By this time all of Sinbad’s crew had been subdued one way or another, but Sinbad showed no fear of being alone. The pirate hordes looked on with smiles as he lunged. The redheaded captain stepped back, parried with her saber, then led a charge of her own, upstrokes and downstrokes keeping Sinbad on his toes every second. The onlookers stepped aside and cleared a large section of deck, allowing the two combatants complete freedom. If any of the women were concerned for their leader’s life, none showed it. Contentedly they watched, as certain of the outcome as if it were a foregone conclusion.
Sinbad’s blood began to boil. He fought his best fight against this woman, but found that he was only managing to hold her to a draw. This girl showed more skill and courage than he would have thought possible, as she fearlessly pressed the attack. It even seemed as if she were toying with him. All very frustrating to Baghdad’s most revered mariner!
The air became a bedlam of hoots and jeers. Sinbad’s crew stood by sullenly while the women cajoled their leader into action, shouting phrases like: “Make him a eunuch, Melissa!” and “Cut off his balls!”
Their merriment only increased Sinbad’s fury. Like a tiger unleashed he began to thrust again — and this time clearly gained the upper hand as Melissa was forced to protect herself against his fierce onslaught.
“You fight well, sailor!” cried the pirate girl with honest admiration in her voice. Sparks flew as their weapons crossed.
“And so do you,” admitted Sinbad, not letting down his guard for a moment. Then they grappled briefly, only to pull apart and begin their thrust and parry all over again.
“We could fight like this all day; I think,” said Melissa after a time. Her cheeks were flushed and she was panting for air.
“I don’t mind,” rejoined Sinbad, his own face drenched in perspiration. “I have plenty of time … ”
Melissa grinned, then slashed wildly. Sinbad sidestepped and chuckled. “Are you getting tired?”
Melissa shook her head. Her blue eyes flashed and she threw back her hair. “Not at all. I’m enjoying every moment of it.”
And back to the fight they went, the crowd at times gasping when Sinbad’s blows came too close for comfort, and rallying when Melissa’s jabs and stabs came close to their mark.
“This fight of yours, as brave as it may be, is really useless,” Melissa said to him a few moments later.
Sinbad shrugged as he regained a defensive posture. “I have very little to lose,” he confided. “You already have both my ship and my crew at your mercy, and no doubt you’ll be claiming all my cargo as well.”
The pirate captain’s eyes narrowed. “And what of your own life, Captain?” she asked. “Have you no care for that precious commodity?”
“Great care, my lady,” replied the mariner. “But you keep me at a disadvantage. Even should I win this little match of ours” — his eyes glanced briefly to Melissa’s crew, — “I fear my life will be worthless — unless you call off your dogs.”
Melissa laughed grandly. “You have a point, sir. Perhaps it might then be in both our interests to call the fight to a halt. Maybe we can say it was a draw — ”
Then unexpectedly she lunged again, and once more their blades crossed. Sinbad grabbed hold of her free wrist, she grabbed his own, and as they grappled they stared long and deep into each other’s eyes.
“You are far too courageous to kill, sir,” said Melissa. “And far too handsome as well. Surely you could be put to far better use than being served as supper to the sharks.”
Sinbad grinned. “Thank you, my lady. I would be pleased to say the same about you — were it not for your unfortunate tactics in robbing me of my ship. Better to repay you if I can — and let the devil claim your soul.”
Here the fiery girl’s eyes darkened and the smile vanished from her face. A fleeting shadow crossed her feminine features. “Surrender to me now, sir,” she commanded. “You have irked me long enough, and I don’t want to see you dead unless it becomes absolutely necessary.”
Noting her rising anger, it was Sinbad’s turn to laugh. Taunting her was the only way he might possibly loosen her defenses and catch her off guard.
“Surrender to you?” he asked. “For whatever reason? Unless you have a mind to meet my own terms.”
“Insolent sod!” snapped the girl. And breaking his grip, she drew back, then thrust and thrust again, desperate to bring him down. Sinbad circumvented her attacks with an endless variety of parries, causing her to use her blade more wildly than before.
At length Melissa grew weary and began to stalk again. “You are a fine specimen of swordsmanship, sir,” she told him. “Although I am not disposed to meet any terms you may ask, I am willing to hear what you have to say.”
“Most gracious of you, my lady. I can see that you are something of a gentlewoman, although your occupation leaves doubts in my mind. But be that as it may. My terms are simple: Take whatever cargo you desire. Any or all of it — but give me your word to release my crew unharmed and return to me my ship. We shall go on our way and this incident of piracy shall be forgotten.”
Melissa smirked. “To the victor go the spoils,” she reminded. “Look about you and refresh your memory that both crew and ship are already mine — to do with as I choose. As for you, well,” — she shrugged — “as I said, I would rather not kill you, but if I must … ”
Sinbad gritted his teeth and pressed in again. “Then we have nothing to discuss.”
“Here me out!” countered Melissa as she parried. “I will give my word that no harm shall come to you or your men if you put down your sword and submit willingly.”
“A one-sided bargain, my lady. You’ll have to do better.”
The pirate growled at his insolence and charged once again. “Arrogant brat!” she hissed “Who do you think you are?”
“Captain Sinbad of Baghdad at your service,” replied the sailor, smiling as he dodged her rapid series of thrusts.
“Really?” Melissa’s eyes visibly brightened at mention of the name. “You do me an honor, sir! I shall be proud to be known as the woman who killed you. Perhaps it will make my name as famous as your own.”
“I’m not dead yet, my lady,” observed Sinbad, carrying on the banter. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll get lucky and have the honor of killing you. Perchance you are well known in these parts?”
“All the Mediterranean is my domain,” she snapped. “From Tripoli to Sardinia to the Barbary coasts. My reputation is unmatched — in three years upon the sea I’ve captured nearly a hundred ships. And no one hears my name without fear. No woman, no man. These are my home grounds on which we fight, Captain Sinbad of Baghdad. My waters and my terms.”
“You leave little room to negotiate, my lady.”
Melissa’s flaming hair bounced as she threw back her head and glared at Sinbad with a mixture of contempt and admiration. “So do you, sir. And I am becoming bored with this conflict of ours. I have better ways to pass the day.”
The fight picked up in its ferocity. As before, though, their skills were evenly matched and neither could gain the upper hand. The pirate crew was growing restless, wishing to have done with this, to sack the ship and be on their way to count the booty.
“I can force you into giving up, you know,” she said, after their fierce exchange had briefly tapered down to a slower pace.
Sinbad shook his head. “I don’t think so, my lady … ”
“No? Then I’ll show you.” She snapped her fingers and her crew drew the tips of their blades against the throats of Sinbad’s men, leaving them shivering with the knowledge that these women would kill them without a second thought if commanded by their leader.
Sinbad watched this new maneuver with growing anxiety. “You’re bluffing,” he said.
Melissa’s brows rose and she smiled catlike. “Ain I? Do you care to test me?” She signaled for Abu to be brought to the fore and looked on as Sinbad watched his first mate humbled to his knees. Then a huge Amazon stood ove
r him and lifted her sword, ready to lop off Abu’s head at Melissa’s instruction.
A grim silence prevailed across the deck of the ship. The swordplay between the captains had now ceased completely, and Sinbad tensely studied his foe. Her threat was real, he decided, noting the hard and steely look in her eyes. This pirate meant every word she had said. And Abu’s life — indeed, the lives of all his men — were worth more to him than either his ship or his wounded pride.
“Well, Captain Sinbad?” asked Melissa, folding her arms and tapping her foot impatiently. “What is it to be? This man’s life is in your hands. Do you yield and turn yourself over? Or … ”
Sinbad hesitated. He looked to Abu, and the first mate returned the glance with pleading eyes.
“You have fought me to a draw, sir,” Melissa went on in a soft voice. “Far better than many others have fared, I assure you. There is no shame for you.”
Sinbad sighed. The fight was lost; being stubborn was not going to help. “You’ll honor that promise about not harming any of my men?”
“Certainly, Captain. I am always good to my word. It’s the code of Barbary.”
With downcast eyes Sinbad flung his weapon to the floor, frowning as a slim-waisted pirate scooped it up as part of her spoils. “You win, Melissa,” Sinbad told the captain. “Do as you will. The Scheherazade is yours.”
The women cheered; the battle was finished at a minimum of bloodshed. Melissa, gloating over this victory, looked at the sullen mariner and beamed. Then she addressed her officers: “We’ve lost enough time already. Bring the prisoners on board our ship and lock them in the hold. We’ll commandeer the Scheherazade as well and sail her home to Phalus. Then I’ll consider what to do.”
“What do you suppose this place called ‘Phalus’ is?” wondered Milo, idly toying with the links of his ankle bracelets.
Sinbad endeavored to lift himself up from the dirty spot he had been occupying and strained to peek between two creaking slats in the wall. He had an unobstructed view of endless blue ocean. “There must be — oh, a thousand tiny islets in these waters,” he replied. “Strung out like a pearl necklace all the way to Crete. My guess is that Phalus is the hideaway for Melissa and her crew. Most likely some deserted spot rarely touched by any ship, far away from the common sea lanes and warships searching for pirates.”
“A hideaway where they can count their spoils in seclusion,” mumbled Mongo, rattling his own chains and staring disconsolately down at the flea-and-roach-infested floor. “Prisoners! Merciful Allah, what a sad fate!”
“Slaves is more like it,” broke in Abu, shoulders sagging and eyes dull in the half-dark of the damp, miserable hold. “These women won’t lose much time selling us off. Mark my words: They’ll have us all galley slaves before we know it.” And he glumly fell into a melancholy silence, a silence that doomed men the world over have always shared.
Sinbad of course did not sanction the gloom of his shipmates, but under the circumstances it was difficult to take heart. He sat down again in the shadows of the swaying overhead lantern and surveyed his new domain. Bugs of every sort were brazenly crawling along the cracked planks, weaving in and out of smelly pools of stagnant water, climbing up the sodden beams, darting among the tightly clustered manacled men. Here and there along the walls he saw names notched into the wood, names of other poor seamen captured by Crimson Melissa and her band, thrown into this very hold and left to languish while the gleeful pirates celebrated on the decks above, then sailed off for Phalus with their booty.
“Bah,” grumped Milo. “What’s the use in complaining about our destiny?” He smiled wanly at his companions, desirous of instilling at least a glimmer of hope where there was none. “At least when we reach Phalus we’ll be taken out of this hole and allowed to breathe.”
“Aye,” chimed Sinbad. “Better to be upon land than here. And maybe we can devise some way to escape … ”
Before his thought had been completed, the sound of a scraping boot rose from the dimness of the outside passage and then the door creaked open. A gentle, elfin face appeared from the shadows and surveyed the hold before its possessor stepped inside. Every sailor turned abruptly to face her. Her features, dark-complexioned and pretty, were those of a girl barely out of her teens, fresh with vitality. But the garments she wore told a different tale; dressed in the same armored breastplate over her tunic as the others, a long, curved carving knife strapped to her petite waist, she would clearly prove no delicate virgin unnerved among this sudden world of men.
Her eyes scanned the prisoners, and, secure that they planned no tricks, she gestured to two women outside to bring in the buckets of slop. Bowls were passed around, each man holding his in both hands while the greasy, cold stew was apportioned. Then, when the bowls were all filled, everyone was handed a small cup of fresh water.
“Eat,” said the guard.
The crew of the Scheherazade exchanged glances. Sinbad nodded. It wasn’t a very appealing meal, but most lost no time dipping their fingers into their bowls, gulping down the stale chunks of meat and slurping up the watery sauce. All except Sinbad, who sipped at his water and pushed his bowl away.
The dark-eyed guard frowned and considered him reproachfully. Her mien was serious as she came and stood over him. “And what’s the matter with you?” she inquired. “Isn’t our cuisine to your liking?” Her companions snickered.
Sinbad returned her look with a bored expression. “I’m not very hungry.”
The guard scowled. “Don’t make me waste my time, Captain. It’s some days’ journey to our island, and my orders are to see to it that all of you reach Phalus alive and healthy. Now eat.”
“I’m still not hungry,” replied Sinbad with defiance.
She made to draw her knife, then paused to regard him more thoughtfully. Melissa would be most displeased, she knew, if any of the crew were lost before sighting shore — especially this mariner from Baghdad who had for some reason captured the pirate captain’s interest.
“Don’t make trouble for yourself, Captain Sinbad,” she advised. “Just do as you’re told. Or perhaps you’d rather I inform Melissa of your brazen attitude?”
If that was intended as a threat, Sinbad certainly was not intimidated by it. “You may inform your captain whatever you like,” he dryly replied. “But make certain to assure her that all our attitudes would improve both remarkably and instantaneously — if we weren’t degraded like this.” And he pushed away his bowl of slop, purposely letting it spill over the brim. Within seconds a host of roaches were rushing to feed.
The guard’s features hardened and her stare became more menacing. “How dare you!” she seethed, long hair falling lightly about her face. “Who are you to make such demands!”
Sinbad looked at her blankly. “We are not animals, my lady — ”
Her hand swept the knife from its sheath in the bat of an eye; the girl wielded it expertly, bringing the razor-sharp edge only a hairsbreadth from Sinbad’s throat. “I am not a lady!” she hissed, obviously touchy at being called anything but a pirate. “I am the first lieutenant of this vessel, second in command to our captain,” She smiled thinly at Sinbad, adding: “And soon to be captain of your own ship.”
The mariner felt his blood stir. It was all he could do to restrain himself from wrenching the knife out of her hand, throwing her over his knee, and giving her a well deserved spanking. Exactly what she needed, if he were any judge of pirates.
“Now,” went on the guard, “do you eat or not?”
Sinbad’s face had defiance written all over it. “Not,” was all he answered.
The girl turned in a huff, the knife still aimed for his throat. Looking over her shoulder, she called for more guards to come at once and subdue the unruly prisoner. As loud sounds of racing boots clattered outside in the corridor, the girl ordered Sinbad to stand. He did so feebly, signaling for his worried men to keep their places and not provoke an incident. Don Giovanni, curled beneath a blanket, poked his head out
and stared at the proceedings. The captain was going to get them all into a heap of trouble, he was sure — the pirates seemed ready to have him keelhauled.
Sinbad, though, was unperturbed. Through the mixture of dim torchlight and shadows from without, he perceived the two figures advancing at the guard’s call. He stared with surprise as they came into the hold. They were men — the first yet seen aboard this curious ship. Tall, broad-shouldered, with thick necks and sinewy limbs, shirtless and muscular. They held shortswords in their hands, and with threatening gestures backed Sinbad up against the wall.
“Mistress?” said the first as he looked to the angered lieutenant. And he waited submissively for her instruction. But missing from his stare, Sinbad noted, was any sign of appreciation for the woman he addressed. Certainly this young pirate girl was a fine specimen of womanhood, turning every head including his own. But to these powerful guards she held no interest, almost as though she were sexless, almost as though the firmness of her breasts or the curve of her hips were of no appeal. Most peculiar for men at sea …
The girl regarded the waiting guards with smoldering eyes. “This one,” she said, pointing to Sinbad, “refuses to follow my orders. Teach him a lesson.”
The burly men looked at each other and grinned. “Yes, mistress,” the first replied with a touch of sadistic pleasure in his voice. And he stripped Sinbad’s shirt with his bare hands and made ready to flog him with the flat of his weapon.
Mongo growled and leaped to his feet, straining to break free of his shackles. Abu and Milo, followed by a handful of others, tried to reach and constrain him. The pirate girl scanned the ill-lighted hold, realizing she had a near-mutiny on her hands.
“Bring the prisoner on deck!” she commanded. “We’ll give the punishment there — ”
Sinbad tried to break free. The guards toppled him to the floor. All at once every man in the hold was up in arms, Mongo in the forefront, veins bulging in a powerful attempt to save his captain from harm. The guards brandished their swords and held the manacled crew of the Scheherazade at bay while the girl struggled to get Sinbad out of the door.
The Thief of Kalimar; Captain Sinbad; Cinnabar Page 62