Sandokan: The King of the Sea (The Sandokan Series Book 5)

by Emilio Salgari

  “We’re on the verge of blowing as it is, Mr. de Gomera. The boilers won’t take any more.”

  Clouds of white smoke rose over the waters off Mompracem, bright in the moonlight. The volleys grew louder, thundering incessantly as the battle raged to new heights. Flashes of artillery fire soon lit the waves before them, the combatants taking form among those deadly bursts of light.

  “Our prahus!” howled Yanez, lowering his binoculars. “The Tiger of Malaysia is retreating. Wretches! The British have beaten us once again!”

  The American tore the binoculars from his hand.

  “Yes, prahus,” then added, “and they’re being shelled by a fleet of gunboats. They’re sailing north.”

  “Gunboats!” shouted Yanez. “Prepare to fire a broadside! Destroy those ships!”

  The Nebraska advanced at full speed, ignoring the hail of artillery as she raced to get between the prahus and the steamships.

  Outgunned and outnumbered, the Tigers of Mompracem were attempting to escape. Sandokan’s ship, the Marianna, covered the rear, smoking like a volcano, her chasers matching the small steamers volley for volley.

  “The party appears to be in full swing,” said the American. “Gentlemen! Fire at will!”

  Chapter 16

  The Declaration of War

  THOUGH RETREATING, THE Tiger of Malaysia’s forces continued to fight on, the Marianna’ s four chasers and the prahus’ large swivel guns firing relentlessly.

  Eight ships had managed to escape from Mompracem, but of them only Sandokan’s, which was slightly larger than the ship Yanez had sailed up the Kabatuan, was capable of holding her own for any length of time. The other vessels, though manned by large crews, were common Malay ships that had been modified for battle. Each ship had been equipped with a bridge, their outriggers had been removed, and their bulwarks had been fortified to provide better shelter for their marksmen.

  The enemy squadron was much larger and better armed: two small cruisers flying British colours, four gunboats and a brik about the size of the Marianna. But despite their advantage not a single vessel had dared to board Sandokan’s ships, their guns and cannons barely able to keep pace with the deadly flurry of musketry, grapeshot and cannon blasts incessantly spraying their decks.

  The sudden appearance of that magnificent ship had momentarily brought the battle to a halt, neither side certain of her allegiance, for she flew no flag.

  A loud voice thundered from the ships’ bridge, informing the Tiger and his men that a formidable ally had come to their aid.

  “Hurrah for Sandokan! Hurrah for Mompracem!”

  It was followed by the command:

  “Fire a broadside at the British!”

  The seven large calibre guns lining the American ship’s port side fired simultaneously with a frightening roar that shook the decks and echoed to the bottom of the hold.

  The barrage of shells instantly dismasted one of the small cruisers, the deadly rain tearing through her starboard side and shattering her boilers. Within minutes a hurricane of fire and smoke erupted from the engine room, followed by a formidable blast as crates of ammunition and barrels of gunpowder exploded in unison.

  The ship halted in her tracks and listed on her damaged side, her crew howling with rage as they dove into the water.

  “Well, Mr. de Gomera,” said the American, standing alongside him on the bridge. “What do you think of your artillery?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” replied the Portuguese. “We’ll get between the prahus and the gunboats and give battle. Gunners! Fire starboard cannons! Sink the brik!”

  A second volley followed that command, while the Tigers of Mompracem’s prahus took refuge behind the American ship, their swivel guns thundering as they raced for shelter.

  The brik had moved forward to protect the cruiser with her chasers, the broadside had obliterated her bulwarks, and her mainmast, severed two feet above the deck, crashed across her bow with a horrendous thud, smashing through part of her forecastle and killing half-a-dozen topmen.

  Formidable cries thundered from the decks of the Tiger of Malaysia’s prahus as they fired round after round of grapeshot. That powerful ship had turned the tide; Sandokan’s old standard, a red flag emblazoned with the head of a tiger, now flew proudly from her masthead. The pirates of Mompracem, emboldened by the sight, unleashed all their might as they mercilessly exacted their revenge.

  Unable to withstand the American ship’s powerful artillery, weapons of far greater calibre than had ever been seen in those waters, the gunboats quickly rescued the sailors from the cruiser, tossed a towline to the battered brik then hastily retreated towards Mompracem, sent off by a last volley from the Marianna’s fore chasers and the prahus’ swivel guns.

  As they were racing off, the American ship lowered her ladder and a man quickly rushed up to her deck and embraced the Portuguese.

  He was tall, handsome, well built, with dark bronze skin, dark piercing eyes and thick black wavy hair that fell freely about his shoulders. Though still proud and energetic, a few wrinkles now lined his brow, and his beard had begun to show traces of grey.

  He wore a blue silk jacket embroidered with gold, white trousers, and yellow leather long boots. A magnificent scimitar and two long-barrelled pistols inlaid with silver and mother-of-pearl protruded from the red silk sash about his waist. His white silk turban was adorned with a feather, fixed in place by a diamond the size of a walnut.

  A beautiful young woman, dressed in an Indian sari, followed close behind him.

  “Sandokan! Surama!” exclaimed Yanez, embracing them warmly in turn. “Quickly, tell me all that’s happened!”

  A fierce light flashed in the Tiger’s eyes, his face awash with pain and hatred.

  “They’ve beaten me, Yanez,” he said hoarsely. “The British have taken Mompracem.”

  “Taken Mompracem!”

  “Yes, the second time they’ve forced us from our home!”

  “All is lost?”

  “The dogs destroyed everything. The villages are in flames and all the villagers have been slaughtered; they didn’t even spare the women or children! They were savage, brutal!”

  “But why this sudden attack?”

  Instead of replying, Sandokan turned his gaze upon the ship and her large American crew.

  “Where did you find her?” he asked. “What have you been up to these last few days? Where’s Tremal-Naik? Darma? And the Marianna? Who are these white men who came to the aid of the Tigers of Mompracem?”

  “I haven’t had much luck, little brother, since I set off for the Kabatuan,” replied Yanez. “I’ll give you a full report later, but first, tell me, where were you going just now?”

  “In search of you, then off to find a new home. There are plenty of islands north of Borneo from where I can prepare my revenge,” said Sandokan. “They want war, so be it! We’ll take the battle to the shores of Labuan and Sarawak.”

  Yanez signalled to Commander Brien who was standing only a few paces form them, awaiting orders from the ship’s new owner, then, after having introduced him to Sandokan, asked:

  “Where can we take you and your men, sir?”

  “Labuan if possible, it’ll be easier for me to find passage to Pontianak. With any luck my men will have completed their mission and be waiting for us with some precious information.

  “Mr. de Gomera, the entire engine crew has accepted your offer and will remain at your disposal for as long as you desire, as will two gunners to instruct your Malays in the use of these weapons. The others will come with me. Ah, what I’d give to remain aboard, sir. If business did not call me elsewhere, I’d gladly fight alongside you. I’d wager you’re about to unleash quite a campaign against your enemies.”

  “Yes, a campaign they’ll long remember. Set a course for Labuan, Commander. Seven knots should do, our prahus can easily match that speed provided this wind holds,” said Yanez.

  He took Surama and Sandokan by the arm, led them toward the s
tern, and went below deck just as the gunboats, the brik and the cruiser disappeared into the fog on the horizon.

  “Tell me what happened on Mompracem,” said Yanez, as he uncorked a bottle of whiskey and fixed a smile upon Surama. “Why did they attack you? Kammamuri informed me that the Governor of Labuan threatened to take our island.”

  “Yes, he claimed we were a bad influence, that we encouraged Bornean pirates and put his colony in danger,” replied Sandokan. “I never imagined he would have resorted to such extremes, considering all we’d done for England in ridding India of the Thugs. But then four days ago a British emissary delivered an order demanding we leave our island within forty-eight hours, threatening to use force if we did not comply.

  “I wrote to the governor that the Tiger of Malaysia had lived on the island for over twenty years; it was legally mine and I would defend her to the last; then last night, without any declaration of war, we were attacked by that squadron, while another, comprised of small ships, disembarked four companies of sepoys with four batteries of artillery on the west coast.”

  “Scoundrels!” Yanez exclaimed indignantly. “After all this time, they still think of us as pirates!”

  “Worse, like cannibals,” said Sandokan, his voice trembling. “At midnight the villages were attacked and torched, the villagers slaughtered with unrivalled ferocity, while the squadron opened fire against our trenches in the small bay, destroying most of our prahus.

  “Though caught between the ships’ cannons and the sepoys’ batteries, we resisted until dawn, fending off more than fourteen attacks; but as defeat became imminent, I ordered what remained of our men aboard our ships, loaded our cannons and blasted a path through the cruisers and gunboats, just narrowly escaping.”

  “What’s your plan now?”

  The Tiger of Malaysia’s face grew dark.

  “What am I going to do?” he howled angrily. “Twenty years ago my name alone made all of Labuan tremble, and now I’ll spread terror on her shores once again. I’ll declare war on England and Sarawak.”

  “What about Suyodhana’s son?”

  Sandokan started.

  “What?” he exclaimed.

  “Surprised? As was I. Yes, the Tiger of India had a son! And he’s been behind everything that’s happened to us: the Dyak uprising, the attack on Mompracem. He’s moved Labuan and Sarawak against us.”

  Sandokan had fallen silent, stunned by that unexpected revelation.

  “The Tiger of India had a son!” he exclaimed finally.

  “He’s clever and determined to avenge his father’s death,” added Yanez. “We’ve already lost our island, Tremal-Naik’s farms have been destroyed and our good friend and his daughter are in his hands.”

  “They took them from you!” howled Sandokan.

  “After a terrible battle that would have ended with our deaths if not for the providential arrival of this ship.”

  Sandokan had begun to pace about the room like a caged beast, a deep frown upon his brow, his arms folded across his chest.

  “Tell me everything,” he said at one point as he halted before the Portuguese and drained a glass of whiskey.

  Yanez quickly recounted all the adventures that had befallen him since he had left Mompracem.

  Sandokan listened in silence, not uttering a word.

  “Ah! So this is our ship?” he said, when Yanez had finished. “Very well: we’ll wage war on England, Sarawak, Suyodhana’s son, and anyone else that dares to measure themselves against us!”

  “What about our prahus? They won’t be able to keep up with this ship. Should we sink them?”

  “We’ll send them to the Bay of Ambong. Our friends there will guard them until our return. The Marianna will suffice.”

  “She’ll follow us?”

  “We may have need of her later.”

  They left the cabin and went back up on deck where Kammamuri and Sambigliong awaited them.

  The ship was sailing towards the east, the Marianna and the eight prahus following close behind.

  The dim outline of Labuan had appeared off in the distance, gilded by the last rays of the setting sun.

  At nine that evening the cruiser came to a halt a half-mile from the coast near the spot where Yanez had sent his spies ashore. All lanterns had been doused so as not to draw the attention of the British gunboats patrolling the waters about the island. They would wait there until dawn or until the signal came from their men.

  Four hours had passed, when a green flare shot up over the rocks. Yanez, Sandokan, the American and the young Indian woman who had been chatting on the bridge, immediately stood up.

  “They’re already back!” exclaimed the commander. “I knew they wouldn’t have wasted any time!”

  At his command a crewman fired a red flare; the two Americans immediately replied with one of the same colour.

  A short while later a thin dark line pulled away from the rocks, a shimmering wake stretching out behind it. The waters, teeming with noctilucas, sparkled with every stroke of the oars, the tiny swarm of creatures glowing like a river of molten gold.

  Yanez ordered the ladder lowered.

  Ten minutes later the boat drew up to the large ship and the two Americans quickly climbed aboard.

  “Well?” Yanez and the commander asked anxiously.

  “Great news, gentlemen,” replied one of the two.

  “Quickly, tell us everything, Tom,” said Brien. “Did you find out where they’ve taken those people?”

  “Yes, Commander. I learned it from a fellow American that served aboard the steam launch,” he said.

  “The launch stopped in Labuan?” asked the Portuguese.

  “Just to recoal and disembark our friend; he’d been wounded in battle, a ball had broken his arm,” the man replied. “He told me that an Indian and a young woman were aboard.”

  “Where were they taken?”

  “Rejang. They’re to be held at Fort McRae.”

  “Sarawak!” exclaimed Sandokan. “So it was the rajah who had them kidnapped?”

  “No, sir. The order was given by a man calling himself the King of the Sea, a mysterious figure who appears to enjoy the support of the rajah and the Governor of Labuan.”

  “The King of the Sea... did you learn anything else about him?” asked Yanez.

  “Afraid not, sir,” replied the crewman. “That’s all my friend knew.”

  “That must be Suyodhana’s son,” said Sandokan after a brief silence.

  He turned towards the commander.

  “Do you still want to disembark here?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

  “What about the authorities? They may try to arrest you for having aided us.”

  “No one knows I was in command of this ship, sir, and besides, I’m an American citizen; the British wouldn’t dare trouble me. I’ll invent a tale to explain my presence on Labuan: a shipwreck, a Sulu pirate attack or some such yarn. No need to worry about me.”

  “May I give you a letter addressed to the Governor of Labuan? You could mail it at the post office in Victoria.”

  “With pleasure, sir. I’d be more than happy to assist you in any way I can.”

  “You may not, once you learn its contents. You’ll be sending off a declaration of war.”

  “I thought as much,” replied the American. “Rest assured sir, it’ll be our little secret.”

  “Yanez,” said Sandokan, turning to his friend, “Have someone retrieve the chest from my cabin aboard the Marianna, take out a thousand pounds and distribute it among the American crew, then have the launches prepared so they can be taken ashore. I’m going below for a moment to write the letter to the governor.”

  When he returned above, he found the entire American crew gathered upon the deck. At the sight of him a thunderous cry rose from their lips:

  “Hurrah for the Tiger of Malaysia! Hipp! Hipp! Hurrah!”

  Sandokan gestured for silence, then once the commanders of
the prahus and the majority of his Tigers had climbed aboard the ship, he unfolded the letter and read aloud:

  Sandokan, the Tiger of Malaysia, former Prince of Kini-Balu, and Yanez de Gomera, rightful owners of the Island of Mompracem, inform the Governor of Labuan that as of this day they declare war upon England, the Rajah of Sarawak and the man who offers them protection.

  From aboard the King of the Sea, May 24th, 1868

  SANDOKAN and YANEZ DE GOMERA

  A terrible savage cry erupted like a hurricane from the chests of the terrible Tigers of Mompracem.

  “Long live the Tiger! Death to the Red Coats!”

  “Sir,” said the American commander, turning to address Sandokan, “I hope you teach John Bull a hard lesson. I guarantee this ship will surpass your expectations in power and speed; you won’t find her equal anywhere in these waters. But before I go, allow me to give you one last piece of advice.”

  “By all means,” said Sandokan.

  “Have the Marianna set sail for Brunei immediately to purchase as much coal as she can carry. Once you declare war, the Sultan and the Dutch will most likely try to remain neutral and close their harbours to you. Best you stock up now, the five hundred tons stored below will only last about a month, you wouldn’t want to find yourself short of fuel in the midst of battle.”

  “An excellent suggestion, I’ll arrange to meet the Marianna in the Bay of Sarawak.”

  “You won’t regret it, sir. And use your sails as often as you can. Coal may soon become more precious to you than powder.”

  “If things become desperate, we’ll go ransack a few British coaling stations. There are many scattered throughout these islands,” replied Sandokan.

  “And now, gentlemen, good luck,” said the American, energetically shaking hands with the two legendary pirates of Mompracem.

  He put the letter in his pocket and climbed down the ladder. His crew had already settled aboard the launches manned by the pirates.

  The squadron immediately rowed off, after one last deafening hurrah. Half an hour later, the launches had put the Americans ashore on Labuan and were making their way back.