As their ship slid by the other, the archers on the top deck fired arrows at one another from a distance of only twenty feet, and men died on both sides. Talon aimed and loosed arrow after arrow, aiming for the crew of the ship who were trying to restore some kind of order on the top deck, when several men at the rear of the ship caught his attention.
They had a metal pot on the deck and one man was about to dip an arrow into it. With a chill Talon realized what it meant: he had used this same tactic when attacked by the corsair in the Middle sea on his way to France. This time he could not retaliate; they had no fire on board, but the enemy did. He ran towards the front of the ship, dodging past men who were screaming abuse at the enemy and shooting arrows as fast as they could. He noted with approval that his men were firing accurately and their skill was showing results, but their own men were dying too. He had little time to waste.
He jumped onto a grating, looking for his man again, and saw that he was just about to reach for his bow, now with a flaming arrow in his hand. With one swift motion, Talon drew and fired. His arrow sped across the short gap to drive through the neck of his victim. The man threw up his arms and fell over backwards onto the metal pot. He tumbled onto his side and, in doing so, tossed the contents of the pot across their own deck.
The embers flew into the cordage nearby and spread across the planks. The men scattered in panic, leaving the embers unattended. Several did return and tried to gather up the smoldering wood and put it back into the pot, but Talon killed two of them before they realized that they were a target and the rest ran off to find cover.
Most of the men on the enemy ship had no idea that they faced grave danger until it was almost too late. Then they smelled the dreaded stink of burning tar smoke. There was a yell of panic and any thoughts of the attack faded in the face of their new adversary as they made haste to deal with the fire spreading on their deck.
Malek called to Max to tell the men below to start rowing fast. They rowed for their lives; oars bit into the water and the ship seemed to jerk forward; but some of the ropes were still attached to the two ships, hindering their escape. Men leapt forward to cut them free. Some were struck by arrows, but others took their places and hacked at the ropes with their swords until they were finally free. Their motion increased rapidly, leaving the other ship almost still in the water: its sails held it against the current; but the crewmen, who had been decimated by the archers from Malek’s ship, were now preoccupied with extinguishing the fire. The stricken boat began to turn slowly and drift sideways, its sails started to flap, and smoke poured from the after-deck.
Talon saw they were now free to move out of immediate danger but this was to be short lived; their short delay had been enough to allow the second to close on them.
To everyone’s astonishment, Khalidah climbed up to the aft deck and called out, pointing. Her veil had gone and she had a strange expression on her face.
“Look!” she shouted.
Malek and Panhsj spun around; Kazim was almost knocked over by Panhsj as he whirled about.
“It is Kemosiri ibn Jibade! How could it be? He is come to help us, praise be to God!”
Malek stared at the man who was standing high on the rear deck of the ship that was bearing down upon them. Panhsj stared too, but neither of them seemed to think they were being saved. Everything about the man on the ship descending upon them spoke of danger.
“God protect us, but I do not think so, my Lady,” Malek said in a low tone.
The man whom Khalidah had called Kemosiri was watching them, and even at this distance they could see a look of triumph on his face. He was dressed in rich clothing under a very fine suit of chain and he wore a lose turban on his head wrapped over a well-fitted helmet. His sword was drawn. He casually saluted, but then turned and shouted some orders at the men clustered around him.
A shower of arrows was loosed from the waist of his ship straight into them. Each man dove behind the thick wooden rear of the ship. Malek drove a stunned looking Khalidah down with him as the arrows thudded into the wood next to them. One of the steering men fell with a surprised look on his face right in front of Khalidah, who shrank back with a cry of alarm.
Talon rushed onto the deck in time to see the ship bearing down upon them. He stopped abruptly, pointed and yelled, “That is the man! That is the man who was with Bahir! He is Al Muntaqim!”
He rushed to Khalidah and grasped her by the arm.
“My Lady, what are you doing here?”
Khalidah stared at the other ship as though she had seen a snake. “You said he is Al Muntaqim, Suleiman? How do you know this?” she gasped.
“Because I was in Bahir’s house when he and the poet were talking together, but there was this other man who they kept calling Al Muntaqim, my Lady. It is that man, I have no doubt of it.” He pointed again at the man on the ship. “There is no time, hurry!” They were drawing closer. “You must go below. Now!”
They had no time to react. The enemy ship commanded by Kemosiri was descending upon them at a great speed, and they were only just getting under way again. It was too late.
The sharp prow of Kemosiri’s galley struck the rear end of their ship. There was a splintering crash and the entire hull shuddered as the ram from the other ship drove into their rear; the prow had smashed through the rear panel of their vessel and buried itself deep into their own. The shock of the collision brought them all to their knees. Kazim was tossed onto the deck; Panhsj seized him and pushed him to the front rail, too concerned to do more than snap at the boy to stay there. Before the crashing and splintering sounds had stopped, men were leaping across the gap and attempting to climb onto their deck.
Khalidah gasped, “Jasmine!”
Talon hastily pushed her towards the steps and without looking to see if she had gone, turned and slashed down on the arm of a large bearded man with bad acne scars who was about to climb onto the deck. He fell back with a shriek, his arm spouting blood. But other yelling and screaming intruders had managed to make it to the deck. A vicious fight broke out as Malek, Talon and Panhsj fought them, screaming into their faces as they stabbed and slashed at the boarders.
Then there was another shudder; at a shouted command from Kemosiri’s galley, its oars reversed and began rising and falling very fast, so that the ship drew back and extracted its ram from their ship with another splintering crash. It began to move forward again to close on their starboard side with the clear intent of boarding them.
Talon could see the man called Kemosiri calmly giving orders and the crew running to obey. There were not as many men on this ship as had been on the other, but easily enough to overwhelm them if they came aboard in one mob, which was obviously their intent.
Talon could not use his bow, as the men on the deck were swinging wildly at one another and it would have been fatal to pause and try to get off an arrow. Malek and Panhsj fought like tigers alongside him, and the survivors of the first wave were overcome and killed. It became chillingly clear to Talon that Kemosiri did not value the lives of his men at all. Otherwise he would not have pulled away to leave them to the tender mercies of the defenders. There were bodies piled against the rail, and the deck was red and slippery with their blood.
The men paused to take stock. Malek had taken a nick and Panhsj was cut on the forearm, as was Talon. Mail could take a sword slash but it left a bruise, while sharp knives could penetrate and kill. Fortunately, other than two of their own men dead and one wounded, they had survived. Henry gripped a sword that was bloodied. He had defended the steersmen fiercely during the melee. There was no time to lose, as Kemosiri’s vessel was now moving alongside and had knocked some of their own oars aside in the process. Talon realized that Max must have seen what was about to happen and had again ordered their oars to be brought in.
Leaving Henry and Panhsj on the after deck to defend Kazim, and a couple of men to help guard the steersmen, Malek and Talon rushed down the steps to join their own men, who were now groupe
d on the starboard side either shooting arrows as the new attackers or brandishing spears threateningly and howling battle cries.
Grapples flew through the air to land with thuds on deck or to grab at the sides. Men hacked furiously with their blades at the ropes that held them, but more came. The enemy followed in a screaming rush. Talon felt this would surely overwhelm them, there seemed to be so many. Men flew across the gap clutching ropes, or charged recklessly across the remaining space between the ships, to hack and kill as soon as they landed.
Kemosiri was in the van and immediately began to demonstrate his skill with the sword as he dismembered three men in as few seconds. Men shrank away from him as he led a charge towards the rear. Talon found himself being pushed back towards the wall of the cabin by a mob of shrieking, bearded men who bayed like wolves scenting the kill. He and the men with him fought savagely, giving and taking no quarter, but they could not hold back the mob of Kemosiri’s men, who scented blood and pressed in on them, thrusting and hacking at them with spears and swords. His sword arm began to tire and his shield arm felt bruised from all the strikes he had fended off. More than one spear went under his guard to strike his mail shirt in bruising thrusts, but none had penetrated as yet.
He noticed with growing alarm that in this close quarter fight they were losing men faster than the enemy, who were steadily gaining on them. Pushed hard against the wall he could not see what was going on, and he lost sight of Kemosiri for a moment. In spite of the din of clashing steel and the shrieks of wounded and dying men, he heard the sound of swords striking above him and despaired. He blocked a savage spear thrust to his stomach and with a yell stabbed his sword into the throat of his attacker.
“They are on the rear deck, Malek, we cannot hold them!” he shouted to Malek, who was fighting nearby.
Malek hacked down on a man in front of him, cutting deep into the shoulder. The man screamed and fell, his wound spouting blood. Malek glanced at Talon.
“Then God has deserted us, my friend, so we shall die here. I did not wish to see it end this way,” he gasped, blood running down his face from a small wound.
Talon looked around for Max, fearing that he might have gone down, but he was right next to him, his arm pumping furiously like a piston, stabbing at the enemy who crowded in on them; men fell whenever his sword reached.
Then they heard a blood-chilling roar from behind their attackers that turned all heads. From the deep end of the oar deck boiled a wild assortment of yelling men who brandished axes, swords and other hastily obtained weapons. They charged into the rear of the struggling body of men at the base of the rear deck and set about slaughtering the invaders. Axes and swords rose and fell as the berserk rowers attacked the enemy fighters from the rear.
Kemosiri’s men were caught utterly by surprise and began to fall away as the newcomers’ attack took immediate effect. Some of the enemy began to see they were trapped between the two forces and tried to get back onto their own boat. They scrambled over the side of the ship, but many were chased and hacked down by the men from the lower deck. A black man, screaming incoherently and stabbing at anything in his path, drove through the remnants of the invaders and very nearly plunged his spear into Talon, who managed to jump out of the way with a yell of surprise. The man’s spear drove into the wall with a thud. Talon tapped him on the shoulder and Malek laughed, helped pull the spear out, and then pointed the man at the other ship.
“There, go and kill them, my friend. They are the ones you want.”
The wild-eyed man rushed off screaming a battle cry to join in the slaughter of the luckless ones from the Kemosiri’s ship.
Talon turned and ran up the steps to the after deck. He was afraid of what he would find. Henry was still on his feet, although he was bloody, and some of it was his own. His chest heaving he raised his hand and pointed to the other side of the deck. One of the steersmen was dead while another was streaming blood from a wide gash in his arm, but he still stood by the steering oar. On the side opposite Henry was a small group of men still fighting, but the boarders had clearly had lost heart and were now trying to get away. Several jumped overboard.
Panting for breath, Talon glanced around. The two ships had become locked together, and while their crews engaged in fighting they had drifted downstream and were now being pushed by the current against the mass of fibrous vegetation on the reed island. They were in no danger but neither were they going anywhere. He noticed some of the enemy soldiers were trying to flee across the green island of reeds.
He looked for Panhsj and saw him lying in the corner. A pool of blood surrounded him. With his heart in his mouth, Talon pulled him over onto his back. To his immense relief, he saw Panhsj was breathing, but he had a nasty cut across his chest. He had also taken a blow to the head which had knocked him unconscious.
Talon had no time to do anything for his friend. He looked for Kazim but could not see him the deck.
“Where is the boy, Henry?” he called.
Henry pointed at the other ship. “They took him,” he bellowed.
Talon’s eyes flicked feverishly to the ship still entangled alongside. There was no sign of Kazim. Then he saw two men clambering over the far side, clearly with the intent to escape across the floating island to the shore. One of the men held the struggling Kazim. Evidently the boy was testing his patience. The man slapped Kazim hard. Talon watched the two men began to make their way across the matted surface, half carrying a now dazed looking Kazim. They were heading for the tall reeds that were only a few dozen yards away. Once there, they would be completely invisible to the rest of the fighters and could escape unnoticed in their own time.
Talon seized his bow and, holding it high, sprinted across the deck. He took a step onto the side rail and made a flying leap into the air, his arms wind-milling wildly as he flew. It was a long jump that could have landed him in the water, where he might have drowned under the weight of his chain mail. As it was, he just managed to land on the soft edge of the island with a great splash. He felt the surface give and he flung himself forward to sprawl on the matted surface, relieved that he had not gone through it into the river. Wet and muddy but still in possession of his bow, he ran after the two men and Kazim. When he caught up with them they were almost at the wall of tall reeds.
“Stop, Al Muntaqim, or Kemosiri, I don’t care who you are,” he shouted. “You will stop or I shall put an arrow in your evil back!”
The men froze and then turned to face him. Talon was confronted by the man who had caused the death of Khalidah’s husband, and many others. He also recognized the heavy person of Akhom.
“So I was right,” Talon said. He held his bow taut with an arrow notched in place.
“You are the friend of Bahir, and you, you scum, are his former servant.” He nodded at Akhom, who glowered back.
Akhom held Kazim in front of him as he would a hostage. The boy was still dazed from the hard slap he had just received, but he recognized Talon.
“Suleiman, help me!” he screamed.
“Cut his throat if this man does anything!” Kemosiri shouted, staring hard at Talon.
It looked as though he was going to make a try for Talon, thinking he had him neutralized because of the boy.
“Why are you hunting this family?” Talon called out
“Because Abbas, the fool, betrayed his own. The Sultan is a usurper. The throne rightfully belongs to the family of Shawar of the Fatima, from whose family I am descended, and so is his family. The sultan and his uncle are heretics and should be sent to answer for their sins to God. Besides, the Fayoum is the biggest prize in Egypt. Now that the boy’s father is dead, why would I not take it for myself?”
“Did you bribe the eunuch to use that snake?”
“He was easily bribed and greedy for gold.”
“It served him nothing in the end. Bilal cut his head off.”
“I had wondered about that, but the fire started so suddenly I could not tell if he survived or not. N
o matter; he served his purpose.”
“You were a trusted friend of my Lady Khalidah and her children!”
“Sad and true, but the Lady can still be my wife, once I have rid myself of you and the boy.”
“I killed Bahir, so why do you think you can kill me?”
There was a pause as Kemosiri stared at Talon. “So it was you,” he breathed. “Now it makes more sense. I thought it was the Hashashini from the north, but they denied it.”
“Suleiman, don’t let them take me away!” Kazim cried, interrupting them.
“So you are Suleiman. You have made a nuisance of yourself on more than one occasion,” Kemosiri snarled.
“Do you intend to kill the boy?” Talon wanted to test the man.
Kazim, who had been listening with wide eyes, gasped at these words.
“I will in time,” Kemosiri said in a casual manner. “But he is a useful bargaining piece for now.”
Talon marveled at the cold-blooded way in which he discussed the death of the boy in front of him.
Talon noticed the reeds behind the two men shift at their base and wondered if anyone else might be nearby. He had seen some of the men from the ship fleeing into the cane brakes as they tried to escape the fury of their pursuers.
Then they heard a scream. It came from only a short distance to their right. Involuntarily every eye went in that direction. From out of the tall papyrus reeds a man ran, yelling and pointing behind him, while more screams came from the forest of papyrus and cane, which now tossed furiously thirty yards away. There was a shriek and then the cane movement subsided. The first man stumbled off, still yelling, towards the ships.
Talon recovered quicker than Akhom, who failed to use the boy as a shield. An arrow sped towards the man and the boy. It buried itself deep in Akhom’s upper thigh. The man gasped with pain and collapsed onto the wet matting clutching at his wound. He dropped Kazim, who fell on hands and knees and then scrambled hurriedly over the soft thatch towards Talon. Kemosiri snatched at him as he darted by, but missed.
Assassination in Al Qahira Page 40
