The Holy Sail

by Abdulaziz Al-Mahmoud

  The delegation crossed several halls and corridors, until they reached a large gate guarded by soldiers wearing superb uniforms. The soldiers carried urumis, strange weapons that Hussein had never seen before; out of the weapons’ handles, several whip-like curling blades protruded. The soldiers also had bagh naksa, weapons resembling predators’ claws that they wore on their knuckles, and used to slash through the bodies or heads of enemy soldiers.

  The gate opened quickly, revealing behind it a great marble hall. In the centre, Malik Ayaz sat surrounded by his viziers, commanders and officers. It was a spectacle of wealth and power.

  Hussein could not hide his surprise when he saw Malik Ayaz. The man had white skin and a ruddy complexion, golden blond hair that reached his shoulders and eyes as blue as the sea.

  Malik Ayaz stood up when he saw Hussein, hugged him and kissed him. No one had greeted Hussein in this manner since he had arrived in India; Indians did not kiss one another. Malik Ayaz’s movements were commanding, even those expressing his respect and amiability. He was definitely not Indian, Hussein thought to himself.

  Hussein sat down with Malik Ayaz for a long conversation. The two men discussed all matters of common concern, from the Ottomans, the Safavids and the Mamluks, to the Portuguese and the spice trade, and exchanged the information they had.

  Later on, Hussein left for his wing in the palace. Wanting to know more, he grabbed Si al-Tayeb’s hand and quizzed him about Malik Ayaz. He wanted to know how he was king over the Indians when he was so different in appearance and comportment from them.

  ‘I don’t know much about him, but Qasimul Haq told me he was a Russian slave captured in battle,’ Si al-Tayeb said. ‘He was sold and resold many times until he fell into the ownership of one of the powerful kings of India. As he showed strong loyalty to his master and courage on the battlefield, his master made him commander of the army. After the king died, Malik Ayaz seized power and banished all his rivals, ruling the city independently.’

  Hussein shook his head in surprise. He had not expected to find slave soldiers in India as well. He thought the phenomenon was purely Egyptian.

  In the evening, Hussein returned to Malik Ayaz’s hall. The ruler of Diu welcomed him warmly and introduced him to Muzaffar Shah, ruler of Gujarat, saying, ‘Muzaffar Shah is an old friend and a new ally. We agreed to fight the Portuguese ever since they appeared near the coasts of India.’

  Hussein enjoyed himself that night. He felt his cause was in good hands. Malik Ayaz and Muzaffar Shah had significant military capabilities. Hussein was reassured that his mission was not in as much danger as he had thought, and reckoned their combined forces would be able to defeat the Portuguese if they used the resources at their disposal well.

  Later that night, as they sat in the hall after dinner, a guard entered and whispered something in Malik Ayaz’s ear. The governor nodded and spoke with the guard for a few minutes before telling his guests, ‘A messenger from the Zamorin has come. He wants to talk to me in private, but I have asked him to enter so you can hear what he has to say.’

  Hussein’s thoughts raced. He had been at the Zamorin’s court a few days earlier, and the Hindu king had not agreed to help the Mamluk fleet, and even asked him to leave as soon as possible. What had changed? Did the Zamorin want to convince Malik Ayaz to expel him like he had?

  The messenger, who was dressed in the manner of Banyan merchants, entered the hall. Hussein was perplexed. Messengers did not usually dress like this. He must have come disguised then, Hussein thought to himself; but for what purpose?

  The messenger came to Malik Ayaz, looking at Hussein and Muzaffar Shah in a way that suggested he did not expect them to be there. Malik Ayaz said, ‘They are my allies, messenger. Your secret will be safe with them. You may speak freely.’

  After a short moment of hesitation, the messenger spoke. ‘Your Grace, you are aware that my master the Zamorin loathes the Portuguese. But he is in a difficult position. His kingdom relies on trade and he cannot close his borders to anyone. If he decides to fight them, he would be alone amid the Indian kingdoms allied to Portugal. He knows that the future of his kingdom depends on free trade. And he is aware that, though the Portuguese have not yet used violence, they will use it in the future. They are invaders, and invaders know only how to act like invaders!’

  The messenger continued, ‘My master will take part in the battle with you but he will keep his distance. The Portuguese will not know of it. He will send you men, money and supplies, but his only request is that you should keep this secret. He will deny having any links with you if something goes wrong.’

  The men exchanged surprised looks before Malik Ayaz replied. ‘We thank the Zamorin for his wisdom and his support. We will be grateful. I hope you will convey our best regards and wishes to your king.’

  The messenger knelt, his palms joined together, and then stood and left. Before he exited from the hall, he stopped and turned to those seated. ‘Qasimul Haq asked me to tell you that the Portuguese viceroy in India has learned of Hussein Pasha’s arrival in Diu. He asked his son Lourenço de Almeida to lead the Portuguese fleet to meet Hussein in battle. I believe the Portuguese are on their way. It is advisable for you to begin preparations.’

  ‘When do you think their fleet will be here?’ Malik Ayaz asked.

  ‘You will see their ships over the horizon within three days, I would reckon.’

  It suddenly dawned on Hussein why Qasimul Haq had advised him to come to Diu. The city had declared war on the Portuguese, unlike other cities which were still reluctant or had even forged alliances with Portugal. His presence in Diu, he thought, would give him the moral and material support he needed in his war with the invaders. Qasimul Haq back at the Zamorin’s court served as his early warning against any imminent Portuguese military action.

  The leaders present at the court agreed to choose Hussein Pasha as the commander of the fleet that would confront the incoming Portuguese force. Hussein was asked to develop a battle plan.

  Before the Portuguese were set to arrive, Hussein sent most of his fleet out to sea to conceal it. He kept two galleys flying the Mamluk flag at the entrance of the port, in addition to other Indian ships he asked to fly the Mamluk flag and remain near his two ships. He ordered the garrison manning the towers to place piles of firewood on their tops and to wait for his signal.

  Three days later, exactly as the messenger had predicted, the Portuguese reached Diu. As their flotilla approached the port, they opened fire at the ships anchored at its entrance, believing them to be the entire Mamluk fleet. Hit by Portuguese cannonballs, the ships caught fire and some even exploded, sending shrapnel and debris in all directions. As soon as the Portuguese came closer and moved into the bay of Diu, however, Hussein gave orders to set the firewood on top of the towers alight. The Mamluk ships he had sent out to sea spotted the beacons, and sailed stealthily towards the port, laying siege to the Portuguese fleet and blocking its path outside the bay.

  Lourenço knew that he was trapped. He ordered two of his ships to break the siege by any means. The two ships scurried towards the Mamluk fleet, but the Mamluk sailors resisted fiercely. They were able to board the Portuguese ships, and melee combat ensued at close quarters, with swords and daggers. At the same time, the small Indian ships that were hiding behind the Mamluk galleys joined the battle. When Lourenço saw this, he decided to raid the port and try to take it at any cost, having now lost all hope of getting out.

  Hussein’s ship followed Lourenço’s caravel and forced it into shallow waters. The Portuguese commander’s ship ran aground and keeled sharply on its side, losing its ability to move. Mamluk and Indian ships surrounded it and opened cannon fire. A shell hit Lourenço’s leg, and as he was screaming in agony, another shell hit him and tore him to pieces. The Mamluks and their Indian comrades boarded the Portuguese ships and put their sailors to the sword. Only nineteen men survived. They threw themselves into the sea before the other ships rescued them.

&nb
sp; After the Muslims learned of Lourenço’s demise, they allowed the remainder of the Portuguese ships to leave the port safely. As the battle ended, the Muslims thought this would be the end of the Portuguese presence in the sea. All regions of India that supported the resistance celebrated. News of this resounding victory spread across all ports, and Hussein Pasha was seen as their saviour. People raised Mamluk flags throughout the land to honour the heroes who had managed to deal with the threat.

  The Portuguese despaired of their defeat. They barricaded themselves in their feitorias, waiting for a miracle. They had been routed far from home, and now had only a few ships left. They started seriously considering the prospect of leaving, if orders from Portugal came for them to retreat.

  – 24 –

  Bahrain

  Jawhar stood outside the farmstead where Bin Rahhal and Halima lived. He spoke to the guard and then put something in his hand, and the guard let him in. He walked through the dimness of the night towards the house, which sat in a quiet corner of the estate. Only a torch in front of the main door of the house provided light in its immediate surrounding, but beyond that everything was cloaked in pitch-black darkness. All Jawhar could hear were the frogs croaking and crickets singing. He was not used to the noises, and felt there was a deliberate attempt to unsettle him that night. He came close to the house and headed to the left side, walking along the fence for a few steps before stopping.

  A silhouette appeared from behind the house and moved in his direction. He heard a small whistle that caught his attention, and looked around to make sure no one was following. He then walked in the direction of the whistle; Farah was there, waiting for him.

  ‘Did you bring anything with you?’ Jawhar asked in a hissing voice.

  ‘Yes.’ She lifted a small pouch and waved it in his face. ‘This is the most precious thing I could find.’

  ‘Is it the dagger you told me about?’

  Farah nodded. ‘It’s the most valuable item in the whole house. But you must go now.’

  The maid saw Jawhar’s teeth flicker in the darkness. He was grinning. ‘I’m not going anywhere. I’m coming with you to your room.’

  ‘Are you crazy?’ Farah gasped.

  ‘Listen to me, Farah. You have given me everything of value that you could find. I will soon be free and we will marry. Why can’t I come to your room? I cannot bear being apart from you any more.’

  ‘You’re insane! Nothing is going to happen until you’re free and we’re married!’

  He grabbed her hand and pushed her roughly back through the door she had emerged from. She could not scream as he closed the door behind them.

  The insects outside did not stop singing. Moths and all kinds of flying insects continued to dance around the torch, making a whispering-like noise, oblivious to the scorched bug carcasses scattered underneath.

  On the following morning, as Emir Nasser entered his palace, he was surprised to see how few merchants were there. Usually, many more would be present in his majlis. Spotting Jawhar, he asked him, ‘Where are all the guests? Why did they stop coming?’

  Jawhar called out to an Indian merchant sitting not far from them, and asked him to explain the small number of Indians at the emir’s court.

  The Banyan came and bowed slightly. ‘Things have changed, Your Highness. The sea routes have become too dangerous. The Portuguese have shown their fangs. Before we leave India, we must now go to their trading posts to get the cartaz, the permits, and pay duties on the goods we want to bring with us. Having these trade licences protected us from Portuguese ships, which intercept us from time to time. Recently, they started demanding bribes even after we show them the passes and proof of tax payments. It’s just better not to trade because the taxes and bribes we pay to Portugal are more than any profit we can earn. Things are different now, Your Highness. The trade route between us is no longer passable.’

  ‘Why does India not fight them and get rid of them?’

  ‘There are great rivalries among Indian kings. They all want to woo the Portuguese, believing they are strong and that they would protect their trade. But this has not happened. In the end, only a few of our kings dared stand up to Portugal, and refused to have Portuguese trading posts in their territories. One such king is Malik Ayaz, who is now at war with the Portuguese.’

  After a brief pause, the Banyan continued. ‘A fearsome Egyptian fleet led by Hussein Pasha has arrived in India. I heard that the fleet dropped anchor in Diu before I came here. God knows what happened after that. Things are getting worse with every passing day. The Portuguese traders are mutating into warriors, and the disputes between our kings are sharper than ever before.’

  The emir made nervous gestures with his finger. The few guests there understood he wanted them to leave. The majlis now empty, Nasser instructed Jawhar to send an urgent message to Sultan Muqrin, asking permission to send a fleet to fight the Portuguese, who had disrupted trade with India. Emir Nasser cautioned that if the situation were to remain unaddressed, then the entire trade of the Jabrid sultanate would be in danger.

  Jawhar did not understand the purpose of this message; Emir Nasser was not the kind of man to be concerned by such matters. Jawhar stopped writing, looking at his master and trying to fathom his intentions.

  ‘Don’t stop, Jawhar. This crisis is our only chance to send the shepherd away from the herd!’

  The emir let out a jarringly loud laugh. After he calmed down, he resumed dictating to Jawhar. ‘As you know, Great Sultan, I suffer chronic pain in my back that prevents me from travelling and riding my horse. I shall therefore send Bin Rahhal to lead the fleet in my stead. He is the best man for the job.’

  After Jawhar finished writing the sentence, he looked mischievously at his master. He finally understood Emir Nasser’s motives, and shook his head in surprise at his cunningness.

  The emir saw Jawhar looking at him and returned his wicked smile. ‘Did you expect me to leave for India when I am so close to ensnaring her? Come then, seal the letter and send it to the sultan at once!’

  Twenty days later, a message came from Sultan Muqrin to Emir Nasser, agreeing to his proposal to send Bin Rahhal to join the Mamluk fleet fighting the Portuguese. The sultan instructed his cousin to give Bin Rahhal all the money, men and military supplies he had access to without delay.

  One day, Bin Rahhal sat playing chess with Emir Nasser. The emir’s pawns fell one after the other to those of Bin Rahhal, who seemed immersed in the game, deeply thinking and calculating every move, unlike the emir, who seemed preoccupied with something else.

  The emir stroked his moustache. ‘You have already won, Bin Rahhal. I’m not in check yet, but you have taken most of my pawns. Anyway, listen, I’ve got news for you.’

  Nasser reached for a parchment by his side and gave Bin Rahhal the sultan’s letter. Bin Rahhal read it and immediately concluded that it was Emir Nasser who had suggested that he lead the campaign to India. No one else could have gone to the sultan with a matter like that.

  When Bin Rahhal read Sultan Muqrin’s orders to Halima, she could no longer stand. She burst into uncontrollable sobbing, her tears soaking Bin Rahhal’s shoulder. Bin Rahhal did not tell her that it was Emir Nasser who had nominated him to go to India, and kept it for himself for the time being.

  ‘Halima, I want you to go back to your father’s house in Hormuz as soon as I set off. Don’t stay here for too long after I leave. I won’t feel comfortable with you here by yourself.’

  Halima replied with a quavering voice. ‘But I’m happy here. I can wait for your return—’

  ‘No, you will not stay here! You will leave straight after me, understood?’ he interrupted her.

  ‘All right, all right, don’t be angry. I promise, I will leave straight after you do. But I don’t understand the reason for this insistence and urgency.’

  ‘I will explain everything to you later. But now, you must prepare yourself to leave.’

  Her dream of having a quiet, happy li
fe with the husband she loved was shattered. As the days went by, she came to terms with the idea that she would soon be separated from him. She gave Farah money to distribute to the poor, instructing her to ask them to pray for her husband’s safe return. But Farah gave the money to Jawhar, in the hope of collecting enough money to elope with him.

  On the day Bin Rahhal was set to depart for India, the port filled with crowds of people, including women, children and the elderly, for their warriors’ send-off. Bin Rahhal’s ships did not have cannons like the Portuguese ships. They were smaller and were rigged with only two sails. Sultan Muqrin sent with him 200 Ottoman musketeers seconded to him by the sharif of Mecca to help him in his war effort.

  Halima and Farah put on their veils and went to bid Bin Rahhal farewell, even if only from a distance. Halima could not bear staying at home and not seeing her beloved husband as he departed. The two women blended in with the others, trying to remain anonymous; Bin Rahhal never would have consented to their presence at the port.

  Bin Rahhal was busy ensuring the fleet was well stocked with food, water and armaments. The port was teeming with people who came for various purposes, well-wishers and tearful folk saddened by the departure of their loved ones. Bin Rahhal appeared from time to time amid the crowds. Halima’s eyes tirelessly scoured the sea of faces around her looking for him; whenever he emerged she smiled and wiped the tears from her eyes to see him better, and when he disappeared again she let loose the tears she was withholding. Farah was by her side and went through the same emotions as her mistress, helping her find Bin Rahhal each time he vanished.