The Holy Sail (18 page)

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Authors: Abdulaziz Al-Mahmoud

BOOK: The Holy Sail
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The pasha took another sip of water then continued. ‘Your Highness, I want you to provide me with a guide who is familiar with the route to India. This is the first time our ships will be sailing to those parts. We are not very familiar with the route and its dangers.'

The emir raised both hands. ‘Most certainly, Hussein Pasha. You are among your people now. We will give you everything you need to ensure your mission will be a success. As you can see, your presence here has brought joy and relief, rare sentiments these days. Consider all your wishes granted. You need only to ask.'

The emir, in an attempt to reassure Hussein further, added, ‘Our ships travel often to India and China. We have skilled sailors and seasoned merchants who have settled in Java and the city of Zaitoun in China and other eastern cities. We have lost contact with them as the maritime routes have been cut off by the Portuguese. We live on trade in this city, Hussein Pasha, and if trade collapses, we collapse.'

Hussein Pasha did not understand what the emir meant. ‘Where are those cities? Are they close to India?'

‘No, they are very far east. You would need six months to get there. Zaitoun is almost at the far end of the world, and there is nothing beyond it except the magical land of Waq-Waq. What is strange is that Zaitoun, the city of olives, has no olives, and its people do not even know what olives are.'

‘Then why is it called Zaitoun?' Hussein asked in astonishment.

‘I think the Arab merchants gave it that name and it just stuck. The Chinese call it by another name, Guangzhou.'

The conversation between the two men went on for some time, branching into other matters, until food was served. Trays carrying meat and bread were distributed among the guests. The smell of barbecued food wafted through the hall. People gathered outside the castle and food was distributed among them too. No belly was left empty that day.

Suddenly, without warning, a Mamluk sailor cried, ‘Long live Sultan al-Ghawri! May God grant him victory over his enemies!'

Anger flared among the Yemenis, who could not understand how the Mamluk sailor had the gall to pray for the Mamluk sultan when he was eating food provided by the sultan of Yemen. Some Yemeni soldiers tried to silence him, while others cried back, ‘Long live the sultan of Yemen! It is he whom we must thank!'

Angry voices rose on both sides. It seemed that a crisis was about to break out, but Emir Murjan was able to contain it. He did not lose his smile throughout, though he could not hide his annoyance completely. Suddenly, Hussein Pasha cried vociferously in support of Sultan al-Ghawri, praying for victory for him against his enemies as well. Emir Murjan was taken aback by Hussein's behaviour. To him, it was not acceptable for anyone to eat his sultan's food and yet pray for another. Murjan wondered silently why Hussein had acted in this manner, and whether it was all a message meant for the emir.

Murjan decided not to speak his mind. He did not understand what had happened but seemed ready to accept any explanation that might be given to him.

After the food was cleared, a servant came carrying a large pot that gave off a strange, pleasant smell. He poured from the pot a black liquid in cups that he offered to all the guests present. The guests raised the cups to their noses and took a whiff of the drink, trying to identify it. For their part, the Yemenis sipped the drink slowly, enjoying its taste and smell, as they chatted with one another.

Hussein asked his host about the drink. Murjan replied, ‘We call it coffee. Have you not tasted it before? Go on, try it.'

Hussein brought his cup close to his mouth and took a small nip. His face changed, his lips contracted and he frowned as though he had tasted something foul.

Emir Murjan laughed out loud. He then explained to his guest the characteristics of the drink, how its ingredients were extracted and how it was prepared. ‘You will come to like it, Hussein Pasha. You just have to get used to it.'

In the evening, Hussein left his hosts and returned to his ship. He declined the emir's invitation to spend the night at his palace, preferring to be with his men. The small boats bringing supplies from the shore to the ships continued to shuttle back and forth throughout the night. The city's gates were open now, and celebrations in the port continued until the early hours of the morning.

The emir remained in his
majlis
that night too, celebrating with the people. Delegations of well-wishers came one after the other, until the receptions wound down and the
majlis
was finally empty. At that moment, one of those
present approached the emir and asked to speak to him in private.

‘What's the matter?' the emir asked. ‘I noticed you were silent all day like you had something on your mind.'

‘Yes, Your Highness. I have been waiting for everyone to leave to share my thoughts with you.'

After looking around to make sure no one else was listening, he continued, ‘Your Highness, you have allowed the Mamluk fleet to dock at the port of Aden and celebrated its arrival. You have re-supplied it from the sultan's warehouses, and you will send with the Mamluk ships a guide to show them the route to India. However, allow me to remind you of what Hussein Pasha did in Jeddah. He enslaved its people and forced them to build its wall, and confiscated the possessions of the city's merchants.'

He paused for a moment to see what effect his revelations had on the emir, and then continued. ‘I'm afraid he may try to control Aden and do the same things here.'

He felt that he now had the emir's full attention. ‘My opinion, Your Highness, is that we should give their ships enough supplies to reach India but not make any other commitments. We must get rid of them as soon as possible, because if they overpower us, we will become their servants. They could take our money, or, at the very least, they could force us to pay tax to Sultan al-Ghawri!'

The emir recalled what Hussein had done at dinner. ‘Why did you not alert me to this before they got here?'

‘I had heard you give orders to honour them, show them hospitality and celebrate their arrival. I did not want to spoil that for you with my suspicions. But I believe it is not yet too
late, and that you can still deal with the matter prudently. We just want them to leave as quickly as possible.'

‘But what about the Portuguese?' the emir asked. ‘What if they appear on our shores? Who will fight them if not the Mamluks?'

The man grinned, as though he had been anticipating this question. ‘I heard what Hussein Pasha said, Your Highness. He said that he had orders to fight the Portuguese at sea, that he was going to India for this purpose.' He paused briefly. ‘Let him do that, but not in our waters. Let him fight them there. The battles will weaken both sides, and our port, ships and money would be spared if neither Hussein Pasha occupies our land nor the Portuguese destroy our ships.'

After he uttered this sentence, he set his gaze on the emir, trying to divine what impact his words would have on him.

The emir remained silent. His eyes glistened and he started fiddling with the edge of the carpet. He finally said, ‘I think you are right. Do not open the port for their ships if they return!'

 

–
 
15
 
–

The Arabian Gulf

The wind was still, forcing the sailors to use oars to push their boats out of Salwa Bay and into the open sea, where the wind was more favourable. Once they detected an air stream, they lifted the oars. The ships proceeded north to circumnavigate the Qatar Peninsula en route to Julfar.

The Arabian flotilla did not remain anchored for long in Julfar. There were clear orders given to the men to stay on the ships. The ships were re-supplied quickly. Thirty more ships joined the fleet along with 600 men, and within two days the ships set off to Hormuz.

Salghur stood near the bow of the command ship, holding on to the mast and looking in the direction of the ship's sailing path. He filled his lungs with fresh sea air, which he had long missed. None of the sailors on the ship knew this man to whom Bin Rahhal showed great respect, why he was the first to be served with food and water, and why his companions made sure all his requests were granted. But the sailors were not the inquisitive type, and did not ask about or care to find out his identity, though they did gossip about him after dark when they knew no one was listening.

Two days later, Bin Rahhal felt they were about to reach the eastern coast of Jesm island. It was night time, and he decided to meet with Salghur. He lit a lamp and laid out
a map of the Gulf containing the locations of the islands there and an approximate layout of the port of Hormuz.

Bin Rahhal laughed and said, ‘Soon I won't be the only one to address you as “Your Majesty”, because in a few hours, you will officially be king again.'

Salghur replied with a smile. ‘I am very eager to hear that title again. I would have forgotten it had you not reminded me from time to time.' His face assumed a more serious expression, as he glanced at the map in front of him. ‘Let me brief you on some things you need to know before we get to Hormuz. The port is guarded by about 2,000 guards, including 500 Persian archers. Their job is to protect the two ports day and night. Around forty oared galleys are stationed in the eastern port and can move even when the wind is calm. The western port is for smaller ships that sail within the Gulf or to Hormuz's possessions in Oman.'

Salghur lifted his gaze and looked in Bin Rahhal's eyes before continuing. ‘There is a lighthouse at the northernmost point of the island. Soldiers light a fire at the top of the structure after sundown. The fire is not put out until sunrise the following morning. It illuminates a large area around the two ports and guides ships into harbour. We must be very careful not to be spotted by its light at night.

‘There are around 3,000 fighters stationed around the island, some guarding the water reservoirs in the south, some guarding the king's palace, and others deployed along the coast opposite the Persian mainland near the lighthouse. These men are loyal to the king no matter who the king is. They will keep fighting until they feel the king is defeated, and then they will serve the new king. The element of surprise is our best weapon. We are greatly
outnumbered, but they are far from the king's palace, which could give us an advantage.'

Salghur's face gleamed in the torchlight. There was tension in his voice and sweat glistened on his forehead. For him, these were crucial moments that could either put him back on the throne or sentence him to death after his eyes had been gouged out – the favourite punishment exacted by the kings of Hormuz against their rivals.

Bin Rahhal read it all in Salghur's face and tone. He summoned his commanders from the other ships, and moments later the ships converged and the commanders jumped into Bin Rahhal's boat. He was waiting for them while sipping the date juice he so loved.

They all gathered around the map laid on the deck floor. Bin Rahhal looked them in the eyes one by one to make sure he had their full attention before he spoke. ‘Listen to my every word. The hours ahead will be decisive. We will make our landing at dawn tomorrow. Until then, I want our ships to stick together as closely as possible so we can make a quick, combined and synchronised landing. I don't want to see any fires lit after sunset tomorrow.

‘The crescent will appear tomorrow night. When the moon is midway in the sky, we will go to the beach and break up into two parties. The ships that came from Salwa will go to the eastern port. Those that came from Julfar will go to the western port. As soon as the ships reach their targets, we will disembark and seize the ports. I will choose one hundred fighters whose mission it will be to storm the palace. We expect resistance from the palace guards, so this group will hold them off until reinforcements arrive from the ports.'

He looked at the faces of his commanders again to make sure they were listening, and then resumed, ‘The group that will take the eastern port must put out the lighthouse beacon to prevent any other ships from docking, until we are fully in control of the island.' Bin Rahhal grabbed his sword to drive his point home. ‘Kill anyone who resists you. You must be quick. We won't have much time. The element of surprise will be our only weapon, but without haste there will be no surprise.'

On the following day, ghostly shapes appeared on the horizon far from the island, approaching ominously. No one saw the ships, and no one was expecting them. Before dawn, they moved stealthily towards their targets until they reached the harbour.

One guard finally spotted them, appearing to him like beasts that had just surfaced from the depths of the sea. ‘It's a raid! It's a raid! To arms!'

The ships rammed the wharf with great force. The soldiers jumped off shouting battle cries but resistance was not as fierce as they had expected. Everyone, including the guards, had been asleep. Those who did try to resist were soon silenced by piercing spears thrust at them from the darkness.

Bin Rahhal's men ran in all directions. They put out the fire at the lighthouse, plunging the two ports into pitch darkness. As the fighting moved into the main gate of the king's palace, people started to wake up as if from a dream; all Hormuzis felt something strange was afoot. Some came out into the streets in their sleeping clothes trying to find out what was going on. They heard sporadic screams from different directions in the city. When they
noticed there was no fire lit at the lighthouse, they decided the problem must have something to do with the port; they lost interest and many returned to bed.

The fighting between the attackers and the defenders in front of the palace gate grew fiercer. Reinforcements came quickly for both sides as the battle intensified. People heard the fighting and saw the fires the attackers had started at the main gate of the palace. Rumours spread like wildfire: some thought the Safavids were invading the city, some thought the king's brothers were staging a coup against him. Many people decided on account of these rumours to barricade themselves and their families into their homes, take their swords out and sit waiting for the dust to settle.

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