Taghri's Prize

by Peter Grant

  “Wait here.” The priest re-wrapped the knife and handed it to him.

  He returned in a few minutes, bearing a parchment scroll sealed with the Temple’s crest on silver wax. “Here you are, my son. I suggest you do not delay long in returning it.”

  “I’ll do that as soon as I can. Thank you, Kahin.”

  He slid the knife back into his sash, and tucked the scroll inside his shirt as he walked back to the antechamber of the Temple. Hadi was waiting, as he had promised.

  “How many guards do you need, sir, and for what sort of work?” the former sergeant-major asked.

  “I’ve just arrived in the city. I don’t have a home yet, but I plan to buy one. I need one or two guards to go with me about the city, protecting my goods and my back, and a couple more to protect my home. They won’t be for show, either. I don’t just have to worry about thieves, but possible revenge by Abu Reis after I killed his son. They may earn their pay the hard way.”

  Hadi nodded soberly. “He has that reputation, sir.”

  “Yes. I have some ideas about business, and if they work out, I’ll need more people over time. I’ll also need trusted staff for my home, to look after cooking, cleaning, the horses and stables, and so on. I won’t have time to do everything myself, so I want someone to handle my guard and my personal staff, and another to look after the domestic side of my household. A retired sergeant-major sounds like just the man I need. Are you interested?”

  Hadi looked nonplussed. “Ah… sir, I don’t know that I’d be the right man for you. I can’t run much anymore,” gesturing at his peg-leg, “or even walk too far without discomfort, so I can’t serve as a guard. If I can’t do that job myself, I won’t have the respect of those who can.”

  “Sergeant-major, don’t be silly! You held down one of the toughest jobs in the Army, which is ample proof of your judgment of men, and your ability to run the day-to-day affairs of the regiment. Your courage is beyond question – your awards prove that.” He hesitated a moment. “I don’t want to pry, but you said you had to pawn your awards. What happened?”

  Hadi sighed. “My youngest son was aboard a ship taken by pirates last year off the Khisaf peninsula. It cost everything we had to ransom him – we even had to sell our home. My wife is living with her sister now, while I try to earn whatever I can by helping at the Temple and doing other small jobs here and there.”

  “I understand. I’d have done the same, were I you. I need someone to manage my staff and general affairs. As a troop and squadron commander, I grew used to relying on a senior sergeant or sergeant-major for advice and support, and I see no reason to change that. You don’t have to do everything yourself; you have to use your experience and good judgment to hire others who’ll do it, then keep them up to the standards you and I require. Why don’t we try working together, and see how we do? I’ll match the Army pay for your rank – five silver staters every week – and offer you housing and board besides. If your wife is willing, and you think she can do it, she can help set up my household until it grows too big, or I hire someone to do that full-time. I’ll pay her the rate for the job, and hire domestic staff as needed. What d’you say?”

  Hadi was almost speechless for a moment. “I… Sir, you’re an answer to prayer, truly you are. I’ll serve you, sir, and do my best to satisfy you.”

  “Good man.” They clasped wrists again to seal the bargain. “I’ll give you a month’s pay in advance, plus two gold diracs.” He reached for the purse at his belt. “Use them to get your arm rings out of pawn. I want you to wear them while on duty. That’ll also help you deal with any prospective guards who aren’t sure about you. They’ll speak for you, without words being needed.”

  “Th – thank you, sir.”

  “Within a few days, we’ll arrange a place for you to live. Now, what about these five men?” He gestured towards those waiting by the western wall. “Any of them any good?”

  “They’re all good men, sir.”

  Hadi called and gestured. The five men looked up, startled, and hurried over. Two of them limped, one badly, one less so. He told them, “You’ll have heard of Ra'id Taghri by now.” They all nodded, eyeing Taghri warily. “He’s just arrived in the city. He needs guards and support staff. I’m going to work for him, running all that. I know you, and you know me. Are you interested?”

  “Aye, sergeant-major!” “Yes!” “Indeed I am!” Their replies rose eagerly over each other.

  Hadi glanced at Taghri. “Sir?”

  “I need good men,” he told them. “I expect you to be loyal and work hard. Also, there may be added danger after I killed Sidi Reis yesterday. His father will want revenge. If that doesn’t scare you, I can use you. I’ll pay at army rates for the job, with bonuses for good work. I’ll provide equipment and uniforms or work clothes, quarters for those who need them, or an allowance for those who don’t. All right?”

  Another chorus of agreement.

  Hadi said, “Sir, Riaz took a bad leg wound in combat. He can’t walk far or fast, but he’s a trained armorer. He knows his business.”

  “An armorer mostly works in one place, so his leg won’t slow him down too much. What weapons did you work on, Riaz?” Taghri asked.

  The other man snapped to attention. “All the usual blade weapons, sir, plus crossbows. Sometimes I helped to clean arquebuses, but didn’t use them or learn how they worked.”

  “Handguns?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Are you willing to learn? I’ll equip my guards with handguns in due course, as well as crossbows and slings for those who can use them.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Very well, you’re hired as armorer. Next, sergeant-major?”

  “Sir, Sadiq also took a leg wound, ending his service. He can’t walk for very long, but he can ride well. He was a corporal in the cavalry. I recommend him to look after your horses. As you hire more people, he can train them to ride, and teach them to fight on horseback, too.”

  “Want the job, Sadiq?”

  “Yes, please, sir!”

  “All right, we’ll see how you work out. We’ll hire an ostler and a couple of stable boys in due course, to do the dirty work for you.”

  “Thankee, sir!”

  Hadi pointed to the other three in turn. “Fado was infantry. He served five years, made it to corporal, then lost his rank over a fight with a sergeant. He didn’t re-enlist after that, but he’s learned from his mistake, sir. I’d trust him to guard my back. Wanat did ten years in the local militia. He hasn’t seen combat, but he’s steady, and good with a sword and dagger. He still has contacts in the Thieves Guild from his patrol days. They may be able to warn us about Abu Reis’s plans, if he makes any. Ferrer’s a slinger from the Balric Isles, and skilled with throwing knives as well. He served five years in their coast patrol, then five more in the harbor guard here, dealing with smugglers and cargo thieves. He knows the waterfront well.”

  “Very well. You’re all hired for at least three months, provided you make good. At the end of that time, if all goes well, we’ll make it permanent.” As they eagerly agreed, he reached for his purse again. “You’ll all earn a silver stater per week, plus room and board. I’m sure you’ll have expenses to begin with, so here’s two staters each.

  “Sergeant-major, here’s five gold diracs. Take these men to a decent clothier, and get uniforms for everyone, including you. Choose simple, hard-wearing clothes, but they must be smart, too. I think black boots and belts, dark blue shalwars and cloaks, red sashes, and light blue or white shirts and ghutras will do for now. Get three of everything for everyone, plus stockings and underwear. They’ll wear one set and have another ready, while the third is being washed. We’ll design something better when we have more time. Also, since we’re in a city, long swords or scimitars won’t be as easy to use in crowded quarters as a shorter blade, so buy everyone a short sword and dagger of good quality. Make sure they know how to use them. The guards are to wear them at all times while on dut
y.”

  “Aye, sir!”

  “While you’re doing that, I’ve got clothes to buy, too. All of you are to meet me at the Peacock Inn at sunset. I’ll arrange temporary quarters for those who need them. The guards will start work at once, standing sentry outside my room day and night. One of them will accompany me to the Governor’s palace tomorrow morning. We’ll work out the rest as we go along.”

  3

  The palace major-domo greeted Taghri with a respectful bow. “Word of your courage has preceded you, Ra'id. Is this man yours?” He gestured to the armed guard behind him.

  “Yes, Wanat is my guard.”

  “It is forbidden to bring weapons into the audience chamber, Ra'id. You can either leave them at the desk over there, or give them to your guard to keep until your return.”

  “I’ll give them to my guard, then.” He loosened the sash around his waist, took off the belt beneath it holding his purse and the scabbards of his scimitar and dagger, and handed them to Wanat.

  “Thank you, Ra'id. Guard, please wait in that room with the other visitors’ guards and body servants. Ghalip! Escort the Ra'id to the audience chamber.”

  “At once, sir!” Another servant hurried forward. “This way, please, Ra'id.”

  Taghri thought about protesting the continued use of his former rank, but decided to leave it lie for the present. He refastened his sash as he followed the servant down a long corridor, walls lined with marble, polished tiles on the floor. The servant halted before a set of double doors, guarded by two armed men. “This is the audience chamber, Ra'id.” He nodded towards a full-length mirror set to one side. “You may wish to adjust your clothing before entering.”

  “Thank you.”

  Taghri looked his reflection up and down. He had to admit, whilst Tawfic’s prices were every bit as high as the inn’s landlord had predicted, the clothes he offered were the finest he’d ever seen outside a nobleman’s palace. He had purchased soft new calf-high boots in deep burgundy leather. White silk shalwar trousers were tucked into them, covered by a knee-length kameez tunic in the same fabric, colored to match his boots. A white silk sash spanned his waist, and a white silk ghutrah covered his head, secured by a red braided satin band. Topping it all was a formal bhist robe, woven from the softest, lightest wool, pure white in color with a gold border. It was a little too heavy for the summer’s heat, but he wore it loosely clasped at the neck, to allow the air to flow through. It hid the gold arm ring, awarded for courage in battle, that was clasped around his upper left arm, with two bronze and two silver rosettes fastened around it to show lesser awards.

  He smiled as he remembered his guards’ reaction to his finery. They had stepped back in unison when he’d emerged from his room that morning, reeling, exclaiming, covering their eyes as if blinded with splendor. He’d had to laugh at their impudence. He was already coming to like them.

  A dozen men were waiting in the audience chamber, some so richly dressed that they had to be nobles or wealthy merchants, the rest in plainer garb. Taghri was suddenly pleased that he had insisted on the finest quality clothing, but without extravagant decoration and not too opulent. He looked smart, but not in an ostentatious or even vulgar way, unlike some of the others in the room.

  Promptly at the ninth hour, a herald tapped his staff on a wood block laid on the marble floor. “His Excellency Hamid Bousaid, Governor of Shuwaib Province in the name of Sultan Ghalib, ruler of Samha, may the gods bless his reign!” Everybody bowed as two guards entered the room from a set of double doors at its rear, taking up their positions on either side. Two more followed them, leading two scribes and two messengers. A tall, hawk-faced man walked behind them, wearing an ornately decorated robe and carrying the carved, ivory-inlaid, gold-tipped staff signifying his authority as Governor.

  The procession crossed to a raised dais in front of the doors. The servants took their places on either side of it, while the Governor stepped on to it and took his seat in a large, solidly-built stone chair, carved with the figures of real and mythical beasts. The two guards followed him, standing on either side of the chair, which was provided with several luxurious cushions. Taghri smothered a grin as he and the others straightened up. Clearly, the gubernatorial backside had to be protected from the cold, hard stone. He mentally cautioned himself not to allow his irreverent attitude towards higher authority to show outwardly. As a newcomer to the city, even one in good odor with the authorities at present, that would be unwise.

  The herald accepted a written list from one of the scribes, and cleared his throat. “This morning’s audience is begun! The first order of business is the raid on a caravan approaching this city, two days ago. Let Ra'id Taghri step forward!”

  Taghri walked to the edge of the dais, and bowed formally to the man seated in it. Best make things clear, right from the start, he thought as he straightened his back, and said, “Your Excellency, I am Ra’id Taghri, but my rank should no longer be used. My service with the Army came to an end last month.”

  The Governor studied him with piercing, intelligent, assessing eyes. This man was no fool, Taghri realized with a start. He’d grown accustomed to many senior administrative positions in the Sultanate being filled by those with money or influence, but Hamid Bousaid was clearly more than just a political placeholder.

  “I understand,” the Governor replied. “Nevertheless, it’s an honorable rank and title, which you bore with courage in the Sultan’s service, so you’re entitled to continue using it until you earn a superior one. You’ve added lustre to your military reputation – which I understand was already considerable – by your actions in defense of the caravan, and by capturing the raiders’ ship and freeing its slaves, as well as a very important prisoner. You did very well.”

  “I thank Your Excellency for your kind words.”

  “No, it is I who thank you, on behalf of the Sultan. The merchants whose goods you protected so ably have taken up a collection among themselves to reward you, and I’ve doubled it from the provincial treasury as a gesture of official gratitude. Here is a purse of thirty diracs.”

  He gestured to one of the servants, who hurried to the chair and knelt before it, offering a tray. The Governor took a leather purse from it as Taghri bowed again, his mind racing. This was a large gift, very useful in itself; but he might be able to use it in a way that cemented his position in this city, and created an opening to earn even greater riches in future.

  “I thank Your Excellency, and the merchants of the caravan. However, the Princess Gulbahar of Kalba was robbed of all her possessions by the raiders. The freed slaves told me they sold them all at Quwain, along with most of their other loot, a few days before they attacked the caravan.” And very useful that was, he thought with an inward grin. It gave Sidi Reis the money I later took from him. “It is not right that so important a visitor should be unable to support herself until she can return home. I therefore respectfully request that this purse be given to her, to use as she sees fit.”

  There was a rumble of surprise from the others in the room. The Governor’s eyebrows rose. “That is very generous of you. Are you sure you want nothing of this for yourself?”

  “Your Excellency, I captured enough from the raiders to meet my needs in the short term.” Don’t tell him how much, Taghri mentally cautioned himself, or he might want some in taxes! “It would be ungentlemanly to leave a lady in need, particularly one whose father is ruler of a city-state that is friendly to the Sultanate. If I understand Kalba’s laws correctly, she’ll succeed to his throne one day. By helping her, we can ensure that her memories of her stay with us are as pleasant as possible. That will help to foster good relations between this city and Kalba in future.”

  There was a brief silence as the Governor studied him intently. At last his face broke into a smile. “I am not accustomed to hearing petitioners at my audiences put the nation’s and the city’s interests ahead of their own, or be so generous. I shall convey this purse to the Princess, and inform her
that it comes from you. I thank you, in the name of the Sultan, for your concern for our good relations with a friendly state. If you will not accept our gold, how else should we reward you?”

  Taghri bowed again. “No reward is necessary, your Excellency. I merely did what needed to be done. I am glad to have been of service.”

  “Why did you leave the Army? What do you intend to do in Alconteral?”

  “Your Excellency. I could rise no further in rank, not being of noble blood, and I did not wish to remain a squadron commander for the rest of my life. I understand that commerce is thriving in this city and province, so I thought to seek new opportunities here.” It also got me away from the capital, Mulala, he thought, where there are far too many people, all grasping at every opportunity, and backstabbing each other at every turn. I’ll do better here in Alconteral, where I can grow into a bigger fish in a smaller pond.

  “I am glad you did. You arrived just in time to be of great service to us. I am sure your courage and initiative will open doors for you. However, the security of our trade routes is threatened. As a former military officer, what is your opinion of the attack on the caravan? They are happening more often as commerce increases, and our garrison is not sufficient to provide adequate patrols or escort detachments. The Army says it cannot provide additional troops, due to threats in other areas, and the Treasury has denied my requests for additional funds for security, advising that we must raise what we need from local resources. Have you any suggestions?”

  “Your Excellency, may I respectfully suggest that this should be discussed in private? It would not be good to alert evildoers to possible measures against them.”

  “You speak wisdom. Return to the palace at sunset. You will dine with my family and the Princess Gulbahar, then we shall discuss the matter further.”

  Thank Hobal! Taghri exulted inwardly. Dining with the Governor, and his public acknowledgment that I can be useful to him, will open more doors to me in the city. I’ll have to buy more clothes, though, curse it! I can’t wear the same ones to the palace twice in one day. This is getting expensive!