“Look over there,” said Sandokan, pointing to a man running towards the city.
“Sambigliong!” exclaimed Kammamuri. “If he keeps that pace, he’ll be back within two hours.”
“Let’s hope.”
The two men sat down at the base of a tree, their eyes still fixed upon the city.
An hour passed uneventfully, then a second, dragging on for what felt like a century. Finally, towards ten, a squadron of men appeared near a grove of chestnut trees.
Sandokan sprang to his feet, an anxious look upon his face. That man, though reputed a fierce and bloodthirsty pirate, had great affection for his good friend Yanez.
“Where is he? Where is he?” Kammamuri heard him murmur.
“The man in white in the middle of the squadron. Look!” said Kammamuri.
“Yes, yes, I see him!” exclaimed Sandokan with indescribable joy. “It’s him! Yanez!”
He remained there, stone still, leaning forward, his eyes fixed on that man in white, then once the squadron disappeared beneath the trees, he rushed down the hill at full speed and ran towards the camp.
Two pirates who had been standing watch in the forest arrived at the same moment.
“Captain,” they shouted, “They’re bringing Señor Yanez.”
“How large is the escort?” Sandokan asked anxiously.
“Twelve men, counting Sambigliong.”
“Armed?”
“No, sir.”
Sandokan placed his whistle to his lips and blew three sharp notes. Within minutes, the pirates had assembled around him.
“Prepare your weapons,” said the Tiger.
“Sir!” shouted James Brooke, sitting at the base of the tree, carefully guarded by Aier-Duk. “Are you going to ambush my men?”
The Tiger turned to face the Englishman.
“James Brooke,” he replied gravely, “The Tiger of Malaysia keeps his word. In five minutes, you’ll be free.”
“Who goes there?” shouted a sentry stationed two hundred meters from the trenches.
“My friends,” replied Sambigliong’s familiar voice, “Lower your rifles.”
Chapter 12
Tremal-Naik’s Resurrection
THE SQUAD EMERGED from the forest; it was comprised of Sambigliong, one of the rajah’s officers, ten unarmed Indian soldiers and Yanez, his arms and legs unbound.
At the sight of his friend, Sandokan could no longer contain himself. He ran to meet him, pushed away the Indian guards, and pressed the Portuguese to his chest.
“Yanez!... Brother!” he exclaimed, his voice choked with joy.
“Sandokan!” shouted the Portuguese, no less moved by the reunion. “I feared I’d never see you again!”
“We’ll never be parted again, my friend, you have my word.”
“As you have mine, little brother! Taking the rajah prisoner was a brilliant move. I’ve always said you were a great man. What happened to Tremal-Naik?”
“He’s not far from here.”
“Alive?”
“Alive, but still unconscious.”
“And Ada?”
“Still mad, but she’ll regain her reason soon enough.”
“Sir,” said a voice at that moment.
Sandokan and Yanez turned. James Brooke was standing a few paces from them with his arms crossed. Though he appeared calm, his face had turned slightly pale.
“You’re free to go, James Brooke,” said Sandokan. “The Tiger of Malaysia keeps his word.”
The rajah bowed courteously and walked off. But after he had gone a few paces, he suddenly turned and walked back.
“Tiger of Malaysia,” he said, “When shall we meet again?”
“Already plotting your revenge?” asked Sandokan, a note of irony in his voice.
“James Brooke does not forgive.”
Sandokan studied him for a moment, almost surprised that that man still dared to challenge him, then raised his right arm and pointed it towards the sea.
“You know where my island is, James Brooke. Come measure yourself whenever you wish. Mompracem’s waters are filled with the ships of those who thought they could defeat us. Remember, the Tiger and his men thirst for blood and they fear no one.”
“Expect a visit.”
“When?”
“In the coming year.”
The pirate smiled.
“I highly doubt it,” he said.
“Why?” the rajah asked, surprised.
“By then, you’ll no longer be the Rajah of Sarawak. There’s talk of insurrection in this kingdom of yours; Pangeran Macota will soon be sitting in your place.”
The rajah turned pale.
“Muda Hassim’s nephew? Why invent such things?” he asked, a note of unease in his voice.
“I invent nothing, sir,” replied Sandokan.
“What do you know? You must know something.”
“I do.”
“You do?”
“That’s all I’ll say,” said Sandokan.
“Well then, thank you for the warning.”
He bowed once again, and quickly set off towards Sarawak with his men.
Sandokan, arms crossed and stone faced, watched him go in silence.
“That man is going to cause us a lot more strife,” he sighed once Brooke had disappeared. “I can feel it.”
“What’s troubling you, Sandokan?” asked Yanez. “You seem ill at ease.”
“I am,” said the pirate.
“Why?”
“The rajah still has a score to settle with us.”
“Do you think he’ll attack?”
“I can feel it in my heart.”
“Don’t put too much stock in premonitions, little brother. We’ll leave these shores in two or three days, the rajah won’t dare follow us to Mompracem. What’s the plan now?”
“We’ll head for the bay. I don’t feel safe here.”
“Let’s go then. But what about Tremal-Naik?”
“He won’t awaken before noon.”
Sandokan gave the signal to depart and the squadron set off once again, following an old narrow trail into the forest. Carbines in hand, Sandokan, Yanez and ten of their most courageous men led the way. The stretcher-bearers followed close behind, then the rest of the pirates, in pairs, eyes scanning both sides of the path, ears straining to detect the slightest sound.
They had walked about half a mile, when Aier-Duk who had gone ahead to scout the path, suddenly stopped and levelled his rifle. Yanez and Sandokan rushed to his side.
“Don’t move,” said the Dyak.
“Did you spy something?” asked Sandokan.
“A shadow darted across that thicket.”
“A man or a beast?”
“A man, I think.”
“It could have been a Dyak,” said Yanez.
“Or one of the rajah’s spies,” said Sandokan.
“Could it be?”
“I’m almost certain. Aier-Duk, take four men and scout the surroundings. We’ll keep moving forward.”
The Dyak summoned four pirates and headed into the forest, crawling among the bushes, roots, and branches.
They resumed their march, advancing through rows of lontar trees, a type of palm renowned for its sugary sap; the tribes of Malaysia use its leaves for writing paper. A short while later, Aier-Duk and his men returned to the squadron. They had scoured the forest and though they had not spotted a soul, the pirates had found fresh footprints.
“Were there many?” Sandokan asked anxiously.
“Four sets,” replied the Dyak.
“Boots or bare feet?”
“Bare feet.”
“They could have been Dyaks. We’ll pick up the pace, it isn’t safe here.”
For the third time, the squadron set off, carefully scanning the trees and bushes. Three-quarters of an hour later, they reached the bank of a large river that emptied into a vast, semicircular bay.
Sandokan pointed to a small island about three hundred fifty meters from
them shaded by beautiful groves of sago palms, mangosteens, durian and arenghe trees. A Dyak fort stood not far from the shore, its teak walls strong enough to withstand a shower of cannonballs.
“Is that where they’re guarding the Priestess of the Eastern Temple?” asked Yanez.
“Yes,” replied Sandokan.
“You couldn’t have found her a better place. The bay is beautiful and the island is well defended. If James Brooke decides to attack us, he’ll have quite a fight on his hands.”
“The sea is only five hundred paces from the island, Yanez,” said Sandokan, “They could easily attack by ship.”
“We’ll defend ourselves.”
“We don’t have any cannons.”
“Our men are brave.”
“True, but we’ve lost a good number of them and—”
“What’s the matter?”
“Quiet! Did you hear that?”
“What, Sandokan?”
“I thought I heard a branch snap.”
“Where?”
“In the middle of that thicket.”
“Could there really be spies about? I’m starting to feel nervous, Sandokan.”
“Me too. Let’s go. Best we reach the island as soon as possible. Aier-Duk!”
The Dyak approached the Tiger.
“Take eight men and set up camp here,” said Sandokan. “If you spot anyone buzzing about, report it immediately.”
Sandokan, Yanez and the others set off towards the bay. They quickly made their way through the thick forest lining the shore, and reached a small inlet, where a launch had been hidden beneath a mound of reeds and laurel branches.
The Tiger cast a rapid glance about; though he did not spot anyone, he appeared ill at ease.
“One of my men should have been guarding this launch,” he said.
“He’s probably returned to the fort,” said Yanez.
“Without the launch!?!... Yanez... my heart is racing... Something bad has happened, I can feel it.”
“Bad? What do you mean?”
“I think Ada’s been kidnapped.”
“Impossible!”
“Quiet! Hear that?”
“Someone’s coming!”
“Yes, Captain Yanez,” confirmed a pirate, as the men drew their weapons.
There was a slight movement among the thickets a hundred paces from the shore.
“Who goes there?” shouted Sandokan.
“Mompracem,” replied a voice.
Minutes later, a pirate emerged from the bushes clutching his rifle. He was panting and sweating, as if he had just come from a long run.
“Long live the Tiger!” he exclaimed, as his eyes fell upon the pirate captain.
“Where did you go you?” asked Sandokan.
“To scout the forest, Captain.”
“Where’s the priestess?”
“In the fort.”
“Are you certain?”
“I told Koty to watch over her. He’s been with her for the last two hours.”
Sandokan let out a sigh of relief.
“How is she?” he said.
“Fine.”
“What was she doing when you left?”
“She was sleeping the last time I saw her.”
“Did you see anyone?”
“No, but Koty spotted a man walking along the shore this morning. He was eyeing the fort suspiciously; once he realized he was being watched, he retreated into the forest.”
“Did you find him?”
“I searched for him but without success.”
“One of the rajah’s spies?” asked Yanez.
“Most likely,” replied Sandokan, troubled by the news. “Probably scouting for an attack.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Set sail as soon as possible.”
The two captains and their men jumped into the launch, rowed the two hundred meters to the island and pulled ashore a few metres from the fort. Koty stood at the gate, waiting for them.
“Is the priestess still asleep?” asked Sandokan.
“Yes, Captain.”
“Anything suspicious to report?”
“No.”
“Let’s go see her then,” said Yanez.
Sandokan pointed to Tremal-Naik who had been set down upon a patch of grass and leaves.
“It’s just a few minutes before noon,” he said. “We’ll wait until he revives.”
He ordered his men to enter the fort then sat down beside the Indian and studied the man’s face.
“How long before he awakens?” asked Yanez, sitting down beside him.
“It won’t be long now. His blood has already started to circulate. See? The colour is slowly returning to his skin.”
“Are you going to take him to Ada?”
“Not immediately, but he’ll see her before nightfall.”
“What if she doesn’t recognize him? What if she doesn’t regain her reason?”
“She will.”
“I have my doubts, little brother.”
“Well then, we’ll try a little test.”
“What kind of test?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
“Why so much mys—”
“Shhh!”
Tremal-Naik’s lips trembled; his chest rose almost imperceptibly.
“He’s waking,” murmured Yanez.
Sandokan studied the Indian’s face then placed a hand on the man’s forehead.
“Yes, it shouldn’t be long now,” he said.
A second breath, stronger than the first, caused Tremal-Naik’s chest to rise once more. His lips moved slightly, his hands closed slowly then his eyes opened and widened in surprise as his gaze rested upon Sandokan.
The hunter lay there stone still for a moment, too stunned to move, then, suddenly, he sat up and exclaimed, “Alive! I’m... still alive!”
“And free,” said Yanez.
The Indian looked at the Portuguese and recognized him immediately.
“You!... you!” he exclaimed. “What happened? How did I get here?”
“Good Lord!” exclaimed Yanez, laughing. “Have you forgotten the pill I gave you back at the fort?”
“Ah!... Yes!... I remember... you came to see me... Sir, thank you for having freed me!”
Tremal-Naik had rushed to Yanez’s feet. The Portuguese immediately picked him up and pressed him to his chest.
“You’re among, friends, Tremail-Naik.”
“How kind you are, sir!” exclaimed the Indian, beside himself with joy. “Free! I’m free! Thank you, sir, thank you!”
“That’s the man you should be thanking,” said Yanez, pointing to Sandokan, who, deeply moved, had not once taken his eyes off the Indian. “You owe your freedom to the Tiger of Malaysia.”
Tremal-Naik rushed towards Sandokan, embraced him and said, “You are my friend, for life! If there is ever anything I can do to repay—”
A cry of joy erupted from behind them, cutting off the Bengali’s words. Kammamuri, who had just come out of the fort, was running towards them shouting, “Master! Master!”
Tremal-Naik rushed towards the loyal Maratha and the two embraced, each unable to utter a word.
“Kammamuri! Kammamuri!” the Indian exclaimed at last. “I never thought I’d see you again. How did you get here? I thought the Thugs had killed you!”
“No, master. I escaped at the first opportunity and immediately set off to free you.”
“To free me! You learned where I was?”
“Yes, master, I found out all I could. Ah! Master! The tears I shed after that fateful night. I can hardly believe you’re standing here before me. I’ll never leave your side again, master! I promise!”
“As do I, Kammamuri.”
“We’ll live on Mompracem with Señor Yanez and the Tiger of Malaysia. What noble men, master! If you knew how much they’ve done for you, if you knew how many battles—”
“There’s no need to go into detail, Kammamuri,” said Yanez. “Other
men would have done as much.”
“That’s not true, master. No men would ever have done what Señor Yanez and the Tiger of Malaysia did for you.”
“But why go to such great pains to help me?” asked Tremal-Naik. “I’ve never met either of you gentlemen before.”
“Because you’re Ada Corishant’s fiancé,” said Sandokan, “And my wife was Ada Corishant’s cousin.”
At that name, the Bengali stepped back, swaying slightly as if he had just been stabbed in the chest. He buried his face in his hands and murmured, “Ada!... My beloved Ada!...”
A sob tore from his chest and two tears, perhaps the first he had ever shed, rolled down his bronze cheeks. Sandokan walked to the poor Indian’s side, lowered his hands, and said kindly, “Why the tears, Tremal-Naik? This is a joyous day.”
“Ah, sir!” murmured the Indian. “If you knew how much I love that woman! Ada! Ah, my Ada!”
He sobbed again as new tears welled in his eyes.
“You have no reason to weep, Tremal-Naik,” said Sandokan. “You have not lost your beloved Ada.”
The Indian raised his head. A flash of hope shone in his dark eyes.
“She’s alive?”
“Alive and here on this very island!” said Sandokan.
A savage cry erupted from Tremal-Naik’s lips.
“Here!... She’s here!” he shouted, looking about desperately. “Where is she? I want to see her! I want to see her! Ada! Ah!... My beloved Ada!...”
He attempted to rush towards the fort, but Sandokan quickly grabbed his arm and held him back.
“Wait, there’s something you should know,” he said. “She’s mad.”
“Mad!... Ada, mad!” shouted the Indian. “What! How?! I have to see her, sir! I have to see her! If only for a moment, I—”
“You’ll see her, I promise.”
“When?”
“In a few minutes.”
“Thank you, sir! Thank you!”
“Sambigliong!” shouted Yanez.
The Dyak, who was carefully examining the walls of the fort to ensure they could sustain an attack, immediately rushed to him.
“Is the priestess still asleep?” asked Sandokan.
“No, Captain,” replied the pirate. “She left several minutes ago with her guards.”
Sandokan: The Pirates of Malaysia (The Sandokan Series Book 3) Page 15