“Well, it was intriguing to hear him talk about trading all over the world, but we are still waiting for his brothers to come and explain that. I think that time here is not the same as we are perhaps used to in Persia,” he responded with a small grin. “Meanwhile, I see that they play Chogan here, and I would like to play again. Does Reza still play?” he asked as he sat on the bed and took her hand in his.
“Yes, he did sometimes when he visited us in Isfahan. He enjoyed it a great deal when he had the chance. As you know, there is nothing of the kind in the northern mountains.”
He nodded. “I must ask Allam if he has a spare horse or two. He lavishes great care and affection on those smelly camels of his, but I have also seen some splendid horses at his stables too.”
“We must also ensure that our boy continues his education while here, so we must find a tutor for him. I am unsure what Doctor Haddad and Fariba will do once we are settled in. He is a very skilled physician, so I doubt if he will have nothing to do for very long,” she put in on a more practical note.
He thought about that for a moment. “Who taught Rostam while you were in Isfahan?”
“We had a tutor for all the usual things, such as calligraphy and his counting, while Fariba taught him some of the history and poetry he should know. But he is now going on seven, so he needs to be taught some of the more manly things of life,” Rav’an said with a smile. “He needs you more than ever, Talon. It is time to become his father.”
He turned her in his arms and looked at her. “I am not sure how good a father I will be, but I wish to be the best I can, my Rav’an. You must guide me from time to time. I might be too harsh on occasion.”
“I do know life has not been particularly kind to you, Talon, but there is kindness in your soul. That I know, and I love you the more for it, and he will find it too, one day.”
He couldn’t stop watching her mouth as she smiled and spoke; the tiny quirks of amusement and expression enhanced by her eyes rendered him dumb with love.
He put his forehead to hers and said, “Where have you been all this time? For I have missed you.”
Impotent Pieces of the Game he plays
Upon the Checker board of Nights and Days:
Hither and Thither moves, and checks and slays,
And one by one back in the Closet lays.
—Omar Khayam
Chapter Three
Chogan
Talon and Reza were mounted on two small, finely bred ponies that were from Allam’s stables. They were hitting a ball back and forth about on the wide maidan behind the house with some of the syce who worked with the horses. Talon reveled in the feel of a good animal between his thighs again and could see that Reza was just as happy. They were jostling one another for the ball and chasing it across the dusty field, enjoying the last light of the day a couple of hours before prayers, when Talon glanced up and noticed Allam standing at the stable end of the field with some other men.
Allam waved, beckoning them over. The two of them stopped their play and rode over to the small group. Talon acknowledged Allam with a sweep of his mallet and then dismounted, handing off his reins to a syce, while another took the reins from Reza. Talon and Reza both ducked their heads to the assembly and said in unison, “Salaam Aliekom.”
The men were dressed in the traditional Omani white dishdasha that came down to their ankles, and were wearing mMassar, a kind of loose embroidered woolen turban, on their heads. All three carried the beautifully crafted daggers, or khanjars as they were known, attached to their waists with ornate silver belts, which Talon now knew were called shal.
The three men replied with, “Wa Aliekom Salaam.” They smiled back in a friendly manner.
Allam, waved his arm out towards the field and said, “I did not know you played Chogan in addition to your other accomplishments, my friends.” He then his companions introduced his companions as his brothers.
“Both are sea men; they are navigators, Talon. I have brought them to meet you and your friend Reza to answer those many questions you have about their trade and the lands they have seen.”
“We were intrigued that you were so interested in Al Hind and the countries beyond,” the brother who had been introduced as Boulos said. Even under his loose robes Talon could tell he had a solid physique.
“It is the fault of Allam here,” Talon said with a laugh. “He whet our curiosity greatly when he talked of where some of the fine porcelain came from, and much else, but then he said we must wait until we met you.”
“Have you ever sailed before you came here?” the other brother, Imaran, asked them. He was tall and lean, with the look of a desert Arab about him. The three brothers were quite unalike, which Talon attributed to the fact that they might well have had different mothers.
Talon glanced at Reza, who r shrugged, so Talon said, “Yes, I have, and I have even been shipwrecked, but I don’t want to remember that. I am familiar with the sea, but certainly do not have your experience.” A little flattery could not hurt, he supposed. It seemed to please the brothers.
“Our voyages are governed by the monsoon winds,” Imaran began. “One wind is called the Mausim; it blows at the midpoint of the year, about three months from now. It drives from the West to the East and will carry us to Al Hind. From there we can go as far beyond we wish. This wind lasts for nearly six months and then changes direction. Then the winds come off the land of Al Hind, from the great mountains to the North, and drive Westward; they bring us home, Insha’ Allah.”
“Will you be traveling this year?” Reza asked.
“Yes, but first we have to go to Lamu, an island many leagues to the south of here, close to the coast of Bilad Al-Zanj.”
Talon knew this to be Africa. “For what purpose?” he asked politely.
“Why, trade, of course! For slaves, although we the Mardini are also interested in the teeth of the great elephants, and the gold that the people from the country bring to trade with us. Also Ambergris, the spit of the huge fish that washes up on the beaches in the storms; and the horns of the great beasts that live in the savannas, one of them is the waheed al qarn.” He used Arabic words for the creatures, which confused both Talon and Reza for a brief moment; a puzzled Reza asked them to describe the creature.
“It has a huge horn on its long nose and is covered in armor. It is enormous, short-sighted and dangerous, living a solitary life on the great plains in the interior of the country. The horn is much prized in China.” He smirked. “They think it helps the old men to keep it up in the bedchamber.”
His brothers chuckled at that. “It has enormous value to the Chinese people, who will trade with us either in Al Hind or still further East, should we chose to go there and meet with them,” Imaran finished.
Talon glanced at Reza and noticed that he too was intrigued. “What would we have to do to take part in this adventure?” he asked carefully.
The bothers stared at him in silence for a long moment.
“You would need a ship to begin with, and a large one, not some small boat, one that can deal with the great storms and survive. If you did come along in accompanying ships, we could all be very rich when we returned home. However, it can be very dangerous, and some ships never come home,” Boulos told him, as though it were a challenge and a warning.
Talon thought about that. It was not because he feared the adventure; it was more a question of funds. He had discovered with some satisfaction that he had a good amount of credit with the Jewish merchants in Muscat when he visited the bazaar. The man’s eyes to whom he had shown the chits had widened after he had examined them closely. He had ascertained that the chits were good, and over several tiny cups of tea they had compared notes. Much to Talon’s surprise the man, Joshua, who owned a spice shop, professed to know Levi in Cairo, a man with whom Talon had done business some years ago.
That had broken the ice, and they spent a comfortable hour gossiping about Egypt and the region of Palestine. Joshua was well informed, but
still eager for more recent news, which Talon was able to supply. Talon resolved to keep visiting him, as it would do no harm at all to keep a finger on the pulse of events in the Crusader regions.
He knew that Max, his sergeant friend in the Templars, would become aware of his existence from his own contacts in Acre once he, Talon, had drawn on his reserves. The Jews there would eventually inform Max of the withdrawal. Thus, while Max could not hear from Talon directly, he would know for sure that he was alive. Talon was often amazed at how efficient this system seemed to be. He knew it didn’t function as well in the European countries, for although there were Jews in Europe, there they were a beleaguered people.
Joshua knew about King Baldwin and his debilitating leprosy. Doubts about his survival for much longer were widespread. Most people, including Joshua, predicted big troubles for the Frankish crusaders, as the Sultan of Egypt, Salah Ed Din, was gaining in power all the time. It gave some cause for concern to Talon, as he had promised to return as soon as possible to report to the King. He wanted to do that before the boy died. The news of the great battle of Montgisard and the defeat of the Sultan of Egypt had also reached Joshua. Talon was careful to look noncommittal at that news.
Talon had taken some gold, enough to help his extended family, leaving the rest with the trader for any future eventuality. Buying a ship was a heavy commitment, which he would have to think through carefully.
“I noticed that you both appear to play Chogan,” remarked Boulos, changing the subject. “We, too, play that game when we are back here in Oman. Allam is besotted with his darling camels, so we cannot get him interested.” He grinned at the discomfiture of his younger brother. “We enjoy a match from time to time.”
“I hear a challenge here, Talon. Be careful of my brothers when they invite you to play Chogan. For a pair of sailors, they are ferocious on the field,” warned their host.
“My brother is mistaken,” Boulos laughed, slapping Allam on the shoulder. “We were watching you both because we have some men missing from our team, so we are inviting you to play with us on our side. There is a game set for two days from now on the Muscat maidan against one of Allam’s friends, Sheik Nejem. He has issued a challenge and is determined to defeat us at the game.”
Allam looked nervous and fingered his beads. “He is no friend of mine,” he muttered. “He is very upset at losing the camel race, Boulos. Are you sure it is a wise thing to have a game with that man? He treats everything as though it is a fight to be won at any cost.”
“Well, Chogan in a way is a fight, and its cost is high,” Imaran laughed. “You think you are the only gambler here in Muscat, Brother? We have two thousand dinars on this game, but not enough men to play. That is why we have to have men like Talon and Reza here to help us out. They appear to be able to play. In Sha’ Allah we will win with their help.”
Talon had to stop himself gaping. That was a vast amount of money to gamble. These Omani, he had begun to realize, enjoyed gambling.
*****
The addition of Talon and Reza made up the full number of the brothers’ team of players, making it six to a side for the match. The man called Nejem, whose camel had been beaten in the races and who had issue the challenge, wanted ten players to a side. The brothers pleaded a shortage and pointed out that the Caliph wanted a game, not a cancellation at the last minute. Talon’s respect for the two men had gone up as he watched them negotiate with Nejem, who seemed a cold and dangerous man.
Now they were all mounted on pure Arab breeds that came from Yemen. None of them were stallions; Talon had learned in Egypt that while stallions were wonderful animals to ride, they were too skittish for warfare, and Chogan, after all, was war. He glanced over at the tall, hawk-faced man and wondered if this game was more about avenging his loss at the camel race than about a sporting display in front of the Caliph of Muscat. His instincts were that it was the former. He sidled his horse next to Reza, who sat his horse quietly nearby, and whispered, “This man is out for some kind of revenge today, Brother. Be careful.”
Reza flicked a glance at Nejem and nodded. “I agree. He wanted Allam to play in the game very badly, but his brothers were having none of it. Now he will try for one of us, I suspect, as it would shame Allam badly to have harm come to guests under his protection.”
The animals were snorting and fidgeting; they sensed the tension of their riders. Then, as often happens, they began to show off to their immediate neighbors by pawing the ground, flaring their nostrils, snarling, and tossing heads.
The game started almost before Talon realized it had. A man ran out in front of the crowd, just to the front of the pavilion where the Caliph was seated, and hurled a round, whitish ball straight at the milling horses.
Someone shouted and the riders began barging into one another. Several horses kicked out, but their riders managed to control them with whip and spur. Then the ball was struck away. There was already so much dust that Talon could barely tell which direction it was headed. He whipped his head about and saw Reza break free of the mob of milling players to gallop rapidly after the ball. Talon turned his very responsive animal on its haunches and followed. There was a roar from the crowd as the game took off.
He sensed that someone was on his right and glanced over to see one of Nejem’s players maneuvering his animal to strike Talon’s and drive him out of the play. Talon sat deep, and in response his mount sat on its haunches. The other rider had not expected this, and his horse rushed past without touching Talon. The man snapped his head around with a snarl as he wrenched at his animal, trying to turn it.
He was too slow and Talon rode his horse directly into the back of the man’s mount. Although it was a heavy shock, Talon’s horse’s chest was buffered by the fleshy rump of the other animal. The other pony was knocked forward, staggering, and its rider went flying off its back to land hard in the dirt. Then Talon was off to chase after Reza, who had almost disappeared down the field. He didn’t even glance back at his victim, who was scrabbling around on hands and knees in the dirt, looking for his mallet.
Talon had a clear stretch before him. Reza knocked the ball towards Imaran, who drew the pursuing riders after himself and then cleverly passed the ball back to Reza just as Talon thundered up the field. Reza spun his horse neatly and tapped the ball towards the goal, keeping it almost under his horse’s hooves as they ran. Now the other team members were desperately trying to catch both riders, who were leading the charge for their goal. Imaran yelled with glee and set spurs to his horse, rapidly overtaking some of the slower members of the opposition. There was one rider, however, riding a magnificent gelding who had the legs on almost everyone. Nejem came up behind Talon at such a speed that one moment there was a distant mob chasing him, and the next time he glanced over his shoulder there was Nejem coming up on his left side.
Reza took a reckless swipe at the ball when it was fifty paces from the goal, but his strike sent it high into the air instead. He continued to ride without stopping to avoid an accident, as by now Talon and Nejem were right behind him, and pulling up short would cause a dangerous pile-up. Talon gauged the trajectory. As the ball plummeted towards the ground, he stood up in the stirrups and struck it overhand while it was still above his head, slamming it straight between the posts.
The already noisy crowd roared their approval, and new bets were taken on who would score the next. Talon did not see Nejem hurling up on his left side. Just as he sat down in the saddle, he felt a sickening blow on his horse’s side, and both he and the horse went tumbling. He threw himself as far away from the animal as possible as it went down, and then rolled even further away from the flailing hooves. He came to his feet like a cat and whirled to stare back at his animal, which lay trembling on the ground, its left fore leg broken. Nejem was dancing his horse away from the animal on the ground with a sneer on his thin face. Reza galloped his horse up and halted it in a small cloud of dust beside Talon, who was brushing off his clothes and staring at Nejem speculativel
y. Reza had a very dangerous look in his eyes.
“I saw what happened, Talon,” he said in Farsi. “The treacherous dog just wanted to kill you.”
“He killed my horse, which was cowardly; neither it nor I have ever harmed him. But now, perhaps, that will change,” Talon grunted back, also in Farsi.
“As God is my witness, I had no idea that we would have such an accident!” Nejem called over as he directed his animal towards them. By this time, the rest of the players had arrived to surround them and the panting animal on the ground. Boulos leapt off his horse and, with a quick glance at Talon to make sure he was all right, knelt by the horse on the ground. He looked at the break in the foreleg; the bone was protruding just below the knee, and he cursed under his breath.
“This horse was worth a lot of money, and one of my favorites,” he said angrily in an undertone to Talon.
He whirled on Nejem. “Nejem, you did not have to charge into my friend in that manner! What were you thinking? Were you trying to hurt the man or the horse?” he demanded, glaring up at the man who sat nonchalantly on his mount, sneering down at them. Najem shrugged.
“This is Chogan, Boulos. Your friend knows how to play, but the horse was unfortunate.”
“I see,” Boulos said, his face flushed with anger. “You have no love of horses; to you they are just tools, nothing more.” He strode to his animal, snatched the reins from the player holding them, mounted, and rode off towards the center of the field.
A group of syce ran onto the field and killed the animal then and there by slashing its jugular. They dragged its carcass off the field towards a subdued crowd, and another mount was handed over to Talon by an older syce, who said in an undertone as he did so, “You are a fine player, Master, but be careful; they will try to harm you and your friend just because you are friends of Sheik Allam. Allah protect you.”
The Dragon's Breath Page 4