Bin Rahhal lifted his head and looked at Hussein. ‘What do you intend to do about Albuquerque?’
‘We must be prepared for him. We don’t know his combat tactics, though we have been told he uses artillery to level cities and kill civilians, and then lands with his forces to finish everyone off. He doesn’t take prisoners, as his ships have no room for them, being already crowded with soldiers. If he takes prisoners, it is to use them to send warning messages after he dismembers them and sends them to the cities he intends to attack – to tell his enemies: “If you don’t surrender, this is what I’m going to do to you.”’
Over the next days, Bin Rahhal and Hussein became preoccupied with training troops, building fortifications, and upgrading and supplying their ships. They relied on Qasimul Haq to provide them with intelligence on the Portuguese movements. The Portuguese now had a trading post in Calicut, and it was from there that news about their activities was leaking.
– 27 –
Bahrain
Jawhar made his way to the palace of Emir Nasser before sunrise, holding a package in his hand protectively. He sat with the servants who were sipping coffee in a yard outside the palace. He detested the bitter black beverage that a Yemeni merchant had brought a while back. Jawhar had heard him tell the emir coffee was a magical drink that banished sleep and reinvigorated the body. But the drink did nothing for Jawhar, save for leaving an unpleasant bitter taste in his mouth.
He poured his cup on the floor and watched the ground quickly absorb it. Jawhar grabbed the package and felt its contents to make sure the dagger was still inside. He had managed to sleep with Farah, but he had not told his master yet, and preferred to wait until he got his reward when he delivered the dagger.
Emir Nasser entered his majlis a short while after sunrise. Jawhar approached him wearing a knowing smile that Nasser recognised well. The two men, who went a long way back, had by now developed their own unwritten and unspoken language. ‘What do you have for me, Jawhar? That smile tells me you’ve done what you were asked!’
Jawhar sat down quickly and set the package before his master in the manner of someone laying down the hunted carcass of a rare animal. ‘I have devoured the small bird. Now all that is left to do is for you to devour the big one, Your Highness!’
Nasser was astonished. He sat up quickly as was his wont whenever a woman was mentioned. ‘What are you saying? Tell me everything, quickly!’
Jawhar smiled, revealing his teeth. ‘As you know, I’ve been courting her maid Farah for months. I told her you wanted a hefty sum in return for my freedom. She gave me any valuables and jewellery she stumbled upon so that I could buy back my freedom.’ He pointed at the package in front of him. ‘This is the surprise I told you about, master!’
He paused for a brief moment before he took the package and opened it slowly, savouring his master’s tense anticipation. Jawhar took out the dagger and brought it to Nasser, who let out a strong exhale before he said, ‘What the devil is this? I’ve never seen anything so beautiful!’ Nasser turned the dagger over, scrutinising each jewel embedded in it and relishing its workmanship. ‘It’s glorious, Jawhar. Did she tell you how much it’s worth? It must be worth a fortune!’
As the emir spoke to his slave, his eyes were transfixed by the bladed artefact. Deciding he had seen enough, he put it in his cummerbund. He was pleased to have it there, complementing his waist.
Jawhar, concerned that his master had decided the dagger’s best use was ornamental, shed his smile. ‘Allow me to explain the importance of this blade, master. This dagger comes from a raja of India, who had it made from jewels belonging to his mother and wife, as a gift to the caliph in Cairo. The raja’s messenger brought it to Sultan Muqrin to deliver it to Egypt, and the sultan left it with Bin Rahhal for safekeeping when he had to put down the rebellion in Najd. I expect the sultan to ask Bin Rahhal for the dagger at any time.’
Jawhar paused and then continued, ‘Bin Rahhal feared more for this dagger than for his own life. Halima hid it in a chest containing his clothes and private effects, and hid the chest in her room. Bin Rahhal did not want the dagger to leave his sight, not even for a second, but Farah knew about it, being Halima’s trusted maid, and was able to steal it and give it to me. She asked me not to tell anyone about it, expecting the dagger to go a long way towards buying back my freedom.’
The emir did not take his eyes off the masterpiece at his waist. ‘You are a demon, Jawhar!’
The slave laughed. He loved it when his master flattered him. Then, in a half-whispering voice, he said, ‘The dagger’s presence in your possession means that you’ve been in Halima’s bedchamber. You can blackmail her with this. People, even her husband, will not believe any story other than that she gave it to you herself. You can use the dagger to get her. You have no better leverage. But you must do it quietly and without a fuss, master. It might take a bit of time before she falls into your trap.’
The emir laughed out loud. His demeanour became brisk and his face reddened with euphoria, as though he had just won a battle. ‘If you weren’t my slave, I would kiss you. I have a great prize for you, Jawhar, if I manage to have Halima.’
Jawhar’s smile disappeared again. ‘Will you not give me anything in return for this dagger, master?’ he asked in disbelief.
‘You will not get anything until I get Halima. Do you understand?’ Nasser stressed every syllable of the sentence; Jawhar took it as a veiled threat and did not persist.
After a moment of silence, Emir Nasser spoke again, in an impatient tone. ‘You must go to Halima now and tell her I want her. Tell her I have the dagger and, if she resists, then I will declare that she is my lover and that she has gifted me the dagger her husband kept in her bedroom. Say this clearly, and make her understand that everyone will know about it if she hesitates.’
Jawhar was shocked, not out of compassion but because he knew that such a scandal would cause nothing short of an earthquake in the city, and that heads would roll as a result. Bin Rahhal was Sultan Muqrin’s trusted vizier, and Halima was the daughter of Khawaja Attar, the famed vizier of the kingdom of Hormuz. In his mind, Jawhar had imagined that the whole affair would be conducted inconspicuously. True, Emir Nasser could blackmail Halima with the dagger now, but Jawhar thought the matter needed the sort of subtlety that this fool was so lacking in.
Dismayed by the prospect of a full-blown scandal that would be the result of his own actions, Jawhar held his head in his hands. He wanted to explain to his master the disaster that awaited them if Halima rejected him, but it was clear that Emir Nasser was determined to go down this road.
‘Listen, Jawhar. I cannot bear to wait any longer. You shall go to Halima and tell her I have the dagger and tell her that I want her. Tell her if she doesn’t submit, then I will tell everyone that she gave me the dagger her husband hid in his private chest in his bedroom as a gift, after she fell in love with me. Everyone will believe me and doubt her; I am the emir. Tell her so.’
Jawhar tried to explain his point of view. ‘Your Highness, you have the dagger now. You can use it as leverage to get to Halima in a different way. You can get close to her, then talk to her about the dagger quietly. She will understand that she is at your mercy without you having to declare it. But to threaten her like this exposes us to a big scandal that could be our undoing!’
The emir’s expression hardened. ‘Curse you, you lowly slave. You will never change no matter what I do for you. Go and do as I command, and never dare second-guess me again!’ Jawhar was about to move when the emir said, ‘Have you heard about how the Portuguese ransacked Hormuz recently? After that crushing defeat, her father is no longer the vizier. He may have even died in the battle. She has no one now. She is all alone and at my mercy. Tell her she will not be able to resist me and that she must submit. Now go. Come on, go.’
Jawhar left reluctantly to Bin Rahhal and Halima’s farmstead to meet with Farah. She alone could convey Emir Nasser’s demands to Halima, and she al
one could convince her to surrender to the prince’s lust.
Jawhar stood coolly in front of Farah. ‘Yes, Farah, he wants her. And if he doesn’t get her, he will slander her. He will tell everyone that he slept with her and that she gave him the dagger as a gift.’
Farah’s eyes rolled and she began to shake. Her face flushed as though she was looking at a terrifying beast. ‘What? What are you saying, Jawhar? How did the dagger end up with Emir Nasser? Didn’t I give it to you to sell in order to buy your freedom?’
She sat on the floor and slapped her head mournfully, as though she had lost a close relative.
Jawhar made up excuses for his actions. ‘I was bargaining with Emir Nasser over the dagger, Farah. I expected him to agree to give me my freedom in return for it.’
Farah did not hear what this fiend was saying. She seemed to be in a catatonic-like state now. Her hands moved in a mechanical way as she slapped herself on the head. She began to sob and begged Jawhar to convince the emir to desist. Still kneeling on the ground, she grabbed him by the hem of his robes. Tears rolled heavily down her cheeks. ‘Bin Rahhal could be dead and then she would be free to marry him. Halima does not deserve all these calamities. She is all alone in a strange country. She knows nothing about her husband. You have to give her time to mourn Bin Rahhal. What you’re doing to her is not fair, do you hear me, you horrid man?’
Jawhar pulled his robes away from Farah’s hands. ‘There’s nothing I can do. You have to convince her to surrender to the emir. There’s no other way. And you’re the only one who can do it.’
He glanced at Farah again. She was still kneeling, tears streaming down to the ground beneath her. ‘Think about it, Farah. What would happen if the emir shows the dagger to people and tells them he slept with Halima, and that she gave him Sultan Muqrin’s dagger as a gift? Who would dare doubt him and who would believe her? Even Sultan Muqrin will accept what Emir Nasser says as true. There’s no other solution, Farah, so let us be done with this as soon as possible.’
Jawhar paused, as though preparing Farah for what he was going to say next. ‘She is not the only woman to succumb to the emir. There are hundreds of them, and everyone knows it. Tell her she isn’t the first and she won’t be the last. Perhaps that will make it easier for her.’
Farah lifted her head and looked at Jawhar with angry tearful eyes, and clenched her jaw. ‘You’re a despicable human being. You used me to get her, you scoundrel. Your master is as despicable as you are. You are nothing but a pair of marauding, ravening wolves interested in nothing more than satisfying their instincts by blackmailing women and desecrating their honour!’
Farah tilted her head backwards and then spat with force in the direction of Jawhar. The slave’s malicious smile returned to his lips. ‘Well, I have delivered the message now, and you must take it to Halima. I will give you a week and not a minute more, Farah. Otherwise, scandal awaits the daughter of the vizier of Hormuz and the wife of Vizier Bin Rahhal.’
Before he left, he delivered a final blow. ‘I forgot to tell you, the Portuguese have raided Hormuz and annihilated everything and everyone there. God alone knows where her father is. She has to understand she is all alone now. Tell her that.’
Then he looked at her askance and left the place. Farah stayed behind, cursing the bad luck that had brought upon her this disastrous situation.
Farah could not see how she would ever be able to take the matter up with Halima. With each passing minute, she felt like flesh was tearing off her body, that years were being shaved off her life. She knew she had to act quickly before Emir Nasser carried out his threat, but her heart made her reluctant: Halima was her best friend, and she did not know how she would approach her with something like this. She did not know if there would ever be a right time to do it: when Halima looked miserable, she did not want to make her feel worse, and when Halima looked happy, she did not want to ruin it for her.
The whole matter now felt like a gangrenous mass under her skin, or like a painful decaying tooth that had to be removed.
*
One day, Farah finally approached her mistress, moving towards her with hesitant steps.
‘Mistress Halima, I need to talk to you about certain things that you should know.’
Halima smiled. She assumed Farah’s problems had to do with the usual servant quarrels, or involved the farmers who looked at her inappropriately whenever she left the home, or perhaps it was about some of the guests who sometimes overstayed their welcome. But then she noticed that Farah’s face was different this time and carried a terrifying expression. This was not the face Halima was used to; Farah’s appearance had changed markedly, and she was plainly afraid of what she was intending to say. Halima started feeling concerned.
Farah’s tears beat her tongue, but she was finally able to speak. ‘In the last few months, Jawhar has spared no occasion to court me. He brought me jewels and gifts until we became close. I don’t know how to describe our relationship, but it was beautiful then. We could talk about everything: our dreams, our future and our ambitions. He told me that when his master set him free, he would marry me, and then we would go and live in Hormuz or India. There, he said, he would trade in spices and I would get my own house with my own servants . . . and we would have children.’
Halima was listening carefully to every word coming out of Farah’s mouth, expecting the worst to follow soon.
‘After several months of showering me with gifts, he came to me one day and told me that Emir Nasser wanted a large sum of money in return for his freedom. It was my turn to give him money. First, he took back all the gifts he had given me, and after that, I started giving him my own money. When I ran out of cash, I started looking everywhere for anything of value to help him.’
Farah looked down to the floor for a few seconds, before she gazed back up at Halima. ‘I gave him the dagger in a moment of weakness, the dagger that was in the chest. I gave him Master Bin Rahhal’s dagger!’
Blood rushed to Halima’s face. She felt the first of many things she did not understand were starting to be revealed. ‘Go on, Farah!’
‘Stealing Sultan Muqrin’s dagger was the biggest mistake of my life. Jawhar has taken it to Emir Nasser.’
‘What? Why the dagger, Farah? You could have taken anything else! It belongs to Sultan Muqrin who gave it to Bin Rahhal for safekeeping and you know it!’
Farah started crying bitterly. ‘I wanted to have a different life. I’m sick and tired of being a maid. I wanted to be the mistress of my own household, with my own palace and servants. Jawhar told me the dagger alone was enough to buy his freedom. I also thought everyone had forgotten about the dagger by now.’
Farah stood up and threw herself at her mistress’s feet. ‘I beg you, forgive me. I have made a terrible mistake. I have placed you at the emir’s mercy!’
‘Why is that?’
‘Because if you don’t submit to him and his desires, he’s going to say you gave him the dagger after you fell for him and pursued him during Bin Rahhal’s absence!’
The whole world suddenly stopped for Halima. The air, her breathing, the conversation, the tears; everything stood still. Halima’s eyes froze and she stared into the emptiness. Her face wore an arrested expression, and nothing moved except her twitching eyes and lips. She then overcame her trance-like state and stood up, taking a few steps before her legs failed her, forcing her to sit back down, this time sobbing.
Farah stood up to help her. Suddenly, Halima’s face transformed into an angry expression. ‘What are you saying, you wicked woman?’
Halima pulled her maid by the hair violently, removing locks of it with her bare hands. She then slapped her face several times until Farah started bleeding from her nose and mouth. ‘Get out of my sight, you harlot. How could you do this to me? Get out of my house! I don’t want to see your face any more!’
Farah was still on the floor, begging. ‘Please forgive me, Mistress Halima. I have betrayed you, I know, but please forg
ive my error!’
Halima did not hear her. Every word of Farah’s fuelled her anger. Halima said hysterically, ‘Get out of my face, you traitor. I don’t want to see you ever again!’ Then she broke down in a fit of uncontrollable weeping.
Days passed in which no stove was lit, no food was ordered, and no laughter or conversation was heard in Halima’s house. The sad, dark days and nights passed emptily. Everyone else was gone, and nothing was left except the memory of the people who once lived there. Few sounds were heard in the house of mourning, save for crying and sobbing. It was as if a great calamity had visited the place and refused to leave.
One day, Farah mustered enough bravery to enter Halima’s room. She approached her bed, where her mistress was sleeping quietly, and kissed her forehead.
Halima felt it and screamed, ‘Get out of my face, harlot. I don’t want to see you!’
‘My lady, we are in a difficult position. I want to atone for my sin!’
‘And how would you do that? He’s asking me to sell my honour in return for the dagger. Is that what you want me to do? Tell me!’
Farah spoke very quietly, trying to calm Halima down so she could hear what she had to say. ‘My lady, I will pay a hefty price to fix my mistake. Let me explain and then you can say whatever you want.’
Halima turned on her side, revealing her tear-battered face. Dark circles surrounded her eyes. This was not the Halima that Farah had known all these years.
Farah sat on the ground in shame and disgrace. She tried to explain her plan without looking at her mistress. Her tears, the tone of her voice, and the signs of slapping on her face were enough to make the conversation extremely serious.
‘I will summon him to the house, my lady.’
‘Are you insane?’
‘I’m asking your permission to invite him here. Then I will take it from there. All I want you to do is agree to my plan and then leave the house. Do not return until the following morning.’
Halima was appalled by Farah’s words. She sat up abruptly. ‘I still feel betrayed by your actions, Farah. But I can never accept for you to give him your honour—’
The Holy Sail Page 24