Read The Holy Sail Online

Authors: Abdulaziz Al-Mahmoud

The Holy Sail (32 page)

She sat on the floor and slapped her head mournfully, as though she had lost a close relative.

Jawhar made up excuses for his actions. ‘I was bargaining with Emir Nasser over the dagger, Farah. I expected him to agree to give me my freedom in return for it.'

Farah did not hear what this fiend was saying. She seemed to be in a catatonic-like state now. Her hands moved in a mechanical way as she slapped herself on the head. She began to sob and begged Jawhar to convince the emir to desist. Still kneeling on the ground, she grabbed him by the hem of his robes. Tears rolled heavily down her cheeks. ‘Bin Rahhal could be dead and then she would be free to marry him. Halima does not deserve all these calamities. She is all alone in a strange country. She knows nothing about her husband. You have to give her time to mourn Bin Rahhal. What you're doing to her is not fair, do you hear me, you horrid man?'

Jawhar pulled his robes away from Farah's hands. ‘There's nothing I can do. You have to convince her to surrender to the emir. There's no other way. And you're the only one who can do it.'

He glanced at Farah again. She was still kneeling, tears streaming down to the ground beneath her. ‘Think about it, Farah. What would happen if the emir shows the dagger to people and tells them he slept with Halima, and that she gave him Sultan Muqrin's dagger as a gift? Who would dare doubt him and who would believe her? Even Sultan Muqrin will accept what Emir Nasser says as true. There's
no other solution, Farah, so let us be done with this as soon as possible.'

Jawhar paused, as though preparing Farah for what he was going to say next. ‘She is not the only woman to succumb to the emir. There are hundreds of them, and everyone knows it. Tell her she isn't the first and she won't be the last. Perhaps that will make it easier for her.'

Farah lifted her head and looked at Jawhar with angry tearful eyes, and clenched her jaw. ‘You're a despicable human being. You used me to get her, you scoundrel. Your master is as despicable as you are. You are nothing but a pair of marauding, ravening wolves interested in nothing more than satisfying their instincts by blackmailing women and desecrating their honour!'

Farah tilted her head backwards and then spat with force in the direction of Jawhar. The slave's malicious smile returned to his lips. ‘Well, I have delivered the message now, and you must take it to Halima. I will give you a week and not a minute more, Farah. Otherwise, scandal awaits the daughter of the vizier of Hormuz and the wife of Vizier Bin Rahhal.'

Before he left, he delivered a final blow. ‘I forgot to tell you, the Portuguese have raided Hormuz and annihilated everything and everyone there. God alone knows where her father is. She has to understand she is all alone now. Tell her that.'

Then he looked at her askance and left the place. Farah stayed behind, cursing the bad luck that had brought upon her this disastrous situation.

Farah could not see how she would ever be able to take the matter up with Halima. With each passing minute, she
felt like flesh was tearing off her body, that years were being shaved off her life. She knew she had to act quickly before Emir Nasser carried out his threat, but her heart made her reluctant: Halima was her best friend, and she did not know how she would approach her with something like this. She did not know if there would ever be a right time to do it: when Halima looked miserable, she did not want to make her feel worse, and when Halima looked happy, she did not want to ruin it for her.

The whole matter now felt like a gangrenous mass under her skin, or like a painful decaying tooth that had to be removed.

*

One day, Farah finally approached her mistress, moving towards her with hesitant steps.

‘Mistress Halima, I need to talk to you about certain things that you should know.'

Halima smiled. She assumed Farah's problems had to do with the usual servant quarrels, or involved the farmers who looked at her inappropriately whenever she left the home, or perhaps it was about some of the guests who sometimes overstayed their welcome. But then she noticed that Farah's face was different this time and carried a terrifying expression. This was not the face Halima was used to; Farah's appearance had changed markedly, and she was plainly afraid of what she was intending to say. Halima started feeling concerned.

Farah's tears beat her tongue, but she was finally able to speak. ‘In the last few months, Jawhar has spared no occasion to court me. He brought me jewels and gifts until we
became close. I don't know how to describe our relationship, but it was beautiful then. We could talk about everything: our dreams, our future and our ambitions. He told me that when his master set him free, he would marry me, and then we would go and live in Hormuz or India. There, he said, he would trade in spices and I would get my own house with my own servants . . . and we would have children.'

Halima was listening carefully to every word coming out of Farah's mouth, expecting the worst to follow soon.

‘After several months of showering me with gifts, he came to me one day and told me that Emir Nasser wanted a large sum of money in return for his freedom. It was my turn to give him money. First, he took back all the gifts he had given me, and after that, I started giving him my own money. When I ran out of cash, I started looking everywhere for anything of value to help him.'

Farah looked down to the floor for a few seconds, before she gazed back up at Halima. ‘I gave him the dagger in a moment of weakness, the dagger that was in the chest. I gave him Master Bin Rahhal's dagger!'

Blood rushed to Halima's face. She felt the first of many things she did not understand were starting to be revealed. ‘Go on, Farah!'

‘Stealing Sultan Muqrin's dagger was the biggest mistake of my life. Jawhar has taken it to Emir Nasser.'

‘What? Why the dagger, Farah? You could have taken anything else! It belongs to Sultan Muqrin who gave it to Bin Rahhal for safekeeping and you know it!'

Farah started crying bitterly. ‘I wanted to have a different life. I'm sick and tired of being a maid. I wanted to be the mistress of my own household, with my own palace and
servants. Jawhar told me the dagger alone was enough to buy his freedom. I also thought everyone had forgotten about the dagger by now.'

Farah stood up and threw herself at her mistress's feet. ‘I beg you, forgive me. I have made a terrible mistake. I have placed you at the emir's mercy!'

‘Why is that?'

‘Because if you don't submit to him and his desires, he's going to say you gave him the dagger after you fell for him and pursued him during Bin Rahhal's absence!'

The whole world suddenly stopped for Halima. The air, her breathing, the conversation, the tears; everything stood still. Halima's eyes froze and she stared into the emptiness. Her face wore an arrested expression, and nothing moved except her twitching eyes and lips. She then overcame her trance-like state and stood up, taking a few steps before her legs failed her, forcing her to sit back down, this time sobbing.

Farah stood up to help her. Suddenly, Halima's face transformed into an angry expression. ‘What are you saying, you wicked woman?'

Halima pulled her maid by the hair violently, removing locks of it with her bare hands. She then slapped her face several times until Farah started bleeding from her nose and mouth. ‘Get out of my sight, you harlot. How could you do this to me? Get out of my house! I don't want to see your face any more!'

Farah was still on the floor, begging. ‘Please forgive me, Mistress Halima. I have betrayed you, I know, but please forgive my error!'

Halima did not hear her. Every word of Farah's fuelled her anger. Halima said hysterically, ‘Get out of my face, you traitor. I don't want to see you ever again!' Then she broke down in a fit of uncontrollable weeping.

Days passed in which no stove was lit, no food was ordered, and no laughter or conversation was heard in Halima's house. The sad, dark days and nights passed emptily. Everyone else was gone, and nothing was left except the memory of the people who once lived there. Few sounds were heard in the house of mourning, save for crying and sobbing. It was as if a great calamity had visited the place and refused to leave.

One day, Farah mustered enough bravery to enter Halima's room. She approached her bed, where her mistress was sleeping quietly, and kissed her forehead.

Halima felt it and screamed, ‘Get out of my face, harlot. I don't want to see you!'

‘My lady, we are in a difficult position. I want to atone for my sin!'

‘And how would you do that? He's asking me to sell my honour in return for the dagger. Is that what you want me to do? Tell me!'

Farah spoke very quietly, trying to calm Halima down so she could hear what she had to say. ‘My lady, I will pay a hefty price to fix my mistake. Let me explain and then you can say whatever you want.'

Halima turned on her side, revealing her tear-battered face. Dark circles surrounded her eyes. This was not the Halima that Farah had known all these years.

Farah sat on the ground in shame and disgrace. She tried to explain her plan without looking at her mistress. Her tears, the tone of her voice, and the signs of slapping on her face were enough to make the conversation extremely serious.

‘I will summon him to the house, my lady.'

‘Are you insane?'

‘I'm asking your permission to invite him here. Then I will take it from there. All I want you to do is agree to my plan and then leave the house. Do not return until the following morning.'

Halima was appalled by Farah's words. She sat up abruptly. ‘I still feel betrayed by your actions, Farah. But I can never accept for you to give him your honour—'

Farah interrupted her forcefully. ‘We don't have time, my lady. It's going to have to be either your honour or mine. I am your servant. No one knows me and I have no family except you. My honour is worth nothing to anyone but me. I gave it to Jawhar in return for empty dreams. I don't mind giving it away for you and for this ordeal to end. It is eating me from the inside and killing me slowly.'

Halima was in a state of near-collapse. ‘You can't. I will not allow it Farah. There must be another way.'

Farah sprang up, looking away from Halima. ‘There is no other way. You have to listen to me this one time. I have lived my entire life listening to you.'

Halima stood up in turn, as though wanting to confront her. She said in an angry voice, ‘I will not let you, Farah. This is madness!'

Farah pulled Halima by her shoulders and embraced her, wanting to regain the bond between them. ‘I have caused you great harm, Halima. I must pay the price. Please, just listen to me.'

Halima and Farah embraced for a long time, like two long-lost friends. Halima felt her body relax and she started to feel the sense of reassurance she had been missing. This was how she felt before in Farah's warm embrace.

Halima remembered her dream that she had spoken about to Farah some time ago. Was Farah the bird from her vision? What did it mean when the bird flew away? Halima was not quite sure whether what she was going through now was the interpretation of that dream.

 

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28
 
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Hormuz

Albuquerque was attempting to bolster his authority in Hormuz. Every day he oversaw the construction of the Fort of Our Lady of Victory. He monitored trade transactions at the port and levied taxes on the ships arriving and departing.

His biggest problem was rebelling soldiers and officers. The heat, coupled with the unbearable humidity in Hormuz, prompted many to abscond from the island and flee to more hospitable places. One of Albuquerque's ships, captained by one of his officers, had even deserted to India. Albuquerque's most pressing goal now was to find more money for the Portuguese garrison on the island to avoid waking up one day with all of its soldiers gone. But the coffers were empty and Albuquerque knew he had to restore trade to normal so that tax revenues would once again flow.

Albuquerque appropriated the wing of the royal palace in Hormuz where Salghur once received his guests and delegations. The king was left with a few private rooms and a large hall that he turned into a
majlis
for his dwindling guests.

Albuquerque ordered his men to summon Attar. He was the only person whose opinion Albuquerque held in high regard, even if his loyalty was still to King Salghur and Hormuz. Albuquerque wished the man would switch
loyalties and become his personal adviser. Either way, Attar would present his arguments and views to Albuquerque, who had the final say over whether to accept or reject the vizier's advice, as he had many times before.

Attar entered the hall out of which Albuquerque now operated. The conquistador sat on a wooden chair behind a large desk piled with official documents, including slips given to shipmasters as proof they had paid their customs duties. Albuquerque no longer allowed anyone else to sign these documents, after he learned that the Portuguese harbourmaster he had appointed was collecting duties from the merchants without recording them in the books. Albuquerque knew that his officers were trying to hoard the kind of money they had no access to in Portugal, and were bent on returning home with their own fortunes.

Attar did not use the traditional local greeting with Albuquerque, because he never responded appropriately and also because Attar knew Albuquerque was averse to everything Arab and Muslim. Instead, he used the greeting Albuquerque preferred to hear.

‘Greetings, Governor.'

‘Sit down, Vizier. I want to consult you on an important matter.'

Attar sat down. He did not look thrilled to be there. The relationship between the two men was not good, and they were only cordial when mutual interests were at stake. Albuquerque needed Attar's opinion on many matters and decisions concerning the kingdom. In turn, Attar wanted to maintain a minimal relationship with Albuquerque, because he wanted people to know that Albuquerque needed him, yet he did not want people to think it was anything more.
It was after all a relationship between a soldier and a prisoner. The two men were in agreement over the need to maintain stability in Hormuz and for things there to return to normal, although each had his own vision for how to achieve this.

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