*****
The rest of the rabble arrived opposite the Sea Eagle, where they yelled and clawed at each other as they struggled for a place where they might leap across the widening watery gap. Many fell into the dirty water below with screams and howls of frustration, and then tried to swim towards the ship, which was now fully underway, but oh, so slowly. Others tried to leap across the space and fell short, still shouting. One energetic man managed to land on the side near to a stay where he hung on, desperately trying to pull himself up onto the side of the ship, but Umayr, one of the most senior members of the crew, yelled and slammed the end of a pole into him repeatedly until his grip loosened and he fell backwards with a scream of anger into the water below.
On the other ship, the maddened mob had run below decks, but some accident must have occurred. Flames began licking at the sides of the main deck hatchway, then they leapt to the ropes and canvas on the deck, and finally caught hold on the furled sails. The panicked men beat frantically at the flames with anything that came to hand but were powerless to stop the fire from taking hold of the rigging.
Before very long, the entire vessel, a beautiful three masted xebec, was in flames from one end to the other. The heat of the fire and the cloud of sparks rising into the sky made the men on the departing ship look apprehensively up at their own rigging, but by now their boat was well clear. A snapped order from the captain and men formed a bucket line and sloshed water over the sides and up onto the sails just in case. Talon nodded his approval.
The shouts and screams were of rage and hate as the mob brandished sticks and an assortment of weapons, cursing and screaming imprecations at the departing vessel. But the captain had his ship moving smoothly towards the exit of the harbor.
“Pedar Sag!” Reza swore. “I don’t care if the sultan is sick. I think we should leave this cursed place right now!”
Talon agreed and gave the final order to the captain to sail out of the harbor. They drew alongside the other two ships, which they could smell as they passed. The stink of human waste and filth was already pungent. Talon wondered how the crew could stand it.
Boulos and Imaran were both on their respective decks and shouted across the water. “What is the disturbance all about? Why are you leaving? Why is that ship burning?” he pointed back towards the wharf and the stricken vessel.
Talon glanced at the men around him, then he jumped onto the side, holding onto the ropes leaning out as he called back.
“It is the Heyda! We saw men dead on the street. Look back there! But for the grace of God we could be burning too.”
“Allah protect us!” Boulos exclaimed as he stared at the burning ship. He turned and shouted at his men to make sail. Imaran did the same. There was no need to encourage their sailors. In very short time both ships were under way and following in the wake of Talon’s ship.
On other vessels moored in the harbor, crews who had seen the incident on the quayside began to make hurried preparations for sea. No one wanted to be even close to a town infected with the Heyda.
Jannat came rushing back up on deck, alarmed by the shouting and the unexpected motion of the ship. She took one look a the grim faces of the men on deck and hastened to Reza’s side. They looked back towards the land and could now clearly see several fires that had taken hold in the town.
“I pray to God that we do not have the Heyda on this ship,” the captain muttered as he watched the receding harbor and the thick pall of smoke rising over the stricken town.
There was not much time to dwell upon the troubled town of Lamu, however. The clouds that had risen from the southern horizon were now overhead, and they were dense with rain. The wind picked up almost the moment they were clear of the shoals and sharp fangs of the reefs, causing the ship to heel suddenly as a gust struck as though from nowhere. The crew and the captain became very busy hauling in the three large sails and turning the ship in a northeasterly course as more gusts rippled the choppy sea.
“We are in for a blow, Master Talon,” the captain called over. “Please take the women below, and young Rostam, too.” This time there was no mistaking his command.
“Thank God we are clear of the pestilence,” Reza said, as they made their way to their communal cabin.
“Remember where we saw it first, brother?” Talon asked him in a low voice.
“Oh God! What if...?” Reza left the question unsaid, but his appalled expression said it all.
“What do you mean, my Reza?” Jannat demanded. She looked shaken by his agonized expression.
“When we first went to the barracoons we passed a very sick slave woman. The other slaves were terrified of her condition, and it is very likely that we saw her die of something more serious than just a simple fever. It could have been a sign of the Heyda,” Reza informed her.
“But Boulos and Imaran have bought slaves and have them on their ships!” Rav’an exclaimed, her eyes widening in horror.
“Yes, my Rav’an, they have. May God protect them,” Talon whispered.
There was a long silence in the cabin as they each tried to comprehend the dreadful implications.
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean—roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin—his control
Stops with the shore; upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own,
When for a moment, like a drop of rain,
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.
—Lord Byron
Chapter Eight
To Sail an Ocean
They fled North by North-East for two full days and nights with the strong gusting wind driving the vessels hard. The current that moved in a northward direction helped to speed the ships. The full storm caught up with them in the early hours of the second day and harried them with dense rain squalls and gusts of wind that threatened to tear away their tall triangular sails, but the captain was ready for this and took in enough sail to be able to keep going at a good pace without losing any rigging or canvas.
Talon admired the way the man played the squalls, always one step ahead of the elements. He also marveled at how well the ship handled in rough waters. He remembered the rounded, squat boats that the people from Europe sailed, which depended on the right wind to sail anywhere, and he admired this Sea Eagle that seemed to love the sea, rising and falling easily with the waves.
There was no possibility of stopping to see how the other two ships were faring, but there was a sense of dread on board.
On the dawn of the fifth day, the captain consulted his manuals and the watery sun, then turned the Sea Eagle on a heading that would take them due north. The wind was still brisk, which pleased the captain. Like everyone else, he kept casting apprehensive looks over his shoulder towards the other two vessels, which had maintained their station to their rear all through the storms; now at dawn he eased sail, and they began to catch up. Within two hours they were sailing parallel to the Sea Eagle, and before long they were close enough on either side to be within hailing range.
Boulos clambered onto the high sides of his ship and shouted across to them. Even from this distance he looked worried.
“I cannot tell if the sickness is with us or not. There have been some deaths, but that is normal on a voyage like this,” he called over. “Are you all well?”
To Talon nothing about this voyage seemed normal, but he could only take Boulos’s word for it. He waved and shouted back. “We are well. No sickness. Not yet, Insha’ Allah.”
Boulos waved back; he seemed relieved. “What of Imaran?” he called over.
Talon strode over to the other side of the deck to where he heard the exchange between the captain and Imaran. It was a very different situation with Imaran’s ship.
“We have the sickness! God help us, but we have the si
ckness.” Imaran called back to them.
There were frightened mutters from the men of the Sea Eagle who heard his words; even the captain looked fearful. All eyes were on Imaran’s ship as the crew dumped a body over the side, even as he called across to them. It landed with barely a splash in the choppy waters and was gone in a moment. Seconds later the water churned behind the ship and a large fin appeared briefly, to disappear again in a froth of reddish water. There was something terrifying and obscene about the spectacle of the fish feeding on the diseased corpse that left everyone who witnessed it silent and shocked. They all knew that but for the grace of God it could be them.
There was nothing they could do for their luckless companions, and there was no question about taking men off the other ship onto their vessel. Imaran understood this only too well.
“It is in the hands of Allah now. Go with God, and tell my father what happened,” he called across the water. They could all hear the resignation and despair in his voice.
“The sharks are following him. I wonder how many they have thrown overboard already if those monsters are following him like that?” Reza asked out loud.
Talon had no idea, but he noticed that there were fewer crew on the deck of Imaran’s ship than on his own ship or that of Boulos.
“Our ships are carrying the sickness back to Oman with us. Imaran knows this,” he said to the captain.
Without waiting for a reply, Talon hurried back to the starboard side of the ship and shouted the information to Boulos.
There was consternation at the news, that was clear, but Boulos shouted back, “If you are sure you do not have the sickness, you should continue to Aden, and then Raysut. There are horses there waiting for us at Raysut to take to Al Hind.”
“What will you do?” Talon shouted back. Horses seemed to be irrelevant, considering the peril the brothers and their ships were facing.
“What can I do? I must stay with my brother. We must find a place where we can stop until this sickness passes, God willing. Imaran cannot go to Muscat, or Aden for that matter, nor can I. It is at Aden we were going to sell our slaves, and then go on to Raysut, where there is also some al-lubān.” Talon knew this was the word for what he knew as Frankincense, the aromatic resin that was found in the foothills and on the escarpment around Raysat.
Because they didn’t carry slaves, they would be able to load up with about thirty horses, perhaps more, and then set sail across the wide expanse of the Bahr Al-Habasha—the Indian Ocean—directly to Kulam Mali, which was where they could sell the animals, and hopefully the rest of the cargo, concluding their venture.
“Go with God!” Boulos shouted.
The entire crew of the Sea Eagle called back the same. “God protect you. Go with God!”
The ships drew apart; there was nothing more to do. The Sea Eagle slowly pulled ahead of the other two, which had furled their sails to drift while the two brothers discussed their plight. Talon thought their options were bleak. With a heavy heart he joined the others, who were standing on the port side looking back at the two stricken ships. No one said anything.
*****
They stopped at Aden to buy some Myrrh, which the captain told Talon was very important to the merchants and the Chinese traders whom they should encounter in India. However, news of the Heyda had spread; there was suspicion and distrust, so they were unable to tarry, and within a couple of days they were sailing northwards to Raysat.
As Boulos had foretold, there were horses waiting for them there, brought all the way from the hinterland. Talon gazed up at the high escarpment several leagues inland and wondered how the tribesmen had managed to bring so many good animals down that steep slope.
It took them almost a week for the carpenters to prepare the ship to receive the horses, check their health, and load them. There were some small accidents, as the horses didn’t take kindly to the idea of being loaded onto a cramped ship. Fortunately, the crew had some experienced men among them who had done all this before, and with the guidance of the captain they managed to settle thirty horses in the hold for the long run to Kulam Mali. The strong smell of horses now pervaded the ship, but as Rav’an mentioned to Talon one day, “Rather the smell of these animals than the smell of death and the stench of those pitiful creatures from Africa.” He had to agree.
He had gone ashore with Reza and the captain to meet with the agent, a nondescript man who worked for the family Mardini. The agent had been shocked at the news of the brothers’ fate and had wept for them. He had clearly expected to send at least a hundred horses to Kulam Mali; for, as he had told the brothers, the prices were high because there was such a shortage. He was now stuck with horses he could not sell and was very unhappy about it.
They had found that the agent was not above slipping in some poor quality horses and weeded these out quickly enough, while he shrugged and pretended that it had been an oversight. Summer was well advanced as the year moved into October; although it was less humid here, it was still with some relief that they set sail again. They had discussed the option to go back to Muscat, but the agent informed them they would lose the advantage of the monsoon if they did so.
“The wind will continue for another three months, which will bring you to Kulam Mali and beyond if you so wish it, but if you delay you will find the winds against you, and then the horses will die of thirst because you will not have enough water for them and yourselves on such a long trip. Even with some good rains you will only just get there without some dying of thirst,” he informed them. “Come back to Muscat with the Kaws monsoon wind, which begins in the early part of next year, and avoid the pirates; they are a menace, and they appear to be everywhere.”
On that comforting note and with great reluctance they departed, leaving letters with him to be sent to Muscat to Doctor Haddad and Fariba and the Sheik Allam Mardini, informing them of the scourge that had followed them from Lamu and the disaster that had befallen his brothers. It was with a heavy heart that Talon instructed the captain to set sail for Kulam Mali, not knowing for sure when they might next see Fariba and the doctor again.
*****
Neither Talon nor Reza wanted the sea voyages to blunt their skills, so they devised a way to keep themselves both fit and alert.
Telling the captain to ensure that the crew was aware of what they were going to do, he and Reza took some sacks and stuffed them tight with hay purloined from the horses’ feed, then hung them off the forward mast at about the height of a man. The target could be clearly seen from the extreme after deck just above the steersmen.
Either Talon or Reza would start off at a run. Reaching the main central mast, which was about ten yards from the forward mast, they would have to spin about and loose an arrow at the target, then race up the first flight of stairs to the steering deck, repeat the action, and without pausing, race up the next short flight and fire an arrow from the railing overlooking the steering deck. The whole operation had to be conducted at top speed. They would do this at least ten times until they were almost spent, and then check the fall of their arrows. Neither Reza nor Talon ever missed the target; but to his chagrin, Yosef began to miss after four runs, whereupon Talon told him he would get into trouble with the captain if he continued to damage his ship.
Both Talon and Reza evoked gasps of surprise and admiration from the gathered onlookers as their arrows sped true to the targets in almost all cases. Yosef found himself a long way behind the others but clearly enjoyed the experience. Both he and Dar’an applied themselves to the task of trying to catch up with their more experienced elders.
Rostam clamored to be allowed to practice, but Talon went with him to ensure that he didn’t disable any of the crew or the steersmen. His reed arrows fell far short, but his delighted screams of excitement drew smiles from all.
It occurred to Reza that it might be a good thing if the crew learned to use bows, and Talon readily agreed. He turned the training over to Reza, who took the enthusiastic volunteers through their pace
s. Very few of the crew on board the ship had ever used a bow before, which surprised the two friends; but this kind of dynamic training appealed to the men, and they began to compete with one another.
Before long, they too were able to strike the target most of the time. The captain was not at all pleased when they missed and his precious railings or ship’s sides were impaled by a stray arrow, but Talon told him of the time when he had warded off pirates by means of archery and he was somewhat mollified. Still, those who missed the mark were made to repair the damage. This only served to make them focus the more on their accuracy.
Talon observed that the morale of the crew went up a few notches with this kind of exercise. Conscious of the threat of pirates he decided that he would provide more training with swords and knives. The men, unaware of Talon and Reza’s background, fancied themselves as masters of the art of knife fighting, but soon changed their minds after Reza gave the first lesson.
It was Tarif who first stepped forward in response to the offer. He towered over the slim Reza, who looked calmly back at the grinning sailor who held a long piece of wood as a substitute for a sword.
Talon was nearby and listened with silent amusement to the other members of the crew as they discussed Reza’s forthcoming discomfort. He knew exactly what was going to happen. The crewmen jostled and chuckled to one another as they stood in a wide circle round the two combatants standing in the waist of the ship.
“Tarif will kill him! Good thing it isn’t a real blade, or it would be paradise for Reza,” they joked with one another.
On a nod from Reza for the bout to begin, Tarif, still with a wide grin on his bearded face, jumped forward and swung his ‘blade’ up and then down hard and very fast. His intent had been to strike Reza on the head and end it right there. To his surprise, Reza was no longer where he had been, and then he felt an intense pain in his right shin where he had just been rapped.
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