The Thief of Kalimar; Captain Sinbad; Cinnabar

by Graham Diamond

  The sailors looked at the prizes and each other in total wonder.

  “Find some sacks,” said Sinbad, his breath swept away. “Load up as much as you can, and wait for me.”

  They knew precisely what had to be done. And while his men buoyantly chose from among the plethora of stolen wealth, Sinbad fumbled with the keys and deftly opened the lock of his former cell. A wild and frantic Felicia greeted him, slashing at his face with her long nails.

  Sinbad fought her off, shifting when she tried to kick him in the groin with the toe of her boot, fending off her small pounding fists striking his chest.

  “You swine!” she flared. “You son of a whore!” She flailed her arms and wailed; Sinbad tripped her and wrestled her to the ground. “Don’t come near me! I’ll tear out your — ”

  “Calm down!” said the mariner, pinning her shoulders.

  She spit in his face and he winced. “Scum! Camel dung!” Sinbad reddened. “Baghdad trash from the sewer!” And her throaty rasps showed no sign of ceasing.

  Sinbad sighed. “I’m sorry to do this,” he told her, drawing back his fist, “but you’re not giving me much choice … ” He hit her squarely in the jaw, knocking her out. Felicia groaned and slumped in his arms.

  The clamor of approaching Melissa and her cohorts could plainly be heard as they raced down the stone steps into the corridor.

  “Damn!” Sinbad gritted his teeth, picked up the unconscious girl, and threw her over his shoulder. Then he ran from the cell, clinging close to the wall to keep away from the clawing panther, and shouted to his lingering men. “Move it, move it!” he urged. “They’re almost here!”

  All smiles, Abu and the others came rushing out with cloth sacks weighted with gold.

  “We’re still leaving a fortune behind,” said Abu despairingly. “There’s enough wealth in there to make every one of us a king!” He pointed behind with his thumb, adding, “we never even had a chance to look in the other chamber … ”

  Sinbad shook his head ruefully. “A pity, I know, but there’s nothing to be done. Now let’s keep moving.”

  Abu held high the torch and together they made all haste to follow where Methelese had taken the others. From behind, Sinbad could hear the loud shrieks of the Scarlet Pirate herself as she came upon her ransacked treasure room and realized that so many of her precious prizes had been stolen — treasures it had taken her years to collect.

  “Catch those devils!” she bellowed, foaming at the mouth with rage.

  And then came the rattling of a chain, the snapping of springs. Sinbad paused and listened with growing trepidation — the panther had been unleashed!

  Like lizards fleeing to safe cracks in the wall, the men of the Scheherazade hastened through the rabbit warren of dark, secret passages. From behind them came the cat, muted pads dashing on stone, leaping and bounding in pursuit of the intruders.

  Felicia began to come out of her daze. Groaning, she opened her eyes. As awareness crept into consciousness she screamed, clawing and biting at her abductor. Sinbad swung her down onto the ground, constrained her and shouted for Abu.

  “Take her,” he ordered his first mate. “Get her safely aboard the ship. I’ll hold our rear.”

  “But, Capt’n! One man alone against — ”

  Sinbad gnashed his teeth. “This is no time for arguments! just do as I say!”

  Picking up Felicia and throwing her over his aching shoulder, Abu scampered away down the narrowing tunnel, searching for the ray of light at the end of the shaft. Once he was gone, Sinbad clung like glue to the dark wall; he drew his knife and panted tensely, waiting for the panther.

  Eyes aglow in the black of the grotto, the thick-furred female came charging. Its keen senses picked up Sinbad’s closeness at once. Then, catching a fleeting glimpse of his silhouette covered in shadows, it hunched back and hissed, then struck out like a rattlesnake.

  Sinbad swung around to the center of the tunnel, dodging the wild slashes of its paws. Up went his knife hand. It cut through the soft flesh of the panther’s underbelly, weaving toward its heart. The wounded animal roared in pain and brought its full weight to bear against its foe. Sinbad tottered and tumbled back, slamming hard against the jagged wall.

  Huge fangs tore for his throat; Sinbad wrenched the cat by the throat and began to squeeze. Into a pool of blood they slipped together, the screaming panther flailing wildly, cavorting on top of its enemy. With all his effort, Sinbad ignored the sting of slashes across his chest, drew the knife from the cat’s belly, and plunged again — this time straight into its heart. The panther writhed, coiled its tail, hissed again. But life was draining. Slowly it shut its eyes and collapsed, spasmodically jerking.

  Sinbad slipped out from under. Wincing with pain, he looked at the dark blood over his hands and shuddered. The cat had slashed him deeply near his right shoulder, where now crimson stains spread slowly over his shirt. He staggered to his feet, nauseous, wanting to faint, but that was a luxury he could afford. Not yet. Not while escape was so close.

  Mindlessly he continued to run. The footsteps of Melissa and her Amazons were still too close behind for comfort. His feet found strength where there was none, carrying him forward, stumbling and tripping, searching for the exit.

  How long he had been running he didn’t know; it felt like hours. But suddenly his name was being called. From ahead he could see the tiny figures of his men, Abu, Milo, a jumping frog bouncing off Methelese’s shoulder. Beyond them a circle of bright daylight blinded his eyes.

  Mongo and Abu were helping him to run. Events all around were dizzying. There were two ships berthed at the dock, Melissa’s swift craft and the Scheherazade moored directly behind it. His own men had begun to clamor aboard the Sherry; he could see the few sentries being heaved over the side into the sea. Gangplanks were lowered, as Milo directed defenses against a barrage of whistling arrows which sailed from a large group of pirates who had gathered at the village.

  “Set fire to the dock,” Sinbad said to Abu. “They mustn’t have a chance to follow … ”

  Abu lost no time obeying. Torches were hurled from one end to the other, and blazing flames instantly ignited the aging planks. Balls of fire spread in every direction. As Sinbad made it to the deck of his ship, he could see Melissa and her Amazons stopped in their chase at the opening of the tunnel, unable to take a single step farther without running into the fire.

  Melissa’s eyes found Sinbad and she shook her fists. “You haven’t seen the last of me yet!” she vowed with all the venom of a woman scorned. “Beware, Captain Sinbad! Beware!”

  Sinbad, still in pain, refused assistance and turned to his crew. “Hoist the anchor!” he called. “Unfurl sails!”

  And the men, weary as they were from the previous night’s escapades, looked to the new day’s growing brightness and scampered to carry out the orders.

  Sinbad stood at the rail, his white knuckles clenched. The mainsail swelled with the wind, sprays of salt water flaying over the deck, as the Scheherazade tipped slightly to starboard and began its careful escape between the shoals.

  Black smoke was rising above the tiny isle of Phalus; he could still see the fires raging out of control in the village and on the wharf, where a few Amazons aboard their own ship desperately made all effort to lift anchor and pull away before the fire engulfed it as well. But it was too late, Sinbad saw. Already popping fires were breaking out along the hull and bulwark. It would take weeks to repair the damage.

  “You taught them a lesson or two they won’t quickly forget,” chuckled Milo, drawing close to his captain’s side. “Phalus shall never be the same.” He looked at the burning ship and glowered. “Serves them right if they can’t leave the island for a year. That’ll teach the Scarlet Pirate a few things about us.”

  Sinbad nodded, glad the ordeal was over. “What about Methelese and his small daughter? Are they safely aboard?”

  There was a twinkle in Milo’s eyes as he said they were.

  �
�And Felicia? You have her as well?”

  Milo laughed heartily. “Bound and gagged below — kicking like a wildcat, but safe and sound as you instructed.”

  “Good, good. Then we can get on with our business. We’re too far behind schedule as it is.”

  Sinbad gritted his teeth and subdued the rising pain. A worried Milo took a closer look at his wounds and gasped.

  “Captain, you’d better get below, have Methelese look at that — ”

  “I’ll be all right,” the mariner replied.

  “But Sinbad, you need someone to tend those cuts!”

  Sinbad smiled. “Soon. Just as soon as we’re away from Phalus. Just as soon as I know we’re … ” He looked at Milo with a strange stare, rolled his eyes, and felt the blood drain from his face. And then he passed out.

  *

  In the dream he could see Sherry, her gentle features marred by tears as she sat in the garden of the caliph’s palace and pulled petals off a wilting flower. Sinbad was there beside her, but she couldn’t see him. He reached out, touched her cheek, kissed her lips. Still she couldn’t see him. To her he was less than a ghost, merely the faintest wind, and she shivered, pulling her shawl more tightly about her as he pulled away in frustration.

  Can’t you see me, dearest? he wept. Can’t you tell I’m here? Back home, together with you where I belong, never to leave your side again.

  But Scheherazade did not hear. With eyes swollen from crying and features hollow from grief, she lifted her gaze and stared right through him to the distant setting sun. “Come back to me, Sinbad,” he heard her whisper. “Come back to me … ”

  “But I’m here now! Look at me! I’m here!” He took her hand and sobbed with the realization that she couldn’t feel his touch.

  “I love you, Sinbad,” she said to the wind. “But I don’t know how much longer I can live in waiting. Please, hear me, wherever you are; and come back, come back as swiftly as you can before I die of a broken heart.”

  And then she put her hands to her face and sobbed, leaving him cold, miserable, and alone. Sinbad shuddered as the pieces of his nightmare began to shatter. Soon he was alone in a void, a world with no color, where the cold only grew worse.

  He opened his eyes slowly, then quickly shut them against the streams of sunlight pouring in through the porthole of his cabin. A hand was reaching out across his forehead, soothing his brow gently, while a soft voice whispered for him to go back to sleep.

  Dreamily, Sinbad forced his eyes open slowly, this time letting his pupils adjust to the sun. He was on his own bed, he realized, carefully bandaged, wrapped in blankets. His injured shoulder throbbed terribly, and he remembered everything that had happened. But he did not remember the girl who sat in a chair beside him, her hand touching his face.

  She was a pretty young thing, braided golden hair falling over her breasts, brown low lashes half hiding the palest of blue eyes. A petite nose, slight chin. Ruddy cheeks and the hint of laughter in her smile.

  “You fever’s gone,” she said simply, leaning back now in her chair. “You were very lucky; those cuts could have been much deeper. In which case — ”

  “In which case I’d probably be lying dead in that tunnel on Phalus.”

  His mysterious companion grinned. “Quite so. You must be charmed, Captain Sinbad, with nine lives like a cat.”

  Sinbad groaned. “Please, don’t ever speak to me of cats again. I hope I never see another as long as I live.”

  There was warmth in her dancing eyes as she laughed.

  He tried to raise himself on an elbow and grimaced as pains shot through him like thunderbolts.

  “You mustn’t move,” cautioned the girl, growing stern. “At least not today. Not until you’ve had some hot food to give you strength.” Then she stood up, walked to the door, and called for the crewman waiting outside the cabin. “Fetch some broth,” she commanded. “Bread, butter, perhaps a little wine to wash it down.”

  Sinbad looked on with curiosity as his crewman hardly glanced over at him, seeming more than content to take orders from her.

  She came back to the chair, sat down, and patted his hand. “Don’t worry about a thing,” she told him. “Everything’s well in order. Abu’s doing a fine job until you’re well enough to resume command. And we should reach Crete in a day or two. There we’ll load up with new supplies and — ”

  “And set our course for the Pillars of Hercules?”

  She nodded her head happily. “Just as you wanted. As I said, you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

  Sinbad scratched his head. “You seem to know quite a bit about me and this voyage … ”

  “Oh, I do, Captain. I do! I know everything!”

  The glint of mischief in her smile was not missed. “And — er — may I ask who you are?”

  The girl looked at him oddly. “You don’t know?”

  He shrugged.

  “But my father assured me that you were told all about me. He — ”

  “Your father?”

  “Methelese.”

  Sinbad’s eyes grew big as chestnuts. “You? You’re Clair?”

  She laughed grandly. “I am,” she replied with a polite nod.

  Is it possible? thought Sinbad, wondering if he might still be delirious after all. “But your father told me you were just a child.”

  “Then you must be pleasantly surprised … ”

  Sinbad scratched his beard. “Umm. I am. But — er — not displeased.”

  Clair blushed at his admiring eyes, pleased to be so well thought of in the mind of the world’s most famous mariner.

  “My father likes to think of me that way,” she sighed, lips slightly turned down in a girlish pout. “But as you can see” — here she laughed again — “he didn’t quite tell you the whole story … ”

  And he shared her mirth, happy that he found himself being tended by her and not by her capable but stodgy father.

  He wanted to continue the conversation, find out more about her and the strange work on Rhodes that Methelese had begun, but before he had the chance, in came the sailor carrying his food. Clair tasted the soup, smacked her lips in approval, and told the man to go. Then, propping Sinbad up on his pillows, she spoon-fed him until he’d eaten everything.

  “Now you should get some more rest,” she advised, and a spinning head assured him she was right. He lay back as she took away the bowl and left him alone, promising to be back with supper.

  *

  “A fair wind all the way,” chortled Abu when Sinbad came to the helm for the first time.

  Feeling the spray and the breeze, Sinbad nodded. It was good to be up and around again, good to feel the deck beneath his feet and to watch the rolling swells. Clair had been a good nurse, but even her company had been no replacement for the sea, the best cure any sailor could possibly have.

  Abu pointed to a dim jut of land on the starboard horizon. “That’s Crete,” he said with a note of triumph. “With luck we should berth at Chandrax about dawn tomorrow.” He looked at Sinbad and winked. “Maybe even give the crew a bit of shore leave. After all, they’ve not had any since leaving Jaffa.”

  Sinbad readily agreed. His men, despite all the adversity, had done a good job, and he was very proud of them. They were well deserving of double their promised share of the profits once this long voyage was done.

  “Is the cargo ready to be unloaded?”

  “Aye, aye, Capt’n. Safe and sound. It was fortunate for us that Melissa saw fit to leave it in our holds when she commandeered the ship.”

  Sinbad flinched at the reminder of his experiences on Phalus. “And what about our extra passenger?” he asked.

  Crafty Abu twirled at his moustache and chuckled. “She’s given us some trouble, but she’s well enough. If you ask me, it was foolish to bring her with us. She’ll only try and run back to her beloved pirates.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “We had to keep her locked in the forward hold. She’s a hellcat,
that one.” And he shuddered in mock fear.

  Sinbad laughed knowingly. He made a quick inspection of the ship, reminding himself to get busy on his charts before they reached Crete. Their little escapade had cost them much time and he was eager to make up for the delay. Still, even that could wait for a little while. Having seen that everything was in order, he went back down below.

  Felicia, sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees and staring out the small porthole, hardly turned her head as Sinbad unlocked her cabin door and stepped inside.

  “What do you want?” she asked with a sneer. Her elfin features were scuffed with dirt and her tunic ripped and tattered, testifying to her struggles with crewmen whenever one of them brought her food or tried to speak to her.

  “I came to see how you are,” Sinbad replied coolly.

  She glared at him. “Go to Hades.” Then she turned again to the porthole. She gazed at the sky for a long while, finally saying, “May I ask what you intend to do with me?”

  “I haven’t given it very much thought,” Sinbad admitted truthfully. “But I wanted to get you off that island of yours, take you somewhere where you could begin a new life.”

  Her voice was thick with bitterness. “To sell me as a slave?”

  “No, Felicia. Maybe to find you a home … ”

  “I don’t need your help. Put me ashore anywhere. I can find my own way in the world. I don’t need you or anybody.”

  Sinbad sighed. “That may be so, but I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with me until this voyage is over.”

  This time she turned fully around and stared at him intently. “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I’ve said: You’re here to stay aboard the Scheherazade until this voyage is finished. And let me