Taghri's Prize

by Peter Grant

  “They will indeed,” Dregat said with feeling. “Taghri, I’m glad you see the problem so clearly. Daughter mine, he’s right. This will take careful handling, so as not to offend rulers and kingdoms that I cannot afford to offend.” He said the last six words slowly, carefully, with great emphasis.

  “I… I see,” Gulbahar said slowly. “I hate having to admit that I’m wrong, but… I’m sorry, father. Taghri, how old are you?”

  “Twenty-seven.”

  “And I’m only nineteen. I begin to think that I’m going to need your wisdom, as well as your love, when my time comes to ascend my father’s throne. Thank you for opening my eyes.”

  He smiled at her, and she returned it. He felt a thrill of excitement at the glow in her eyes.

  “I thought of creating Taghri an emir of Kalba,” the Malik said, “but he’s not a citizen of this kingdom – at least, not yet. You’ll have to be of that rank, or similar, to marry Kalba’s future Malika, of course.”

  “Of course, your majesty.”

  “Your Sultan might object to one of his subjects being ennobled here. Also, our own nobles, few though they are, might not want an outsider raised to the same status they hold.”

  “May I suggest a different way, your majesty?” Taghri asked.

  “What’s that?”

  “If I were to do something that benefits the entire kingdom of Kalba, not just its Royal House, would that be grounds to show me some special grace or favor?”

  “Yes, I suppose so, but it would have to be something very big to justify ennoblement, followed by my daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  Taghri smiled. “Assume for the moment it will be, your majesty. Will that solve the problem?”

  “In principle, yes. Even other kings, who want Gulbahar for their own sons, can hardly argue that a really major achievement doesn’t merit such a reward.”

  “Then I’m going to see what I can do about it, your majesty.”

  “You’re not planning to mount another raid like you did on Quwain, and use the loot to buy my daughter’s hand, are you?” Dregat sounded both suspicious and amused.

  Taghri laughed. “No, your majesty, although a raid will make a good cover story.”

  Dregat began to smile. “All right. When will whatever-it-is happen?”

  “Within six months, your majesty. I can’t say more than that yet.”

  “Very well. I won’t ask awkward questions. If I can help in any way, you have only to ask.”

  “I’ll certainly need your help, your majesty. May I see you tomorrow afternoon to discuss that, please?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Adila cleared her throat meaningfully. “And now that we’ve settled things this far, darling, I think you and I should retire and leave Taghri and Gulbahar to talk. The major-domo can stand against the wall by the door, to serve as a chaperone. He’ll be too far away to overhear their conversation. I’m sure they have a lot to talk about.”

  Gulbahar flushed. “Thank you, mother.”

  Dregat stood, grinning. “Just make sure your discussions are confined to spoken expressions – although, I must admit, I seem to recall your mother and I managing a few more… ah… interesting exchanges during our courtship.”

  Both Adila and Gulbahar blushed, while Taghri couldn’t help laughing. “I’ll be good, your majesty,” he promised.

  “Ha! Soldiers’ reputations are well-earned, my boy, as are sailors’. I should know, because I was one! ‘Good’ isn’t usually the term associated with them, morally speaking.”

  “Does that mean I can look forward to being as happy and satisfied with my husband as my mother clearly is with hers, father?” Gulbahar teased.

  The Malik glanced helplessly at his wife. “See what your minx of a daughter’s doing?”

  “My daughter? She’s yours, too, you know!”

  Both parents were laughing as they left the room.

  17

  Elhac produced the first fruits of his labors the following morning. Taghri scanned the half-drawn map with intense interest, asking questions and pointing out features. In particular, he noted the depths of water Elhac had indicated along the shore, and grunted in satisfaction.

  “The main thing is, from what you’ve drawn so far, the ground’s fairly flat from here to here, and all around the place?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. It gets steep above the town, of course, particularly below the dam.”

  “All right. Carry on filling in the details. What did the shipyard have to say?”

  “The foremast is sprung, sir. The crack’s too big to be fished, so it’ll need to be replaced. They’ve got a suitable spar in store, and they’re already modifying it to fit. They can do all the work in ten days, they say, although I’ll allow a couple of extra days to make sure it’s done right, and let us test it at sea. They’re quoting forty diracs for the work, sir.”

  Taghri winced. “Ships never seem to stop costing money, do they? Very well. I’ll pay them out of Harith Reis’ funds. Plan to leave for Sarut as soon as you can, and return to Alconteral in about three months from now, by which time I’ll have the other elements of the plan ready to go.”

  “Ah… I don’t know what the plan is yet, sir.”

  “No, and you won’t find out until then – although I’m sure you can guess, if you put your mind to it. Just don’t say anything to anyone.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  “How many passengers and cargo can you take to Sarut, and bring back after the modifications are made there?”

  “Going there, up to a hundred more people, sir, but that’ll rule out carrying cargo, and will be very cramped. Coming back, the holds will have been converted to storage compartments below, and a berthing deck for gunners above. We’ll be able to accommodate our enlarged crew, but no passengers or cargo, sir.”

  “Very well. Where’s Prasad?”

  “He’s checking the gunpowder and shot, sir.”

  Taghri found the gunner tallying up lists of ordnance supplies. “How do they look?” he asked.

  “Low, sir. We’ve been using a lot in practice firing, and then there was the fight, too.”

  “Can local merchants supply what you need?”

  “Some of it, sir. I checked on that yesterday.”

  “Good. Plan to fill the ship with as much as she’ll carry, after allowing for a hundred additional people.”

  Prasad’s eyes grew large with surprise. “A hundred, sir?”

  “Yes. Come up to the foredeck, out of the way of everybody else, and let’s talk where we won’t be overheard.”

  They settled down next to the capstan, enjoying the brisk morning air. Taghri began, “I was impressed by how well our cannon cleared away pirates from the guns of the second ship we fought yesterday, and the poop deck of the third. I didn’t work much with artillery in the army – I commanded a cavalry squadron – so to see what it can do to an enemy was eye-opening.”

  “Yes, sir. They’re starting to call it the ‘King of Battles’ on land, or so I’m told.”

  “I can see why. All the army cannon I’ve seen were drawn by horses or oxen. They were generally big and relatively clumsy. Those aboard this ship seem smaller, lighter and handier by comparison.”

  “The gun tube is much the same size, sir, but the Army uses higher gun carriages with bigger wheels, and limbers for ammunition. Our naval gun carriages are lower, with small wheels.”

  “All right.” Taghri marshaled his thoughts. “I’ve never been happy with arquebuses. They’re very slow to load, they aren’t accurate beyond about fifty or sixty yards at most, and to equip a company with them is very costly. I was wondering whether anyone’s made small cannon, light enough to be handled by soldiers alone, without horses or oxen? I’m thinking of something that seven or eight soldiers could push along next to a group of infantry, and deploy in a hurry to break up an enemy force with grapeshot. A single cannon like that might be more effective than a dozen arquebuses.”


  “I’m a naval gunner, sir, not an army one, but I’ve heard of a cannon like that. They call it a ‘grasshopper gun’, because of the way it jumps and bounces when it’s fired. It’s usually made of bronze – stronger than iron for that purpose, although more expensive, of course – so the cannon can be made lighter and thinner. They’re usually three- or four-pounders, with short barrels of three and a half to four feet and a single-trail carriage, plus rails on either side to allow soldiers to pull them along more easily. They can be taken apart in a matter of seconds, and carried in pieces across rough ground, then reassembled very quickly. The whole gun weighs no more than five hundred pounds.”

  “What about ammunition? If they’re so small, can they still get the job done?”

  “Their ammunition is often one-piece; a cloth bag of gunpowder, then a wooden disk, then a bag holding grapeshot or a small cannonball, all rammed down the barrel as a single unit. That means they can be reloaded very fast. A trained crew can get off five shots a minute, maybe even six, where a nine- or twelve-pounder cannon aboard a ship can manage less than one round a minute. They only have iron grapeshot per round, but they’re still deadly. I hear they can skip the grapeshot off the ground in front of enemy soldiers, to cut the legs out from under them.”

  Taghri winced at the thought. “They’ve proved effective in battle, then?”

  “It depends how they’re used, sir. They’ve worked well against infantry in the open, but aren’t powerful enough to knock down a wall or embankment. As a result, most have been replaced by more powerful six-pounder or larger field guns, drawn by horses. On the other hand, if you only want to deal with soldiers or light buildings, I’m told grasshoppers do well enough.”

  Taghri scratched his chin thoughtfully. “How difficult would it be to train crews for them?”

  “If they’re already trained gunners, sir, they can probably be ready in a week. If they have to learn everything first, it’ll take a lot longer.”

  “What about carrying the ammunition? You mentioned a ‘limber’. What’s that?”

  “It’s a small cart carrying all a cannon needs to fire, sir, including ammunition. A grasshopper is small enough that it can do without one. Each member of the crew can carry a satchel with half a dozen rounds, sir, and divide the tools between them, slung over their backs – swab, rammer, linstock and so on.”

  “Are grasshopper cannon available in Sarut? What do they cost?”

  “I don’t know if they make them at present, sir. Most orders are for bigger guns, and bronze is expensive, so old grasshoppers may have been melted down to re-use the metal. Still, there are probably some stored in the arsenal. I’m pretty sure I can find out, sir, if I ask around – and if I have silver, to help people remember where they are.”

  Taghri grinned. “Isn’t that always the way?”

  “Yes, sir.” They chuckled together. “As for cost, probably ten to fifteen diracs each. They may not be officially for sale, but if they’re in arsenal storage, such things can go missing, for the right sum.”

  “All right. I’m going to approve twelve-pounders for this ship, and I want eight of those grasshopper cannon as well. I’ll give Elhac the funds for them. I’m also going to send you up to a hundred more gunners, some for the cannon on this ship, others to form crews for the grasshoppers. Take them with you to Sarut. Buy all the nine-pounder shot and gunpowder you can here in Kalba, and use the voyage to Sarut to train the newcomers on the chebec’s cannon. That should make it easier for them to switch over to the new cannon once they’re available. When you get there, trade our nine-pounders as part payment for the new twelve-pounders.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Make sure you train our ship’s gunners to hit at longer ranges. Our tactics with naphtha jars and fire arrows worked well the first time we used them, but if Abu Reis got away – as I suspect he did – we can expect him to try the same thing against us next time. We’re going to have to keep far enough away that his slingers can’t reach us, so we’ll rely on the twelve-pounders to do the job.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  “Also, train the ship’s gunners against targets on shore like tents or light buildings, or groups of men, just in case. The grasshopper gunners will do the same on land, of course.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “There’s another problem. We won’t be able to fit everyone, plus the grasshoppers, aboard this ship for the journey back to Alconteral. Can your family shipyard charter another vessel or two to carry all the extra people and cargo, including plenty of ammunition for all the cannon?”

  “Yes, sir. It can travel in company with us, so we can protect it if necessary.”

  “Good. I’d like you to come back for at least another year, if you will, to continue training all our gunners. I also want a couple of your shipwrights to come back with you, to teach local workers nail-and-peg construction, and how to set up gaff and square rigs on the masts. If they can bring plans for a bigger chebec than this, up to twice as large, so much the better. I’ll pay them well, and your family too, if they make them available.”

  “You just said the magic words, sir - ‘pay well’. For the right amount, almost anything can be arranged.”

  “Good. I’ll send a few shipwrights along with you, too, to learn what they can from the changes to this ship, and from your family’s shipyard. What’s more, if your family can keep their mouths shut and not let anything slip, I might be able to put a lot more work on the table for them. Do you think they can find up to five hundred laborers and craftsmen, to come over here for at least a year?”

  The gunner’s eyebrows shot up. “Five hundred, sir? What will they be doing?”

  Taghri explained in broad outline, without being specific as to location or timing. “I think, if all goes well, we’ll need them; but I can’t say for sure until our next raid is over. If we succeed, I’ll send for them right away. What do you think?”

  “It’s a tall order, sir, but I think we can do it. I’ll speak with my family, and bring you word of what they say when we return.”

  “All right. Prepare your list of what you need to buy here, and I’ll find the money for it all; and let me know how much money you’ll need to take to Sarut, to do everything there.”

  His next stop was the barracks where the slaves freed from Harith Reis’ ship were being accommodated. They were penniless, of course, and were being supported by the Malik until they could earn enough money to make their way back to their homes.

  Taghri called them together. “I need soldiers and sailors, particularly those willing to learn to handle cannon, large and small. I’m willing to hire any of you who are fit and strong enough. I’ll pay you for a minimum of six months, longer if you’re willing and prove suitable. Wages will be one silver stater per week, plus food, uniform and a barracks or shipboard bed. If you want revenge against the people who enslaved you, this will be a good way to get it. There’s a good chance for loot, over and above your pay. Who’s interested?”

  Questions flew back and forth for a while. At last about half of the freed slaves agreed to work for him. He thanked them, and added, “I’ll be sending you across the Great Bay to Sarut to be trained in how to use cannon, along with some other recruits. You’ll leave in about ten days, and be gone for up to three months. I’ll order clothing and other gear for you today, and give your pay for the next three months to the captain of the ship that’ll take you to Sarut. By the time you come back, I want you fighting fit and ready for action!”

  Malik Dregat was surprised to hear about Taghri’s plans that afternoon – at least, those he was willing to share at this stage. “You’re spending a lot of money,” the ruler cautioned, “but I can’t see how you expect to earn it back.”

  “Your majesty will recall my raid on Quwain. For that venture, I raised five hundred diracs in financing. Everyone who contributed received more than seven diracs for every one they put in. I’m going to try to raise funds for another venture when I re
turn to Alconteral. The word’s spread far and wide about the first one, so I hope I’ll be able to raise up to two thousand diracs this time. It’ll be on the same terms as the first loan – speculative, with no guarantee of a return – but I think the merchants and nobility of Alconteral will recall the first venture, and be generous.”

  “Two thousand? That’s Kalba’s annual income from taxes and imposts!”

  “It’s a lot, yes, your majesty, but I think I’ll need it all to set up what I have in mind. Hopefully, the return will be good enough to satisfy my backers, although it may not be as good as the Quwain venture.” Privately, Taghri thought it probably wouldn’t, because he’d have far more expenses to cover; but even so, there should be enough loot to go around.

  “Well… in that case, perhaps we should consider investing in your venture. Kalba can probably find a couple of hundred diracs.”

  “Thank you, your majesty. I’ll do my best to make sure you get back more than you put in. There’s other help that I need, too. First of all, is there a Kalba shipyard you trust implicitly, an honest business that’s worthy of support?”

  “I can think of two. Why?”

  “I’d like to invite them to send one or two shipwrights to Sarut aboard my ship, your majesty. She’s going to be re-rigged, and have larger cannon fitted. They’ll have the chance to study gaff and square rigs, and also see how sailing ships are built with nails and pegs, rather than sewn together. I intend to buy more armed ships like my chebec in due course, so I want local shipyards to know how to build them. I’m also going to bring back some Sarut shipwrights. I may open my own shipyard, or buy a half-share in an existing business.”