The Holy Sail

by Abdulaziz Al-Mahmoud

  When Attar mentioned the sultan, he looked at Hussein to gauge what effect it had on him, then he decided to press the matter anyway, whether Hussein accepted it or not, given how serious it was. ‘They want Sultan al-Ghawri to join an alliance that comprises Shah Ismail and a number of European kingdoms to strike the Ottomans and end their state. The shah sent an emissary to Sultan al-Ghawri with this offer a few weeks ago.’

  Bin Rahhal looked at Hussein, expecting him to respond. They all realised how grave the matter at hand was and knew they needed to act.

  For Bin Rahhal, a Persian invasion of Bahrain would end the Jabrid state, and the sharifate in Hejaz if Shah Ismail decided to invade it too.

  For his part, Hussein’s view was that Sultan al-Ghawri could be lured to join an alliance that would not be in his favour. The Portuguese and Safavids would be collaborating with one another and using the sultan only until they achieved their goals, after which they would discard him. Ghawri would emerge a loser whether the alliance prevailed or failed.

  After the three men discussed all issues they needed to talk about, Bin Rahhal found there was an opportunity to ask about his wife. ‘When did you get the last letter from Halima?’ he asked Attar.

  ‘A few months ago. She was bemoaning your absence, but other than that she said everything was all right. But to be honest with you, Bin Rahhal, I know my daughter. She doesn’t like to upset me in any way, and even if she were suffering, she would still say everything was fine. I don’t know why, but I wasn’t reassured by what she said. My heart tells me she is not well.’

  A few days later, on a pitch-black night, Hussein and Bin Rahhal boarded a ship far from the main port. Lights were deliberately put out on the boat. They bade farewell to Attar and set sail for Bahrain.

  – 30 –

  Bahrain

  The farmstead where Halima lived was quiet as usual. No one entered or left except a small number of workers or servants. Sometimes, a vendor would knock on the door, selling wares that he carried in a large bundle on his back. In the evening, the gates of the farm were closed and a torch was lit at the home’s entrance. Hardly any sound was heard in the night other than the croaking frogs and singing insects.

  In the same dark corner where they usually met, Jawhar was waiting for Farah. She had asked him to come urgently, telling him there was something important to inform him of.

  ‘Halima has agreed to receive Emir Nasser at home,’ Farah said without introduction when the two met up.

  Jawhar was overjoyed by the news. ‘Are you sure? I hope Halima will not upset my master. He has been waiting for this moment for a long time.’ Jawhar’s voice grew more ecstatic. ‘Do you know what this means Farah? I will be free! When I gave the emir the dagger, he was thrilled, but it wasn’t enough. He said he would only give me my freedom after he spends the night with Halima. I can almost smell my freedom. We will leave this place soon, you and I, and go to India. There I will become a merchant, and you shall have your own house and servants. We will have children together.’

  Farah was melancholic, and was not pleased to hear Jawhar’s promises this time. It was too dark for Jawhar to notice the bruising on her face – and he was too caught up in himself to notice the bruising of her soul.

  The emir’s slave continued to speak, but Farah was not listening. Her mind was somewhere else, until he tried to kiss her. She pushed him away violently. She was furious with him from the last time they met. ‘What are you trying to do, you loathsome man? You raped me once, but I won’t let you do it again. Go and tell your master Halima will be ready for him tomorrow night. He must bring the dagger with him, do you hear? Otherwise, nothing will happen!’

  Farah pulled Jawhar by his clothes to get his attention. ‘Hear me well, Jawhar. My mistress is a dignified woman. She has never done anything like this before. Your master must come alone and in disguise an hour after sunset when it’s already dark. We don’t want anyone to see him and she doesn’t want anyone to see her either. Then he must leave before the dawn prayer. Did you get all this? Tell your master!’

  Content with the plan, Jawhar replied, ‘I will tell him Farah. Don’t worry.’ Leaving, he cried out, ‘Tomorrow I will be free!’

  On the following morning, Farah had a good idea about what she was going to do. There was only one thing left to organise.

  Farah went to Halima. ‘You must sleep tonight on the roof of the house. Do not return until sunrise.’

  Halima scowled at her. ‘We have known each other for a long time, Farah. Tell me what you’re up to. You know I don’t like to be kept in the dark about what’s going on around me.’

  ‘We’re going to carry out the plan. We just have to set things in motion. All I’m asking you to do is to be on the roof today before dark.’

  Halima raised her voice and said in a threatening tone, ‘Farah, you have to explain to me exactly what you intend to do!’

  Farah replied quietly, trying to avoid causing further tension. ‘I have asked Emir Nasser to come here tonight.’

  ‘What? Are you mad?’

  ‘I’m not mad. We need to retrieve the dagger from him. Otherwise he will continue to blackmail us with it and make our lives a living hell.’ Farah came closer to comfort Halima. ‘I asked him to come at night to trick him into thinking I am you. I will distract him and then lull him into a false sense of security until I get the dagger from him. Nothing else will happen, so don’t worry.’

  Halima was horrified. ‘Farah, he wants me. He wants to do with me what a man does with his wife. He doesn’t just want to mess about. He wants to take my honour in return for the dagger! I told you before, I won’t allow you to sacrifice your honour for mine.’

  Farah spoke quietly, trying to assure her mistress. ‘Nothing like that will happen. I know what men are like. I will take the dagger from him with some promises. Men are weak when it comes to women. I’ll take advantage of this, so please trust me just this once!’

  Halima was beside herself. Farah did not manage to reassure her, but what other option was there? If the dagger stayed with the emir, she would remain in a vulnerable position. She would be at the mercy of any rumour he could fabricate about her, so there was no other way but to trust Farah and her plan, even if it did not feel right to her.

  The sun went down. Farah pressed her mistress to go to the roof, asking her not to return until sunrise. Farah then sat in the dark, waiting.

  As the minutes passed, Farah played the plan in her head over and over again. She was afraid she might have forgotten something. How was she going to deal with the emir? How would she address him, and what was she going to tell him?

  Farah did not know the man, but she had seen him at the harbour in Al-Uqair when she was with Halima secretly taking part in Bin Rahhal’s send-off. She remembered that she did not like his comportment or his tone.

  The only fuzzy detail in the plan was what she would do between the moment he entered the house and the moment she retrieved the dagger from him. Farah knew she had to rely on her resourcefulness and fortitude, but she felt these could be unpredictable and ineffectual against someone so base and villainous.

  There was a knock on the door. It was Emir Nasser. Farah lifted her eyes to the sky as if in prayer, then walked towards the door, holding a lantern in her hands. The flame danced with her movements. Her hands were shaking and her trembling knees could barely support her.

  Farah put her ear to the door. ‘Who’s there?’

  A whispering voice answered back, ‘It is I, Emir Nasser.’

  Farah blew out the lantern and opened the door very slowly. It was pitch black outside, and the emir could barely see her silhouette. She asked him to follow her inside.

  He walked behind her trying to find his way in the dark, until they reached a room not far from the entrance. Nasser knew this was not Halima’s bedroom, but he thought to himself that it would nonetheless do the trick. Nasser was optimistic this would be the start of a long affair.

  He
felt his way until he found the bed, and sat down on it. ‘Who are you? Are you her maid Farah? Go fetch your mistress fast!’

  The stench of alcohol and the emir’s obvious inebriation helped Farah gather some courage, which she sorely needed. ‘Fine, my mistress will come in a few minutes. But she too has conditions.’

  The emir retorted loudly, ‘What conditions does she have this time? I’ve never seen anyone coyer than this mistress of yours!’

  ‘She asks you not to speak with her at all. Then you must leave before dawn.’

  The emir caressed the bed with both hands to check how soft and comfortable it was. ‘Aha! Now I know why we are sitting in the dark. But that’s all right, it’ll change once we get to know each other better.’

  Farah stretched out her hand in front of him. ‘Did you bring the dagger with you?’

  The emir reached inside his garments and took out the dagger. He stuck out his left hand trying to find hers, then grabbed her right hand and placed the dagger in her palm. ‘Give it to your mistress this time. I hope you don’t have a lover other than Jawhar to give it to. Try not to lose it again.’

  The emir let out a howl of amusement that made her shudder. She felt a strong urge to pull her hand away from his. Farah did not feel safe having her wrist being held like this, since Jawhar had done the same thing. She realised Jawhar was little more than his master’s faithful dog, who told him everything – including what he had done to her.

  Farah’s heart was broken. She almost grabbed the dagger and stabbed the emir but she did not have the courage. She thanked her lucky stars Nasser was not able to see the expression on her face.

  ‘So your mistress doesn’t want me to talk to her! Fine. She will want to talk to me soon enough. Women are all the same. Now go and get her.’

  Farah left the room, trying not to say anything else. She felt her heart was about to jump out of her chest. She closed the door behind her, leaned against it and began to weep.

  A few minutes later, Farah trudged back to the room. She was shaking, and tried as best as she could to steady her limbs. She closed the door with a click that the emir heard. He was lying on the bed.

  ‘At last, Halima! You’ve resisted me for too long. Come to your new lover!’

  Moths swarmed around the lantern outside, undeterred as ever by the sight of the dead insects on the ground beneath, burned by the flame. The frogs seemed to croak louder, as though purposely trying to cover up the misdeeds of the night. A young tortoise moved slowly towards a nearby stream. It fell in and made a splash, causing the insects to stop singing, if only for a few moments.

  Shortly before dawn, when it was still dark outside, Farah tried to rouse the emir. She shook him repeatedly but he would only mutter unintelligibly and then return to snoring. Farah kept trying until he opened his eyes and sobered up; he knew that he had to leave. Farah did not let down her guard until she saw the door close behind him, and heard the sound of the horse’s hooves fade away.

  The sun rose, and bathed Halima’s face as she slept on the roof of the house. Initially she had been unable to fall asleep. She could not stop thinking about Farah, and she was tormented with guilt. But she had finally drifted off late in the night.

  A swarm of flies buzzed over her face and woke her up. She sat up abruptly, as though awaking from a disturbing nightmare. Halima tried to organise her thoughts: what had happened the night before?

  Halima darted to Farah’s room. The maid was still in bed, under the covers. Farah shivered from the cold. Her skin had turned pale blue, and she had black bags around her eyes.

  Halima pulled back the cover. She saw a pool of blood covering half of Farah’s body. She had slit her wrists with the same dagger that the emir had returned to her. The bloodstained dagger was by her side. Halima grabbed the dagger, quickly examined its blade, and then threw it away.

  ‘No! What have you done, Farah?’

  Halima shook Farah, trying to revive her. She heard her slur something.

  She put her ear closer to Farah’s mouth and heard her falter, ‘W-w-we finally got the dagger, H-H-Halima. Please forgive me! I didn’t want to put you in that position. That bastard J-J-Jawhar betrayed me. I tried to defend your honour with mine.’

  Farah licked her lips and asked for a drink of water. Before Halima stood up to fetch water, Farah grabbed her hand as though pleading with her to stay.

  Farah quivered and let out one last exhale. Her body froze, her wide-open eyes staring at the ceiling.

  All the servants in the house heard Halima’s ear-piercing scream, as she began to cry inconsolably. ‘Don’t leave me by myself, Farah! Don’t leave me! They have killed you . . . Damn them, I swear to God I will avenge you!’

  The servants did not understand whom she meant. Wailing in front of the dead never meant much anyway, they thought.

  The sun beat down on the farmstead. The frogs and insects fell silent. Halima’s loud sobs could be heard sporadically.

  The mood was different at Emir Nasser’s majlis. Nasser and Jawhar, who was eager to get his reward, were celebrating.

  ‘How was your night, my lord?’

  ‘Not great, but not too bad. Next time will definitely be better. She cried all night, and didn’t want to talk to me. Things will change once she gets used to me.’

  Jawhar’s expression turned into a sinister smile. ‘Where is the gift you promised me? I want my freedom, Your Highness. Haven’t I served you faithfully all these years?’

  ‘You will get what you want, Jawhar, don’t rush it. But first, there is something else I need you to do.’

  ‘What do you want me to do, my lord?’

  ‘I want you to spread word that I slept with Halima last night. I want everyone in Bahrain to know. I want her to come begging me to marry her and save her reputation. Now go!’

  – 31 –

  Yemen

  At the foot of a mountain east of Aden, a shepherd hurled stones at several sheep that had started to stray. He repeated this a few times, but the stubborn sheep paid him no attention and stayed away from the herd. In the distance, the sea stretched out to infinity. He noticed a few dark silhouettes moving on the horizon. He focused his gaze, trying to make out their shapes, and realised it was an armada sailing from the east. The shepherd held his hand over his eyes to shield them from the glaring sun. He was able to see red dots on their sails, which a few minutes later crystallised into clear red crosses.

  The shepherd left his herd and dashed to the village. He explained what he had seen to an elderly man there, who ran back with him to a spot where the entire sea was visible. The man circled his eyes with his hands and looked out to sea. His face changed. He then hurried back to the village, and a few minutes later, a group of men were on their way to the shore. There, they took a small oared boat and set off to warn Emir Murjan in Aden.

  The coxswains knew they were in a race against the Portuguese fleet and had to reach the city before the Portuguese did. If they managed to alert Aden in time, it might just be able to prepare for this floating death before it arrived. The posse took the shepherd with them; being young, he would be able to run and reach the emir’s palace the quickest.

  The men rowed as fast as they could, their elder urging them to go quicker and not to stop. Beads of sweat formed on the exposed parts of their bodies, and the elder was now chanting battle songs while the others joined in chorus. The cityscape began to emerge in the distance.

  The villagers finally reached the coast. The young man jumped off the boat and sprinted towards the palace of Emir Murjan near the city wall. All but one of the guards failed to notice him. The guard hit him with a thin cane on his back, trying to stop him from barging in on the emir and his guests, but he failed. The shepherd writhed in pain but kept going.

  The young man entered the emir’s majlis, gasping for air. He reached behind his back and rubbed the place where the cane had hit him. The guard appeared behind him carrying a long stick, making a whipping motion in a
last-ditch attempt to stop the young man who had not complied with his orders.

  ‘Your Highness! Your Highness!’

  ‘What do you want, boy? What happened?’

  The shepherd, still panting, said, ‘The Portuguese armada is coming. You have only a few hours to prepare. We spotted the ships from our village and came to warn you as fast as we could.’

  Emir Murjan had been expecting the Portuguese. It was now a frequent occurrence for mutilated corpses and burnt ships to wash up on their shore. The tales of torture and suffering inflicted by the Portuguese that the survivors carried with them made people in Aden wary and apprehensive. In the past few months, the Adenis put piles of firewood on the mountaintops surrounding the port and along the coast, to serve as warning beacons.

  After the Battle of Diu, Albuquerque knew that he would not be able to maintain the upper hand unless he prevented Mamluk ships from reaching India. To achieve this, he had to take Aden, whatever the cost. The city was at the entrance to the Red Sea, and conquering it would ensure his control over the maritime route from Suez to India, and stop Mamluk galleys from participating in any future battles in the Arabian Sea.

  The Portuguese conquistador prepared the largest armada in the history of the Portuguese navy. Albuquerque assembled 1,700 sailors and soldiers, and 800 Malabars whom he crammed into twenty vessels of various sorts and sizes. He told his men that the goal was to occupy Aden, but withheld further details of his plan to maintain secrecy. He told his officers that the plan would change the course of history.

  When Albuquerque’s fleet reached the coast in the evening, the Yemeni defenders were ready for him. They lit a series of fires on the hilltops to illuminate the coast, almost turning the night into day, and preventing the attackers from slipping in under cover of darkness.