The Thief of Kalimar; Captain Sinbad; Cinnabar

by Graham Diamond

  Sinbad leaned forward inquisitively. “Keep them happy how?”

  Methelese chuckled. “You’ll learn that for yourself, my friend. But the rigors of satisfying a hundred women and more can be quite taxing, I assure you. How many are there among your party?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  The Athenian’s brows rose in speculation. “Then you are most fortunate! One man for nearly five women! The last group of prisoners only numbered nine. Each man was forced to please a dozen! Oft times in the same night!” Methelese shivered. “Poor fellows. Some nearly died from the strain.”

  Sinbad was incredulous. “And … and what of yourself?” he managed to ask after a pause of silence.

  “I am old,” conceded Methelese. “Not of very much use. So I am kept here, apart from the others and their debauches, allowed to waste my life away.”

  “And pray tell, good philosopher, what makes you so special that Melissa has seen fit to keep you alive all this time? As you’ve already admitted, your services to her are — er — minimal.”

  “Ah, but are they?” Methelese clapped his hands and laughed. “But have you forgotten? They believe me to hold the key — the key, man! In my head, I hold the key to many of the world’s secrets. Lost arts, treasures, potions. In fact, the purpose for my visit to Rhodes was to search the temples for the Book of Knowledge. There it was my intent and purpose to learn the meaning of this shallow life in which we live, and share this wisdom with all. No, my youthful friend, I have many secrets to unlock for Melissa and her renegades. I am a storehouse of the places where gold, pearls, the wealth of man, have been buried and lost over the centuries. These pirates would be foolish indeed to kill me. They thirst for what I could tell, and would gladly sail beyond the Pillars of Hercules to find such lost riches.”

  Sinbad’s shoulders sagged and he frowned. His friend did indeed have an interesting story to tell, but one of little use in their current predicament.

  “Thus,” went on Methelese sadly, “they hold my darling child apart from me in another dungeon and vow never to set either of us free until I tell them everything they want to know.”

  “So why not tell them?” said Sinbad. “What good are these secrets of yours when no one can solve them? At least Melissa would reward you with freedom — ”

  The Athenian flushed with anger. “I can see you are not a man to think of others! Are you so selfish that you would unravel the world’s mysteries for your own life? You would give to pirates the enigmas of the universe in exchange for a single petty life? Selfish man! Bite your tongue! Never! Never will I reveal all that I know, even should my bones rot for eternity within this foul and miserable abode. Let men quest, if they will, but I, Methelese of Athens, am unbending. Like a rock I stand, like the Pillars of Hercules themselves, steadfast in the knowledge that what I do is right!”

  “That doesn’t help us any, does it?” rasped Don Giovanni, annoyed at his self-righteousness.

  Methelese’s tongue wobbled in his mouth. He stared at the frog, doubting his ears and his sanity. “He speaks! By the gods of old, the creature speaks!”

  Sinbad grinned. “Well, it seems that you don’t know all of the world’s secrets after all,” he said dryly.

  The Athenian blinked his eyes and turned to Sinbad. “This must be a trick. You are a ventriloquist … ”

  Sinbad shook his head. “I promise you I’m not. Allow me to introduce you to Baghdad’s most well-traveled bullfrog, Don Giovanni.”

  Don Giovanni bowed politely on Sinbad’s shoulders. “An honor to meet you, Methelese.”

  The Athenian hunched forward and examined the frog more closely, touching him lightly with his fingertips.

  “Ouch, that tickles!”

  Methelese quickly withdrew his hand from Don Giovanni’s belly. “Excuse me — er — my friend. I didn’t mean to offend you … ”

  Sinbad roared with laughter and slapped the confused philosopher on the shoulder. “Take heart, Methelese. He’s not a wizard, nor am I. But you see, we have traveled many a long road together, and have our own interesting tale to tell.”

  “Then by all means tell it!” cried the philosopher, with a scholar’s eagerness to learn wonders.

  Sinbad nodded gravely. “All right, I suppose I should. But,” he cautioned, “I have to have your word never to speak of it with anyone. You see, save for my most trusted crewmen, Abu, Milo, and Mongo the Giant, no one in the world knows of Don Giovanni’s plight. It is our own little secret, carefully guarded, and must remain so.”

  “I understand. You have my solemn oath.” And Methelese held out his hand to shake on it. “Never a word shall I utter, not even to my dear child Clair, should I ever have the fortune to gaze upon her lovely face again.”

  And so, sitting in the shadows, Sinbad told his sorrowful story from its beginning, how after so long a time and so many shared adventures he and the frog had wound up here on Phalus as the Scarlet Pirate’s most prized prisoners. It was a woeful tale, and it brought a tear to Methelese’s tired eyes when he had done.

  Somber and grim-faced, the Athenian said, “Then escape for you is most important.”

  “Imperative, my scholarly friend. Not just for me and my crew, but also for my beloved Sherry, who languishes in the palace of a man she loathes. For that reason alone I must continue my voyage and find the Red Dahlia.” Methelese sucked in a lungful of the damp air and held it a long time before slowly letting it out. He shut his eyes wearily and began to gently rock back and forth in his place, sighing on several occasions, rubbing a bony finger alongside his nose. At length his eyes opened and he looked long and hard at the sullen mariner. “Perhaps there is a way to help you,” he confided.

  Sinbad stared. “How? Tell me! I’ll do anything!” Methelese grunted. “We must not be hasty, Captain, lest we be foiled before we start. But … ” His eyes scanned the darkened cell as if seeking out unwanted listeners, and he rubbed his hands together in a slow deliberate motion. “There is a tunnel leading to the dock,” he said quickly, in a secretive whisper. “I came upon it once months ago, but as I have no ship” — he shrugged — “it was of little use … ”

  “But I have a ship,” cried Sinbad gleefully. “The Scheherazade, fit and trimmed and sitting idly in Phalus’s harbor! Where is this tunnel, old-timer? How do I find it?”

  “Ah, the impatience of youth,” mumbled Methelese beneath his sour breath. “Even if I show it to you, you’ll still have to devise a way to free your crew … ”

  “I’ll think of something, don’t worry.”

  The Athenian frowned. “And there is one other condition for my help … ”

  Sinbad held firmly at both his shoulders. “Name it!”

  “My own release — and Clair’s as well. She is kept in quarters close to Melissa’s own, so the way will be dangerous. You must take us both far from Phalus — I care not where — but the Scarlet Pirate’s wrath is not to be toyed with.”

  Sinbad laughed, buoyed at the thought of at last turning the tables on his fiery adversary. What wouldn’t he give!

  “All you ask is freely given, friend Methelese. Now all we need is a plan.”

  The Athenian smiled. “We shall have to bide our time and wait for the pirate banquet to commence. All your crew, including yourself I should think, shall be brought forth from their cells for these buccaneers’ pleasure. And then, amid this party and debauchery, shall be our only chance. There won’t be much time and the risks are high. Have no doubts, if we are caught in our scheme, Felicia will have no qualms at serving us one at a time to her hungry pet.” And as if giving credence to his words, the sleek black panther growled and bared its sharpened fangs.

  Sinbad shivered. “We’ll have to chance it, old-timer. One way or another we must get off Phalus — and if it takes my killing the Scarlet Pirate myself, then I’ll have to do it.”

  PART FIVE:

  From one frying pan right into another.

  Sinbad woke to the sound of keys fumbling
in the lock and the groan of the iron door. Felicia, a eunuch holding a torch beside her, walked calmly into the cell. Sinbad roused himself slowly, letting his sleepy eyes wander about his confining quarters. Shadows danced across the ceiling; he could see tiny insects dashing for shade from the flickering torchlight.

  What time was it? He cursed softly under his breath. In this black hole there was no way of knowing if those outside beheld a star-dazzled midnight or a bright noon sun.

  “On your feet,” growled Felicia, glaring down at him, a small whip clutched tightly in her hand.

  He looked up at her in confusion. “What — what’s going on?”

  Felicia sneered coldly. “I’m taking you out of here. The captain has sent for you. Now up — before I have to get rough.”

  Sinbad flexed aching muscles and recalled his discomfort upon the thin mat that served as a bed. Pebbles and rocks had dug at him ceaselessly, forcing him to toss and turn in a constant effort to find a less-punishing position. “Why am I being sent for?” he asked while he stood.

  The pirate girl snapped her fingers restlessly. “Come on, come on. I’ve no time for your questions. Just follow me and keep your mouth shut.”

  He nodded and bent over to pick up the sleeping frog from beneath his blanket.

  “Never mind your pet,” snapped Felicia. “You can leave him here.”

  He shot her an angry glance. “Where I go, he goes. Otherwise you can inform your scarlet-haired leader that I refuse.”

  The young pirate groaned, knowing from past experience that the cocky mariner meant what he said. “All right, all right. Wake him and take him. See if I care. But hurry up.”

  Sinbad stuffed the yawning frog inside his shirt and followed the eunuch out the door. Moments later, after passing the panther’s watchful eyes, they had reached the stairs and come out of the grotto. Sinbad gazed up at the sky; it was a brilliant night with thousands upon thousands of twinkling stars thickly clustered above his head. A perfect, cool evening with a lazy half-moon hanging above the treetops.

  “This way,” muttered Felicia wearily, directing him to the path that led away from the village and to the thatched-roof villa that served as Melissa’s house.

  Palms were swaying in the breeze, and there was no noise to be heard, save for the surf crashing against the white beach and the occasional hoot of an owl. Few lamps were lit in the cottages, and, apart from his guards, the only other signs of life that Sinbad could see were the sentries, three fierce Amazons, hands to the hilts of their swords as they marched up and down the nearby dock, keeping a careful eye on the two berthed ships and the ocean beyond.

  They walked the path to the villa, Felicia in the lead. “Wait here,” she commanded, leaving him to stand with the eunuch beside the leafy trees. Then the girl strode briskly around the side of the whitewashed stone edifice and gently rapped on the door. The shutters were tightly closed but Sinbad could make out a dull orange glow of lamplight behind the window. He strained to hear what the pirate was saying when Melissa finally opened the door, but with the surf so close and the leaves rustling from the wind, he could not eavesdrop.

  “Getting chilly, isn’t it?” he remarked with a smile to the grim eunuch.

  The castrated brute grunted in reply. They waited for what seemed to be a long time before Felicia came back and told Sinbad to go inside.

  “Alone?” he asked.

  Felicia smirked, her hair tossing freely in the breeze, her young features bathed in moonlight. “Alone,” she replied.

  “Aren’t you afraid I might do some harm to your boss?”

  There was a girlish glint in Felicia’s eyes when he said that, the first hint of femininity Sinbad had seen in the fierce second-in-command. “Melissa can take care of herself. Now do as you’re told.” And she played with her whip as a warning. Sinbad shrugged, finished his walk to the end of the path, and rapped upon the door.

  “Enter,” came a reply.

  He unhooked the simple outside latch and entered the room. Glaring light from randomly placed candles and oil lamps made him shade his eyes. After a second or two of adjustment he looked around with surprise. The cottage was more finely furnished than he could have imagined, with all manner of rare and exotic artifacts hanging from the walls and placed around the room. There were curious statues of ivory set upon glass tables. Images of elephants, swans in a pond, tusks on the wall, and a fine bear-pelt complete with head resting on the floor in the center of the room. Velvet cushions were spread everywhere, alongside them brass braziers where incense burned and sent tiny whiffs of dark smoke up toward the ceiling. Golden goblets adorned rows of mahogany shelves, interspersed with tiny hand-painted figurines of oven-blasted clay. Miniature soldiers and courtesans, ladies-in-waiting, kings, queens, knights in armor. Sinbad knew that the value of these items was incalculable. But when such spoils are taken without payment, the new owner need never calculate their worth.

  “Welcome, Captain Sinbad,” the pirate said.

  Sinbad turned to find her stretched out upon a divan of deep blue velvet, dressed in a fabulous Eastern robe of Cathay, inlaid with threads of pure gold at the collar and hems, which offset magnificently the fine black silk of the garment. Bejeweled with golden rings studded with rubies and sapphires, a pearly necklace dangling from her throat, Melissa held in her hand a silver goblet filled to the brim with sweet dark wine. Her scarlet hair fell in curls almost to her luscious hips. She looked at the startled mariner and smiled spicily.

  “You sent for me, madam?”

  Melissa softly drummed her fingernails along the side of the inlaid silver goblet. “I did.”

  “Why?

  The Scarlet Pirate laughed lustily. “To talk, Captain.” She shifted her weight and crossed her legs, noticing as Sinbad’s quick eye caught the curve of her exposed thigh.

  “To talk about what? Where I am to be sold as a slave?”

  Melissa laughed again, this time with more abandon. “Come, Captain. Sit beside me. Pour yourself a cup of wine. It’s the finest I own, and I promise you’ll be pleased. Roman brew, a heady stuff guaranteed to make your dour face less forbidding.” She giggled and took a sip.

  He reached for the empty cup on the side table and poured from the Greek urn. Melissa watched with a pleased expression as he drank. Then she moved over, giving him plenty of room to sit. One swallow and he could feel the fire burning through his veins. “It is good,” he admitted, seating himself comfortably. “Where did you steal it?”

  She ignored the sarcasm in his tone and answered simply, “from a merchant ship headed for Constantinople. Ten barrels being sent to the devout priests; a shame it never reached them. But then, Christians wouldn’t have appreciated it, anyway.”

  Sinbad rubbed the toe of his boot into the thick rug and leaned back. He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Melissa stretched out her hand and brushed a shock of unruly hair from his brow. Sinbad looked at her, grudgingly admiring her well-developed shape.

  Sensing his interest, Melissa smiled seductively. “You know, you and I don’t have to be enemies,” she told him.

  He laughed caustically. “Since when does a prisoner become anything less to his jailor?”

  Melissa pouted; she ran a slow finger over the rim of her goblet, eyes focused on the rich wine. “Perhaps you need not be a prisoner,” she said. “Perhaps you and I can come to — er — another agreement … ”

  A harsh wind had begun to blow outside, and it whistled as it crept through the locked shutters. From the far distance came a low rumble of thunder, signaling an approaching storm.

  “I’ll get to the point,” Melissa went on, now looking at Sinbad once more. Her eyes were wide as she said, “I have need of a man like you, Sinbad. You’re strong, virile, intelligent: exactly the qualities I need. The Mediterranean is filled with freebooters — thousands of them. But I’d trade them all for one like you … ”

  Sinbad stirred restlessly. “What are you proposing?” he asked, t
aking her goblet from her hand and putting it down on the table.

  Melissa sighed. She threw back her hair, spilling it freely over her shoulders, and shut her eyes. “I’ve been thinking, Captain. This life I lead, as rewarding as it may be, is a lonely one. I have need of companionship — real companionship, not eunuchs or drunken buccaneers who court me like I was a sow. When I met you, I knew you were different; gods yes! A man I could trust, a man I could admire.” She looked at him girlishly. “And yes, even one I might love.”

  A brief silence passed between them, with Sinbad studying the face of his erstwhile adversary. Behind her mask of bravado lay a still young, lovely but lonely woman. A woman desperately in search of someone to share her solitude, for even a pirate grows frightened as the nights become long and bitter and the shallowness of her empty years cannot be hidden away in a roomful of treasure. “What do you want of me?” he said at last.

  The rain clouds were almost overhead now, flashes of lightning fiercely brightening the sky. Melissa lifted her gaze heavenward, then after a while, said, “I’ve decided to offer you a partnership, Captain. Stand by my side, sail with me upon my ventures, command your own ship beside mine. Together we could hold the sea in our very hands. There is nothing we couldn’t accomplish, no foe we couldn’t match, no ship we — ”

  “We couldn’t plunder?”

  She looked at him sharply. “Yes, plunder!” She laughed bitterly. “And why not? What have these princes and kings to do with us? Their wealth has been stolen from others, has it not? From weaker kingdoms forced to pay tribute, from land torn asunder by armies who kill and loot the same as I? Who is to say they are more deserving than you or I? Who is to say their theft is more noble than my own? While the peoples starve, they fill their bellies like gluttons. But here, on Phalus, all share in the bounty, from the lowest sailor to my most trusted lieutenants like Felicia and Rebecca. I offer a good life, Sinbad. One filled with adventure, one that a merchant seaman can only dream of and admire. Share this with me, Captain. I give my pledge you won’t be sorry.”