The Thief of Kalimar; Captain Sinbad; Cinnabar

by Graham Diamond

  “I’ll see you all drawn and quartered!” hissed the monarch, a maniacal grin splitting his hawkish features. “Not one of you will leave Crete alive!”

  The guards were bounding closer. “That settles it!” called Felicia. She swiftly pressed her knife against Thruna’s breast. The princess felt her heart skip a beat.

  “On your feet!” demanded Felicia.

  Thruna got up slowly, her eyes darting to her father. Harald rose as well. “I warn you, woman. Leave my daughter or — ”

  “We need a hostage,” shot back Felicia. “Your daughter is our only chance to get off this insufferable island.”

  The guards made ready to throw their spears, but the king stayed them. “You’ll never get away with this,” he roared.

  There was laughter in fiery Felicia’s eyes. “Oh no? Well, then, Thruna dies with us. The first one to make a move is responsible for her death. Budge an inch from your places and I’ll slit her throat.”

  “She means it,” said Sinbad.

  Harald flushed a shade of purple. “If one hair on my daughters head is split … ”

  Sinbad snapped his fingers at his men, barked for them to relieve the Greek guards of their weapons and clear a path for them all down to the quay.

  As the guests were huddled into the corners, the bold fighting men of Denmark seemed ready to strike, knowing a swift charge could easily overtake the badly outnumbered followers of Islam. In ordinary circumstances Harald would have gladly given the command, even if it had cost him his own life. Better death than humiliation, he always said. But now it was Felicia’s knife at the throat of his darling Thruna, and he was wise enough to realize that the pirate girl would not hesitate. So he signaled for his men to let them pass and watched with consternation as his daughter was hustled from the banquet hall.

  “I’ll not rest until she’s back!” he growled, shaking a fist.

  Sinbad turned and looked at him. “No harm will come to her, King Harald. All we want is the chance to escape … ”

  “And Thruna?”

  “We’ll release her after we’re safe.”

  “He lies!” wailed the king of Crete. He gritted his teeth, stepped amid the rubble of his once resplendent hall, and glared angrily. “I’ll follow you till the ends of the world for this,” he vowed. “If your ships ever come within a hundred leagues of Crete again I’ll — ”

  Harald stepped in front of his son-in-law. “All I want is my daughter, Captain. Give her to me now and we can part in peace.”

  Sinbad shook his head. He glanced over his shoulder through the open doors and saw that half his men had already reached the docks. “I can’t do that, sire. Believe that I wish I could. But Thruna’s all we have to make sure we sail safely.”

  The Viking grumbled beneath his breath. He had come to like this brazen Easterner. Truly he had. But if forced to choose between Thruna’s life and this friendship, he knew he would cleave Sinbad’s head in half and not bat an eye.

  “My ships shall be following you, too,” he promised. “We shall not rest until this matter is resolved.”

  Sinbad nodded. “I understand. I’ll have to take my chances.” Then he bowed his head to the king of Crete. “I enjoyed your party, sire. My only regret is that it had to end as it has.” And before the infuriated liege could reply, Sinbad had turned and fled out into the evening shadows.

  PART SIX:

  Of the chase and Thruna and Methelese’s bag of tricks which were really more than the good captain bargained for.

  The deck of the Scheherazade bustled with life, the sails gaily swelled, and the ship heeled slightly to port as she set upon her course. She sailed west, against her own shadow cast by the rising sun, toward the Ionian sea and the coasts of Sicily.

  Sinbad had been up all night, directing the new course and keeping out a wary eye for their pursuers. With his shirt open to his waist, he crossed the bridge to the weather side and studied the morning stars intently. The isle of Malta lay perhaps ten days ahead he knew, but that was providing the wind, which had seemed so promising all night, did not continue to fall off.

  “A warm drink, sir?”

  Sinbad turned to see a smiling Abu holding a mug of spiced tea. He took the drink gratefully and sipped at the steaming brew; then he glanced upwards to his man perched high in the crow’s nest. “Can you see them yet?” he called.

  The sailor shaded his eyes from the rising sun and peered along the horizon in the direction of Crete. “Aye, Capt’n,” he replied at last. “A whole fleet of them — coming fast at five points off the stern.”

  Sinbad looked back at Abu and grimaced. “They’ll spare no effort in trying to catch us,” he said uneasily.

  The first mate spat into the wind. Felicia leaned against the rail and scowled. “We can outrace those Greeks,” she huffed.

  Sinbad nodded as a low cloud crossed the sun and a pall covered the ship. “Maybe. But I’m less certain about these long ships of King Harald. They’re fast, the fastest I’ve ever seen. A leaky tub like ours won’t win any races against them.”

  “We’ve been chased before, Capt’n,” said Abu, a daring note in his voice. “It’s not the first time — and I daresay it shan’t be the last.”

  Small comfort, thought Sinbad. He turned to Felicia. “How’s Princess Thruna? Giving anyone a hard time?” The second mate grinned. “Not a peep out of her, Sinbad. Still drunk, snoring like a sailor. When she comes round I’m not sure she’ll remember what happened.”

  “Perhaps we should wake her and bring her on deck. It won’t be long before Harald’s ships start to bear down.” Abu looked at the captain uncertainly. “What’s up your sleeve?” he asked.

  “Not much. We can’t fight a whole fleet, and Thruna’s our only bargaining chip. Harald won’t dare attack us and put his daughter’s life in jeopardy … ”

  “I doubt the king of Crete will feel the same,” rejoined Felicia dryly. “He’s got his pride at stake; he won’t give a brass plate’s worth of a damn for his bride.”

  Felicia was right, Sinbad knew. Thruna meant nothing to the king now. Until honor was satisfied he would never rest. Their only hope was to somehow remove King Harald from the chase and hope to elude the Cretans. On an open sea in fair weather it would be hard, but once they reached the rugged coasts of Sicily …

  “Three leagues and coming fast!” cried the lookout. Three leagues! The Scheherazade’s lead wasn’t holding up very well. By nightfall the Norsemen could easily whittle that distance in half.

  Sinbad called for the officer of the watch, who proved to be Milo, and instructed him to keep a steady course into the wind. Then he turned back to Felicia. “Bring the princess to my cabin; I think we’d better have a little talk with her.”

  The ship had begun to pitch in rougher weather by the time the tall Viking girl was brought. Escorted by Felicia, Thruna stood passive and proud, her blond braids glinting sunlight at the edges, her sea-blue eyes coldly taking in the captain seated at the corner of his desk. Shoulders back, breasts thrust out, she appeared a perfect picture of Nordic womanhood.

  Sinbad met her stare and sighed. She must hate him for what he’d done — and with good reason. After all, he’d spoiled her wedding banquet, made a laughingstock of her husband, kidnapped her at the threat of her life.

  He gestured for her to sit. Thruna refused with a shake of her head. As Don Giovanni hopped onto his shoulder, Sinbad said, “I don’t expect you to believe this, Princess, but I’m truly sorry for what happened.”

  Thruna didn’t move a muscle and said nothing.

  Sinbad fidgeted uncomfortably. “No harm is going to come to you; you have my word. But you must understand the predicament we’re in. As you must know, both your husband’s fleet and your father’s ships are following behind … ”

  A small smile broke across her thin lips.

  Sinbad continued. “Anyway, our only chance seems to be to outsail them all if we can. But we have to hold onto you, Princess, although I
’m loath to cause you any more suffering. We can’t risk King Harald trying to attack or burn our ship. He won’t — as long as you’re with us and safe.” He looked at her sternly. “Now do you understand our plight?” No answer was forthcoming, so Sinbad went on. “This ship is bound for the west, and once we’re well out of danger I plan to put you ashore. We might touch many ports — Corsica, Sardinia perhaps, or even the Balearic Islands. Whichever is best for you is where we’ll head. Sooner or later you’ll be found, I’m sure, and brought safely back to your husband. I’m sorry, Princess Thruna, but right now it’s the best I can do.”

  Her smile suddenly vanished. She said, “Thank you for your concern, but I don’t want to go back to Crete.”

  Felicia exchanged a shocked look with Sinbad who turned back to Thruna scratching his head. “You don’t … want to go back?”

  The Nordic princess laughed, leaving her companions dumbfounded. She proceeded to sit down on the chair, cross her legs so that her thighs showed milky white through the slit in her gown, and grin.

  “But he’s your husband!” protested Sinbad.

  “Piff!” She waved an imperious hand, sloughing off the thought. “He’s a bore. An absolute bore. A dullard and a dimwit. A piece of pastry. In Denmark we laugh at men like this … ”

  “Then why did you marry him?” asked an incredulous Felicia.

  She looked at the pirate girl with no hatred at all. “Ah, you’re so young, dear child. I’ve dreaded this silly marriage since I can remember. But King Harald,” — she sighed and turned down her lip distastefully — “my father, cannot be disobeyed. Once something is planted in his mind, not even the wrath of the gods can persuade him. Thor knows I’ve tried! He’s dreamed of such a foolish alliance ever since I was a child, hoping to bring new prosperity to our land. High and low he searched for a worthy husband” — her stare hardened — “and when one wasn’t forthcoming he settled on that clown. A marriage of state, nothing more. Time and time again I pleaded with him to forget this nonsense, but as I said … ” And she finished her remarks with a shrug.

  Stunned, Sinbad could find no words; Thruna had more than taken the wind out of his sails; she had left him breathless.

  “So you see,” Thruna continued easily, “you’ve freed me from a life bound to be as boring as it is useless. If anything, good captain, it is I who should be grateful to you.” She leaned forward, her hands forming a pyramid, fingertips tapping together. “Where is it that we sail for?”

  Felicia’s eyes widened. “You don’t want to be rescued? Not even by your father?”

  “Not unless he has my marriage annuled and takes me back to Denmark. Otherwise, I think I’ll just go with you.” She was as calm as a lake on a mild summer’s day.

  “Come with us?” cried Sinbad. “Are you crazy? As it is, the whole Cretan fleet is chasing me! Do you think I want to add the fleet of Denmark as well?”

  Thruna wasn’t disturbed. “You’ll manage. You can outsail the Cretans.”

  “I’m not as sure of that as you are,” Sinbad said. “But even if we do, what about King Harald’s ships?”

  Thruna smiled, her eyes bright. “My father’s captains are no match for the world’s finest sailor. Surely you can keep them at a safe distance and find some way to slip away. Anyway, for your own sakes you have to try. What other options do you have?” And she complacently sat back, knowing that Sinbad’s dilemma forced him to accept her whether he liked it or not.

  Felicia looked at the captain and groaned. Fate had played a curious joke, and now it was they who had been outsmarted.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked after Thruna had been returned to her quarters.

  Sinbad shrugged. “For now, nothing. Just hope that the princess is right, and those long ships aren’t as fast as we think they are.”

  By evening, with a good wind still prevailing, the Scheherazade had almost managed to maintain its three-league lead. But as the sun dipped, the sails and banners of Denmark were still too close for comfort. And not far behind, lagging but doggedly staying in the race, came the Cretan fleet.

  “There’s grim humor in this voyage of ours,” Sinbad told Don Giovanni as he restlessly paced in his cabin that night. “We set sail from Jaffa as a peaceful merchant. Since then we’ve been chased by pirates and by poor Dormo’s ship from Baghdad, incurred the wrath of the whole Cretan navy, and found ourselves the enemy of King Harald. All this while our intentions were peaceful. What might have happened to us were they otherwise?”

  *

  Sinbad came to the deck the next morning in glum spirits. He found his trusted officers gathered together on the bridge, all looking terribly worried as they peered across the stern. He didn’t have to ask what was wrong.

  The billowing golden sails of the long ships were twice as large as they had been the night before. Sinbad’s zig-zag course in darkness had done nothing to lose them. In fact, King Harald had even managed to cut the distance. Two leagues at best, perhaps only one in a day or two, and then …

  Milo turned and faced the chagrined captain. “We did our best, Capt’n. Followed your orders to the letter; changed tacks three times, cut our sailing time — ”

  A small wave of Sinbad’s hand stopped him abruptly. There was no point in hearing the story — it wasn’t the fault of his crew at all. Just that they were battling a determined adversary — determined and angry.

  “We made a mistake in taking Thruna has hostage,” he said at length.

  “That’s to say now,” countered Felicia. “But if it wasn’t for her, we’d all still be on Crete — chained in a Greek dungeon for the rest of our lives.”

  Sinbad stood by the poop-deck rail, peering through the spyglass, shadowed from the morning sun’s glare by the mast. Those Vikings were a rugged bunch, he saw, working at a sweat to inch their ships nearer to his own. Carefully altering course with the subtlest shifts in wind, exploiting the swells below them and taking full advantage of their speed. Inwardly Sinbad had to admire them — Harald as well. A pity they couldn’t be on the same side. If only Felicia had chosen a different hostage! Anyone. Even the king of Crete himself. But no, he thought. This whole, mess was his own fault; there was no one else to blame. If he had chosen the wedding gift more carefully, made sure of its origin …

  “What are we going to do, Sinbad?” asked Milo.

  “Let’s give the princess back,” grumbled Abu. “At least that might get Harald off our backs. Then we can concentrate on the Greeks.”

  Sinbad lifted his gaze toward the heavens. “By Allah, if only we could! But she won’t go! She refuses — not while Harald insists on taking her back to Crete.”

  “Maybe he can be persuaded to change his mind?” offered Methelese.

  “Small chance of that. This alliance is his lifelong goal. He’ll mend the fences with the Greeks any way he can — at Thruna’s expense as well as our own … ”

  Felicia turned, her hair blowing freely in the gusts, and said, “Then if we can’t change Harald’s mind, we ‘e got to change Thruna’s.”

  “Are you serious? You heard the way she spoke. She’s adamant. She’s — ”

  Felicia smiled coyly. “She need not agree, Sinbad, only be unable to struggle when we transfer her to her father’s ship … ”

  “What do you mean?”

  The pirate laughed, her large eyes filled with mischief “There are ways, Captain. Women — er — seem to succumb to your charms … ”

  Sinbad gulped. “You want me to seduce a princess of Denmark? The wife of a Greek king?”

  “Not seduce, Captain. Soothe her … ” She put a strong emphasis on the word, leaving its meaning both clear and foggy.

  “You’re crazy.”

  “Am I?” Then, as Sinbad and the others stood perplexed, Felicia drew them all closer and explained.

  Sinbad’s face was impassive when she had done. “It’s risky,” he said nervously. “We’ll be letting Harald’s ships come awfully close; and we’d l
ose any chance of outrunning him should the plan fail.”

  Felicia’s eyes twinkled. “It won’t, Sinbad. You won’t.”

  He looked to the others. One by one, they all avoided his gaze, leaving him to carry the burden. At length he sighed, put his hands on his hips, and nodded. “All right; we might as well try it. Abu, you know what to do. Keep our course and speed exactly the same until twilight. Then proceed with half sails. By dawn I want Harald’s ships to be within shouting distance. Leave the rest to me.”

  *

  Thruna was lounging in her cramped quarters when Sinbad knocked at sunset. The tall girl was more than surprised when he pleasantly invited her to his cabin for supper. Gone was all his anger and frustration with her, and seemingly even his concern about her father’s closing range.

  Thruna had spent the day happily, Glad to be rid of the yoke of her husband and her imposing father, she contemplated this new and exciting life she had embarked upon. Oh, one day she would show up in Denmark again, she was sure. But not for a long time. Not until she had sailed with Sinbad and the Scheherazade, seen the world, and experienced the freedom of the sea. Not until this nonsense of marriage was a dim memory and her unconsummated wedlock annulled forever.

  The meal began merrily enough, with Clair preparing, and Mongo delivering, a tasty flounder gently sprinkled with lemon and dry wine. Exhilarated by the sea air, the Nordic princess displayed a monstrous appetite, cleaning her plate with crusty bread and finishing long before Sinbad.

  “So, what is this city called Roskilde like?” asked Sinbad, pouring the large-boned girl a mug full of fine wine.

  Thruna took a healthy draught and said, “Fogs and winds, winds and fogs. Ice-locked in winter. Brrr. I wonder how I ever put up with that! I like these climes much better. What’s Baghdad like?”

  Sinbad leaned back in his chair with folded arms. “Oh, heat and flies, sand … ”

  The princess giggled. “Are you playing games with me, Captain?”

  There’s more intelligence behind those sea-blue eyes than she lets on, thought Sinbad. I’ll have to be careful. “Not at all, my Princess. I’m merely reminding you of the ancient maxim that grass seems always greener in another’s yard.” Thruna laughed and held out her mug, which Sinbad, readily refilled. Then she pulled a face. “Aren’t you going to drink?” she asked.