Swords of Arabia: Warlord

by Anthony Litton

  “Gentlemen,” he paused and allowed his eyes to sweep across them; his gaze making it quite clear what, regardless of his words, he really felt about his uninvited visitors. “I understand from Lieutenant Celik, here, that you wished to see the commandant? You have something you want? Or want to ask him?” he waved his hands vaguely.

  “Neither,” said Nasir bitingly, appalled at the dilatory and limp-wristed greeting he was receiving after he and his men had risked their lives to deliver their message. “We have information that our Sheikh, the Lord Fouad, believes important enough to deliver to your chief himself, not......” He paused and went on with what were obviously his second choice of words, “a deputy…… however, important,” adding, with scarcely veiled sarcasm.

  Noting the near-insult, the officer was less offended than surprised at the verbal ability of one he took to be little better than an uneducated Bedu. Raising one elegant eyebrow a fraction he adjusted his tone slightly. Picking his words with a little more care, the Captain, whose name, if he'd ever been told it, Nasir had already forgotten, said, “I appreciate your concern, but I assure you that any message you have can be left with me and I will convey it to His Excellency myself.”

  “Very well,” responded Nasir, shrugging his shoulders, and handing over Fouad’s letter. “We have to travel back swiftly to our own country, so can't delay. Lord Fouad has discovered that ibn Saud is sending warriors to invade this town as part of his conquest of Arabia.”

  “Ah! That one again!” responded the Captain, with a little laugh. “We thank your Sheikh. It must be the third, or is it the fourth, warning we've had this year!” He sighed, as he languidly mopped his brow

  Nasir was astounded both at the rudeness that his message had elicited and the casual way it was received.

  “I will, of course, see that the commander receives your – ah, words of warning,” the officer said.

  “Do so,” Nasir responded bluntly. “The Lord Fouad does not deal in false and silly stories. He would not have sent this warning had he not believed – no – known, it to be true. Nor would he have sent me, his brother, were it the fool's errand you seem to think.”

  “We thank the Lord Fouad for his message. We always value such signs of friendship from ....our allies,” the Turkish captain responded with a cool smile, “I wish you a safe journey back to your home,” he added perfunctorily, as he turned his attention back to his paperwork.

  Nasir, seeing the meeting was at an end, turned and left the office in a cold fury.

  The young lieutenant closed the door behind him and turned to Nasir, “My name is Celik, Kerim Celik,” he said, courteously. “As you have travelled a great distance, you must rest as our guests, for tonight at least,” he continued. His courteous manner went some way, as he'd hoped it would, to repairing the damage done by his superior's negligent and supercilious attitude.

  Nasir hesitated, a hot refusal on his lips, but common sense prevailed. They were all exhausted by their gruelling journey and a few hours sleep would meant they could make travel at a much faster pace in the morning.

  “Very well, I thank you. We must be away before dawn, though. Will the gates be open?”

  “I will make sure they are,” responded the young officer, relieved his gesture had not been thrown back in his face by the proud young tribesman. Had it happened, he would not have blamed the young traveller at all, after the discourteous and dismissive way his warning had been received.

  “Do not be too angry at him,” he jerked his head back towards the office they'd just left. “It is his way; he thinks it is the way the upper classes behave,” he added with the thinly veiled, casual contempt of one who was, self-evidently, of those classes. “But he will ensure your warning is passed on. He daren't do otherwise.” That his young subordinate feared that it would do little good for other reasons, he diplomatically didn't tell the small group of clearly offended men.

  To make some further small amends he escorted them himself to the simple but clean quarters they'd be occupying for the night. He said he would have their horses fed and watered and the rest of Nasir's band sent to join them. Finally, ensuring that food and water was brought in for the travellers, he left, saying he would have them woken in the early hours so they could be well clear of the town itself before dawn broke.

  Nasir told those of his men who'd not been at the meeting the bare outlines of his conversation, without telling them of the insulting way it had been received. The two men who had been in the Captain's office, however, were much more forthcoming and left out few details of the insulting interview. So much so, that the rest became very fired up at the insult to Nasir and to Fouad. It was only with some difficulty he could restrain them from hurrying round and dragging the officer out and throwing him into the dust.

  “Enough! We have delivered our message. Our task is done. It is now down to the Ottoman to believe us, or not. We must eat now, and then sleep and be away early.”

  Nasir himself, however, slept little and when he did, slept badly. Assured that they'd be woken early, he had eaten a little and gone to bed early. He felt relief that his job in al Hofuf was done; or rather he'd done his best to do it. The rest was now up to the Turkish command. He had to get back to Narash. If what Turki had said about not being the only one, he knew Fouad would need all the loyal men he could gather round him. He'd triumphed before, but this time, the danger was even deadlier. If ibn Saud was coming to the eastern provinces and if he did attack and succeed in capturing Hofuf he'd be uncomfortably near Narash itself. He was not the sort of leader to let such an opportunity to attack his blood enemies go by, particularly if he scented division at their very heart.

  Soon, Nasir was wide-awake. So he and Mamduh walked round the dusty streets of the town. They even mounted the steps up to the battlements, where to their surprise, no one challenged them. What they saw depressed them both. It didn't have the air of a town under threat. Despite the late hour, its souks were bustling with vendors carrying on their trade with no hint of anxiety and their customers were laughing, bartering and arguing. Everything was much too normal in the face of what they both knew to be a very real threat.

  Their walk along the battlements both assured and depressed them in equal parts. The fortifications themselves seemed in reasonable repair, the walls high and well maintained. The garrison, however, was another matter entirely. The sentries on the walls seemed bored and indifferent in their scruffy, ill-fitting uniforms. They showed little of the discipline Nasir had seen in similar British troops when he was in Kuwait. a year or two earlier. There was something else too, something they couldn't quite isolate. Whatever it was, it left them both feeling despondent and yet more determined than ever to leave even before dawn broke, the following day.

  They returned to their quarters and, even more depressed, at last fell asleep. Suddenly, however, they were all jolted awake by men shouting and the sound of a lot of gunfire; gunfire, Nasir quickly realised, not on the surrounding walls, but right in the town itself.

  Chapter 25

  Leaping off the pallets where they'd been sleeping, the whole group hurried to the window overlooking the main square. By the flickering light of the torches placed around its sides, they saw a scene of absolute pandemonium. Many soldiers, on both the battlements and down in the square itself, were firing indiscriminately into the shadows. Yet others were shouting and gesticulating down a side-street from where the sound of returning gunfire could be clearly heard. Nasir quickly saw, by the number of soldiers falling in the large open space, that whoever was firing at the troops knew what they were doing.

  Whatever is happening, it is more than some petty skirmish or band of thieves, he thought; then sudden, appalled realisation hit him! “Merciful Allah! It's ibn Saud's army! It must be! Quickly! We must get down and help!”

  “With what? We have few weapons!” protested Abdul.

  “There are plenty down there,” Nasir, said grimly, hurriedly finishing dressing. “And their o
wners no longer have use for them!” he added, equally grimly, as another glance out of the window showed yet more casualties of the bullets racing into the square from the as yet unseen enemy. “Hurry!” he said and, with that, they raced down the narrow stairs out into the open – and ran right into gunfire peppering the walls around them! Fortunately it was both wild and badly aimed, as the clearly panicked soldiers continued to be unfocused in their ragged fight-back and, miraculously, none of their small party were hit.

  “They're with us!” shouted a voice and Nasir was relieved to recognise the young lieutenant from the evening before. He seemed to be one of the few trying to co-ordinate some sort of organised resistance against the attackers.

  Nasir waved a hasty thanks as, stooping low, they ran from body to fallen body, quickly arming themselves. Most of the rifles were too modern for them to use easily at first, but they quickly learnt that just pointing them and pressing the trigger worked pretty well.

  As more soldiers were roused and joined in the firing, it seemed as though the defenders would win the fight and hold the town. But then a chilling cry went up. “They've opened the gates; we can't hold them! Fall back! Fall back to the fort!” With that cry, what little cohesion and discipline the defending force possessed evaporated as swiftly and completely as water poured into sand as the defenders turned and ran. Many in their haste even dropping their weapons, in what turned quickly into a panicked rout rather than an organised withdrawal.

  Appalled at what they were seeing, Nasir and his men initially tried to continue the fight, but the rapidly emptying square warned them that, if they stayed, they'd soon be on their own. Following the fleeing troops and running quickly down streets which got steadily darker the further they moved from the square, they quickly reached the fort, its high, mud walls promising safety.

  Almost the last through the huge gates, Nasir and his men were scarcely inside before they were slammed shut behind them. Taking advantage of the comparative security the old fort offered, Nasir stood and watched the defenders, expecting to see a rapid re-grouping before they all moved to the walls and continued its defence. What he actually saw was little more than a repeat of the pandemonium and disorder he'd just witnessed in the square and surrounding streets. Men ran about everywhere, some shouting orders, a few trying to obey, but most just milling about. Nasir later acidly told Fouad, that they were like a flock of headless chickens, rather than part of the trained army of one of the greatest powers in Arabia. Indeed, if what they heard from traders wasn't mere campfire story-telling, one of the greatest in the world.

  There were exceptions. A few small groups of soldiers, particularly the one under the command of the young Turkish lieutenant, were moving purposefully through the leaderless rabble. By virtue of their disciplined response to the orders the young officer was shouting, they gradually helped calm the mood of defeatism threatening to become unstoppable. Many others joined them as they began moving quickly and cautiously up the narrow steps onto the ramparts. With a feeling of relief at, at last, seeing some sense of order emerging to steady the aimless groups of frightened, dispirited soldiers, Nasir and his group hurriedly joined them.

  “Where do you want us?” Nasir asked quietly, as he reached where Kerim was urgently but calmly directing his men and, at last, getting the ramparts properly manned.

  “Your visit to our town is not well-timed, my friend!” the young Turk greeted him, smiling grimly. “And it seems, of little use,” he added bitterly, gazing down at the fort's courtyard, where many still milled about in a directionless muddle.

  “It is ibn Saud's men, then?” asked Nasir, raising his voice to be heard over the rising sound of gunfire and battle.

  Kerim nodded, his anger clear. “Your warning was ignored, as you see. Still, we must deal with the consequences of our conceit, before we punish those responsible,” he added ominously.

  As the defenders rifle-fire died away, he turned to an NCO, standing near him, a man as thickset and rough looking as Kerim was slim and elegant.

  “We need more ammunition. Take six men and.......,” he stopped as he saw the growing gaps in the defence perimeter, and also the worried looks increasingly visible on his men's faces. “My friend,” he said, turning back to Nasir and gripping his arm. “We need more ammunition and swiftly. Would you and your men go with Sergeant Dursun here and help him?”

  Nasir, hiding his resentment at being apparently demoted to a back-up role, curtly agreed. Sensing this, Kerim whispered quickly, “Nasir, don't be offended. I need men to go with the Sergeant who I know will as quickly return to the walls.” Nasir, having also seen the wavering amongst the men, and knowing how quickly such fear could turn into a wholesale rout, briefly exchanged the grip. He and his men turned and followed the burly NCO who, with his small Turkish detachment, was already hurrying along the battlements in a stooping run.

  The stocky soldier quickly lead them the short distance to where the armoury was situated. He was recognised by the two guards outside and they all quickly entered the large room. Nasir was relieved to see how well stocked it was with rifles and many boxes of ammunition. “We'll not run out of bullets, anyway,” he said grimly to Abdul.

  “Yes. Let us hope the Ottoman stay around long enough to fire them,” replied the older man sourly.

  So it was that obvious, was it? thought Nasir. He'd half-hoped that it was his imagination, overtired and overwrought with the horrors of the last few days, that was making him increasingly pessimistic. Pessimistic not about the ability of the Ottoman to hold Hofuf, but their willingness to.

  Seeing more of the modern rifles he and his men had been using earlier, he hastily picked up a second to add to his own, slinging both over his shoulder and told his men to do the same. Then the men, both Arab and Turk, hurriedly hefted the small, but surprisingly heavy, wooden boxes of ammunition and, carrying them between them, moved as quickly as their load would allow them back up and onto the walls.

  On arriving back on the parapet, Nasir was startled to see the arrogant officer from earlier in the day. He expected to see him looking distinctly uncomfortable away from his well-furnished office. Instead he was startled to see him and Kerim in quiet discussion. The older man turned on seeing Nasir. “Ah, the bringer of unwelcome news,” he said with no trace of mockery.

  “News which you apparently chose to ignore,” retorted Nasir angrily, as he deposited one of the heavy boxes, dangerously near the officer's foot. “Had you paid attention to my brother's message we'd not have had to scuttle away from the town walls like frightened beetles,” he flashed.

  The older man smiled, sadly. “You think so, my young friend? You really think so?”

  “I do!” responded Nasir angrily. “We could have defended the whole town, not merely this fort, where we're bottled up like penned sheep, had you passed on my warning!” he added bitterly.

  “Once perhaps, my fiery young friend, once perhaps,” he murmured, looking infinitely sad. Seeing Nasir's puzzlement at his words, he continued. “Once we could – did – hold far more than this provincial backwater, far more,” he said proudly. “Had we wished to, we could have taken and held all of Arabia. And more, much, much more. But not now, not now.” He shook his head, a simple movement but one that conveyed am immense weariness. “You think I did not pass on your warning? Of course I did, though I knew it would make little or no difference. You, my friend are young, and the whole of Arabia is changing. What the result of all those changes will be, none yet know. All I know is that there is no place for us Ottoman in your new Arabia; nor in many other parts of what was once one of the world's greatest empires. You are young with a young man's spirit, as we Turks once were, but not now, not now. We are still lead by too many old men, old men unable to break out of the old ways. They – and we – are tired and need time to rest before we can begin again; as we will, as we will.” He shook his head and smiled. “Not the best place for a lecture on the decline of empire,” he said. “Come, let us defend
out honour for at least a little while longer,” he smiled and, leaving a confused Nasir behind him, moved off to review the rest of the defences with Kerim.

  Nasir, watching the two soldiers as they walked the walls of the beleaguered citadel, was as confused by the officer's words as much as he was by the new-found vigour in the man, Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to guarding the walls against what sounded like a growing army, and one now free to enter the whole town.

  Hours later, snatching the briefest of rests slumped against the rampart walls, they were all jolted back into full wakefulness on hearing a growing noise outside the fort's walls. Instantly wide awake despite their exhaustion, they rose and peered cautiously over the battlements and down into the town. From the growing tumult they fully expected to see a huge army arriving underneath their walls. But what they saw shocked them even more. It was, quite simply, the ordinary people of the town hurrying out and lining the narrow streets and cheering the attackers as the latter moved quickly through the town and converged on the embattled citadel.

  Merciful Allah! Nasir cursed, as he listened to the growing roar from a clearly jubilant crowd. They want him! They want ibn Saud! If the crowd's roars were genuine, then all their intelligence about the east not wanting the central Arabian warlord was completely false. Or was it just that they hated the Ottoman more? Nasir didn't know. Whichever it was, the result was the same. The town was completely in the hands of the invaders and it would only be a matter of time, minutes perhaps, before they attacked the citadel itself.

  “My friend, things could not be much worse for us!” he shouted over the noise of the crowd, as Kerim appeared beside him.

  “So I thought, Nasir, so I thought; until just a few moments ago,” replied his new friend with a harsh laugh, looking down into the town, as if looking for something; or someone.