Taghri's Prize

by Peter Grant

  Malik Dregat and Princess Gulbahar stepped out onto the deck, and everyone bowed or went down on one knee. The Malik waved his hand dismissively. “No ceremony, please,” he grunted. “It’s too early, and I’m too hungry! Captain, you mentioned something about breakfast?”

  “The cook’s preparing it now, your majesty,” Elhac said, gesturing to the charcoal tray glowing contentedly under a griddle in the center of the ship, clear of the masts and rigging. “Flatbread, dates, olives, artichokes, onions, salted fish soaked overnight to ease the flavor, and ration cheese. It’s not much, but it’s the best we have. I’m afraid we left in such haste that we didn’t have time to load anything more suitable for royal guests.”

  “That’s the least of my worries! We’d all be dead if it wasn’t for you.” The Malik nodded solemnly to Taghri. “What’s this I hear about a raven, warning you to come to our aid?”

  “That’s a long story, your majesty. May I suggest we eat, then talk when our hunger isn’t quite as sharp?”

  “Best idea I’ve heard all morning!”

  The Malik, his daughter, Taghri and Elhac sat on cushions hastily brought to the poop deck, and ate from tin plates with their fingers, heedless of royal dignity. The guards and the sailors huddled happily around the cooks on the main deck. The cooks were kept busy for almost an hour, preparing fresh batches of food for men who hadn’t eaten a proper meal since the previous dawn. Water, tasting a little brackish from its storage barrels, was provided, and thick syrupy coffee made its appearance after a while. The dawn sky brightened into full daylight as they ate and drank.

  At last the Malik put down his plate, sighing contentedly. “There! I feel more like a man now, and less like a dried-out, withered fish!” Everyone laughed. “All right, Taghri. Tell us about this raven.”

  “It began when I rescued your daughter near Alconteral, your majesty. I went to the Temple of Kokat, to ask them about a strange knife I’d found aboard the galley…”

  Taghri explained the sequence of events, including the seer’s prophecy, the raven’s appearance during the raid on Talima and the attack on Quwain, and its second appearance the day after the royal galley’s departure. “I was convinced it was trying to warn me that you were in danger, your majesty, so I set out after you. As it turned out, the warning was correct.”

  “It certainly was! And you say there’s to be one more appearance by this raven?”

  “If the seer was correct, yes, your majesty.”

  “Based on past evidence, she probably was. Well, thank you again, young man. I’ll have to find a more imposing award for you as a token of our gratitude.”

  Princess Gulbahar had been an interested listener so far, her eyes sparkling at Taghri from behind her veil, but saying nothing. Now she sniffed. “I’m sure you can think of a suitable reward if you set your mind to it, father.”

  The Malik glared at her, but she returned his gaze blandly, refusing to be cowed. It was obvious that she and her father had had a spirited discussion – perhaps more than one – since Taghri’s ship had appeared over the horizon the previous morning.

  “Please don’t even consider that yet, your majesty,” he hastened to interject. “We still have to get you safely back to Kalba. Will you be our guests aboard this ship for the journey?”

  “I don’t know yet. I want to go aboard my galley and inspect the work. I was a captain myself, you know, before I became Malik. If I think she needs an escort back to Kalba, I’ll ask you to stand by us during the journey, and I’ll travel with my people. I won’t ask them to face a danger I’m not willing to share.”

  “I understand, your majesty. I heard one of your officers say that they planned to clean up the ship today, and cut away the last of the wreckage of the mast and sail, before refloating her at high tide this evening. They were planning to give everyone a chance to rest today and tonight, and depart tomorrow morning. They have enough oarsmen, with your men and the freed slaves, to row all the way back to Kalba, relieving each other at intervals, with a bucket chain to get rid of the water as it seeps in.”

  “That’s what I thought. We’ll see what the repairs look like.”

  “What about Riad Reis, your majesty? Is he our prisoner, or yours?”

  “Your ship captured him, so he’s yours; but since he was part of a force attacking my ship, he’s Kalba’s concern, too. If you’re willing, I’d like to put him on trial in Kalba and execute him there for piracy, along with his officers.”

  “I don’t mind at all, your majesty. I have another gift for you aboard the galley; the head of Harith Reis. We killed him when we boarded his galley. That will give you the heads of all three of Abu Reis’ sons for your collection.”

  “And very pretty they’ll look over our felon’s gate, too!”

  “Did you pickle it, like Sidi Reis’ head?” Gulbahar asked, amusement in her voice.

  He tried to look solemn as he replied, “Not yet, your highness. We have no pickling spices aboard this ship, or jars large enough to hold it.”

  “I’m sure our cook aboard the galley can empty out a jar of pickled eggs, or onions, or olives, and use its fluid to pickle his head instead. It may smell a little odd, but I don’t think Harith will complain.”

  Their explosion of laughter startled the seabirds circling nearby, looking for scraps of food. They sheered off, screeching their displeasure.

  It took three days for the two ships, traveling slowly, to reach Kalba. The Malik and Princess returned to the royal galley, where their quarters were much more spacious. Taghri and his sadly reduced guard remained aboard the chebec, which provided an armed escort to the galley in case of need – not that they anticipated further trouble from Abu Reis.

  “He’ll be lucky to make port in that ship,” Elhac predicted, “considering how she was wallowing in the storm with her mast down. Unless he cut it free in a hurry, she’d have taken on a lot of water – perhaps too much to bail out.”

  Taghri shook his head. “I’d love to agree with you, but I think that canny old devil won’t let go of life unless he’s forced to. He’s had the luck of shaitan up to now. He may have some left.”

  “Let’s hope it runs out soon, then, sir!”

  Taghri took the opportunity to interrogate Riad Reis and his officers. They were sullen and morose, knowing the fate that awaited them at Kalba.

  “Curse you for an interfering swine!” Reis railed at Taghri. “Sidi was a damned fool to do what he did, and even my father didn’t blame you for killing him; but if you’d just stayed out of this fight, we’d have caught the Princess and avenged him, and made a fortune out of ransoming her father, too. You’ve destroyed us as a family!”

  “Not fully, not yet. I’ll see whether the raven has any ideas about that.”

  Reis looked puzzled, then suddenly alarmed. “Raven? What raven?”

  “Your father stole a sacrificial temple knife from the goddess Kokat, two decades ago, and violated the sisters who were carrying it. I found it aboard your brother’s galley, and returned it to her temple in Alconteral. The seer there told me I’d see a raven three times. I’ve seen it twice so far, once leading me to raid Quwain, and once to show up when you attacked the Malik’s galley. I wonder if the third time will be to deal with your father once and for all?”

  The prisoner looked as if he’d seen a ghost. His face was ashen. “Father was given a prophecy by a blind seer in Balhuf, years ago, before I was born. Ravens would be the end of him, the seer said. He always laughed it off, because there are no ravens in the mountains above Gaidah. I… I wonder…”

  Taghri snorted. “I don’t wonder. I’m sure!”

  When he went back on deck, he told Elhac of his conversation. “Remind me to hire an artist to paint a black raven in flight on each of our sails. If Abu Reis is scared of ravens, let’s give him something to be scared about!”

  “Aye, sir. Oh – there’s one more thing. Riad Reis was carrying a leather satchel filled with gold, silver and bronze coi
ns, and his personal jewelry. I’ve put it all in the chest in your cabin, sir. It should pay for all our repairs after the storm, and death benefits to the families of those we lost, and leave plenty over, sir.”

  “Good. I found another satchel like it in Harith Reis’ cabin, which we’ll use for the ship as well, and to pay prize money to the crew. I get the impression Abu Reis’ sons carried their personal loot with them wherever they went. Perhaps they didn’t trust their father not to steal it while they were away from home.”

  Elhac sniffed. “Knowing his reputation, sir, they were probably right to fear that.”

  Their arrival in Kalba sparked a city-wide celebration. The sight of the mastless, clearly damaged Royal Galley approaching the harbor brought out every worker on the waterfront, and from seaward Taghri could see people running down the streets towards the port as word spread. By the time the galley tied up in its berth of honor, well over a thousand people had gathered. He couldn’t hear what the Malik said to them as he stood at the head of the gangplank, but the crowd turned as one to look at the chebec as it eased up to the quay behind the galley. As the mooring lines were tossed across, many in the crowd ran to greet the smaller sailing ship, cheering loudly.

  Elhac made sure the vessel was securely moored, then the crew lined the rail, chatting cheerfully with the excited onlookers and answering their questions. The cannon attracted a lot of attention, being the first those in the port had seen mounted on a sailing ship, due to the inability of traditional sewn construction to stand up to their recoil.

  “Did you notice the damage our guns did to the pirate galleys, sir?” Prasad asked Taghri as they waited for officials to arrive.

  “I did. I saw on the first and second ships that our cannonballs went right through her stern and bow planking as if it wasn’t there. I was worried that a small cannon like a nine-pounder wouldn’t perform as well as the bigger eighteen- and twenty-four-pounders we’re used to seeing on a galley’s bow, but they did.”

  “That’s partly because we were at such short range, sir. At a distance of a few hundred yards, it would have been much harder to be accurate, and our cannonballs might have bounced off rather than penetrated. Elhac made the job much easier for us by getting in so close. Even so, for future reference, I’d like to have twelve-pounder cannon instead. They fire a ball a full third heavier than our nine-pounders. It’ll penetrate better. We couldn’t go bigger than twelves on a small ship like this, but I think she could stand up to their recoil.”

  “The shipyard said she could carry up to eight nines per side. How many twelves would fit in the same space?”

  “For greater ease of movement, I’d suggest six, sir, offsetting them from one another on either side of the deck to give them more room to recoil. The weight of shot, seventy-two pounds in all, would be the same from a broadside of six twelves or eight nines, but your gun crews would have more room to move around, and wouldn’t get in each other’s way so much. You wouldn’t need as many gunners, either, and the seamen would have more room around the cannon to adjust the sails.”

  Taghri nodded slowly. “All you say makes sense. I’m thinking about converting her to a fighting ship, all guns and no cargo, for another raid I have in mind. What would a change to six twelve-pounders a side cost me?”

  “I’d suggest keeping the existing nine-pounder bow and stern chasers, sir; adding more weight in those areas wouldn’t be a good idea. Twelve twelve-pounders, at about twenty-five diracs each, would come to three hundred diracs for the guns, their carriages and tools. You could trade in your nine-pounders for about half that price per gun, or you could use them on other ships if you bought or built more chebecs like this one. Modifying the ship for the larger cannon, including new bulwarks, gunports and lashings, would cost another fifty diracs or so.”

  “If we go to twelve-pounders, should we change the rig as well?”

  Prasad nodded vigorously. “Yes, sir, if possible. On a small vessel like this, I’d suggest a gaff rig on the mizzenmast and foremast. It’s close enough to her present lateen rig that her sailors could master it quickly, and it would be the right size and balance for her hull. You could use another on the mainmast, but it might be tall enough to use square sails. They’re more complex to handle than a gaff rig, and need more sailors to manage them, but their advantages offset that.”

  “I presume the Lakibi shipyard that built her could make the changes?”

  “Yes, sir, but you’ll do better to send her over to Sarut. That’s my home town in the Feringhi lands, about four hundred parasangs across the Great Bay. It’s a long journey, but worth it, because the city has lots of shipbuilders. My family runs a shipyard. They can do the job, and I guarantee they’ll charge a fair price and deliver quality work, sir. What’s more, they’ve built ships with gaff and square rigs before. The Lakibi shipyard understands the theory, but hasn’t built any yet. I also know the foundry in Sarut that made these cannon. I can negotiate better prices for you on bigger ones.”

  “You make a good case. What brought you all this way from home, anyway?”

  “The shipyard at Lakibi bought cannon from Sarut to mount in a couple of galleys and this ship, sir. I’d learned the trade of gunner there, and knew how to rig gunports for cannon through the bulwarks of a ship. They hired me to show them how to set up this chebec’s guns, sir, and a shipwright from my family yard to teach them nail-and-peg construction methods.”

  “I’m very glad they did. You’ve proved your skills more than amply. There’ll be a nice bonus for you at our next payday.”

  “Thank you, sir!”

  Taghri summoned Elhac with a look. “What repairs do you need to make after the storm? I’m thinking of sending you across the Great Bay to Sarut.”

  Elhac whistled softly. “That’s a long run, sir, and there’s a good chance of more winter storms. I’d want to go over the standing rigging with a fine-tooth comb. It took a real pounding when we fell into the trough of that big wave. I’m sure some has stretched to the point it needs to be re-rove. She’ll need a new foresail and boom, too, and perhaps a new foremast. What would we do at Sarut, sir?”

  Taghri explained what he’d been discussing with Prasad. “You’ll supervise the work, then test her out on the journey home. You’ll have to press them hard to finish the job as fast as possible. I want her back here, ready to fight, by the first month in spring.”

  The skipper nodded, grinning. “Are you planning to take on more of Abu Reis’ galleys, sir?”

  “I’m thinking of another raid. I won’t say more than that yet. It’s a lot of work to do in a short time – maybe three months for everything, including the two-way journey. Think you can do it?”

  “If the winds are favorable both ways, sir, and if Prasad will drive his family and their workers, and if you’re willing to pay for it all, we can do it. It’ll be very tight, though.”

  “I’ll tell you my decision by tomorrow morning. Don’t say anything to the crew until then.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “I need something else from you, as quickly as possible.” He described what he wanted. “Can you prepare that for me without telling anyone else what you’re doing?”

  “Yes, sir, although it would help if I could ask a couple of others who were there to assist me.”

  “As long as they keep their mouths shut. Our lives will depend on that.”

  “Aye, sir. I’ll choose them very carefully, and make sure they understand that.”

  “All right.” Taghri nodded to the quayside. “Here come the officials. As soon as we’ve dealt with all the formalities, give the crew a couple of days ashore, with enough money to enjoy themselves, and hire a shipyard to start work on your repairs. Tell them to work fast.”

  That night, Malik Dregat and his wife, the Royal Consort Adila, invited Taghri to a private supper in their chambers. They allowed Gulbahar to attend as well, which surprised Taghri, and made him hopeful. Sure enough, as soon as the meal was over and the se
rvants dismissed, the Malik had good news for them both.

  “I know I made it clear to both of you that affairs of state come before love when considering royal marriages,” he began. “However, since then, Taghri, you’ve saved my daughter’s life a second time, and mine as well. I simply can’t take that position any longer when it comes to your feelings for each other. I owe you too much. If you want to marry Gulbahar, and she you, then I won’t stand in your way. However, you both have more to learn about each other before you can be sure of your feelings, and we have to consider how to accomplish this. Don’t be too obvious or move too fast.”

  Taghri felt an overwhelming rush of relief. He had to restrain himself from jumping to his feet, running over to Gulbahar, and sweeping her into his arms. “Thank you very much, your majesty,” he said with all the gratitude he could muster. “I know how difficult a decision this must have been for you.”

  Gulbahar appeared less impressed. “Thank you, father, but wouldn’t things have been much simpler if you’d just said yes from the beginning?”

  Her father frowned, and her mother opened her mouth as if to speak, but Taghri forestalled them. “Gulbahar, you know how I feel about you. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world, but what you just said was completely wrong.”

  “Wrong? How?” She looked outraged to find he didn’t agree with her.

  “Dearest,” and she blushed suddenly to hear the endearment, “imagine you’re sitting in your father’s chair over there right now, with me in your mother’s chair as your Royal Consort. Imagine our son or daughter,” another blush, “sitting in your chair. You’re now the Malika of Kalba, in your father’s stead, hearing our young, obstreperous child object to you doing what’s best for your kingdom. How are you going to make her understand?”

  Gulbahar’s mouth hung open as she stared at him. She’d obviously never even thought about their relationship from that perspective. Taghri pressed his advantage. “I’m very grateful to your father and mother for allowing us to explore this; but you must recognize it’s a two-edged sword. Your father will have to justify his decision to other rulers. Many are looking for marriages for their sons. They’ll regard you as a top prize in that contest – a future Malika, no less. If we marry, they’ll all be disappointed, and resentful too. I, a commoner, will have ‘stolen’ you from their more deserving royal sons, as they see it; and they’ll blame your father for agreeing to that.”