Greek Fire

by James Boschert

  “Henry, we shall take them into the port. Do what you can to save that ship!” he ordered. “Guy, have the men stop their shooting. They have surrendered.”

  His companions, albeit reluctantly, went to work; and as their ship moved past the Arab vessel thin ropes with rocks tied to them were thrown to the few members of the Arab crew who were left on deck, who eagerly caught them and hauled them in as fast as they could. The waves were still as high as ever and it looked like an impossible task to Talon, but once his companions were agreed they leapt into action. Orders were shouted and men came running up the ladder to the afterdeck hauling the end of a large cable of about a hand’s spread in thickness behind them. This was tied to a weighted rope that was thrown across to the other ship, then the cable was hauled across the choppy waters, and another two cables followed.

  The Arabs hastened to bind these to the foremast so that the towing could begin. It appeared to take forever to complete this task, and all the while everyone was watching with fearful eyes the gap in the rocks come closer and the monstrous columns of spray tossed into the air on either side. It was going to take all of Henry’s seamanship to pull this off.

  Talon muttered a prayer and wondered if he had not condemned them all to a watery death. He could tell that all the crew of the Falcon were aware of the fearsome end they were facing if there was a mistake, and he waited with bated breath for the first terrifying and final rending crash of the ship upon the rocks. He glanced at Henry and then down at Guy, prepared to relay commands to the rowers who were waiting tense and frightened in the dark for orders to pull when needed.

  They felt a significant tug throughout the ship, and the cable that ran across the afterdeck became suddenly taut and hummed like a harp string as it took up the strain of the dead weight of the vessel behind them. Then the other cables did the same. Talon jumped aside and watched the cables, apprehensive that they might snap at any moment, but they held. The Falcon seemed to stop in its path for an instant and everyone held their breath. Then they began to sense movement in both ships. Guy brought the main sail down enough for it to catch the wind, which seized it and snapped it full. Then everyone held their breath again as the frightened steersmen, with Henry calling out orders, guided the ship to point at the middle of the sea break.

  Men were praying out loud at this point, but most like Talon were frozen where they stood. The ships rushed into the foaming, spume-filled gap in the rocks. Henry’s shouted commands were relayed to Guy, who bellowed down to Nigel. Oars moved up and down on one side or the other. Terrified sailors hauled the sail in, as the Falcon, with the vessel wallowing along directly behind, moved inexorably into the gap between the fearsome black rocks that stuck out of the sea like dragon’s teeth waiting to devour them They were committed now, and all prayed fervently for God’s help.

  Talon and Max stood helpless and terrified on the afterdeck well out of Henry’s way and away from the three cables that ran as straight as iron rods along the deck and out to the other ship. The roar of the seas crashing on the rocks on either side thundered in their ears and the spray flew like a mist all around them. The ship was drawn into the rush of water directly in the middle of the maelstrom swirling about the entrance, then they were swept through, as though sailing down fast-flowing river rapids. The oars were raised and men shouted in relief. Talon shot a glance back at the other vessel and gasped as it lurched through the opening. He saw that the captain had managed to bring his own oars to bear and thus ensured that his ship stayed precisely behind them and was therefore safe from the rocks. Both ships lurched into the choppy but much calmer waters of the outer harbor of the city of Abydos.

  Men all around them were screaming with relief, crossing themselves and calling Hail Marys, raising their hands to the darkened, gray heavens above with unrestrained joy.Talon danced over the cables and pounded Henry on the back. Henry had tears in his eyes as he too crossed himself.

  “I did not think we would make it through, but we did! I shall burn candles to all the saints by the bushel when we get back to the city!” he shouted as he and Max pounded one another and the equally relieved steersmen on their backs.

  They were not done, however; there was still the task of finding good anchorage, and then they would have to deal with the Arab ship now in their possession. Talon wanted more than anything to board the other vessel and make sure of that.

  Henry asked one more thing from the rowers, and that was to take them to the inner harbor. It was laborious work, as the dead weight of the other vessel held them back and Henry was loath to put too much sail on the booms as the wind was as fierce as ever. Yet the rain was easing, and they could now clearly see the curious people on the walls above them. After almost half an hour of hard work they were finally abreast of the fortifications, and Giorgios was calling up to the officers. The officers sent messengers running off, and the signal came to allow them into the calm of the inner harbor.

  “You can anchor in that space near to the wall and that jetty,” an armored figure shouted down to them.

  The inner harbor was full of shipping, most of them refugees from the storm. Large cargo ships bumped alongside galleys from Pisa and Genoa. And there were indeed three warships in the harbor, including a Chelandios dromon, a much larger ship than the Falcon that could transport horses, as well as two small fast Galleas dromons the same size as the Falcon, battened down and riding up against their moorings.

  Talon breathed a sigh of relief when he saw those ships. He wanted to talk to their commanders as soon as possible. But first they had to ensure that the Arab vessel could be salvaged. He waited impatiently as Henry, with Guy and Nigel assisting him, took The Falcon to the designated location and dropped anchor.

  Tired though he was, Talon and Max, with Giorgios, some archers, and some well armed sailors, dropped into the lowered boat and were rowed across the short gap to the side of the Arab galley. Despite the strong wind, the stink of the ship made them wrinkle their noses in disgust. Two of the men had been galley slaves and muttered angrily.

  “Do nothing without my orders,” Talon said sharply.

  Max reinforced the command. “Stay near and say nothing. This is Talon’s work, men.”

  They clambered onto the deck of the ship, to be met by the young man who had stared across at Talon earlier in the afternoon.

  On closer inspection he looked exhausted, with large hollows under his eyes and a pinched look around his mouth, and there was blood on the sleeve of his fine but soaked tunic. He stepped toward Talon with his sword still in its scabbard and presented it hilt first.

  “I am Aarif Mejid, the second officer of this ship. I surrender the ship into your charge.”

  He was attempting to speak Greek, so Talon immediately said, “Salaam Aliekom. Peace be with you, Aarif Mejid. We can speak Arabic, as I am familiar with it.”

  The young man’s dark features expressed surprise as he regarded Talon from dark deep-set eyes.

  “Aliekom Salaam, Sir. You speak our language just like an Egyptian! My compliments. Alas, my captain is dead from his wounds and cannot pay his respects to you. I am the sole officer left, so it is my unpleasant duty to surrender the ship to you. May I enquire as to your name?” he said as Talon took the sword from him.

  Talon wondered if it had been the captain he had killed with his arrow earlier but deemed it senseless to go into that now.

  “I am Sir Talon de Gilles, Knight of the Templars. This is my Sergeant, Max Bauersdorf.” He indicated Max nearby, dressed in his soaked Templar uniform. “I regret the death of your captain, Aarif. I shall try to help you with the authorities that will be here quite soon. Your crew I cannot do much for, but perhaps we can arrange a ransom for you?”

  Aarif looked relieved. “You are Templars? I thought you were Greeks.” He shrugged. “God’s will. My life is in your hands, Sir Talon.”

  “I need your word that you will not try to escape while we are here on this ship.”

  It was ver
y clear that should he try, Aarif would not get very far. He glanced around, then shrugged. “I give my word. Will you see to my wounded?”

  “I shall talk to the authorities and ask for a physician to visit them.”

  Talon asked Max to take Aarif down to the cabin, place a guard at the door, and to stay with him until the business of dealing with the remaining crew and wounded men was completed. He took Max aside just before they left.

  “See what you can glean from him, Max, why they were where they were and their ultimate destination. We might have to move quickly and I need to know.”

  Max nodded without saying anything and escorted their prisoner below.

  Talon remained on deck with Giorgios, waiting for the local authorities to arrive. He glanced down at the sword, then eased it half way out of its jewel encrusted, gold inlaid scabbard. It was a magnificent blade, slightly curved along its slim length, made of very fine Damascus steel. He decided to keep it. Aarif Mejid did not sound as though he was from Egypt, so perhaps he was from Syria. One way or the other, there might be a good ransom to be had.

  *****

  It was only a matter of time before a boatload of Greek soldiers with an officer in charge bumped alongside the captured ship and clambered aboard. The young Greek officer, splendidly dressed in an expensive tunic and decorated breast plate, with a jewel encrusted belt and scabbard, glanced around the wreckage and then at the small cluster of Arabs standing disconsolately next to the stump of the main mast, surrounded by Franks holding pikes.

  He introduced himself as Leontios, and a Komes.

  Giorgios explained in a low tone for Talon’s benefit, “This means he is in charge of about three hundred men…”

  Leontios sounded not a little pompous and stared about him in a proprietary fashion, almost ignoring the people standing before him.

  Talon asked in Greek, his tone curt. “My name is Sir Talon de Gilles, Knight of the Templars. Do you know an officer named Nikoporus?”

  “Indeed I do. We have played tzykanion together before, until I was sent to this shit hole. Where are you from and how do you know him?” The young man was curious now.

  Talon laughed and said, “I too have played tzykanion with him, and on his side, fortunately for me. But we have important news that concerns not only this ship but also a great danger approaching this city.”

  The whole attitude of Leontios changed in an instant. He gave a short but polite bow to Talon and exclaimed, “Niko is a great player! If you played on his side then you must also be a good player. He is somewhat particular in that regard! I apologize, Sir Talon. I had not realized you knew him. Now what is this about danger to this city?”

  In a few short sentences Talon explained the circumstances of their arrival and described the fleet lurking out in the delta of the Hellespont. He made it clear he did not know its whereabouts due to the storm but suspected that it was not far behind. Giorgios confirmed Talon’s story to make sure there was no misunderstanding.

  Immediately Leontios was all business, his eyes wide with concern. “This is very serious, and I must inform my commander. We watched what was going on out there at sea. In spite of the rain we could see much from the towers, and it looked insane; I dare say you will fill in the details. I would like to deal with them now,” he indicated the prisoners, “and then you should accompany me to the garrison commander. He will want to know this information as soon as possible. I shall also send messengers to the ships’ captains and ask them to be present.”

  He indicated the prisoners again. “Is this all that is left of the crew?”

  “No, there are the galley slaves, but I want to talk to them first and see who are from my people. I will keep them.”

  Leontios looked uncertain for a moment, but the other news was so serious that he did not press the point and claim them as prisoners too. Talon breathed an inward sigh of relief. He would need a crew.

  “Do what you have to do, Sir Talon, but as soon as you are done please report to the tower over there, he pointed, “and you will be escorted to the palace of the garrison commander, Meletios, our Phalangarches in charge of the city. I shall leave an escort for you at the tower.”

  Giorgios informed Talon that a Phalangarches was in charge of about three thousand troops. This gave Talon some pause, as the flotilla approaching them surely carried far more men than that.

  Leontios saluted then took his leave, and soon the heavily guarded prisoners were being ferried off in boats. Their wails of fear and grief were muted by the wind, which picked up again, and once more the rain began to pour down. Talon and Giorgios pulled their cloaks about them in a vain attempt to keep dry.

  Talon, accompanied by Giorgios, walked down into the gloom of the middle deck. The stench of the galley almost made him gag, reminding him of the time he had found Henry and his companions. He also heard the ominous slap of water and realized that the boat was at a danger point. Unless they could bale it out in time it would sink, taking all in it. He was greeted by shouts and wails from the men chained to the benches in front of him. They shook their chains and screamed for release. As there was no light he could only just see the ragged scarecrows seated immediately in front of him. The filth that floated on the greasy, foul smelling water was almost enough to make him hesitate but he knew he had to reassure them.

  He called out in French, “Is there anyone here who is a Frank, Norman?”

  Immediately there were hoarse yells and calls from the darkness. He listened carefully and decided that the vast majority on this boat were most likely prisoners from ships making their way to and from the Holy Land, hence there would be sailors and pilgrims mixed together, along with some criminals sentenced to the benches from the Arab world.

  Regardless of their circumstances they were all desperate and shouted at him, pleading for release. Even now they had no idea what had transpired above them during the battle and the surrender of the ship, but the water sloshing about their ankles and rising was enough to generate great fear.

  Talon looked at them. He decided he needed help. “Wait and be patient. We are here to help you. Do not panic; my men are coming to help you.” He turned to Giorgios, who looked sick.

  “Giorgios, get Guy and Nigel over here at once. Tell them to bring armed men but also hammers to strike the chains. We will be releasing some of these poor souls at the very least.” Giorgios nodded and rushed up the stairs ahead of him.

  *****

  While Nigel, Guy, and their men set about checking the oarsmen to see who was from what country, how they were faring, and to strike their chains, Talon went below to the cabin. He nodded to the guards outside the door and told them to stay there. They grinned in acknowledgement and saluted him.

  He found Max and Aarif seated on some cushions, talking. They looked as though they were comfortable with one another, but Max gave Talon a look that said not much progress yet.

  Talon wanted something to warm him. He felt cold and wet, but there were no spirits here. Apparently alcohol was strictly forbidden on this ship. None of them had slept much in the last twenty-four hours and he was dead tired. He stared at the young man in front of him; his fine sharp features were swarthy; his dark eyes stared back at him with intelligence and interest, while a tinge of defiance remained. Talon noted that his turban was of fine silk and decorated in the front with a silver badge of some design unknown to him. He was an aristocrat, that was for sure, Talon reasoned, and not one to like a stone dungeon, which was where he might now end up.

  “Allah protect you, Sir. Although our fate is unknown, you did risk your lives for us, and I shall not forget that act of courage,” Aarif said as he touched his forehead and then his heart.

  Talon nodded and replied, “We could not leave you to die on the rocks. God protected us all, and besides, we are not so cruel. What of your captain? Is his body still aboard?”

  “I thank you for asking, Sir. He is wrapped in his cloak and placed in the main cabin. Our custom is that a man�
�but I am sure you know this.”

  “I know and will ensure that he is buried as soon as possible. You will write a letter that will be delivered to his family when we are able to do so.”

  Aarif was clearly touched and said, “Allah bless you for your kindness, Sir Talon. This too will be remembered.”

  “I do not understand why there was only one ship,” Talon said. “I would have expected more to chase us.”

  “We thought you were only a merchantman. The officer on the ship sailing next to us told my captain to go ahead and capture you. So we came.”

  “Is your family rich enough to ransom you?” Talon asked. The question was so abrupt that Aarif blinked with surprise.

  “Of course, as long as a message can be delivered which is written by me, they will ransom me.”

  “I need some answers first, Aarif,” Talon said.

  “I will answer what I am able to. In Sha’ Allah.”

  “What you tell me affects whether I turn you over to the authorities here, who will quite possibly torture you for any information, and then throw you into a dungeon along with your crew, where you will rot for years. On the other hand, I can arrange for a message to go to…?”

  “Damascus,” Aarif said. There was a tiny look of fear in his eyes. Talon knew that the man had thought it inevitable and only a matter of months before a ransom could be arranged. He had clearly not expected the alternative.

  “Do you understand what I am saying, my friend?” Talon asked softly. “It is your choice. Others would torture you for the information that I need. I shall not be so crude, but you will never see your home again if you do not tell me why the flotilla was where it was and where it is going.”