by Wilbur Smith
"Zayn al-Din!" they shouted.
"Death and damnation to the tyrant!"
Tower and glory to al-Salil."
"God has given us the victory. God is great."
"No." Dorian jumped to the top of the emplacement wall where they could all see him. "The victory is not ours yet. Like a wounded jackal into his hole, Zayn al-Din has taken refuge in the fort."
They saw the enemy seamen who had escaped from the other ships creep out of the forest, then hurry more boldly after Zayn al-Din. They streamed into the deserted fort after him.
"We must smoke him out," Dorian told them, and jumped down from the wall. He called his gun captains to him and gave them swift orders. "No more need for heated shot. Use only cold balls, but keep up a lively fire on the walls of the fort. Give them no rest. I am going down to round up all our men and lay siege to the fort. They have no food or water. We left no powder in the magazine, and the guns on the parapets have been spiked. Zayn cannot hold out for more than a day or two."
A groom had already saddled his horse and Dorian rode down with every man who could be spared from the guns trooping after him. The men who had put up the token defence of the fort were waiting at the bottom of the hill to swell his ranks. He sent them to surround the building and make certain that none of the enemy could escape.
He saw Muntu coming through the forest from the direction of the entrance channel, and rode to meet him. "Where is Smallboy?"
"He has taken ten men and gone with Klebe to follow the wagons."
"Have you opened the boom, so that our ships can re-enter the bay?"
"Yes, master. The channel is clear." Dorian lifted his telescope and checked the entrance. He saw that Muntu had severed the cable and the current had pushed the boom aside.
"Well done, Muntu. Now take your oxen." He pointed down the shore to where Zayn's dhow lay stranded. "Get the cannon out of that ship,
and drag them round to cover the fort. We will pound the enemy from all sides. Knock a breach through the walls, so that when Jim arrives with Beshwayo's imp is they can storm in and finish the business."
By late afternoon the captured cannons from the stranded dhow had been towed by the oxen into position and the first shots knocked clods of earth and shattered timbers from the walls of the fort. They kept up the bombardment all night, giving the besieged enemy no rest.
In the dawn the Sprite sailed into the bay through the channel. She was followed by the Arcturus and the Revenge, shepherding all the captured Omani dhows and transports ahead of them. The warships anchored, and immediately turned all their guns on the fort. The three long nine pounders on the heights of the bluff and the captured carronades from Zayn's own ships were already hammering away. Between them they directed a withering fire on the fort.
No sooner had the Revenge dropped her anchor than Mansur came ashore. Dorian was waiting to greet him on the beach, and ran forward when he saw his son's head swathed in the bandage. He embraced him and asked anxiously, "You are hurt. How badly?"
"A scratch on my eyeball." Mansur shrugged it off. "It is almost healed. But Kadem, who inflicted the injury, is dead."
"How did he die?" Dorian demanded, holding him at arm's length and staring into his face.
"By the knife. The same way that he murdered my mother."
"You killed him?"
"Yes, Father. I killed him, and he did not die an easy death. My mother is avenged."
"No, my son. There is still another. Zayn al-Din is holding out within the fort."
"Can we be certain he is in there? Have you seen him with your own eyes?" They both stared along the shore at the battered palisades of the building. They could make out the heads of a few doughty defenders behind the parapets. However, Zayn had no artillery and most of his'j men were crouching behind the walls. The thudding of their muskets | was a feeble response to the thunder of the cannon.
"Yes, Mansur. I have seen him. I will not leave this place until he also has paid the price in full, and gone to join his minion Kadem ibnt Abubaker in hell."
They both became aware of a new sound, faint at first but growing! louder with every minute. Half a mile down the shores of the bay a! dense column of men trotted out of the forest. They ran in a precis el military formation. Like the foam on the crest of a dark wave, their"! feather headdresses danced in rhythm to their step. The early sunlight|
sparkled on their assegais, and on their oiled torsos. They were singing, a deep warlike chant that thrilled the blood and rumbled across the top of the forest. A lone horseman rode at the head of the leading column. He was mounted on a dark stallion whose long mane and tail streamed back in the wind of his canter.
"Jim on Drumfire." Mansur laughed. Thank God he's safe." A dimuv uti ve figure ran beside one of Jim's stirrups, and beside the other a giant of a man.
"Bakkat and Beshwayo," said Dorian. Mansur ran to meet Jim, who swung down from the saddle and took him in a bear-hug.
"What is this rag you wear, coz? Is it some new fashion you have struck upon? It suits you not at all, you should take my word on it." Then he turned to Dorian with his arm still around Mansur's shoulder.
"Uncle Dorry, where is my father?" His expression changed to dread. "He is not hurt or killed? Tell me, I beg of you."
"Nay, Jim lad. Breathe easy. Our Tom is impervious to shot and steel. As soon as his work here was done, he went to take care of the women and little Georgie."
Dorian knew that if he told them the full truth about Guy's intervention, he would not be able to fulfill his promise to Tom and keep the boys with him. They would rush off immediately to defend their womenfolk. Quickly he glossed over his deception. "But what of your side of the battle?"
"It is over, Uncle Dorry. Herminius Koots, who commanded the enemy, is dead. I saw to that myself. Beshwayo's men have cleared the forests of the rest of them. The pursuit took all of yesterday and most of the night. They chased some of the Turks a league up the beach and over the hills before they caught up with them."
"Where are the prisoners?" Dorian demanded.
"Beshwayo does not understand the meaning of that word, and I was unable to educate him." Jim laughed. But Dorian did not laugh with him: he could imagine the slaughter that had taken place in the forest, and his conscience troubled him. Those Omani who had perished under the assegais were his own subjects. He could not rejoice in their deaths. His anger towards Zayn al-Din flared even higher. Here was more blood for which he must pay.
Jim did not notice his uncle's expression. He was still buoyed up by the wild excitement of battle and intoxicated with the taste of victory. Look at him now." He pointed to where Beshwayo was already parading his imp is before the walls of the fort.
The guns had knocked a wide breach through them and Beshwayo strode down the ranks, stabbing his assegai towards the breach and
haranguing his warriors: "My children, some of you have not yet earned the right of marriage. Did I not give you opportunity enough? Were you slow? Were you unlucky?" He paused and glared at them. "Or were you afraid? Did you piss down your own legs when you saw the feast I laid for you?"
His imp is shouted an angry denial. "We are thirsty still. We hunger still."
"Give us to eat and drink again, Great Black Bull."
"We are your faithful hunting dogs. Let us slip, great king. Let us run!" they pleaded.
' i "A before Beshwayo can send in an impi through the breach," Jim said
I""to Dorian, 'you must order the batteries to cease firing so as not 1 J to endanger his men."
Dorian sent his runners out to the gun captains with the order. One after the other the batteries ceased firing. It took the message longer to reach the three guns on the heights of the bluff, but at last a tense, heavy silence fell over the bay. The only movement was the waving of the feather headdresses of the Beshwayo. The Arab defenders on the parapets looked down on this array, poised so menacingly before their walls, and their desultory! musket-fire dried up. They stared bleak
ly upon implacable death.
Then, abruptly, a ram's-horn trumpet blared out from the walls of the| fort. The ranks of black warriors stirred restlessly. Dorian turned hisj telescope to see a flag waved from the parapets.
"Surrender?" Jim smiled. "Beshwayo does not understand that word either. A white flag will not save one of the men inside those walls."
"Not a surrender." Dorian shut his telescope. "I know the man waving that flag. His name is Rahmad. He is one of the Omani admirals, a gc sailor and a brave man. He was not able to choose the master he serve He will not cravenly surrender. He wants to parley."
Jim shook his head impatiently. "I cannot keep Beshwayo in checf much longer. What is there to speak about?"
"I intend to find out," Dorian said.
"By God, Uncle! You cannot trust Zayn al-Din. This might be a trap
"Jim is right, Father," cried Mansur. "Don't give yourself into Zaynjj power."
"I must speak to Rahmad, if there is some small chance that I caner the bloodshed now and save the lives of those wretches trapped wit hts the walls."
Then I must go with you," said Jim.
"I also." Mansur stepped up beside him.
Dorian's expression softened and he placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "Stay here, both of you. I will need someone to avenge me, if things go awry." He dropped his hands and loosened his sword-belt. He handed the weapon to Mansur. "Keep this for me." Then he looked at Jim: "Can you hold your friend Beshwayo and his hunting hounds on a leash for just a little longer?"
"Be quick, Uncle. Beshwayo is not famous for his forbearance. I know not how long I can hold him." Jim went with Dorian to where Beshwayo stood at the front of his imp is and spoke to him earnestly. At last Beshwayo grunted reluctantly, and Jim told Dorian, "Beshwayo agrees to wait until you return."
Dorian strode through the ranks of the Beshwayo imp is. They opened before him, for those warriors recognized the quality of nobility in him. Dorian's step was measured and stately as he strode towards the walls and stopped within easy pistol shot. He looked up at the figure on the parapet.
"Speak, Rahmad!" he ordered.
"You remember me ?" Rahmad sounded amazed.
"I know you well. I would not have trusted you otherwise. You are a man of honour."
"Majesty!" Rahmad bowed deeply. "Mighty Caliph."
"If you address me thus, why do you fight against me?"
Rahmad seemed for a moment overcome with shame. Then he raised his head. "I speak not only for myself but for every man within these walls."
Dorian raised his hand to stop him. "This is strange, Rahmad. You speak for the men? You do not speak for Zayn al-Din? Explain this to me."
"Mighty al-Salil, Zayn al-Din is..." Rahmad seemed to search for the right words. "We have requested Zayn al-Din to demonstrate to us and all the world that he, not you, is indeed the Caliph of Oman."
"In what way can he prove this?"
"In the traditional manner, when two men have an equal claim to the throne. In the sight of God, and before all this array, man to man in single combat, we have requested Zayn al-Din to fight to the death to prove that claim."
You propose a duel between us?"
We have taken an oath of allegiance to Zayn al-Din. We cannot surrender his person to you. We are bound to defend him with our own lives. However, if he were defeated in a traditional duel, we would
be released from our vow. Gladly then we would become your liege men."
Dorian understood their dilemma. They were holding Zayn al-Din prisoner, but they were unable to execute him or hand him over. He must kill Zayn himself in single combat. The alternative would be for him to allow the Beshwayo to slaughter Rahmad and all the Omani.
"Why should I place myself in such peril? You and Zayn al-Din are in my power." Dorian pointed at the black ranks of Beshwayo. "Why should I not send them in to massacre you all here and now?"
"A lesser man might do that. I know you will not, for you are the son of Sultan Abd Muhammad al-Malik. You will not desecrate our honour, or your own."
"What you say is true, Rahmad. It is my destiny to unite the kingdom of Oman, not split it asunder. I must take up that destiny with honour. I will fight Zayn al-Din for the caliphate."
With white ash the Omani elders and headmen marked out the duelling ring on the hard-baked ground below the walls of the fort. This was a circle twenty paces in diameter.
All the Arabs who had fought with Zayn al-Din and been trapped within the fort now lined the parapets. Dorian's forces, including the crews from the captured dhows who had declared their loyalty to him, were drawn up on the bayside of the ring, facing the opposing forces on the walls of the fort.
Jim had explained the rules and the object of the duel to Beshwayo, and he was enthralled. He no longer resented being deprived of the right to storm the fort and wipe out the defenders. For him this gladiatorial contest was even greater sport.
"This is a fine way to solve a dispute, Somoya. It is truly a warrior's thing. I shall make it my own custom in the future."
The entire Beshwayo army squatted in ranks behind Dorian's legions. The high parapet and the slope of the ground afforded every man present an unobstructed view of the ring.
Dorian, flanked by Jim and Mansur, stood at the forefront of this array, facing the closed gates of the fort. He wore only a simple white robe and his feet were bare. In accordance with the rules of the contest he was unarmed.
There was another blast on the ram's horn and the gates of the fort swung open. Four men marched out and came down the hill. They were in half-armour, bronze helmets and chain-mail over shirts with greaves
protecting their lower legs. They were big men with cold eyes and brutal faces, the executioners of the Omani court. Torture and death were their vocation. They took up their positions at the four points of the circle, and leaned on the hilts of their drawn swords.
There was a pause and then another trumpet blast. A second procession came down the slope. It was led by Mullah Khaliq. Behind him came Rahmad and four other tribal headmen. Then, with an escort of five armed men, the tall figure of Zayn al-Din limped after them. They stopped on the far side of the ring, facing Dorian.
Rahmad advanced into the centre of the ring. "In the Name of the One God and his True Prophet we are met here this day to decide the fate of our nation. Al-Salil!" He bowed towards Dorian. "And Zayn al Din." He turned and bowed again. "This day one of you will die and the other will ascend the Elephant Throne of Oman."
He held out his hands and the two headmen who flanked him passed Rahmad a pair of scimitars. Rahmad stabbed the point of one of these weapons into the earth just inside the ash line of the ring, and left it standing upright. Then he crossed the circle and placed the other weapon exactly opposite it.
"Only one of you will be permitted to leave this ring alive. The four referees," he pointed to the waiting executioners, 'have been strictly charged with the duty of killing immediately whichever of you is driven or thrown outside this line of ashes." He touched the line with the toe of his sandal. "Now Mullah Khaliq will lead the prayers begging for the guidance of God in these affairs."
The holy man's voice droned in the silence as he commended the combatants to God and their fate. Dorian and Zayn stared across the ting at each other. Their faces were expressionless but their eyes burned with hatred and anger. The mullah ended his prayer: "In God's Name let it begin!"