The reef was only forty paces from the beach and he had heard Yanez’ last words quite clearly.
“Pangeran Macota,” he murmured.
He knew the Tiger had been planning to contact Muda Hassim’s nephew and begin an insurrection upon his return to Mompracem. Sambigliong would relay the message.
He rushed back into the camp and quickly searched the grounds. He found some fruit, a can of tinned meat and a small barrel of fresh water, threw them into the small boat, took up the oars and quickly set off for open water.
His plan was simple. He would get a look at the enemy ship, set sail for Mompracem, gather the Tigers, join with Pangeran Macota and his followers, and descend upon Sarawak.
The two launches had already advanced past the southern promontory and had begun to pick up speed. Sambigliong was quick to follow, taking care to stay far enough away for the darkness to conceal him. It was not long before the pirate spotted two bright specks moving south; moments later, he sighted the dim silhouette of a small sailing ship. It must have been the jong that had picked up the frigate’s crew. Sambigliong took in his oars and waited, fixing his eyes upon the small ship.
A short while later, the two launches drew up beneath the jong’s side. Once they were brought aboard, the ship raised anchor and hoisted sail.
“She’s heading south,” murmured the pirate. “They must be taking the Tiger and Señor Yanez to see the rajah.”
Once the ship had set off towards Sarawak, Sambigliong began to row with all his might, heading north. It was not far to Uri, he would reach the island the following night. Once there, he would find a prahu to the Romades or Labuan. If all went well, the Tigers of Mompracem would be battling James Brooke within two weeks.
Sambigliong rowed throughout the night, almost without pause; by dawn he had reached Tanjung Sirik, a large promontory at the far end of the vast Bay of Sarawak.
Exhausted, he was about to head towards one of the islands north of the promontory to search for food and a place to rest, when he spied a beautiful sailboat attempting to round the cape.
“Who could that be?” murmured Sambigliong. “She appears to be coming from Sarawak.”
He studied her more closely, attempting to take in every detail.
“It’s a yacht!” he cried. “Could it be... is it possible!... It would be an incredible stroke of luck!”
He grabbed the oars and began to row, determined to cut the vessel’s path.
“It is Lord Guillonk’s yacht!” he exclaimed, barely able to contain his joy. “Miss Ada and Kammamuri may still be aboard. What luck!”
He rowed with fury, his strength replenished now that help was so close at hand. The small rowboat flew over the large waves.
The yacht rounded the promontory with a second tack and was about to head north. Fearing he would not reach her in time, Sambigliong drew in his oars, quickly armed his rifle and fired a shot into the air.
Several men immediately rushed to the quarterdeck and began to scan the waters with their binoculars. He reloaded his rifle and fired a second shot, then, removed his loincloth, tied it to the barrel and waved it desperately in the air.
There could be no mistaking that signal for help.
The yacht’s sails were braced aback and the small ship began to advance rapidly towards the rowboat. When it was only a hundred meters from the skiff, a voice shouted, “Is that you, Sambigliong?”
“It’s me, Kammamuri!” cried the pirate.
“Great Shiva! Sambigliong!”
Lord James and Ada rushed to the railing.
A rope was immediately lowered over the port side.
“You’re alone?” asked Lord James.
“What happened to Sandokan?” asked Ada.
“And Señor Yanez?” asked Kammamuri.
“They’re heading back to Sarawak, sir,” said Sambigliong.
“Back to Sarawak!” they exclaimed.
“They were recaptured last night, just as we were about to set sail for Mompracem.”
“We heard they were being taken to Norfolk aboard a convict ship,” said Lord James. “I knew they would escape. No prison has ever held the Tiger for long. It’s only a matter of time before he’s back on Mompracem. Tell us everything, Sambigliong.”
With a few words, the pirate narrated all that had happened since they had parted.
“So they’ll be put on the next transport ship?” asked Kammamuri.
“Yes, the next one headed for Norfolk,” replied Sambigliong.
“We must free them!”said Ada.
“Let’s not rush things, my friends,” said Lord James. “Brooke will be on his guard, he won’t be fooled so easily.”
“Milord,” said Sambigliong, “As you know, the Tiger of Malaysia had planned to return to Sarawak with the Tigers of Mompracem, join forces with Pangeran Macota and topple the rajah from his throne. The Malays are still loyal to the Sultan’s true heir.”
“Yes. He mentioned as much.”
“Sandokan gave me a purse of diamonds to help expedite the insurrection,” said Ada. “Once we had made contact with Pangeran Macota, Kammamuri was going to set sail for Mompracem and relay the Tiger’s plan.”
“I’ll take care of that,” said Sambigliong. “Lend me one of your launches and a few men, Milord; I’ll gather the pirates and return to meet you.”
“I have a steam launch; it’s at your disposal.”
“I’ll set off immediately, Milord. Have you learned where they’re keeping Pangeran Macota?”
“He’s in Sedang, under house arrest. We were heading there when we spotted you.”
“I know it; it’s along the Sedang River.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll meet you at the mouth of that river two weeks from today with the fleet from Mompracem. If all goes well, you’ll have met with Pangeran Macota by then and informed him of our plans.”
“Harry!” shouted Lord James.
The first mate, a tall handsome man with lightly tanned skin, came forward.
“Yes, Milord.”
“Have the steam launch readied, stock it with provisions, weapons, and enough coal for five days.”
The order was executed immediately. Minutes later, four men and a stoker descended into the launch and fired up the engine.
“Thank you, Milord,” said Sambigliong, grabbing onto the ladder. “The next time we meet, I’ll be at the head of our men.”
“How many men will you have at your disposal?”
“Two hundred, Milord.”
“How many prahus?”
“Thirty, armed with forty cannons and sixty swivel guns.”
“A good number; let’s hope you don’t encounter the rajah’s fleet.”
“We’ll be careful.”
“The launch can reach a speed of ten knots an hour; you should reach Mompracem within two days.”
“Goodbye, my friends. See you soon.”
“Rest assured; we’ll be waiting for you at the mouth of the Sedang,” replied Lord James. “Safe journey.”
Sambigliong climbed down into the launch and gave the command to set sail. A quarter of an hour later, the rapid vessel was no more than a black speck upon the azure surface of the sea. The yacht had resumed her course eastward, keeping well away from the mouth of the Sarawak to avoid the rajah’s coast guard. His lordship did not want anyone to know of his trip to Sedang.
During the night, the rapid ship rounded the cape at the far end of the bay and began her advance towards the coast. The next day, at seven in the evening, she reached the mouth of the Sedang River and dropped anchor in a small basin shaded by tall durian trees and beautiful sago palms.
“Do you see anyone, uncle?” asked Ada, who had just come up on deck.
“The mouth of the river is deserted,” replied his lordship. “Not many people visit Sedang.”
“When do you intend to go ashore?”
“Tomorrow, but we’ll need to disguise ourselves first. We’d stand out among the l
ocals as we are now. It wouldn’t be long before the rajah was informed that some Europeans had arrived in Sedang.”
“And where shall we get these disguises?”
“I have all that we need aboard.”
“Well then, uncle, good night; it’s best I get some rest.”
“Yes, sleep well, Ada. Tomorrow will be quite eventful.”
Chapter 22
The Governor of Sedang
TWELVE HOURS LATER, a launch manned by six Bugi crewmen, his lordship, Ada and Kammamuri was advancing up the river towards Sedang. The sailors had donned their traditional costumes, multicoloured sarongs[8] and small turbans; his lordship and Ada, their skin having been dyed a charming bronze, had wrapped themselves in rich, brightly coloured clothing, cinched at the waist by wide sashes of red silk to make themselves look like Indian royalty travelling for pleasure.
Only Kammamuri had remained dressed as he was, his Marathan attire unlikely to draw suspicion. The narrow, muddy river was almost deserted. From time to time, a large Dyak longhouse appeared on the shore built on high posts that towered fifteen or twenty feet above the ground.
Large forests extended on either side of the course of water, thick with lush vegetation. Giunta wan rubber trees, banana trees, gluga trees[9], areca trees, and immense camphor trees arched and interlaced over piper nigrum plants heavy with red berries. Hanging creepers and rattan vines wreathed many a tree, swaying slightly as proboscis monkeys swung among the branches.
Arguses and black cockatoos flitted among the foliage; a few rhinoceros hornbills peered down from above, the large orange casques atop their heads prominent against the leaves. A few fruit bats could also be seen roosting among the trees, dark furred beasts about the size of a small dog that when in flight have a wingspan of a hundred and thirty centimetres.
By midday, the launch had made its way up the river, reached Sedang and dropped anchor on the outskirts of the hamlet.
Though Sedang appears on all maps as the second most important city in the Kingdom of Sarawak, it is little more than a village. It is comprised of about a hundred longhouses inhabited by Dyak-lants[10], several small houses with arched roofs that belonged to Chinese merchants, and two palaces built of wood. One belonged to the governor, a man completely devoted to the rajah, the other to Pangeran Macota, a man determined to retake the throne.
It would not be easy to visit Muda Hassim’s nephew, for he was kept under constant surveillance. The Governor had twenty Indian soldiers at his disposal and had posted them throughout the city to watch for anything suspicious.
Since there were no inns or hotels in Sedang, his lordship bought one of the nicest Chinese homes at the northern end of the city, and led Ada and Kammamuri there.
“I must leave you now,” he said turning to his niece. “I’ve done all I can without compromising my honour as a British officer and one of James Brooke’s fellow countrymen. Sarawak may be an independent state, but it does have ties with England and as an Englishman I must remain neutral.”
“You’re leaving?” Ada asked sadly.
“I have no other option. I’m going back to my yacht; we’ll sail to the mouth of the river. We’ll remain there until hostilities have begun, on the off chance you may need my help. From what I’ve seen, you’re quite able to act on your own.”
“Thank you, uncle!”
“I’ve assigned four men to assist you. They’ll obey you as they do me; they’re men of proven courage and unquestionable loyalty. Goodbye, then! Should you find yourselves in danger, send one of them to me. My yacht will immediately sail upriver.”
They embraced at length then his lordship got into the launch and set off down the river. Rooted to the shore, the young woman watched the tiny vessel advance towards the horizon, unaware that one of the rajah’s guards had been studying her with great interest and was now slowly walking towards her.
“Who are you?” asked the guard, stopping beside her.
The young woman started then cast a sharp and haughty look upon the Indian.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“To know who you are,” replied the Indian.
“That’s none of your concern.”
“Those are my orders; you are not from here.”
“Whose orders?”
“The governor’s.”
“I’ve never met him.”
“Nevertheless, he must be informed of all who visit Sedang.”
“And why is that?”
“Pangeran Macota lives here.”
“And who would that be?”
“The nephew of the former Sultan of Sarawak.”
“I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting the Sultan or his nephew.”
“It does not matter; I must know who you are.”
“I am an Indian princess.”
“From the proud tribes of the Marathas,” said Kammamuri, coming up to them.
“A Marathan princess!” exclaimed the Indian with a start. “I’m a Maratha.”
“No, you are a traitor,” said Kammamuri. “If you were a true Maratha, you would be as free as I am, not a slave to one of our British oppressors.”
Anger flashed in the soldier’s eyes for an instant then he bowed his head and murmured, “You’re right.”
“Go,” said Kammamuri. “Free Marathas despise all traitors.”
The Indian started then raised his head; his eyes had welled with tears.
“No,” he said sadly, “I have not forgotten my country; I have not abandoned my tribe. I’ll always be ready to fight against India’s oppressors, I am still a Maratha.”
“Words are wind,” said Kammamuri with even more disdain. “What proof do you offer?”
“You need but ask.”
“Very well, my mistress is a princess from one of our bravest tribes. If you are indeed a true Maratha, swear obedience to her as do all the free sons of our mountains!”
The Indian rapidly scanned their surroundings to ensure no one was watching, then fell to Ada’s feet, put his forehead to the ground and said, “I am yours to command. I swear by Brahma, Shiva, and Vishnu, divine protectors of India, that I will obey your every word.”
“I recognize you as a brother,” said Kammamuri. “Come!”
They returned to the house; four crewmen guarded the door, hands resting on the butts of their pistols, ready to defend their commander’s niece at the first sign of trouble. Once inside, they entered a room furnished with bamboo chairs and papered with a Fung floral print. Teapots and small porcelain cups cluttered several small tables.
“I await your orders,” repeated the Indian, prostrating himself before Ada once again.
The young woman studied him for a moment, as if attempting to read into the depths of his soul.
“I hate the rajah,” she said, after a brief silence.
“What!” exclaimed the Indian, raising his head and looking at her in amazement.
“Yes,” the young woman said energetically.
“Has he harmed you?”
“No, I hate him because he is British, I hate him because I am a Maratha and his people are oppressing our nation, I hate him because he was once part of the army that destroyed our rajah’s freedom. Those of us who remain free have pledged eternal hatred against all Europeans.”
“Are you powerful?” asked the Indian, his amazement increasing.
“I have brave men, ships and cannons at my command.”
“So you’ve come to declare war?”
“Yes, Rajah Brooke’s reign must come to an end.”
“Surely you cannot defeat the rajah alone?”
“Pangeran Macota will assist us.”
“What!”
“Yes.”
“But he’s still a prisoner!”
“We’ll free him.”
“Does he know of your plans?”
“Not yet, but I’ll inform him.”
“He’s well guarded.”
“We’ll get around the guards.”
“How?”
“You’ll find a way.”
“Me!”
“That will be your test, if you wish to prove to me that you truly are a Maratha.”
“I’ve sworn to obey you and Bangawadi will not go back on his word,” the Indian said solemnly.
“Listen,” said Kammamuri, who until then had remained silent. “How many men guard Macota?”
“Four.”
“Night and day?”
“Always.”
“He’s never alone?”
“Never.”
“Are there any Marathas among those Indians?”
“No, they’re all Gujaratis.”
“All loyal to the Governor?”
“Incorruptible.”
Kammamuri fell silent and began to think. A moment later, he thrust his hand into the large sash about his waist and drew out a diamond the size of a hazelnut.
“Go to the governor,” he said, turning towards the Indian, “And tell him that Princess Raibh offers him this gift and requests an audience with him.”
“What are you up to, Kammamuri?” asked Ada.
“I’ll tell you in a moment, Highness. Bangawadi, we’re counting on your pledge.”
The Indian took the diamond, prostrated himself before the young woman one last time and quickly left the room.
Kammamuri watched him disappear down the street then turned towards Ada.
“So far so good,” he said.
“What are you up to, Kammamuri?” repeated Ada
Instead of replying, the Maratha drew a small box from the folds of his sash and opened it. It contained several tiny pills.
“Señor Yanez gave them to me,” he said, “Slip one into a glass of water, wine or tea and even the strongest person will fall asleep.”
“How do you plan to use them?” the young woman asked, amazed.
“We’ll drug the governor and Macota’s guards.”
“I don’t follow you.”
“Once he’s received the gift, the governor will undoubtedly invite us to lunch. I’ll make sure he drinks the narcotic, then once he’s asleep, we’ll go visit Macota and play the same trick on his guards.”
“Do you think the guards will allow us to visit the prisoner?”
“Bangawadi will introduce us, claiming that the visit has been authorized by the governor.”
Sandokan: The Pirates of Malaysia (The Sandokan Series Book 3) Page 24
