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Authors: Abdulaziz Al-Mahmoud

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BOOK: The Holy Sail
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Hussein's ship followed Lourenço's caravel and forced it into shallow waters. The Portuguese commander's ship ran aground and keeled sharply on its side, losing its ability to move. Mamluk and Indian ships surrounded it and opened cannon fire. A shell hit Lourenço's leg, and as he was screaming in agony, another shell hit him and tore him to pieces. The Mamluks and their Indian comrades boarded the Portuguese ships and put their sailors to the sword.
Only nineteen men survived. They threw themselves into the sea before the other ships rescued them.

After the Muslims learned of Lourenço's demise, they allowed the remainder of the Portuguese ships to leave the port safely. As the battle ended, the Muslims thought this would be the end of the Portuguese presence in the sea. All regions of India that supported the resistance celebrated. News of this resounding victory spread across all ports, and Hussein Pasha was seen as their saviour. People raised Mamluk flags throughout the land to honour the heroes who had managed to deal with the threat.

The Portuguese despaired of their defeat. They barricaded themselves in their
feitorias
, waiting for a miracle. They had been routed far from home, and now had only a few ships left. They started seriously considering the prospect of leaving, if orders from Portugal came for them to retreat.

 

–
 
24
 
–

Bahrain

Jawhar stood outside the farmstead where Bin Rahhal and Halima lived. He spoke to the guard and then put something in his hand, and the guard let him in. He walked through the dimness of the night towards the house, which sat in a quiet corner of the estate. Only a torch in front of the main door of the house provided light in its immediate surrounding, but beyond that everything was cloaked in pitch-black darkness. All Jawhar could hear were the frogs croaking and crickets singing. He was not used to the noises, and felt there was a deliberate attempt to unsettle him that night. He came close to the house and headed to the left side, walking along the fence for a few steps before stopping.

A silhouette appeared from behind the house and moved in his direction. He heard a small whistle that caught his attention, and looked around to make sure no one was following. He then walked in the direction of the whistle; Farah was there, waiting for him.

‘Did you bring anything with you?' Jawhar asked in a hissing voice.

‘Yes.' She lifted a small pouch and waved it in his face. ‘This is the most precious thing I could find.'

‘Is it the dagger you told me about?'

Farah nodded. ‘It's the most valuable item in the whole house. But you must go now.'

The maid saw Jawhar's teeth flicker in the darkness. He was grinning. ‘I'm not going anywhere. I'm coming with you to your room.'

‘Are you crazy?' Farah gasped.

‘Listen to me, Farah. You have given me everything of value that you could find. I will soon be free and we will marry. Why can't I come to your room? I cannot bear being apart from you any more.'

‘You're insane! Nothing is going to happen until you're free and we're married!'

He grabbed her hand and pushed her roughly back through the door she had emerged from. She could not scream as he closed the door behind them.

The insects outside did not stop singing. Moths and all kinds of flying insects continued to dance around the torch, making a whispering-like noise, oblivious to the scorched bug carcasses scattered underneath.

On the following morning, as Emir Nasser entered his palace, he was surprised to see how few merchants were there. Usually, many more would be present in his
majlis
. Spotting Jawhar, he asked him, ‘Where are all the guests? Why did they stop coming?'

Jawhar called out to an Indian merchant sitting not far from them, and asked him to explain the small number of Indians at the emir's court.

The Banyan came and bowed slightly. ‘Things have changed, Your Highness. The sea routes have become too dangerous. The Portuguese have shown their fangs. Before we leave India, we must now go to their trading posts to get the
cartaz
, the permits, and pay duties on the goods we
want to bring with us. Having these trade licences protected us from Portuguese ships, which intercept us from time to time. Recently, they started demanding bribes even after we show them the passes and proof of tax payments. It's just better not to trade because the taxes and bribes we pay to Portugal are more than any profit we can earn. Things are different now, Your Highness. The trade route between us is no longer passable.'

‘Why does India not fight them and get rid of them?'

‘There are great rivalries among Indian kings. They all want to woo the Portuguese, believing they are strong and that they would protect their trade. But this has not happened. In the end, only a few of our kings dared stand up to Portugal, and refused to have Portuguese trading posts in their territories. One such king is Malik Ayaz, who is now at war with the Portuguese.'

After a brief pause, the Banyan continued. ‘A fearsome Egyptian fleet led by Hussein Pasha has arrived in India. I heard that the fleet dropped anchor in Diu before I came here. God knows what happened after that. Things are getting worse with every passing day. The Portuguese traders are mutating into warriors, and the disputes between our kings are sharper than ever before.'

The emir made nervous gestures with his finger. The few guests there understood he wanted them to leave. The
majlis
now empty, Nasser instructed Jawhar to send an urgent message to Sultan Muqrin, asking permission to send a fleet to fight the Portuguese, who had disrupted trade with India. Emir Nasser cautioned that if the situation were to remain unaddressed, then the entire trade of the Jabrid sultanate would be in danger.

Jawhar did not understand the purpose of this message; Emir Nasser was not the kind of man to be concerned by such matters. Jawhar stopped writing, looking at his master and trying to fathom his intentions.

‘Don't stop, Jawhar. This crisis is our only chance to send the shepherd away from the herd!'

The emir let out a jarringly loud laugh. After he calmed down, he resumed dictating to Jawhar. ‘As you know, Great Sultan, I suffer chronic pain in my back that prevents me from travelling and riding my horse. I shall therefore send Bin Rahhal to lead the fleet in my stead. He is the best man for the job.'

After Jawhar finished writing the sentence, he looked mischievously at his master. He finally understood Emir Nasser's motives, and shook his head in surprise at his cunningness.

The emir saw Jawhar looking at him and returned his wicked smile. ‘Did you expect me to leave for India when I am so close to ensnaring her? Come then, seal the letter and send it to the sultan at once!'

Twenty days later, a message came from Sultan Muqrin to Emir Nasser, agreeing to his proposal to send Bin Rahhal to join the Mamluk fleet fighting the Portuguese. The sultan instructed his cousin to give Bin Rahhal all the money, men and military supplies he had access to without delay.

One day, Bin Rahhal sat playing chess with Emir Nasser. The emir's pawns fell one after the other to those of Bin Rahhal, who seemed immersed in the game, deeply thinking and calculating every move, unlike the emir, who seemed preoccupied with something else.

The emir stroked his moustache. ‘You have already won, Bin Rahhal. I'm not in check yet, but you have taken most of my pawns. Anyway, listen, I've got news for you.'

Nasser reached for a parchment by his side and gave Bin Rahhal the sultan's letter. Bin Rahhal read it and immediately concluded that it was Emir Nasser who had suggested that he lead the campaign to India. No one else could have gone to the sultan with a matter like that.

When Bin Rahhal read Sultan Muqrin's orders to Halima, she could no longer stand. She burst into uncontrollable sobbing, her tears soaking Bin Rahhal's shoulder. Bin Rahhal did not tell her that it was Emir Nasser who had nominated him to go to India, and kept it for himself for the time being.

‘Halima, I want you to go back to your father's house in Hormuz as soon as I set off. Don't stay here for too long after I leave. I won't feel comfortable with you here by yourself.'

Halima replied with a quavering voice. ‘But I'm happy here. I can wait for your return—'

‘No, you will not stay here! You will leave straight after me, understood?' he interrupted her.

‘All right, all right, don't be angry. I promise, I will leave straight after you do. But I don't understand the reason for this insistence and urgency.'

‘I will explain everything to you later. But now, you must prepare yourself to leave.'

Her dream of having a quiet, happy life with the husband she loved was shattered. As the days went by, she came to terms with the idea that she would soon be separated from him. She gave Farah money to distribute to the poor, instructing her to ask them to pray for her husband's safe
return. But Farah gave the money to Jawhar, in the hope of collecting enough money to elope with him.

On the day Bin Rahhal was set to depart for India, the port filled with crowds of people, including women, children and the elderly, for their warriors' send-off. Bin Rahhal's ships did not have cannons like the Portuguese ships. They were smaller and were rigged with only two sails. Sultan Muqrin sent with him 200 Ottoman musketeers seconded to him by the sharif of Mecca to help him in his war effort.

Halima and Farah put on their veils and went to bid Bin Rahhal farewell, even if only from a distance. Halima could not bear staying at home and not seeing her beloved husband as he departed. The two women blended in with the others, trying to remain anonymous; Bin Rahhal never would have consented to their presence at the port.

Bin Rahhal was busy ensuring the fleet was well stocked with food, water and armaments. The port was teeming with people who came for various purposes, well-wishers and tearful folk saddened by the departure of their loved ones. Bin Rahhal appeared from time to time amid the crowds. Halima's eyes tirelessly scoured the sea of faces around her looking for him; whenever he emerged she smiled and wiped the tears from her eyes to see him better, and when he disappeared again she let loose the tears she was withholding. Farah was by her side and went through the same emotions as her mistress, helping her find Bin Rahhal each time he vanished.

Ships started departing the port one after the other, until they were all gone. No one was left except the sons, wives, relatives and friends who chose to stay a while longer to catch a last glimpse, scent or wave from their loved ones.

Halima and Farah sat under a palm tree not far from the scene. Emir Nasser also stayed behind, waving his hand in exaggerated grief, with Jawhar by his side; the slave was scanning every direction, looking for the women.

Finally, Jawhar spotted Farah under the palm tree not far from the port. He knew that the woman standing next to her was none other than Halima. ‘The shepherd has left and the herd is here,' he whispered in Emir Nasser's ear, pointing at the two women. ‘I also have a surprise for you, Your Highness. I will show it to you when we are alone in the
majlis
.'

‘What surprise? Come on, tell me!'

‘I will tell you, Your Highness, don't worry. But I expect a gift in return!'

The emir fell silent. Jawhar's request for a reward convinced him to drop the subject; the slave had been talking excessively of freedom and money, Nasser thought to himself.

Halima kept her eyes fixed on Bin Rahhal's flotilla as it disappeared into the distant horizon. Her heart ached at his parting. She was all alone in a land where she knew no one. Her tears flowed down her face and she unconsciously reached for Farah's hand; Farah was crying too. The two women embraced tightly and comforted one another, as though making an unspoken oath never to leave each other. They both had an odd feeling, a feeling of isolation, weakness, defeat and fragility all at once. They felt like life had turned its back on them, had declared war on them, turning their lives upside down. The whole world and its colours had turned a dreary grey; the dreadful darkness left no room for goodness, and hope was removed from its roots.

Emir Nasser, from afar, could not see that the two women were shaking and weeping. His obsession with Halima blinded him from empathising with her pain and with what people felt in general when separated from their loved ones. Nasser did not shift his eyes from Halima. ‘Jawhar, go to her and tell her I will visit her tonight. Tell her anything, but I must see her tonight.'

Jawhar looked at his master in surprise. He was not sure Nasser understood his own words. ‘But she will never agree, master. She is sad for the departure of her husband. You must be a little patient until her sadness abates—'

Nasser interrupted him angrily. ‘Damn you! How long should I wait? I want her as soon as possible. I'm in a hurry. You know when I want a woman I usually get her, and Halima will not be the exception. Do you hear?'

Jawhar knew that his freedom and his future depended on satisfying his master by any means possible. Halima might be the last woman he would bring for his master, because after he got his freedom and the money he was promised, he would leave him and depart for another country. ‘Give me some time, Your Highness. I will do what I can to help you get her. My surprise will help you get what you want quietly and without a fuss. You just need to be patient.'

He looked at his master out of the corner of his eyes. ‘But don't forget what you promised me, Your Highness. Freedom . . . and money.'

Emir Nasser scanned the horizon to make sure Bin Rahhal's ships were gone. Nasser turned his eyes back to the place where Halima was. She was still there, sitting on a small rock; she felt so weak from sorrow that her knees
and legs were no longer able to support her. Farah stood by her side. ‘Let us go and speak to her. She is at her most vulnerable now,' he told Jawhar.

BOOK: The Holy Sail
3.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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