They allowed the party to go by and watched them for several hundred paces before moving themselves. They hurried to the boys and their horses and mounted up. Then with great care they left the gully and took up the trail to follow the party ahead of them. Talon was satisfied that his group made very little noise as they followed their quarry, but before long they could hear the others. They slowed down and listened to the low murmur of conversation and the tread of hooves ahead of them. The men seemed confident that they were unobserved, oblivious of anyone following them, but Talon and Reza were very watchful. The pursued could become the ambushers with little warning, and they themselves could become victims.
With great caution they trailed the five men ahead of them over the narrow pass and down the slopes to the low plateau beyond. A cluster of mud huts loomed out of the darkness, but it was easy to ride past. The inhabitants were either asleep or were not inclined to challenge anyone riding through at this late hour.
Then Reza gave a low hiss and held up his hand for them to stop. He pointed ahead towards a small group of low, dark tents set some way off the main trail. Their quarry had left the trail and were now riding at a faster pace toward the tents. Some figures emerged from one tent to stand waiting with lamps held high.
Talon and his group rode their horses into the cover of a clump of scrub and low thorn trees. There was not much to be had on this side of the hills, but this would suffice until they knew what was happening.
Talon dismounted, and so did Reza. They handed their reins to the two boys and told them to wait out of sight of both the trail and the tents.
“We will be back in a while. Just keep the horses from making any noise,” Reza told Yosef.
“And be ready to leave in a hurry,” Talon added.
Yosef gave a low chuckle, “Go with God,” was his response.
Bows in hand, they scurried along the narrower trail towards the tents. Their quarry had dismounted and followed the occupants of the tent inside. The dull glow of lamps shone through the material, and from time to time shadows moved about.
As they approached the tented community, Talon looked about him for any signs of animals other than the horses hitched to a rope line. Just behind the tents he discerned a group of what could only be camels clustered together. He touched Reza on the arm to get his attention and pointed. Reza nodded; he had already seen the camels. They changed course and headed towards the animals, being very careful not to make any sound. There were guards on the periphery of the camp, but they were not very attentive. It was an easy thing to slip past them and make their way towards the camel lines.
“How will I recognize the camel?” Talon had asked the old man.
“She has a scab on the left side of her neck. Another camel bit her and drew blood when she was racing. It will not have healed so quickly. You should take these with you, lord.” He had handed Talon a couple of small sweet cakes. “She loves these and will follow you anywhere to have one.”
As they crouched in the scrub forty paces away and down wind from the camels, they searched for the guards who would most certainly be there. It didn’t take long to spot them. Two men were squatting near the camel lines, one at the end nearest the tents and the other right next to one of the camels. Talon breathed a sigh of relief; that had to be Jasmine. All was quiet. None of the animals seemed to have smelled them.
Reza whispered, “We need a diversion. We can’t just walk up and take her.”
“Perhaps we can,” Talon responded, “Wait, they are coming.”
The two of them blended into the darkness and watched. A small group of men had emerged from the tents and was making its way towards the camels. Talon reasoned it had to be Sayf-ul-Mulk coming to check on his master’s prize. Holding lanterns high, the group walked up to the camel lines. Words were exchanged, then one man went up to the camel next to the second sentry. The man reached out to pat her, but the animal snapped at him, making him pull his hand back sharply. He cursed and stood back. They could clearly hear him. “You cursed animal!” He shook his head disgustedly and turned to the others. “Our master wants to keep her and breed her, but I think she should disappear and become meat!”
There was laughter at this and the group returned to the tents, leaving the guards with their charges. Talon and Reza crouched in the bushes near to a palm tree and waited until the guards had settled back down into their habitual squat, then gave them time to doze off.
“It looks like our friend is staying the night,” Talon whispered to Reza.
“What do you want to do about him?” his friend responded.
“One of us should make sure he does not leave this place while the other takes the camel away,” Talon said.
*****
The two sentries never knew what happened. Both were half asleep when their killers came upon them, and then the one nearest the tents was convulsing with a cut throat while the other, Talon’s victim, voided his bowels and was still when his neck was broken with a swift and savage jerk.
Reza, having completed his work, made his way to the tent where he knew Sayf-ul-Mulk would be sleeping. Talon, having checked that it was Jasmine by sliding his hand down her neck and finding the scab, drew out a small cake and slipped it between her eager lips. She grunted with pleasure and then began to follow him as he walked off into the desert in the general direction of the horses, tugging gently on the rope while she padded quietly after him. The other camels paid them scant attention, being preoccupied with their feed or sleepily chewing their cud.
Meanwhile, Reza had cut his way into the tent from the back. He saw that it contained three sleeping men. There was no guard, but he intended to create a situation that would bring them running. He stood silent in the darkness and listened to the breathing of the men lying on mats near the center of the tent. His eyes were searching for something else. He found it without difficulty, and then one other item that he considered important for his plan.
He located Sayf-ul-Mulk easily and disposed of that man efficiently and silently. The only sound was the drumming of Sayf’s heels for a couple of long seconds before the body went still. Reza went to the back of the tent, located the cooking oil, and began to make his preparations. He was several hundred paces away before any alarms went off. One of the sentries had wandered near to the tent and had become suspicious of the smell of smoke and the dull glow from within.
Looking into the tent he was confronted with a wall of smoke and flame that drove him back. He yelled the alarm and rushed back in to drag at the sleeping men, who woke up groggy from sleep, realized their predicament and piled out of the tent. One person, however, didn’t move. Two of them rushed back in to try to rouse their leader. Failing at this, they dragged his limp body out of the tent. Then they saw what had happened and staggered back, aghast. Sayf-ul-Mulk was very dead.
By now the tent was going up in flames and threatening the nearby tents. The majority of the men were fully engaged in saving what they could of their possessions and had no time for anything else. However, one of the guards on the periphery noticed something odd going on just on the edge of the desert.
As Talon was walking Jasmine away, a man ran up to him and called out, “Where are you going with the camel, my friend?”
Talon, who had noticed him coming, called back in a conversational tone. “I am taking her home.”
The man had come very close to Talon by now, his spear held at the ready. “You cannot do this, and as God is my witness, I shall stop you!”
Talon casually handed the rope that led Jasmine to the man. “Here, take it. She is a smelly creature. I can’t abide camels anyway.”
The astonished man forgot himself and took the proffered rope. Reza stepped forward out of the darkness and hammered the pommel of his knife against the man’s temple; he didn’t want any bloodshed to scare the animal. His victim dropped like a stone, and Talon, having retrieved the rope, tugged at Jasmine gently, then led the way off into the desert. Had anyone chosen to l
ook in the right direction, they might have discerned in the distance, right on the edge of the illuminated area, several riders and a camel making their way north along the track towards the hills.
As it was, there was panic among the camel lines as the frightened animals tried to get away from the scorching heat of the fire. This resulted in chaos, as they shambled to their feet and pulled at their ropes, some of which gave way. The freed camels galloped off into the darkness, while those remaining contributed their roars of fear to the general bedlam going on all around them. The villagers were too preoccupied with the fire to notice much else.
Men shouted and rushed for their water skins to drop into the well near the center of the tented village, but that took time, and before long the tent that Reza had set on fire was burning furiously. Another tent close by was showered with sparks and burning material. It wasn’t long before it, too, caught fire. The panicked shouts of the menfolk and the screams of frightened women and children filled the night.
*****
It took several hours of hard riding, and encouragement with sweet cakes to keep Jasmine loping along with them, before they arrived at the gates of the Mardini compound. Allam was awakened by the noise and hastened to investigate the disturbance. The gates were just being opened by the guards when he arrived.
“It is the foreigners, lord. They have brought Jasmine the camel!” they exclaimed excitedly when the doors were opened.
Allam barely recognized Talon and Reza and two of their retainers, as they were muffled up so that only their eyes were visible, but before he could say anything Talon called out to him.
“Take the camel, Allam, and guard her well. We must go!” Without another word he wheeled his horse, and he and his men disappeared into the night, leaving the camel with one of the surprised guards.
Allam, astonished though he was, had the presence of mind to call out, “Close the gates! Quickly now!” The servants hastened to obey, and then he stared hard at the camel. He knew instinctively that it was Jasmine, but he walked up to the restless animal, laboring from the forced march, and ran his hand down her neck to make sure. He nearly choked with emotion as he stroked her warm furry hide, murmuring endearments while trying to get over his amazement.
“Someone go and find some sugar or cakes, and then we must hide her,” he ordered. An eager servant rushed off to do his bidding. “You shall have a room in my house all to yourself, my darling,” he told the impassive animal. Having recognized him, she began to calm down and gurgle quietly. A servant rushed up and handed Allam some pieces of cake, which he fed to Jasmine. She slobbered over the food contentedly.
“Allah be praised. You are safe now, my lovely. Perfectly safe, you are home,” he crooned.
*****
Najem woke at dawn to shouts and loud banging on the gates of the fortress. As he raised his head, he disturbed something on the cushion where his head had been. He started in horror as though it were a snake lying there. With a gasp he threw himself off the bed to stand trembling with shock, staring back at a long slim knife embedded in the cushion, piercing a scrap of paper. After a long moment of fearful inaction he reached for the knife with a trembling hand, pulled it out, then drew the paper off its blade. Lifting it up he read the following short sentence: An eye for an eye.
The banging outside stopped, but now men were rushing up the stairs towards his chambers. The sound of running feet and men calling to one another was loud and urgent.
There was a peremptory knock on the door to his chamber, to which he barely had time to call out “Enter,” before the doors slammed open and men poured into the room. Forgetting all decorum they began to shout in a wild babble of voices. He finally shouted them all down and beckoned to one who had gone off during the night with Sayf-ul-Mulk. He was covered in dust and sweat and looked badly shaken.
“What is it, Sameer? What is this disturbance all about?” Najem demanded, glaring at Sameer, who fell to his knees.
“Lord, we were visited last night by Djins. They... they took the camel. They set a huge fire and several of our men were killed.”
“By God, did you not see who did this?” Najem demanded. His ashen face betrayed his shock. On top of the knife in his pillow and the message, he was almost ready to believe Sameer’s ridiculous tale of Djins.
“Where is Sayf-ul-Mulk?” he demanded, thinking that he might at least get some sense out of his faithful retainer.
“Lord, we found Sayf-ul-Mulk dead.”
“Dead you say? How!”
“He had a knife buried in his right eye!”
Najem felt faint; this was no coincidence. For the first time in his life he was very frightened. “Get me some water!” he croaked. “And then get the rest of these idiots out of my sight.”
He sat down on a low table, paying no attention to the brass tray and cups that he had just dislodged, which tumbled onto the floor with a ringing crash.
The sale began—young girls were there,
Defenseless in their wretchedness,
Whose stifled sobs of deep despair
Revealed their anguish and distress.
—Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Chapter Six
Pate Island
Their ship had been following the coast of Africa for almost a week, standing out to sea with the land just in sight, when the thin outline of the last string of islands abruptly disappeared, leaving a wide gap. Talon, who had become used to their presence, was apprehensive, but the captain looked pleased.
“We have almost arrived,” he stated with satisfaction. He glanced up at the sun, and then forward at the two ships ahead of theirs and said, “We should be changing course soon.”
When Talon looked puzzled, he waved towards the West. “We will soon change course and sail due west. The wind will allow us to do this for some four hours or more, after which the wind will change direction completely and come from the land. We need to be in port by then.”
He shouted to the crew and sent them scurrying along the deck to haul in the sails. The ship heeled slightly as it came round, and before long they were heading directly towards the coast. Soon the land on their right re-emerged over the horizon, but now to their starboard side.
*****
A few weeks before, Captain Dandachi had put the craft through some maneuvers when they first sailed on a test run near Muscat and had pronounced the ship a well-balanced craft. He’d seemed pleased, although he had maintained his habitual frown, made more forbidding by his dense, graying beard. He’d had the crew move some of the ballast stones about to balance the ship and to provide a little more lift to the bows, but there had been no need for significant adjustments.
“We need a name for this ship, Master Talon,” he’d said, looking with pride back at the vessel as they landed on shore.
“El Bakhar El Nasir,” Talon told him. Sea Eagle.
The captain nodded his head. “It is not a traditional name, but it is a good one. She flies like an eagle of the sea. I shall have the name carved and placed on the bows.”
So the name was given.
Both Talon and the captain had followed a grizzled old crewman called Waqqas around below decks on a slow but concentrated search for leaks. Waqqas had held the lantern high against the sides and alongside the stitched strakes to check for seepage. While they had discovered several, both the crewman and the captain had dismissed them as normal, saying they would seal themselves eventually. They found only one leak that caused concern, and the captain informed Talon that when they were back at the shipyards he would have that remedied.
Talon had been impressed with how maneuverable the ship was both in port and at sea; it needed only a skeleton crew on board.
On the voyage, the captain had used the following wind to full advantage, so that all three triangular sails were taut and full-bellied, pulling them along directly ahead. The new ship seemed to race through the seas as it followed the other two large ships, with the brothers Mardini leading t
he way south towards the port town of Pate situated off the coast of the great land mass of Africa.
There had been one mysterious item the captain had persuaded Talon to purchase. Just before they sailed, three camels had arrived, laden with round earthenware pots about the size of honey melons. The neck of each small pot was stoppered with wax, and the crew were told to handle each one very carefully as they made a human chain and brought them aboard. The captain paid off the camel drover with coin that Talon had provided, and then came back on board the ship.
Talon was very curious about what the pots might contain. “They are our only real weapon against pirates, Master Talon,” the captain told him. He showed one to Talon and Reza, handling it very carefully. “This is oil that burns on the sea when set alight. A single one can burn a ship to the water if it is used properly.”
Talon registered surprise. “Greek Fire!” he exclaimed in astonishment.
“You know of this?” the captain asked him. “I believe it came from the people of Roms originally, but now it is used widely by our merchant people. Master Boulos told me to provide you with some. Pirates infest the coasts of Al Zanj and Al Hind.”
Talon had spent the next few minutes explaining to Reza the devastating effects of the strange oil. He looked at the pots speculatively. They were for throwing, he surmised, but they needed something to set them alight. He would have to ask the captain how that was done.
*****
Talon noticed that the leading ships had already changed course as they themselves moved towards the West. The change of direction brought the women onto the deck with Reza, who had been below. Talon waved them up onto the rear deck and told them what was happening.
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