Talon nodded as he recalled the discussion, one starlit night when they were all on deck taking advantage of the cool night air. The subject of Chogan had arisen, and Hsü had mentioned the legend of a fantastic trophy that had been lost hundreds of years before.
“Is that what it is? I haven’t seen it yet. I wonder how it came into Sing’s possession,” he mused. “He probably plundered if off a ship. If indeed it is a trophy. I’ll take a look at it later. I have been a little preoccupied since you got back from your little jaunt. Its all right for some of us to lie about being pampered by pretty girls, but the rest of us have been busy sailing this ship!”
Reza pretended to try and slap him and fell back with a wince and a grin. “I don’t mind the rest, my Brother.”
Talon grunted, “Don’t do anything to open those stitches. It took Rav’an and me two hours to put them in.” He left Reza and went to the storeroom, where he found the object that Reza had talked about. It had been piled in a corner of the room among the other sacks.
He unwound the silk and dropped it about the item that now rested squarely on the flat surface of the low table. He gasped at what he saw.
The object in front of him depicted two fierce looking creatures. On the left was a dragon, while the animal on the right was a lion. They appeared to be locked in mortal combat; the long tail of the dragon was looped around one of the back legs of the lion, the lion’s own tail lashing the air high behind it. Both creatures were standing on their back legs grappling with one another on a flat expanse of silver ground, creating a large arch with their bodies. Their fangs were bared in gaping jaws as if they were about to strike at one another with tooth and claw.
The creatures were so finely crafted in every detail, from the lion’s mane to the scales on the dragon, that Talon felt he could almost see them breathe. Their claws and their fangs had been carved to perfection from ivory. One of the eyes of the lion was a blank space but the other contained a sapphire set deep in its distorted, rage filled face, while those of the dragon were of pure, deep red ruby and stared malevolently back at its adversary from under the huge bones above its eyes.
Behind the two combatants was a background of the sun formed in gold with the crown of the ancient Shah Han Shah placed on top. The rays of the sun radiated out in an arc reaching the two animals, but that was not all.
Beneath the struggling beasts were two other figures: two men playing the game of Chogan. They rode small, fine ponies and were dressed in noblemen’s clothes, cloaks flying, wearing turbans and wielding mallets raised high above their heads with which they were about to strike a ball. The ponies were galloping towards the small ball, which rested in the very center of the piece of ground upon which the two players rode their ponies.
The hand’s span high Chogan players were very finely crafted of gold. Clearly they were men of high rank. Their eyes were intent upon the ball in front of them and they seemed oblivious of the mighty conflict taking place just above their heads.
The foundation for this struggle for domination was an oblong plinth of cracked and fissured black marble.
Talon reached forward and his finger stroked the shoulder of the lion. Suddenly he felt dizzy; the cabin darkened for a moment. He shook his head, for he heard the sound of shouting, the thunder of horses’ hooves, and the click of mallets striking balls. The hair on the back of his neck and forearms rose at what he was hearing; he gasped and snatched his hand away. The sound stopped instantly.
Talon was shaken. He stared warily at the trophy admiring the magnificent workmanship, detail by detail. After almost an hour he drew the silk up, careful not to touch the trophy for that is what he thought it was, covering the item. He then lifted it to place it in one of the cupboards. There would be time to discuss this with his family later. For now he was almost sure that Hsü had been right. This was the trophy of legend that dated back to a Shah who had lived many hundreds of years ago.
He was still in a state of shock when he came on deck to find Rav’an and Rostam standing on the after deck. “My Talon!” she exclaimed when she saw him examining his wound at the same time. She reached up to touch the area lightly with her fingers. “It is healing well but there will be a scar my Love. Are you well?” she asked with concern. “You look as though you have seen a ghost!”
He was not yet ready to share the experience with anyone, so he said, “I am just tired, my Love. How are you, Rostam?” he asked.
“Well, Papa,” the boy said happily. “I like to sail.”
“It is true, he does,” Rav’an said, looking down fondly at their offspring.
“You will have to assist me with our calculations very soon, my son,” Talon told him. “Our first big test is to make the islands of Langabalus. We will need to take on water there to ensure that we can sail all the way to The Island of Rubies.”
*****
One week later, the man posted in the basket at the top of the main mast shouted down to them that there was land to their starboard side. Talon was quietly exultant, his first big test was over. He had been consumed with anxiety up to this point, having barely slept, but they had arrived at the islands and could take on water before the long haul. They spent a few days anchored off the largest island, loading up with fresh fruit and vegetables and some goats and chickens. Then on the dawn of the fourth day, with an eye on the weather and still trying to catch up on time, they struck out for Ceylon.
During this stage of the voyage they had time to look over the treasure the men had captured and assess its value. Talon was stunned at what they had brought back with them. He stared at a King’s ransom spread across the living room floor, with Rav’an and Jannat in attendance. The work of dividing it up into fair shares would take some time. He did, however, inform the crew that to a man they were rich once they arrived in Muscat. He put aside a good part to pay to Captain Dandachi’s family.
He also visited Reza who was still resting. “Now you can marry Jannat, and be quick about it!” he told his friend.
“Should I marry her?” Reza asked seriously.
“If you do not, then you will be disowned by all of us, my Reza!” Rav’an told him as she came into the room, having heard the last part of the conversation.
Reza looked uncomfortable. “Rav’an, I don’t have any riches to give her and she is after all, a Princess.”
Rav’an stared at him and then at Talon. “I have never heard such nonsense, Reza! Have you forgotten the treasure? You are a rich man. Your share of the treasure alone has made you a very wealthy man. Why, you can even afford your own stable of horses, and much, much more. Besides, don’t you realize that she loves you, heart and soul? Although I have no idea why.” Rav’an gave him a withering look.
“Reza, you are indeed a rich man in your own right, so that’s not a good excuse any more. You can even afford to join Allam in the camel racing business!” Talon laughed at Reza’s comical grimace.
“You had better do some serious thinking while we are on the way home, or you will be answering to me!” Rav’an threatened him, wagging her finger.
Reza rolled his eyes, but he was clearly happy; he seized Rav’an’s hand and kissed it. “Where would I be without my family?” he asked with a cheeky grin.
*****
Three weeks later, another lookout called down from the basket at the top of the main mast. “I see land! God be praised, I see land! It is the Island of Rubies, I am sure of it!”
The men who were on deck stopped what they were doing and cheered wildly, waving their hands in the air and prancing about, praising God. Others who had been below came running up on deck. All were looking up at Talon with joyful expressions on their sun darkened, bearded faces.
Talon leaned on the steering deck rail, staring down at his villainous looking crew. Inwardly he was bursting with pride. They had made landfall almost to within a few days of his and Rostam’s calculations. He blessed his boy. Rostam had a natural talent for navigation, and Talon knew it would stand
him in good stead later on in life. The boy had helped to bring them to their most important destination. Those endless days of poring over Captain Dandachi’s chronicles and the other navigation texts, along with painstaking observations made with Rostam appeared to have paid off. He had worried himself sick with the thought that even a small mistake could cost all of them their lives. Before the call he had been exhausted from lack of sleep and the constant worry, but not now. This moment was one to savor.
“Why are they cheering, and why are you looking at me like that?” Talon growled at Abdullah and Waqqas, who were standing on the steering deck with him. Both men were hopping from foot to foot and beaming with emotion.
Waqqas finally said, “Why Captain, they are cheering you!” He said this with a wide smile displaying the black gaps in his teeth and waved his hands in the air rather like a praying mantis. Abdullah was also wearing a huge grin on his face. Talon was afraid the two men were going to kiss him. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Rav’an and Jannat had appeared on deck with an excited Rostam between them. He beckoned them up to join him by the rail.
“We have all been holding our breath for about a week now, Captain,” Waqqas said. “None of us are navigators, thus not one of us could help you, so we were in God’s hands ... and yours. Had we been too far south there is no land before Africa after Ceylon. We would have perished from lack of water and food.
“Your skill is now established as a Navigator. You are one with our Omani people, a Nabatean, a true navigator of the desert and the sea! God be praised, but now we all know that you will bring us home safely, Captain!”
“You too, Rostam. You are also a navigator,” Talon told his son, who was beaming with pride.
THE END
Author’s Note
When I started on this book I had known something of the nautical skills of the Omani sailors; however, as I progressed with the research I realized just how little I knew. I became more and more interested, and amazed, at what they had accomplished at a time when the European ships could only sail with the wind directly behind them in the relative calm of the Mediterranean Sea. The ships of the Omani and the Chinese could sail much closer to the wind, thereby they could sail almost anywhere, more or less at will. Remember we are talking about the 8th to the 12th Century.
This allowed them to traverse the vast distances of the Indian Ocean and the China sea, survive the deadly Cyclones and Taiphoons and make accurate land fall in remote places. The Omani and Persians were, in their time, navigators without peer. Their navigational books show us how they accomplished these remarkable journeys and, in the very early days, it was without even a compass to assist them! The Chinese invented that instrument.
The Omani and Persian merchants established trade routes that were governed by the Monsoons, “The Trade winds” as they were later known, both to and from India and China, thus establishing a ‘Silk Route’ via the sea lanes which few Europeans had ever heard about.
It is therefore very plausible that Talon could sail all the way to China, as many Omani did in his time. When he arrived there he would have found a civilization that made even the Byzantium Empire seem backward. I will not list the incredible inventions of the Sung dynasty times, they are too numerous, although I have alluded to some. The Sung dynasty was one of the most remarkable and advanced periods of Chinese history to date, putting them some several hundred years ahead of Byzantium. Byzantium and indeed the Moslem world were themselves at least hundred years ahead of the Europeans, who were still squabbling amongst themselves over patches of arable land.
I invented nothing that was not already recorded and documented about the Sung; they were astonishing enough in their own right.
The great paradox is the fact that even with all their very advanced weapons, highly educated people and manufacturing skills, the Chinese of the Sung were eventually overrun in 1276 by the Mongols. It might lie in the fact that the emphasis across the country, and particularly in the Emperor’s palace, was placed upon degreed administrators who, while very learned, did not fully understand the peril their country faced. They were intensely preoccupied with maintaining the status quo. Hence they did not pay enough attention to their military, which was essential, even as it is today, as a bulwark against the barbarians who would destroy the bright light of civilization.
James Boschert
Preview of The Magician
Talon struggled with his tight bonds, trying to feel if there might be any slack which would allow him to move his hands. A hideous ache pounded inside his head. Near him he heard a low groan. It came from Reza, who was lying trussed up within a few feet. Talon lifted his head to look around the darkened room and noticed another body in one corner. It was quite still. He couldn’t make out who it might be, but hoped that it wasn’t dead.
He nudged Reza, who stirred and lifted his bruised and bloodied face to look at him. “How did this happen?” he asked groggily.
“No time to talk, Brother. They took my boots, so they found my knife. We need to get free at once!” Talon whispered.
“I have a small one on me,” Reza croaked.
“Where?” Talon asked eagerly.
“Inside... inside my pants.”
“You mean... inside your...?”
“Yes, Brother, inside there.”
Talon shook his head. “You are full of surprises. Very well, turn over and I’ll try to get it out. You’ll have to guide me... if you know what I mean. What does Jannat think of you keeping a knife there?”
“None of your business, now will you get hold of it?”
Reza hunched his way over until he was very close to Talon’s back, then even closer to where Talon’s bound hands made contact.
“In there?” Talon’s tone was incredulous.
“Yes, and be careful... Oooo! Not there!” Reza jerked back. “In the front, above my you-know-whats.”
“All right! All right!” Talon grunted testily. “Get closer.”
Reza shuffled forward again. Talon’s fingers groped and Reza flinched. “Ouch! Do you mind? Not there! Higher up... higher there, inside the belt.”
“Sorry, Ah!” Talon’s fingers felt the hard handle of a small knife tucked into Reza’s under belt.
After much hurried fumbling, they managed to loosen the small weapon so that it dropped onto the tiled floor with a tiny clatter. Reza rolled over and Talon pushed the blade into his fingers, then inched himself towards the knife ,which Reza now gripped.
Within seconds the razor sharp blade had cut his bonds, then it took only a moment to free his brother.
They both scrambled to their feet, rubbing their sore wrists and ankles to get the circulation going again. The bonds had been tight.
“How did we get into this place?” Reza whispered.
“Drugged, and I think I know by whom,” Talon ground out, shaking his head gingerly. He still had a monster of a headache. He hurried over to the body lying in the corner, dreading what he was going to find. He gave a hiss of relief when he saw that it was only one of the guards to the gate, evidently tossed in here after they had killed him.
“Wish I had my sword,” Reza commented, still rubbing his wrists and looking around him for some way out of this room. It was a storeroom, although there was not much in it. It looked as though it had been abandoned for a long time. Dust was everywhere, and there was little in the way of equipment other than a broken harness lying on the floor.
“We’re going to have to get out of here as fast as possible and find out what is going on out there.”
“I fear the worst!” Reza said darkly.
Just then they heard the murmur of voices outside and the grate of a key in the lock, then metal bars were slid away with a scrape of iron on wood. Both men rushed over to stand on either side of the door, pressing themselves against the mud brick walls.
The door was thrown open and men, still talking, strode into the darkened room. For a moment they peered into the gloom, looking f
or their prisoners; it was enough for Talon and Reza to strike. Talon’s forehead collided with the nearest man’s cheekbone, stunning him; a sinewed hand seized the guard’s sleeve and pulled hard, as Talon whirled inside the man’s sword arm and then heaved his victim off his feet to toss him, now minus sword, into the arms of the guard who was just behind him.
Reza had slammed his small knife backwards into the throat of the man nearest to him. As the guard fell to his knees, Reza deftly relieved him of his sword and in one fluid motion thrust it into the chest of the man directly behind his first victim. Both Talon and Reza used their new-found weapons with savage intensity, bringing all their training in China to work for them. The guards barely had time to gasp, let alone cry out, before they were lying dead in a heap at the entrance of the storeroom.
Barely breathing hard, the two men paused to look down at their victims. “Just as I thought,” said Reza. “I recognize these two. They are from the Master.” He looked up at Talon. “He has sent his dogs after us, Talon.”
Talon nodded. “Then we must find Rav’an and the others immediately. No one will be safe!”
About The Author
James Boschert
James Boschert grew up in the then colony of Malaya in the early fifties. He learned first hand about terrorism while there as the Communist insurgency was in full swing. His school was burnt down and the family, while traveling, narrowly survived an ambush, saved by a Gurkha patrol, which drove off the insurgents.
He went on to join the British army serving in remote places like Borneo and Oman. Later he spent five years in Iran before the revolution, where he played polo with the Iranian Army, developed a passion for the remote Assassin castles found in the high mountains to the North, and learned to understand and speak the Farsi language.
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