by Peter Grant
“Given trained workmen and good materials, no more than four or five days.”
“Good. I’ll advise the Governor accordingly.” He lowered his voice. “Make sure your crew understand that they are to say nothing at all about your passengers. Discretion is critical.”
“I have already done that, Ra’id. They can be trusted to keep their mouths shut.”
Taghri dispatched one of his guards with an urgent message to the Governor, then hurried to the Temple of Kokat. The prioress was busy, but he sent a message that his business was important. She came to the visiting room within a few minutes.
“What is it that could not wait, young man?” She was frowning.
“I’m sorry I interrupted you, mother prioress, but I thought you should hear this news as soon as possible.” He explained about the arrival of Gulbahar’s former ladies-in-waiting, and their condition. “They’ve been through a very hard time – one of them mentioned it was only their faith that kept them from committing suicide at times. They need your spiritual guidance and counsel, mother. Will you go?”
The prioress’ face had changed as she listened, her lips tightening grimly even as her eyes softened with compassion. “Yes, of course. You did right to interrupt me.”
Taghri sighed. “I… I don’t know what else to do, mother prioress. I can stop some of the gossip about them simply by challenging anyone who voices it to trial by combat. I’m confident enough in my ability with the sword to be fairly sure of the outcome. The problem is…”
“The problem is,” she concluded, laying her hand on his arm, “that you’d be killing a man for telling the truth, in order to cover it up. His spreading vile gossip would be wrong, deserving of punishment, but you’d be equally wrong to kill him for saying what would not, after all, be untrue. The real fault lies in all who look down on a woman who’s been forced to endure the unendurable.”
“You’re right, mother. Also, that won’t help them make good marriages, or have happy lives from now on. If a suitor wasn’t told about their past, he could sue for divorce if he ever found out, on the grounds of deception.” He shook his head in anger and frustration. “To make matters worse, I’m about to lead soldiers on a raid that’ll almost certainly see some of them rape women captives. I’ve no way to stop them, short of threatening to kill those who do, and publicly carrying out the threat. I did that on my last raid, but there I had the excuse that time was of the essence, and we couldn’t afford to waste it. This time, that won’t be the case. If I gave that order, many of my soldiers would leave my service. They’d be convinced I’d gone mad. It’s such an accepted part of war that I don’t see any way of stopping it.”
She sighed. “You’re as trapped as the women are, because there’s nothing they can do, either. Most soldiers see the enemy as a thing, not a person, and as such his women are things too. That’s one of the reasons our Order exists. A number of our sisters join us every year after such experiences. They see no other way to be free of the taint of what’s been done to them. We don’t hold it against them, of course. They can’t marry as sisters, but since it’s unlikely they could make a good marriage any longer, that merely makes a virtue out of necessity.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Not many do. We don’t talk about it unless the need arises. There’s one more thing that may help. I’ll write to Princess Gulbahar, suggesting that she take these ladies back into her service. That’ll be a public affirmation that she and her family, at least, don’t regard them as dishonored.”
“Good idea! I’ll do the same.”
Taghri had been writing to Gulbahar every day, adding each new entry to the foot of the previous one in a long scroll. Three prior instalments had already gone to Kalba aboard ships heading in that direction, and two equally long letters had arrived from her. He’d entrust the latest missive to the galley.
As the days grew longer and the weather began to warm, the training drew to a close. A hundred and forty-seven men had survived it, to be judged fit and ready for combat by Taghri and his instructors. The Governor had again been generous with surplus weapons from his armory, which had been issued. Uniforms had been purchased, and supplies ordered for the journey and the aftermath of the mission.
Taghri gave the men a week’s liberty in Alconteral, to let off steam and relax in preparation for what he warned them would be a difficult and dangerous task. He still hadn’t told anyone where they were going, making only vague hints that it would be “another raid like Quwain”. He knew that every potentially hostile port within several hundred miles would have begun preparing its defenses at once on hearing the news – but his actual target almost certainly would not. In fact, it would probably regard itself as safe from him upon hearing the news, because it had little conventional trade to attract his predatory attention.
A curtain of silence had descended upon the Governor’s apartments in the palace. The four ‘visiting noblewomen from Kalba’ had apparently decided to stay with his family for a few weeks, but nothing more was officially said about them. Questions from the curious were turned aside. Those who persisted were less politely – and very firmly – discouraged.
20
Taghri was going over the accounts with Fihr when one of his bodyguards knocked at the door of the factor’s office. “Sir, the chebec has been sighted. She’ll dock within the hour.”
“At last! I’d begun to fear something had gone wrong. At least the delay meant that we were able to meet our two-thousand-dirac investment target at last.”
Fihr nodded. “Yes, sir, but we’ve actually committed to spending close to double that, what with your early expenses on the ship and cannon, and hiring so many people, and equipping them, and provisioning the venture for so long.”
“You’ve documented all that, so we can recover our costs from the profits of the raid?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good man.” Taghri rose from the table, stretching. “Send word to both baghlahs and both boums. They’re to load rations and other supplies today from our warehouses, and be ready to sail tomorrow evening. We’ll send their passengers aboard tomorrow afternoon. You’ve bought or hired the extra bedans I asked for?”
“Yes, sir, six of them. We now have eight in all, including our original two.”
“Send the six off with passage crews by this afternoon; three sailing, and towing the other three. They’re to wait for us at the rendezvous. Our two will follow, towed by the baghlahs as usual.”
“Aye, sir.”
Taghri was waiting on the quayside when the chebec swept into the harbor. All around him, seamen paused in their tasks and stared at the changes to the ship. Her mainmast now bore two square sails, and her foremast – now vertical, instead of leaning forward – and mizzenmast each carried a large gaff sail. Between the foremast and the bowsprit, a trysail was furled. Her sides had been rebuilt with higher bulwarks, which now had six gun ports per side instead of the original four. Sailors and gunners thronged her deck. A ghanjah followed her into the harbor, carrying more of the men he’d sent for training.
Taghri hurried up the gangplank as soon as it had been swung across. Elhac and Prasad were waiting for him, and saluted as he came aboard.
“Thank the gods you got here at last!” he greeted them. “I’m very glad to see you. You’re almost two weeks overdue.”
“Sorry, sir,” Elhac apologized. “The changes were so extensive that we needed more time in the shipyard. After that, we had to spend a couple of weeks getting used to how she handled, before we dared risk the journey across the Great Bay.”
“I understand.” Taghri turned to Prasad. “Are you satisfied with her new twelve-pounders? What about the grasshopper guns?”
“We have seven of them in the ghanjah’s holds, sir – all I could find in the arsenals. The chebec’s twelve-pounders are very fine weapons. We trained with them on land while the ship was being prepared, then again once we got to sea. She’s turned into an excellent small
warship, sir.”
“I’m glad to hear it, because we’ll be using her as one before long. Are you ready to proceed at once?”
“Without a chance for some liberty, sir?” Elhac asked, his face falling. “We’ve been working very hard to get ready, and then get back here. The crew and the gunners could use a rest.”
“Sorry, but with the delay in your getting back, there isn’t enough time. On the other hand, if they do as well as I’m sure they will, the crew’s about to earn enough loot to more than make up for a short delay in liberty.”
Taghri had been watching the sailors on deck, who were listening intently to the exchange. When he’d asked about proceeding at once, their faces had fallen; but at the mention of money, they brightened up at once.
“We really need a day to re-provision and make minor repairs and adjustments, sir,” Elhac said tentatively.
“All right, take a day to do that, but make sure your crew doesn’t disappear into the city and not come back. We’ll sail tomorrow evening.”
Fihr mobilized every dock laborer he could hire to load provisions and other cargo aboard Taghri’s ships, while Sergeant-Major Hadi and his NCO’s searched through the taverns and brothels, rounding up all the newly-trained men, getting them back to Taghri’s estate outside the city, and making sure they had all their equipment and supplies. Meanwhile, Taghri bade a hasty farewell to the Governor and other investors, and dispatched a messenger to the Temple of Kokat. The prioress sent a brief acknowledgment.
Next morning, while last-minute supplies were being loaded, Taghri could at last spare enough time to consult Gunner Prasad. “What did your family have to say about my request?” he asked.
“They’ll be able to send the five hundred men you need as soon as they hear from you, sir. The ghanjah will stand by to carry your message to them. Ah… they ask, sir, whether they can become investors in your project – partners if possible. They think there’ll be long-term benefit in expanding our business to this side of the Great Gulf. If you agree, they’ll contribute labor and skills at their expense, rather than yours, as part of their share of the project. They’ve authorized me to discuss that with you, if you’re willing; and if we reach agreement, I’ll be the family’s representative for at least the first year or two.”
Taghri grinned inwardly. He’d hoped for just such a reaction. However, he was careful not to let his pleasure at the news show on his face. Prasad’s family were, after all, potential competitors, too. “I’m willing to consider that,” he said carefully, “provided we can work out an ironclad contract protecting everyone’s interests. It’s premature to speculate about that, of course. We’ll have to see how this goes.”
“Understood, sir.”
By noon, all the supplies and provisions – enough for everyone aboard the ships for at least a month, including the passengers – had been loaded. Taghri summoned all the captains to a meeting at the Peacock Inn, serving them a sumptuous meal. After the tables were cleared and his guards ensured that no curious ears were within hearing distance, he stood up.
“Here are charts showing where we’re going first,” he began, handing them around. “The inlet is where Malik Dregat’s galley put in after our fight with Abu Reis’ pirates. It’s big enough for all our ships, and there’s a smoothly sloping beach that’ll allow us to train our troops in disembarking and landing. We’ll spend five days there before moving on to our target.”
“And that is, sir?” one of the skippers asked.
Taghri frowned. “You should know better than to ask. I’ll tell you when the time comes, and not before. I don’t want any word leaking out to our destination before we arrive. That could get all of us killed. Worse, it’ll scare off all those who do business there, so we won’t get as much loot!”
The others laughed. Taghri smiled inwardly. He didn’t plan to tell them that there were precious few merchants where they were going – but he knew a lot of merchants, and a lot of seamen too, would be very happy to hear, in due course, where they’d gone and what they’d done there.
There were a number of issues to be resolved, such as sailing in company or individually, balancing the ships’ companies to ensure that enough trained people were available, and so on. Taghri saved one precaution to the last.
“We’ll depart shortly before sunset,” he told them. “In order to mislead anyone who’s watching to see where we go, I want us all to sail southwest when we leave, as if we were heading towards Quwain. After it’s completely dark, we’ll turn around and head northeast towards the inlet. There’s no moon tonight, so we shouldn’t be seen from the city as we pass it again. Keep far enough offshore that you’re hard to see, and don’t show any lights until you’re well past Alconteral. Got it?”
One of the captains shook his head dubiously. “It’ll be hard to keep station on each other without lights, sir.”
“That’s why you all have your own maps showing our destination. If we get separated, you can make your own way there. I expect everyone to be at the rendezvous by not later than noon, three days from now. If you get there earlier, don’t try to enter the inlet in the dark. Wait for daylight, so you can see what you’re doing. There’ll be half a dozen bedans waiting for us there.”
A trio of priestesses arrived from the Temple of Kokat at mid-afternoon. Taghri was expecting them, and showed them to the cabin he’d prepared for them aboard the chebec. “It’s close quarters, I’m afraid,” he apologized, “but we’ll all be very crowded. I’m sharing the captain’s cabin with him and the gunner.” Prasad had given up his cabin for the priestesses to use.
“We understand,” the prioress assured him. “We’ve traveled on ships before. We usually don’t have a cabin to ourselves. We normally have to endure the journey with all the other passengers, on the open deck or in a very smelly, cramped hold.”
“Yes,” another priestess agreed with a shudder of distaste. “The smell of rotten bilge gas isn’t something I want to smell again, ever in my life!”
Taghri grinned as he nodded his agreement. He glanced at the prioress. “You’ve brought it with you?”
“Yes, of course. Sister Hanifa is carrying it,” and she nodded to a middle-aged priestess, short and stocky, with well-muscled arms. “She is in charge of our sacrifices.”
“Good. Welcome aboard, Sister Hanifa. I hope we’ll have just the offering you need before long.”
She smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sure the Goddess awaits that particular sacrifice with great eagerness, sir.”
Taghri couldn’t suppress a sudden shiver, which he hoped the priestesses hadn’t noticed. He was accustomed to thinking about – and dealing out – death in battle, but even so, and despite his having thought of it in the first place, Sister Hanifa’s mission still sent chills down his spine. He could almost feel sorry for her intended offering… almost.
At the fourth hour of the afternoon, while the troops were being marched aboard their ships, Taghri went over to one of the boums. Aboard were the six scouts, six men of his bodyguard, and eight soldiers they’d selected between them, whom they trusted to obey orders and do a good job. He gathered the twenty men around him in the forepeak, and spoke softly, so as not to be overheard.
“Our success depends, in very large measure, on you doing your job,” he reminded them. “That’s why you’ll all get a double share of the loot for this raid, if we’re successful.”
The men grinned cheerfully. “Doubling my money always makes me happy, sir,” one of them assured him, to guffaws from the others.
“You’ll have to earn it. The scouts will get you over the mountains to within striking distance of your targets. Watch for my signal from the entrance to the bay. You won’t see it from the fort, but those who go to the slave pens will, and they’ll relay it. When you see it, the larger party will take the fort, while the smaller deals with the sentries at the slave pens. Remember, be as quiet as you can. If you have to kill anyone, make sure to make no noise. We’ve
got to leave everyone asleep until it’s too late for them to get organized and mount an effective defense against us.”
“What if the weather’s too bad for us to see your signal, sir?” one asked.
“If it’s that bad, the ships won’t be able to see the leading marks, so we’ll postpone our attack for one night. If it’s bad two nights in a row, we’ll wait one more; but on the third night, weather or not, we’ll have to make our move. If that happens, we’ll start our attack at the second hour of the morning. You do the same.”
“Aye, sir.”
“One ship will land its troops at the slave quarters, two others will land theirs on the beach outside the harbor, and a fourth at the fishing beach on the far side of town. You’ll open the gates to let us into the town square. I’ll bring the chebec into the harbor, to use her cannon in support of the attack. If you don’t succeed in taking the fort, you’ll have to get warning to me somehow before I sail in, otherwise the heavy cannon on its walls will make sure I never get out again.”
“Will do, sir,” the chief scout said soberly. “I guess we can always light a fire, or blow up the powder magazine, or something like that. It’ll warn the rest that they’re being attacked, but by then I guess that won’t matter.”
“No, it won’t – and if you blow up the magazine, it’ll disable the fort, so I’ll still be able to get in. The chebec’s cannon can handle the galleys, if they have to. Still, I’d rather you didn’t blow it up unless you have no other choice. After we win, I have plans for that building. In fact, when you’ve taken it, search every room on every level. Make sure there are no fanatics who might try to blow it up, with you inside it.”
The men nodded in vehement unison. “You may be sure we shall, sir!” the chief scout replied, with great feeling. “Double loot’s no use if you’re not alive to spend it!”
“Very well. Your boum will be the last of our ships to set sail. That means, when we turn around, you’ll be ahead of all the others. Your skipper will take you across the sea and up the coast to the place you landed before. He’ll join the rest of us after he’s put you ashore.”