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

by Emilio Salgari

  “Did you catch a glimpse of our flag?” the Portuguese asked, ignoring the question as he greeted the captain with a mock salute.

  “The old standard of the Tigers of Mompracem if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Correct. You may not have heard, but the Tigers have declared war on England and the Rajah of Sarawak.”

  “I thought you’d hung up your swords years ago.”

  “We had, my good sir, until your government decided to attack our island.”

  “Well then, what do you want?”

  “We’re going to sink your ship. You have twenty minutes to evacuate your passengers and crew.”

  “This is piracy!”

  “Call it what you wish, it matters not to me,” replied Yanez. “You can either sail off in your launches or go down with your ship, the choice is yours!”

  “Allow me a minute to consult my officers.”

  “You have twenty; once they’ve passed, we’ll open fire on your ship, regardless of who remains aboard. Hurry now, we do not wish to linger.”

  The captain, struggling to keep his cool, summoned his officers, then after a brief discussion ordered the launches put in the water and told the passengers to prepare to disembark.

  “I surrender, we are no match for you,” he said to Yanez. “However, once we’ve landed on Natuna or Bunguran, I’ll wire the Governor of Singapore to inform him of this attack.”

  “I’d expect no less,” replied Yanez. “You have ten minutes left; I’ll allow your passengers and crew to take whatever personal belongings they do not wish to leave behind.”

  “And the ship’s strongbox?”

  “We have no use for it; take it if you need it.”

  In the meantime, the crew had put all the launches in the water, after having supplied them with oars, sails and enough provisions for several days.

  At their captain’s order, the evacuation commenced, women first, followed by the remainder of the passengers. The officers were the last to embark, carrying documents and the ship’s strongbox.

  “England will avenge this act of piracy,” said the captain, deeply moved.

  Yanez saluted without reply.

  Once the ship had been cleared, the sixty Malays climbed aboard, and the King of the Sea’s steam launch quickly drew nearer.

  The coal chutes were opened and the men began to unload the fuel.

  Unfortunately, not much was left, for the steamship’s captain had planned to recoal in Saigon.

  Two hours later the Malays left the ship. The launches manned by the British crew were still in sight.

  “Fire a couple of volleys at her waterline,” commanded Sandokan.

  Two shells smashed through the steamship’s port side, and the waves rushed into her hold. Four minutes later her engines exploded and she disappeared into the depths of the Sonda Sea with a terrible roar. The King of the Sea resumed her voyage, sailing on towards the southwest.

  The next day a British sailboat suffered the same fate after she had surrendered her cargo of dried fish destined for Hainan Island. Other ships were quick to follow and soon a host of steamers, merchantmen and cruisers rested beneath the waves.

  The King of the Sea calmly patrolled the shipping lanes, privateering from the coast of Borneo to the Anaba islands, intercepting ships as they emerged from the Strait of Malacca bound for China and Japan.

  They had already sunk thirty ships when a Bornean prahu they had encountered, informed them that a squadron of warships had been spotted in the waters off Natuna.

  It must have been the squadron from Singapore, sent to hunt down the pirate ship. Sandokan, Yanez, Tremal-Naik and Mister Howard immediately held counsel and decided to leave those waters and head for Sarawak to rendezvous with the Marianna at the mouth of the Sedang River.

  Their old allies the Dyaks should have already begun their insurrection, and, if so, the moment had come to attack the rajah from the sea and make him pay dearly for his part in the conquest of Mompracem.

  The King of the Sea, her coal chutes and part of her hold now filled with coal, set off towards the southeast, Sandokan wanting to determine if the British still held his island.

  He had given the order to advance at maximum speed, and the cruiser devoured mile after mile. For forty-eight hours they sailed toward the Bornean coast, without spotting a single ship, even though they knew a large squadron was scouring those waters ready to fire upon them at first sight.

  Towards sundown on the second day, the King of the Sea arrived within sight of Mompracem, the Tiger of Malaysia’s ancient lair.

  It was with deep emotion that Sandokan and Yanez set eyes on their beloved island, from where for so many years their prahus had made the mighty British Lion tremble.

  Night had fallen by the time they came within sight of the roadstead on its eastern shore. A magnificent moon shone brightly, bathing in silver light the cliff from where the Tiger’s flag had once flown so proudly.

  Not a trace remained of the great hut that had been the home of the two pirate captains. A fort had been erected in its place, most likely defended by a large garrison to deter the last surviving Tigers from recapturing their beloved island. Ramparts and palisades guarded the roadstead.

  Leaning against the stern railing, Sandokan studied the cliff he had called home in silence, his face drawn with pain.

  Standing beside him, Yanez put a hand on his shoulder and said:

  “We’ll retake her one day, little brother.”

  “Yes,” replied the pirate, giving the fort a menacing look. “And on that day we’ll beat them back into the sea without mercy.”

  He turned his eyes toward the waters shimmering in the moonlight.

  “I’ll destroy them all!” he said. “Blood! I want blood!”

  Almost at the same instant several cries thundered from the bow:

  “There! There! Look!”

  Sandokan and Yanez rushed toward the port bulwark as the lookouts raced across the deck:

  “Lanterns!” the Portuguese exclaimed.

  “The very blood I crave!” shouted Sandokan, his ferocity of old welling up inside him.

  Six bright specks, three red, three green, had appeared to the east of them, just above the waterline, not far from the dark peaks of the Romades. Two white specks could also be seen a few metres higher, shining brightly against the night sky.

  “Two steamships,” said Yanez, “coming from Labuan most likely.”

  “Their last voyage,” said Sandokan. “They’ll pay for Mompracem! Give the order to stoke the fires.”

  “What are you planning, Sandokan?” asked the Portuguese, frightened by the sinister light blazing in the formidable man’s eyes.

  “Sink them with all hands.”

  “Sandokan, we’re not pirates! We’re privateers! We don’t know if they’re warships or merchant vessels, we don’t even know if they’re British.”

  Instead of replying, the Tiger of Malaysia summoned the crew to their stations, ordered lights out then had the cruiser set a course towards the two ships.

  By eleven, the King of the Sea was just five hundred metres from the two steamships, which unaware of the tremendous danger threatening them, were sailing side by side, their engines at quarter speed.

  “They appear to be transport vessels,” said Yanez. “Listen, Sandokan.”

  Music emanated from the ships’ waists, a cacophony of drums, trumpets and songs. The soldiers were celebrating, taking advantage of the magnificent evening. A northern breeze carried the sound of festivities onto the King of the Sea’s deck.

  “British soldiers from Labuan returning home,” said Yanez. “Hear that, Sandokan? The same songs we heard in the British camps in India during the siege of Delhi.”

  “Yes, they’re soldiers,” the Tiger of Malaysia replied darkly. “Laughing and talking, unaware of the death looming over them.”

  “Do not speak so, my friend.”

  “Those men, Yanez, could be the very men that forced me fro
m my island. They attacked without cause and slaughtered many of our men. Do we not have the right to seek vengeance?”

  He had drawn himself up to his full height, eyes blazing, his face contorted in anger. The formidable Tiger of Malaysia, the merciless pirate who had reddened those waters with blood for so many years had suddenly reawakened.

  “Let them enjoy these last few moments! Come the dawn, the laughter will die on their lips. They’ve already forgotten my people, the men, women and children slaughtered like animals on the shores of Mompracem. But I’m here now, and I will avenge them!”

  The King of the Sea tacked and followed the two ships in silence, keeping her distance, never drawing closer than a mile.

  Unable to compete with her mighty engines, the transport ships would not escape. At most they could have tacked towards the nearby Romades and attempted to reach the coast, but even that manoeuvre would not have prevented their capture.

  Sandokan, leaning over the bulwark, kept his eyes fixed on them. He appeared calm, yet terrible thoughts of revenge raced through his head.

  “Who would prevent me,” he said at one point, “from sinking them with all hands? Would I not be within my rights? The sea guards her secrets well, no one would ever know!”

  “You won’t do it, Sandokan, it’s not humane,” said Yanez.

  “Humane! A meaningless word in times of war. Were the British humane when they attacked our island and slaughtered our people? We’ve lived in peace with them for years. They drew great benefit from our actions in India, but instead of showing their gratitude to the very men that rid them of the Thugs, the wretches storm our island. No declaration of war, no announcement of hostilities, a night attack, with forces ten times our own to butcher us like wild beasts. And you, Yanez, speak of being humane! If a British squadron were to fall upon us or one of our prahus, do you think they’d spare us or our men? They’d open fire at the sight of us; they’d sink us all without a second thought.”

  “The difference is that we’d be able to defend ourselves, Sandokan, maybe even win, those two ships are no match for our artillery.”

  “That’s true, Señor Yanez,” said a voice from behind them.

  Sandokan swung about and found Darma standing before him.

  “Of course you agree, you…”

  He fell silent, not wanting to allude to the love the young woman bore Sir Moreland.

  “They’ll defend themselves as best they can, Darma,” he said, changing tone.

  “They won’t be able to,” replied the young woman. “There may be five or six hundred young men aboard those two ships that desire nothing more than to return home to their families. You have always been so generous; spare their loved ones such grief.”

  “The Tigers of Mompracem also grieved the night they were forced off their island,” said Sandokan, attempting to control his anger. “Why should I spare the women of England their tears?”

  Sandokan moved away from the bulwark and turned toward the two stern turrets where a pair of large cannons peered from the gun ports. He was about to order his men to open fire, when Darma placed a hand upon his lips.

  “What will your next command be, my generous guardian?” asked the young woman.

  “To begin the slaughter. Those joyous songs will soon give way to cries of pain and death. The sea will welcome those that took my island.”

  “You must not do it,” Darma replied firmly. “What if one day we’re attacked by a squadron and defeated? What would happen to the survivors?”

  “She’s right, Sandokan,” Yanez added gravely. “Don’t forget that we have two young women aboard, my beloved Surama, and Darma, Ada’s daughter, Marianna’s cousin! Make them accomplices to this barbarous act, and you’ve sealed their fate; the British would never spare them.”

  The Tiger of Malaysia crossed his arms, looked at Darma then turned his eyes towards Surama, who was advancing towards them from the bridge.

  Slowly, the terrible light in his eyes began to fade.

  He opened his mouth as if to speak, shook his head, then began to pace back and forth, stopping from time to time to gaze at the ships as they continued on their course, sailing away from the Romades.

  The King of the Sea continued to follow, maintaining her distance. Throughout the night, Sandokan paced the deck in silence.

  As first light spread across the sky, he had the cruiser increase her speed and commanded the gunners to take their stations. Minutes later the King of the Sea drew to within a couple of cable lengths of the two ships. He ordered his flag hoisted and as it caught the wind the gunners fired a warning shot.

  Sharp cries arose from the two transports as their decks filled with terror-stricken soldiers.

  “Lay to and surrender or be sunk,” signalled the King of the Sea.

  The gunners immediately trained cannons on the two ships, ready to fire at the next command.

  Chapter 12

  The Bay of Sarawak

  THEIR LIGHT ARTILLERY barely able to scratch the cruiser’s sides, the two transport ships were quick to obey, lowering their flags in surrender.

  Indescribable confusion reigned over both ships. Believing they were minutes from death, three or four hundred soldiers raced across the decks and gathered about the launches.

  “You have two hours to abandon ship,” signalled the King of the Sea, “After which we’ll open fire!”

  The ships were less than two kilometres from the Romades, small deserted islands surrounded by reefs and sandbanks.

  After a brief counsel, the commanders of the two ships signalled back their surrender and lowered their launches into the water. Desperate to flee, soldiers crowded aboard until the tiny vessels were on the verge of sinking, so great was the fear that their enemy would open fire at any moment.

  Seeing that some of the men had brought their rifles, Sandokan ordered the soldiers to throw them into the water, threatening to sink the launches if they disobeyed.

  As the crews abandoned ship amidst a storm of cries, threats and curses, the King of the Sea slowly circled the two transports, her large guns ready to fire.

  “What are you going to do with them?” asked Yanez.

  “Sink them,” Sandokan replied coldly. “We have no use for them.”

  “Pity we can’t tow them to some harbour!”

  “Where? There isn’t a port in all of Borneo friendly to the last Tigers of Mompracem. Our friends of old all seem to have suddenly developed a fear of the British Lion,” Sandokan said bitterly. “Bah, it matters not, the sea will take them. At least we’ll have two less enemy ships to contend with.”

  “So much needless waste!” said Darma.

  “Such is war,” Sandokan replied dryly. “Yanez, have the men prepare to board those ships. We’ll salvage whatever coal and supplies they have.”

  The launches had already made several trips to the island and the soldiers had set up camp on the nearest shore, ready to take refuge in the forest at the first sign of danger.

  Yanez had sent a quartermaster and twenty-five well-armed men to each transport to oversee the departure and prevent any unpleasant surprises.

  Those vessels were probably well-stocked with ammunition; any one of those soldiers, on either ship, could have easily left a fuse burning in a powder magazine, preferring to destroy the transports before the Tigers could begin their plunder.

  Once the last Englishman had gone, another squad of Malays, under Kammamuri’s command, drew up beside the transports and began the unloading of fuel and ammunition.

  The soldiers looked on anxiously from the nearby beaches, watching the pirates’ every move.

  Sandokan’s men worked feverishly throughout the day, emptying the chutes of their fuel.

  By dusk the King of the Sea had taken on nine hundred tons of coal. The holds of the two transport ships were almost empty and the Malays and Dyaks were exhausted from a long day’s work.

  “And now we sink them,” said Sandokan. “When our time comes, may our
deaths be as swift.”

  Before abandoning the two ships, the Malays had lit several fuses and fastened them to the barrels of gunpowder they had left in the powder magazine.

  Sandokan, Yanez and Tremal-Naik had been leaning against the aft bulwark, calmly watching the action aboard the two transports, casting a glance from time to time at the chronometer on the topgallant bulwark.

  “It won’t be long now,” said Sandokan, turning towards his friends.

  “Just three more minutes.”

  A moment later a formidable roar thundered across the sea, followed within seconds by another no less deafening. Their sides torn open by the explosions, the two ships sank quickly, the soldiers, looking on from the islands’ shores, howling in protest.

  “Such is war,” said Sandokan, smiling sarcastically. “They wanted it? They can live with the consequences! And this is only the beginning!” Then turning towards Yanez, he added, “We’ll head for the Bay of Sarawak, there are sure to be more ships there!”

  The King of the Sea quickly set off from the Romades and headed south. Her coal replenished, she could easily measure herself against the ships the allies had assembled in the waters of Sarawak.

  The mighty cruiser devoured mile after mile, and two days later arrived within sight of Tanjung Datu, sailing past the roadstead where the Marianna sat at anchor. Not spying any ships, she resumed her run towards the southeast, heading for the mouth of the Sedang River.

  Sandokan wanted to make sure his men had completed their mission, arming and raising up his old Dyak allies, who had been instrumental in his battle against James Brooke.

  Forty-eight hours later, the King of the Sea came within sight of Mount Matang, a colossal peak whose verdant slopes tower 2970 feet above the western coast of the large Bay of Sarawak, and the next day her crew spied the mouth of the river that wet the rajah’s capital. Every eye scanned the water, aware that an enemy ship could appear before them at any moment.

  By now the Rajah of Sarawak must have been informed of the mighty cruiser’s sudden appearance and his best ships must have been dispatched to protect the merchantmen setting off for Labuan or Singapore, those vessels being easy prey for the intrepid pirates of Mompracem.