees to you for this outrage … ”
Melissa’s eyes flashed. “I said that I’d handle the matter, Lieutenant. You may leave — is that understood?” The harshness of her command left little room for her subordinate to argue.
“Aye, aye, Captain.” Felicia saluted smartly, spun on her toes, and walked briskly from the hold.
Melissa waited until her footsteps could be heard upon the hatchway steps and then confronted Sinbad with her hands on her hips and a smoldering in her eyes. “I’ll have no more of these little games, Captain Sinbad,” she warned roughly. “Remember, your life is still in my hands. This time I’ll let your exercise in futility pass — but not again.” Then she snapped her fingers, ordering her loathsome guards to release their hold. Sinbad got up slowly, rubbing at his bruised arms. He ignored the half-grins of Melissa’s goons. The fiery pirate folded her arms and smiled.
“They’re eunuchs,” she told him proudly. “Runaways from the court of Persia. Not much use in anyone’s bed — but fiercely loyal and trustworthy to me. At a clap of my hands they would obey any command I give them. Any command.” Her smile became sardonic. “I’m sure they would be eager to turn you into one of them … “
Sinbad frowned distastefully, thinking the life of a eunuch not one to be admired.
“Now then,” Melissa went on. “I trust there won’t be any more trouble from you?”
Sinbad glanced at the hulking eunuchs, both still grinning stupidly at the possibility of performing a quick castration upon the Scheherazade’s famed captain.
“Your bowl is yet untouched, Captain Sinbad,” Melissa said as she focused on his supper. “Eat it.”
Forced to swallow his pride, Sinbad sat crosslegged and picked up the bowl. Melissa laughed grandly; for the second time she had matched wits with her famous prisoner, and for the second time humbled him. As the eunuchs followed her out and locked the door, Sinbad spit the food out of his mouth and hurled his bowl against the wall. There and then, while his crew sullenly returned to their places, he vowed that the next match of wits between himself and Melissa would end with the Scarlet Pirate in humiliation. But for now he could do nothing — nothing except wait until the voyage was done and the island of Phalus safely reached.
*
Time dragged ever so slowly, the pirate ship sailing in the lead and the commandeered Scheherazade in tow behind it. As the sun set, the sky’s crimson glow seeped through cracks in the aging boards. One day, two days. A third. Always the same routine. At sun up Felicia would have bowls of slop brought and withdrawn, and the procedure would be repeated before sunset. The foul mess concocted by the ship’s cook remained far more suitable for the roaches who shared their cramped quarters than for the men who were forced to live in them. Still, the slop kept them alive — kept them going until they reached their destination. That was all that mattered. Staying alive.
*
“Land ahoy!” cried the lookout.
The pirate vessel lurched in strong winds, tilting hard to port as the ship cut through increasingly choppy waters and made its way north.
From the holes in the slats Sinbad watched the isle of Phalus appear with the bright sunshine of a new day. It was a small island, golden sandy beaches on one side with swaying palms behind them, a deep-water cove on the other, sided by long reefs and dangerous shoals. The cove was well hidden from sight, surrounded as it was by tall, thickly grassed hills that provided a natural protection both from the elements and passing ships. It took good knowledge to clear the shoals safely, Sinbad could tell; the pirate ship would have to do some very fancy maneuvering to slip between the reefs into harbor. A ship unfamiliar with these environs was certain to smash against the reefs long before it could negotiate its way to the cove. All the more reason for Melissa to have picked this island for a hideout.
As the vessel neared its berth, Sinbad saw a small gathering of women — also pirates, by their dress — come out to the pier and wave happily as their companions came home at last.
“Good fishing this trip, Rebecca!” Sinbad heard Melissa yell out to the woman in the forefront of the waiting pirates, a heavyset woman, nearing middle age, with barrel-shaped arms, three chins, and what seemed to be a permanent scowl etched deeply into her craggy face.
Lines were thrown and the anchor dropped, and the pirate ship came to rest in the harbor. Then, before Sinbad could see or hear anything else of what was going on outside, the doors of the hold abruptly opened and in walked Felicia, escorted by several of her largest Amazons and followed by both somber eunuchs, who thumbed their swords as they stood at either side of the door. The shackles were unlocked from their legs and Sinbad and his crew lined up and filed out along the corridor. Up the steps they were led and out from the forward hatch onto the main deck, where they were greeted with the first sunlight they had seen in nearly five days. The sea breeze was strong and salty, rushing against the weary crew like a balm, soothing them, filling their lungs with clean air.
“This way,” said Felicia, prodding Sinbad with her knife.
He stepped slowly down the gangway, glancing at the rows of staring women at either side. A fine-looking bunch of women, he thought, taking note of their supple bodies and bronzed complexions.
Abu, feeling a stirring in his loins, whispered to Sinbad: “By the Prophet! There must be a hundred women on this island! And not a man among them!” He shook his head sadly and sighed. “A pity that we are chained like this. Otherwise Phalus could prove to be a paradise.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” grumbled the captain. “Women they may be, but they’re still our jailors. Or have you forgotten?”
“Keep moving!” barked Felicia. She jabbed Sinbad lightly in the ribs, and the mariners hurried down onto the dock where a beaming Melissa already stood waiting.
“A good catch this time, eh, Rebecca?” she said with a gleam in her eyes. “Twenty-three men. Twenty-three!”
The larger, older woman narrowed her eyes and inspected the prisoners one.by one as they came down and were lined up along the grassy walk. She pursed her lips and paced up and down the line, hesitating here and there, selecting one crewman or another for closer inspection. At times she seemed pleased, at others disappointed. But when she paused in front of Mongo her eyes lit up like stars. “Who is this one?” she asked.
Melissa shrugged. “Just a brute. Of no particular intelligence; I interrogated him myself.”
The woman called Rebecca ran her fingers across Mongo’s biceps, looked at his eyes, examined his teeth. “He’ll bring a fine price, Melissa. Cull h
im from the others. A shame he’ll only be with us for a short while.”
The pirate captain smiled. “You may keep him if you like,” she said. “As a present from me. A personal slave.”
“Bah!” Rebecca scowled, but her cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment. “Any others of note?” she asked.
“Only this one.” She lifted her hand and pointed to Sinbad, who stood defiantly at the beginning of the lint;.
Rebecca curled her lip, tapped her fingertips at the side of her face. “What about him? He doesn’t seem very special to me. Except for that stupid frog sitting on his shoulder.”
A mischievous smile crossed Melissa’s lips; her scarlet hair glowed in morning sunlight as she tilted her head. “Perhaps you’re right, perhaps not. But he tells me that he’s Captain Sinbad from Baghdad.”
Rebecca seemed startled. “Sinbad? Are you certain?” Melissa laughed. She clapped her hands and lifted her gaze toward the sky. “Oh, lucky day! Can you imagine the price he might bring on the open market of Tangier? Why, I’ll wager that a hundred bidders would pay any price — any price — just to make him their own! The world’s most renowned mariner, Rebecca! Can you imagine! And I caught him with hardly a fight!”
The older pirate moved closer to Sinbad and studied him anew. “I’ve heard many tales of your exploits, Captain,” she said at length. “Your — er — visit to Phalus is truly an honor.”
Sinbad bowed his head politely. “I wish I could say the same, dear lady. Phalus seems most inviting to me and my crew” — he briefly scanned the groups of alluring young women — “but alas, not as your prisoners.”
There was an unmistakable twinkle in Rebecca’s dark eyes. “Yes, it is a shame, I agree. But such are the fortunes of life. Still, good Captain, it could be worse. At Phalus we take good care of our men before shipping them to the slave markets. Don’t we, girls?”
Giggles rose from the onlookers, but Felicia, dourly standing behind her leader, frowned. “This one’s more trouble than you realize, Rebecca. He’s shrewd — I know his games. He hopes to win us over with his charms.”
Melissa’s angry glance at her lieutenant was not missed by either Sinbad or the observant frog. “Enough of this,” snapped the fiery captain. “Rebecca, have them all taken to the guardhouse. I want them watched twenty-four hours a day until our preparations are done.”
“Aye, Melissa. And him too?” She looked to Sinbad.
Melissa ran a fingertip over her lip, lost in concentration. “No,” she replied between breaths. “Isolate him. Put him with the Athenian.”
Rebecca clapped her hands and the pirate crew snapped to attention. Then, with weapons drawn, they marched the men of the Scheherazade in quickstep away from the harbor to a large stone fortification set beyond the small cluster of huts that served as the island village. With downcast eyes the men obeyed the lash of whips and prodding of knives until they were behind the massive walls and locked away in a subterranean dormitory.
Rebecca and her chief strode to their own abode, the largest hut of all, atop a sandy hillock dotted with leafy palms. Sinbad watched as they left, finding himself now alone on the wharf except for Felicia and the two eunuch goons.
“All right, march!” she barked.
“Where are we going?” he asked casually as he was led toward the beach.
“You’ll see,” growled Felicia. “But you can count yourself lucky. By comparison, your stay here on Phalus will be in luxury. And I’m sure the Athenian shall be glad for the company. Now move! You may have intrigued Melissa — but you haven’t fooled me! And my patience is wearing thin.”
To Sinbad’s surprise, he was led to a shaded grotto and then down a winding black stone staircase. When they reached the bottom he found himself upon a flat, well-lighted landing. It seemed to be a secret stronghold, perhaps where the pirate booty was stored.
Sinbad stepped away from the torchlight and bathed in the shadows. “Why are you bringing me here?” he asked.
Before the question could be answered, he spun around at the sound of a fearsome growl. “By the beard of the Prophet!” He jumped back at the presence of a sleek black panther with fangs bared, scratching for him. The animal’s eyes glowed like fire in the dull light, and the cat hissed, humping its back as if preparing to leap. Only the linked iron chain set into the stone wall on one end and hooked to his collar at the other prevented him from*tearing at Sinbad’s throat.
Felicia smiled — a wicked sadistic smile that made Sinbad shiver. “Only a pet, Captain,” she told him in mock assurance. “We keep him down here to protect our stores from those who might be tempted to take more than their share. But you won’t have to worry, not where you’ll be.” And she signaled for the eunuchs to unlock the thick gate behind him. Iron moaned as the gate swung wide. Sinbad was taken inside another chamber, this one more like a prison cell. Large and dark, it was lit by a single oil lamp that burned upon a shelf in the corner. There were a few pieces of furniture — mats for sleeping, a tiny table with broken legs, water jugs and the like.
“Make yourself comfortable, Captain,” sneered Felicia as Sinbad glanced around. Then, before he could protest, she and the eunuchs were gone, slamming the barred gate shut, locking it and hurrying back to the entrance of the grotto.
Sinbad grasped at the bars and tried to shake them loose. “Let me out of here!” he boomed. “I want to be with my men! At least give me that much!”
But there was no reply, save for the distant gleeful laughter of Felicia, who had heard his baleful cries.
“It’s no use, Sinbad,” mumbled Don Giovanni as the sailor tried again to open the gate. “We’re trapped. We can’t escape.”
Sinbad looked up at the iron hinges firmly in place and saw that the bars from ceiling to floor could not be budged by ten men of twice his own weight. As painful to admit as it was, he knew the frog was right. Here they were and here they would stay until Melissa saw fit to decide otherwise.
“Bitch!” he bellowed, shaking a fist. The only answer was a ferocious growl from the watchful panther opposite. The great cat curled its tail and paced to the end of its leash, all the while glaring at Sinbad, no doubt contemplating what he would taste like for supper.
“I wouldn’t agitate him if I were you,” came a voice from behind. A dark figure came forth from the shadows, a frail, bent, aging man with watery eyes and a sad smile on his cracked lips. “The cat is never properly fed,” he went on. “Felicia does that on purpose, you know. Keeps him more on his toes … ”
With his hands on his hips, Sinbad stared. “And who are you? I didn’t see you when they brought me here.”
The smile expanded slightly. “I occupy the adjoining cell; the wall is open between us.”
“Then you are also a prisoner?”
The old man sighed. “Alas, yes. Lo, these past eight months, if my reckoning is still sound. But it’s difficult to keep track of such matters, you see.” He glanced at the foreboding walls that surrounded them. “No sunlight, no stars. It tends to make you claustrophobic. I daresay that some men have even gone mad. After all, when you’re alone so long … ” He shrugged. “Ah, well. It could be worse, you know. At least these women pirates feed me. Oh, yes. Twice a day. Once in a while three. And you know, occasionally they even put a bit of meat into their soups. Real meat! Ah, tis a treasure worth more than I can say. Yes, indeed it is. I never — ”
As Sinbad listened in astonishment, the peculiar fellow went on and on and on, hardly pausing to catch his breath, speaking of this and that, and a hundred items of trivia that hardly bore saying. It was clear to Sinbad that his companion had not had a living soul to speak to in so long that now he was unable to restrain himself even if he had wanted to.
“ … It was just last week that I was thinking,” — the odd stranger furrowed his brow and tapped a finger against his cheek — “or was it the week before? Well, never mind. Anyway, as I was saying — ”
Sinbad put out his palms. “Hold on
please! Just a second. Slow down a moment, will you? I’m confused enough as it is? Who are you, my friend? And what are you doing here on Phalus?”
A broad smile came to the man’s face and he nodded slowly, as if realizing how foolish he must seem. “Forgive me, sailor, but it has been a very long time since I had company … ”
Company, thought Sinbad. “Why, you must be the Athenian!”
The old man’s eyes glittered. “Why yes! Do you know me, then?”
“Only what the pirates muttered before I got here.”
“Then welcome, my friend.” He bowed expansively. “These quarters are humble, but I’m sure we’ll spend the time merrily while we wait to be taken.”
Sinbad leaned uncomfortably against the wall. “Taken where?”
His companion scratched at his straggly gray beard. “Any of a number of places, but the last batch of prisoners were taken to Tangier.”
Slaves, Sinbad told himself, reminded of the fate that awaited. “Why were you not taken with them?” wondered the mariner.
“Me? Oh, they wouldn’t take me away. Not in a hundred years. Not while I hold the key … ”
“What key?”
The Athenian grinned and pointed to his head. “It’s all locked away up here. They’ve been trying for ages to get it out of me. Damn clever, that Melissa. Why, she’s tried every trick in the book. They’ve seduced me, got me drunk, beat me, threatened my life, vowed to sell my daughter into slavery.
“Stop, stop,” pleaded Sinbad. “You’re losing me again. Start from the beginning and explain all of this.”
With a deep sigh the old man seated himself on the floor. Dejectedly he closed his eyes and nodded. “It’s a strange tale, my friend. Yes, indeed. I only hope you won’t think me too demented.”
“I’ve heard many strange tales in my day, old-timer. Let me hear yours.”
“Ah, well. All right. But where shall I start? My name is Methelese. I am a scholar and philosopher of Athens. With my lovely daughter Clair, I sailed upon a merchant ship, set for Rhodes, where I hoped to complete my work. But along the way, much as yourself, I should think, my ship was accosted by these brigands of the sea and those of us who survived the bloody battle were taken prisoner and brought here to Phalus. That was nearly eight months ago, as I mentioned. During that time I’ve seen other prisoners come and go like the tides. Egyptians, Cypriots, Hebrews. All sharing the same fate. The Scarlet Pirate, you see, rarely kills her victims. She shrewdly uses them, first here on Phalus to keep her mates happy, and — ”
The Thief of Kalimar; Captain Sinbad; Cinnabar Page 63
