The Holy Sail

by Abdulaziz Al-Mahmoud

  Hussein’s old fears returned to him, haunting his thoughts. He summoned the treasurer and the quartermaster, ordering them to prepare reports on the state of finances and armaments in Jeddah, and to prepare for the arrival of the fleet from Suez.

  The Hajj season came, bringing with it a flurry of news from all around the world. The Safavids had wreaked havoc in Iraq, where much blood had been shed, and massacres took place on an almost daily basis. The Safavids had turned the Imam Abu Hanifa Mosque into a stable for their horses, and slaughtered a great number of Sunni scholars. They also brought large numbers of Shias from India and Sindh to resettle them in Iraq.

  But one report in particular greatly vexed Hussein and made him extremely concerned about the future. Emir al-Mahmal of Egypt, who was in charge of the ceremonial Hajj palanquin, told him that the Ottomans had intercepted an emissary sent by Shah Ismail to Sultan al-Ghawri. They found with him a letter asking the Mamluk sultan to join an alliance with the Portuguese to fight the Ottomans.

  ‘Sultan Selim swore an oath to take revenge against Ghawri for his betrayal!’ Emir al-Mahmal said.

  Hussein remembered the conversation that had taken place at the home of Khawaja Attar in the presence of Bin Rahhal. Attar was right when he said that the Safavids were in contact with Ghawri to lure him into an alliance with them and the Portuguese. Hussein wondered whether it was possible for the letter to be a fake, meant to drive a wedge between the Ottoman sultan and Sultan al-Ghawri. Hussein had trouble reconciling Ghawri’s desire to fight the Portuguese in the sea and forge an alliance with them and the Safavids on land, and felt deeply anxious about all these contradictory messages.

  Hussein asked the dawadar to send a letter to Cairo asking the sultan to tell him the truth about the Safavid emissary who had been apprehended by the Ottomans in Syria.

  Many days passed and no response came from Cairo. Hussein knew this was not normal. After Hussein insisted on sending another letter, a response finally came from Cairo. The sultan had left for Syria to meet the Ottoman army marching south in battle.

  Hussein knew that war between the two sides was inevitable. There was nothing he could do now. The swords had already been drawn, and would not be sheathed again until they had been satisfied with the blood of their victims. Hussein knew too well that wars started with mutual threats and ended with rivers of blood.

  Only three ships made it to Jeddah from Suez; delivery of the others was impossible. Nothing came from there, the dawadar told Hussein; everything was paralysed.

  Hussein learned afterwards that the skirmishes between the Ottoman and Mamluk armies had escalated dramatically, and that the two sides were gearing up for a pitched battle outside the city of Aleppo.

  The days that followed passed like months, weighed down by anxiety and uncertainty. Carrier pigeons stopped coming, and all other means of communication were disrupted. There was nothing to be done but wait for the dust to settle.

  Hussein did not know what he should or could do. He had no fleet that could sail to fight the Portuguese. He could not leave Jeddah for Cairo because of the military situation. Rebellious tribes in Hejaz were emboldened, attacking the Mamluk garrisons from time to time. The road from Jeddah to Mecca was no longer safe, and the few hundred untrained and ill-equipped Mamluk guards could do little to repel these attacks. Only Jeddah’s city wall held.

  – 34 –

  Al-Ahsa, Eastern Arabian Peninsula

  Accompanied by a handful of servants, Halima took a ship from Bahrain to Al-Uqair and then to Al-Ahsa, where she would stay at Bin Rahhal’s home in the desert oasis.

  The house was exactly as its owner had left it, a shrine to Bin Rahhal just like his late mother’s room was a shrine to her. The servants received her warmly, trying their best to console her after her husband’s death.

  Everything in the place reminded her of him: his clothes, his bedroom, his books, his papers piled up on the desk, and his weapons hanging on the wall. Even the pond where he liked to bathe in the summer was a memento of Bin Rahhal.

  The servants did not withhold any information from her, and were very forthcoming when she asked about the house and its late owner’s routine there.

  Halima asked for directions to Sultan Muqrin’s estate. When she got there, she was told he had not yet arrived, but that he was expected back in Al-Ahsa in the next few days. She did not manage to get an exact date, and she was not told for how many days she would have to wait. No one knew, and she had to live with her unbearable regret, pain, anger and sorrow for an indefinite period of time until his return.

  The world turned dark. The sultan could be away for months, she told herself, and the palace were only telling her he was going to be back soon to avoid upsetting her. She returned to her late husband’s house and decided to visit his mother’s room.

  Everything in the room appeared to be frozen in time: her bed, her walking stick, her prayer mat and gown and her prayer beads. Halima entered cautiously and searched every corner in the chamber. She moved some sheets that were used to cover a large old wooden chest. It had beautiful but faded engravings of animals grazing near a stream. She made two passes over the chest with her hands, wiping the dust from the engravings. Halima then took a cloth and dusted off the chest, revealing marvellous hidden drawings.

  She opened the chest gently, and saw inside many headscarves belonging to Bin Rahhal’s mother, and a tied sack that contained a large piece of ambergris. She re-tied the sack and replaced it where she had found it. Halima reached to the bottom of the chest, where she found a metal box. She opened it and found a pile of gold chains, bracelets, anklets and pearl necklaces.

  She stood up and searched the room more thoroughly, and found another box containing a large quantity of pearls. She laid all the treasures on a large sheet. She left the room and returned with her own jewels she had brought from Bahrain, adding them to the pile on the sheet. She wrapped it and tied it tightly into a heavy bundle of jewels, gold and pearls.

  On the following morning, she asked one of the servants to point her in the direction of the best jeweller in Al-Ahsa. She took the bundle and went to his workshop, accompanied by a maid and a bodyguard. When she got to the jeweller’s, she asked the guard to remain outside and stop anyone from entering behind her.

  She unpacked the wrapped sheet in front of the jeweller, handing him the items one by one. He weighed each item and noted it down on a piece of paper. When all the items had exchanged hands, she said, ‘Put your seal on this paper to prove you have received them from me.’

  The jeweller took out a small seal from his pocket and stamped the paper, which she took and put in her pocket. ‘I want you to make me a golden palm tree using all the gold before you. The fruits must be made from the stones, and the base from the pearl beads. I want it to be a masterpiece the likes of which no one has ever seen before. Use all the jewels I gave you, because I am going to count every stone and every pearl to ensure you have done as I say. If you finish the job to my satisfaction, a very precious prize will be yours.’

  The jeweller knew he had to make a masterpiece fit for a king. He was determined to create the best work a jeweller had ever made in Al-Ahsa, hoping it would immortalise his name and open the doors of kings’ palaces before him.

  The jeweller finished within a few weeks. He placed the piece inside an airtight box of sandalwood, on which he installed a lock. He gave the key and the box to Halima, asking her not to open it until she was in a safe place and telling her that his creation was something for which kings would go to war.

  Back at Bin Rahhal’s home, Halima closed the door behind her. She opened the box and saw a majestic masterpiece that she had not imagined even in her dreams: a palm, a cubit long from top to bottom, with fronds crafted from melted gold. The date-shaped parts were made from colourful gemstones, threaded together in a breathtaking manner. The golden stem had the same intricate protrusions of real palm fronds. And the whole tree was planted in a small meadow of black and
white pearls of all shapes, the largest ones placed near the stem and decreasing in size as the pearls stretched outwards.

  Halima examined each jewel, pearl and engraving with her hands, fascinated by the object in front of her. This tree contained her and her murdered husband’s entire fortune. She had turned their fortune into bait that no one could resist, and that could undermine any principle or value in the blink of an eye. Halima understood the power and influence of money, and wanted to use it to avenge Bin Rahhal.

  She took out a sheet of paper and wrote a letter to her father.

  Dear Father,

  I was pleased to hear from the herald that you had survived the Portuguese invasion. I hope and pray to God that you will remain safe.

  I have tried in the past months to hide from you the truth about my circumstances, but I can’t bear to conceal it any longer.

  Before Sultan Muqrin left to fight in Najd, he appointed his cousin Emir Nasser to rule in his stead. He is a foul person and a licentious drunkard. His reputation among women is akin to the reputation of a wolf among sheep.

  The emir sent my husband away to India to partake in the fight against Portugal, hoping he would perish there so he could have me for himself. My husband must have known this, as he ordered me to sail to Hormuz straight after his departure. But the Portuguese lurked in the sea, and by then had occupied Hormuz, cutting us off from each other. I decided to remain in Bahrain hoping for Bin Rahhal to return.

  Emir Nasser’s slave Jawhar tricked Farah into thinking he would marry her if he could buy his freedom from the prince. Farah blindly gave him a precious dagger that Sultan Muqrin had given my husband for safekeeping. Jawhar gave the dagger to the emir, who started using it to blackmail me. But Farah sacrificed her honour for my sake and was able to retrieve the blade, before she killed herself.

  The emir murdered Bin Rahhal upon his return from India. I am now all alone in this world, and I have no family but you. I want to avenge my husband and Farah and punish this murderer.

  I have travelled to Al-Ahsa to meet Sultan Muqrin and tell him the whole story, but he has yet to return from his expedition.

  I can no longer bear it. I have waited for too long. I am sending with this letter a gift. I am hoping you may deliver it to King Salghur, and remind him of the hefty price he paid to return to the throne. You must tell him that whoever rules Hormuz and Bahrain will rule the Gulf. This gift might induce him to retake Bahrain and kill Emir Nasser, because there is no room for both of us in this world.

  I will not be able to return to Hormuz before meeting Sultan Muqrin and explaining to him what has happened. This gift has consumed all my fortune. Spare no effort to use it as the price of Emir Nasser’s life.

  Your daughter,

  Halima

  Several days later, the box containing the jewelled palm reached Attar. The Hormuzi vizier was pleased to see his daughter’s letter enclosed with the parcel, and started reading it without opening the box. As he took stock of her revelations, he became gradually incensed, while at the same time feeling bereaved for the death of Farah, whom he had treated as a second daughter. Attar decided to act.

  He entered the king’s palace escorted by two of his servants carrying the box. Attar ordered them to place it in front of the king in his majlis, then told them to leave the hall.

  He opened the box gently and took out the palm, which he kept by his side. Attar watched the king to gauge his reaction.

  ‘What do you think, Your Majesty?’

  Salghur left his throne and approached the palm. He caressed it with his hands as though touching soft silk. ‘Is it . . . is it real?’

  ‘Everything you see in front of you is real. Everything that glitters is made of gold, everything that is white is made from pearls, and everything that is coloured is a precious stone. This is a priceless masterpiece, Your Majesty!’

  ‘Who is it from? Who sent it?’

  ‘My daughter Halima has sent it from Bahrain. She is trying to tell you that this island is so rich that its palms almost produce pearls like the seas that surround Bahrain, and that its land is pure gold. We have paid a heavy price for the Jabrid intervention, but we can retake the island once more.’

  Salghur sat back on the throne, but he could not keep his eyes off the masterpiece. ‘We have signed an agreement with the Jabrids, ceding our possessions in Bahrain and waiving the taxes they used to pay us—’

  Attar interrupted him. ‘Indeed, we have agreed with them on all these things, but the situation has changed. We are in dire need of Bahrain now. We don’t have sufficient funds to run Hormuz since the Portuguese arrived. Trade has ground to a halt, and without Bahrain and its fortunes, we won’t last for very long.’

  Salghur stood up from his throne again and walked to the window overlooking the sea. ‘Master Vizier, as you know, we no longer have an army. We don’t control our own affairs. Albuquerque does!’

  Attar returned the palm to its case, fearing someone might suddenly enter. Albuquerque and his officers could enter any room in the palace without asking permission.

  ‘Listen to me, Your Majesty. I know there is nothing we can do on our own. We are Albuquerque’s prisoners and we are alive because he permits it. But what I’m saying is that we can change all that if we want to!’

  King Salghur returned to his throne. ‘What are you trying to say exactly, Attar?’

  ‘I propose the following, Your Majesty: we show this masterpiece to Albuquerque. It will entice him to conquer Bahrain. We will be with him because he needs us. He does not know the island as well as we do. If the campaign succeeds, he will also need us to run the island, and we would be able to do with it as we please. You must understand, he who controls Hormuz and Bahrain controls the Gulf.’

  On the same day, Attar and the king went to the hall that Albuquerque sat in, with two servants carrying the box.

  ‘Gentlemen, what is this?’

  ‘A present for you, Governor, from my daughter Halima who lives in Bahrain.’

  ‘You never told me you had a daughter there!’

  ‘She is married to the Jabrid sultan’s vizier. He died recently. She sent you this gift to let you know how wealthy Bahrain is.’

  Attar opened the box, took out the palm and placed it in front of the conquistador.

  Albuquerque raised his eyebrows. His reptilian gaze disappeared for a few seconds before it returned. He approached the piece and touched it in several places, scrutinising the jewels decorating it.

  ‘I had asked you about Bahrain before but you said nothing about its fortunes. I suspected you might have been hiding something from me, so I sent a scout ship to sail around its coasts. The captain told me he saw a luscious green island with plentiful fruits and fresh water. He said the sea around it is abundant in pearls that the Jabrid sultan profits greatly from. I’ve been waiting for reinforcements from Portugal to send an expedition to take the island.’

  Albuquerque approached the vizier until their chests almost touched. ‘Hear me, Attar. You must know that there is nothing you can hide from me. Never do it again. Now tell me, if this island is so rich, why did you relinquish it?’

  Salghur hesitated but then decided to answer instead of Attar. ‘This was the price for helping me retake the throne, Governor. We signed an agreement with them waiving the tribute they paid and ceding Hormuz’s possessions in Bahrain.’

  A harsh look returned to Albuquerque’s eyes. ‘To hell with the treaties you signed with them! We will take the island. We need the money.’

  Albuquerque gave Attar an angry look. ‘Prepare as many ships and as many men as you can. I will send them an officer who never lost a battle in his life. I will send them António Correia.’

  – 35 –

  Al-Ahsa, Eastern Arabian Peninsula

  Halima felt she had stayed for too long in Al-Ahsa. Her main activity was to enquire from time to time about Sultan Muqrin, who had not yet returned from Najd. People knew Halima was staying at her deceased h
usband’s home. Some women tried to make her acquaintance, and the short visits they paid her were her only leisure. The days were monotonous, and people were concerned with the same things as the Bahrainis, except that they did not gossip about her and the intrigue with Emir Nasser.

  Halima was reluctant to return to Bahrain. In the house in Al-Ahsa mementos of her husband, his childhood, and even of his mother, whose memory he had kept alive, were all around her. Bin Rahhal’s phantom was with her everywhere in Al-Ahsa, and though they had memories in Bahrain, in Al-Ahsa his presence was gentler. She had also made a new life for herself here and new friends, and in Bahrain she would be returning to the painful memory of her husband’s death and the rumour mill that Emir Nasser continued to feed.

  She expected her father to avail himself of the gift she had sent him, and use it as leverage with King Salghur to convince him to retake Bahrain. Most of all, she wanted to avenge her husband and slay Emir Nasser. She was aching to see Emir Nasser dead, as her bitter thirst for vengeance could only be quenched by blood.

  Halima got her servants to load her luggage in a small convoy and headed to Al-Uqair. When she reached the harbour, she saw it was unusually crowded. Horses and camels were being led into large boats that were lined haphazardly along the wharf. There was much shouting and quarrelling and chaos, and Halima did not quite understand what was going on. She ordered her convoy to stop not far from the place, and asked one of her servants to investigate and report back.

  Her servant came back running to her howdah, pointing in the direction of a dust storm from the direction of the desert.

  She looked to where he was pointing, and saw thick dust filling the horizon. ‘What’s happening?’