“Where is this treasure of yours?” Reza demanded.
Sing pointed down the corridor towards the bronze door. “In there. More than you have ever dreamed of! My treasure, and I will willingly share it with you, only spare my life!” he pleaded.
“Open it!” Reza pushed him roughly towards the door.
“I need to have my key,” Sing protested. “It is in my bedroom.”
With the sword pressed against his naked back, Sing lead the way back into the bedroom where the woman was still asleep. “Get dressed and find the key,” Reza ordered him.
Sing moved towards a cabinet while Reza watched him carefully. But in the dark he didn’t see the knife that Sing slipped into his clothing, even as he raised the large iron key high and kept it on his forefinger, high enough to distract Reza.
Reza backed off to let Sing pass, but then Sing lunged. The knife was long and could have eviscerated Reza had it cut deeply enough. As it was, Sing underestimated the reaction of his opponent. Reza side-stepped the knife and slashed down onto Sing’s arm with his sword. The forearm and the knife fell to the floor and Sing gave a bellow of agony. He snatched at the stump, which was squirting blood, with a look of horror on his face. Reza raised the sword to deliver the final blow, but this last act of treachery made him hesitate.
He knocked Sing to the floor unconscious, and reached for the key, which had fallen to the floor. The woman in the bed woke up to Sing’s scream and began to shriek with terror herself. There was no time to lose. Reza leapt over the bed and tapped her on the side of her jaw with the pommel of his sword, then laid her back on the bed and attended to Sing, who was slowly waking up. Reza hurriedly fashioned a bandage over the stump of the wound. He could already hear some sounds of alarm, so he hauled the groaning man to his feet and dragged him out of the room down the corridor towards the bronze door. His men were piling into the corridor, looking anxious. The he felt blood on his leg and looked down. His pants were dark with his own blood, Sing had dealt him a dangerous wound. He didn’t feel any real pain yet, but he held the cloth to the area where it was located.
“We have one stop to make!” Reza told the men, and threw Sing into the arms of two of his men. “Hold onto him, do not let him escape. He is our way out.” They seized the gasping, groaning man and held him tight while Reza fumbled with the lock and key. He wrenched the padlock off the hasp, slid the iron bars back with a snap, then hauled open the door.
“You are wounded, Reza!” Dar’an cried, pointing to the red stain at his waist.
“‘It’s nothing. We don’t have time to waste,” Reza snapped.
The room was in utter darkness, so he seized one of the lamps nearby and raised it on high at the entrance of the doorway. Then he gasped. His men crowded around him at the entrance, and they too gaped at the sight in front of them. There were stacks of silver ingots alongside an open chest of gold and another of pearls. Fine silks were piled high and expensive carpets were draped over boxes. There were other caskets that were closed, but Reza could imagine what might be inside them.
Take what you can carry but we must leave!” he ordered the men as he bound his shemagh tight about his waist. The pain was beginning to bite. One item caught his eye, and he decided that he had to take it. He reached for it and dragged it out from under some silk cloth. He had the strange sensation that he was listening to a game of Chogan as he did so.
“We must leave!” he repeated urgently, with an ear cocked to the noises coming from the other room. He wrapped the item up in a swath of silk and handed it off to one of the men. “Do not drop this, nor leave it behind,” he ordered.
The men set to with a will. A couple made threatening gestures with their weapons at the women who were coming out into the corridor, and they screamed and fled back into their rooms. The men laughed. They were sorely tempted to follow, but Reza didn’t want their group to disintegrate into a plundering mob of rapists, so he called them sharply to order. They obeyed without question, even as they cast longing looks in the direction of the women. The group now carried six small chests and several sacks of silver, including the bulky item that Reza had given to one man and told to guard well.
“This way!” Reza called as he led the way back towards the main hall and the men reluctantly abandoned the chamber. As they headed for the main hall Reza called out.
“Dar’an, throw one of those thunder ball things into the treasure room when I open the door.”
It took only a moment for Dar’an to light the bomb, and as Reza flung open the door he tossed it into the chamber and ducked out of the way, while Reza slammed the door shut and slid home a bolt.
The explosion in the confined space of the treasure room on the other side of the door was like a muffled clap of thunder, and the door sagged. One of the men who had been peering into the main chamber called back urgently.
“There are men in the main chamber, Master Reza! What do we do? They are coming this way!”
That posed a problem. Reza thought rapidly.
“Another one, Dar’an!” He ordered and opened the door to allow Dar’an to toss a hissing and smoking bamboo bomb into the room which now had several guards running across the bloody floor towards them. He slammed the door and waited for the explosion which again deafened them, buckled the door and shook the walls. “These are mighty weapons!” he said to himself with a wolfish grin at the men clustered about them.
Someone laughed and then they were all laughing, baying like predatory hounds who scented a kill. He threw the door open and led his men in a wild charge across the room full of stunned and wounded men. Two men tried to stop them, only to die from two strokes of Reza’s sword. The men behind him stabbed at anyone who moved as they ran by. The floor was now covered in human as well as snake blood, upon which the men slipped and slid as they scurried towards the entrance on the other side.
As he went past the main doors to the outside there was a flash of lightning and a deafening explosion from the area of the gates. The very air around them was compressed and hammered at their ears. Earthenware pots shattered and brass lanterns fell to the floor with ringing clangs. Men slipped to their knees, dropping what they were carrying, cursing and holding their hands to their ears. The explosion came from the gates, so Reza figured that the two men he had left there would have heard the noise within and understood that it was time to leave. In doing so they had left a parting gift behind. The gates would be no more.
“Make sure he doesn’t get away!” Reza shouted to the two men who held onto Sing, as they all picked themselves up and ran full tilt up the stone stairs towards the pavilion. By now the whole palace was awake. Men spilled out onto the courtyard, but even more now rushed the main entrance, and spears were thrown at the disappearing backs of the men running up the stairs. They lost the last man in line but one; he grunted with pain as a spear found its mark, toppling him back down to the feet of the angry guards who hacked him to death.
The rest emerged onto the top wall near to the pavilion, hampered by their loot. “Throw a Greek Fire ball down at them,” Reza called. One of the group knelt and scraped a flint. A stream of sparks fell onto the rag attached to the bomb, it smoldered then caught fire as someone blew gently on the ember. In a moment it was lit and he stood up to toss it into the opening of the stairs.
There was a crash and then a bright flame lit up the stairway followed by screams from below. Two of his group were still holding onto Sing, who was now protesting loudly and calling back to his own men to follow. Despite the pain of his wound he was in a spitting rage.
Who did we lose?” Reza asked the men.
“It was the man Hanji, Master Reza,” one of the crew told him. “He was right in front of me when a spear got him.”
“Now that is what I call God’s justice,” Reza murmured. He turned his attention back to Sing
“I will have you thrown to the Tiger, you scum!” Sing screamed. “You are a thieves and a pirates! You will suffer such a fate as I ca
n only imagine for you!” Sing stopped, incoherent with rage, his lips drooling spittle. He spat it out at Reza, who calmly wiped the mess off his shirt and said, “It is you who is the pirate, Master Sing. It was your man Amar who attacked our ship. What harm had we done you? Your servant and his ship are now at the bottom of the sea.” His voice was as cold as ice.
Men were trying to get up the stairs to attack the Sea Eagle crew, but were being held off with spears and arrows. “Throw a another pot down at them. That will get their attention,” Reza suggested. One man gave a fierce chuckle and a flint was produced. Within a moment the oil fuse was burning. Making sure that it was well lit, the man tossed the pot down the dark entrance and pulled back. There was a flare of light and then more screams and yells from below. A Thunder Ball followed to add to the confusion and hopefully to start a good fire.
Sing gaped at him. “You have sunk my ship?” he stammered.
“Your men killed my friend, our captain. That is the reason we are here,” Reza stated.
Sing began to shout insults and imprecations. Reza hauled his struggling prisoner to the edge of the wall where Sing stood facing him suddenly aware of what was about to happen to him. “No, No!” he shouted as he pushed back against the sword that was held to his chest, his face grey with terror. It pricked him but he tied to push away from the edge with growing urgency. With a shove of his sword that struck Sing in the ribs Reza pushed back. Sing could not maintain his balance and began to fall.
“No!” he screamed again as he fell over backwards into the compound. They all heard the scream and the thud as Sing hit the ground, and then the shriek of terror, which told Reza what he needed to know. He didn’t wait to hear the awful shrieks of agony that were abruptly cut off as the tiger closed with its kill.
The guards, unaware that their leader was now dead, continued to try to gain a foothold on the terrace, but a Thunder Ball kept them at the bottom of the tunnel, its explosion deafening in the narrow confines of he stairway. Fires had started below that were creating even more havoc in the building. Reza led the way to the rope on the wall where his men shimmied down one after the other, still clutching the chests and sacks or tossing them down to others already on the ground then they ran full pelt for the darkness of the jungle path.
Reza waited until the last two, and then he and his men laid another small barrel of powder at the entrance way to that section of the wall, lit the fuse, and then they hurled themselves down the rope and raced for the protection of the jungle. There was a flash that lit up the sky, followed by an explosion that shook the ground and made the air reverberate. Reza glanced up at the walls but couldn’t see anything for the dust and smoke that obliterated the scene.
Turning away he stumbled, almost doubled over with the pain of his wound but recovered and hurried after his men down the trail towards the sea. As they ran, the jungle they were running through was showered with stones and large sized rocks which threatened to kill anyone they struck.
O CAPTAIN! My Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting.
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
—Walt Witman
Chapter Thirty-Five
The Navigator
Talon stood next to Rav’an who held his hand tightly while Jannat and Rostam stood nearby. Indeed, all the crew who were still on the ship were now clustered at the sides, staring up towards the dark hill where the palace stood. It was well after midnight, and a good hour and a half since the landing party had departed.
Suddenly they all saw a distant flash and heard the flat rumble of an explosion.
“It has begun,” Talon said shortly. Rav’an gripped his hand even tighter.
Not long after there was another, larger flash that lit up the entire hilltop followed by a roll of thunder. Then the night went dark and silent. No one spoke on the ship as everyone waited in nervous silence for Reza and his crew to reappear on the beach.
It was a long wait, full of doubts and worries. A full hour later, they all heard the splash of oars, and the two boats came into sight. To the people in the ship it was an enormous relief. Men rushed to the sides to help men aboard who carried chests and sacks, which they dumped on the deck with a clatter. They were greeted with subdued but intense relief.
However, the returning men were not celebrating as they should have; there was something wrong. By the light of the many torches Talon could see the tense and drawn faces of the landing party.
“What happened? Were you successful?” He demanded. His words were greeted with some mumbles. He snatched a torch from one of the crew and searched in vain for Reza. Dar’an came rushing up the ladder to him to tell him what had happened.
“It is Reza, Talon! He is wounded and fainted on the way back.”
Jannat gave a small cry and would have fallen had Waqqas not caught her and handed her to Rav’an, who held her while she wept.
Dar’an was all but wringing his hands. “We have staunched the wound, but he must be brought up with great care.”
They wasted no time in bringing Reza up from the boat. In the flickering light of the torches the men handled him with all the care they would have given a favorite child, and laid him down gently on the deck. Someone placed a folded sack under his head.
Talon, remembering his role as captain, immediately commanded the boats to be hoisted on board and Abdullah to have men pull up the anchors raise the sails. They needed to back the ship and then turn it in the narrow channel. It would take a seaman to do that and only Waqqas and Abdullah knew how.
Waqqas began shouting orders. As the ship moved back down the channel Talon walked over to where Reza was lying on the deck still surrounded by some crewmen who were babbling and chattering with concern. Abdullah pushed a path through the packed group, shouting over the din, “Make way for the Captain! Give him space to see!” The men pulled back respectfully, some murmuring, “Its the Captain. Make way.” Abdullah wasted no time putting them to work maneuvering the ship out of the channel and towards the open sea.
Talon noticed none of this, he had sick feeling in his stomach. Kneeling, he told the men nearby to raise the torches high to enable him to see better, and lifted away the bloody clothing.
He peering down at the wound and almost wept with relief at what he saw. Due to his fast reaction Reza had saved his own life. The cut was deep and he had lost much blood, which was why he was so weak, but with care he would live. The knife had sliced along his torso below his ribs but had not cut into any vital organs, nor were any exposed. Talon replaced the clothing and said, “Reza will live. He is badly wounded, but God willing, we can take care of that.”
The pent up relief from the men exploded in cheers and shouts of joy. Men wept and danced around each other with happiness at the news.
“Take him below and place him on a table where I can take care of him. Be careful with him!” Willing hands lifted Reza up and carried him with great care below.
Talon stared around him at the jumble on the deck. “Tarif, what is all this?” Talon asked, waving his arm at the pile of sacks and small chests all around.
“We discovered a treasure, Captain,” Tarif laughed, “and Reza told me to give this to you.” He pointed to a silk-wrapped item that was placed next to the chests.
“Take it all below to my cabin, Tarif. I will leave this to you to do. Yosef, help him,” Talon ordered. He was too distracted by Reza’s wound to think about the treasure. It barely registered that he had been called captain.
“Dar’an go below and see to Reza. Put wads of clean cotton cloth over the wound to stop it bleeding. I shall be down soon,” he said next. The men complied willingly.
He told Waqqas and Abdullah to sail the ship out of the channel and to call him when they were clear. He then went up to Rav’an and Jannat and said, “He is wounded and has fainted fr
om loss of blood, but he will be all right as long as we can sew him up and keep the wound clean. Jannat, it will fall upon you to nurse him.”
Rav’an gasped with relief; Jannat embraced him, crying into his shoulder.
“We must work fast to stem the bleeding and to sew him up. Come below with me; I will need your help,” Talon told them.
*****
Two days later they were on a course that Talon had estimated would take them near the Langabalus islands where, should he be accurate enough with his navigation, they would take on fresh water and enough fresh food to see them to Ceylon.
Talon was tired, but reasonably satisfied that they were far enough north to ensure that they made landfall, so he left the steering deck and made his way down below to see if Reza was awake. He found Jannat by his side half asleep, looking wan and exhausted. She had not left his side since he had been settled in a bunk. Reza was awake, and despite his wound he was back to his usual cheerful self.
He greeted Talon with a croak of pleasure, which woke Jannat up. She shook her head and stared owlishly at Talon, who smiled and told her to go to bed. She left reluctantly, with a kiss to Reza, leaving the men alone.
“If the stories I hear from all the crew are to be believed, my Brother, you are quite the hero,” Talon said, gripping Reza’s hand. “You gave me a fright coming back in that condition. Dar’an was very upset, and so were all the men.”
“I was careless, Brother. I didn’t kill that Sing when I should have. But then if I had, we would never have discovered his treasure! Besides, he provided a meal for the tiger.” He laughed, then winced with the pain of his wound.
Talon grinned. “So he got what he liked to deal out to his victims? It couldn’t have been a better fate!”
“Have you had a look at that thing I brought back with me?” Reza demanded. “Didn’t Hsü talk about some kind of trophy? I remember one night Chogan came up in the conversation. He told us about this legend of a polo trophy that the Chinese had won in Persia.”
The Dragon's Breath Page 54