Bin-Shibam watched the girl go back down the hill and mount behind the camel rider. They set off again in the direction of the city. He felt no guilt or remorse for what he had required Nazeen to do. When it was over, when al-Salil sat once more upon the Elephant Throne, he would find her a good husband. If that was what she wanted.
Bin-Shibam smiled and shook his head. He sensed that she was one of those born with a natural talent and appetite for her vocation. Deep down, he knew that she would never give up the excitement of the city for the austere, aesthetic life of the tribe. She was not a woman who would place herself willingly under the domination of a husband.
'That little one could take care of a hundred men. Perhaps I could do better for her simply by taking care of her blind mother, and leaving her to work out her own destiny. Go in peace, little Nazeen, and be happy,' he whispered after the distant shape of the camel, as it disappeared in the purple haze of fading day. Then he whistled and after a while the true goatherd came out of his hiding-place among the rocks. He knelt before bin-Shibam and kissed his sandal led feet. Bin-Shibam shrugged off the faded robe, and handed it back to him.
'You heard nothing. You saw nothing,' he said.
'I am deaf, blind and dumb,' the goatherd agreed. Bin-Shibam gave him a coin, and the man wept with gratitude.
Bin-Shibam crossed the ridge and went down to where he had left his own camel knee-haltered. He mounted, turned her head southwards, and rode through the night and the following day without pause. He ate a handful of dates and drank thick curds of camel's milk from the skin bladder that hung behind his saddle. He even prayed on the march.
In the evening he smelt the sea salt. Still without check he rode on through the night. In the dawn the ocean lay spread before him like an infinite shield of silver. From the hills he saw the fast felucca anchored just off the beach. The captain, Tasuz, was a man who had proven himself many times over. He sent a small boat to the beach to fetch bin-Shibam aboard.
Bin-Shibam had brought with him writing materials. He sat cross legged on the deck with the scroll before him and wrote down all that Nazeen had been able to tell him. He ended with the words, 'Majesty, may God grant you victory and glory. I shall wait with all the tribes to welcome you when you return to us.' By the time he had finished, the day was far spent. He gave the scroll to Tasuz. 'Surrender this only into the hands of Caliph al-Salil. Give your own life rather than this scroll to another,' he ordered. Tasuz could neither read nor write, so the report was safe with him. He already had detailed sailing directions for Nativity Bay. Like many illiterate people, he had an infallible memory. He would not forget a single detail.
'Go with God, and may He fill your sail with His sacred breath.' Bin Shibam dismissed him.
'Stay with God, and may angels spread their wings over you, great sheikh,' Tasuz replied.
It was one hundred and three days later that Tasuz picked out the towering whale- backed bluff that his sailing orders had described, and as he steered into the lagoon he recognized the three tall ships that he had last seen anchored in Muscat harbour.
The entire Courtney family were gathered in the refectory, the central room in the main block of Fort Auspice where they spent much of their leisure time. It had taken Sarah four years to furnish it to its present state of homely comfort. The floor and all the furniture had been lovingly made by the carpenters from indigenous timber, stink wood, tam bootie and black wood magnificently grained and polished with beeswax to a warm lustre. The women had embroidered the cushions and stuffed them with wild kapok. The floors were covered with tanned animal skins. The walls were decorated with framed paintings, most of which had been executed by Sarah and Louisa, although Verity, during her short stay at the fort, had made a substantial contribution to the gallery. Sarah's harpsichord had pride of place against the main wall, and now that Dorian and Mansur were back the family choir was at full strength once again.
This evening there was no singing. They were concerned with far more dire affairs. They sat in intent silence and listened to Verity translate into English the long, detailed report that Tasuz had brought them from bin-Shibam in the north. Only one member of the family was less than enthralled by this recital.
George Courtney was now almost three, highly mobile and articulate, harbouring no doubts about his needs and desires and unafraid to make them known. He circled the table with his chubby buttocks showing under the vest that was his only garment. In front his uncircumcised penis waggled like a small white worm. George was accustomed to having the full attention of all, from the lowliest black servant to that godlike being, Grandpa Tom.
'Wepity!' He tugged imperiously at Verity's skirts. He was still having difficulty with the pronunciation of her name. 'Talk to me too!'
Verity faltered. George was not easily appeased. She broke off the recital of lists of men, ships and cannon, and looked down at him. He had his mother's golden hair, and his father's green eyes. He looked so angelic that he squeezed her heart and awakened in her instincts so deep-seated that she had only recently become aware of them. 'I will tell you a story after,' she offered.
'No! Now!' said George.
'Don't be a pest,' said Jim.
'Georgie baby, come to Mama,' said Louisa.
George ignored both his parents. 'Now, Wepity, now!' he said again, his voice rising. Sarah reached into the pocket of her apron and brought out a piece of shortbread. She showed it to him under the table. For the moment George lost all interest in Verity, dropped on to all fours, and shot among their feet to snatch the bribe out of his grandmother's hand.
'You have a wonderful way with children, Sarah Courtney.' Tom grinned at her. 'Just spoil 'em rotten, an't that so?'
'I learned the art from dealing with you,' she answered tartly. 'For you are the greatest baby of all.'
'Will you two stop squabbling for a moment? You're worse than Georgie by far,' Dorian told them. 'There's an empire at stake and all our lives at risk, while you are playing at being doting grandparents.'
Verity raised her voice and took up from where she had been interrupted, and they all became serious again. At last she read out bin Shibam's final salutation to his Caliph. ''Majesty, may God grant you victory and glory. I shall wait with all the tribes to welcome you when you return to us.'
Tom broke the silence at last. 'Can we trust this fellow? How did he find out so much?'
'Yes, brother, we can trust him,' Dorian replied. 'I do not know how he has come by this news, I only know that if bin-Shibam says it is so, then it must be true.'
'In that case we cannot remain here to be attacked by an overwhelming fleet of war-dhows crammed with battle-hardened Omani troops. We will have to move on.'
'Do not even think it, Tom Courtney,' said Sarah. 'I have spent my whole married life on the move. This is my home, and this creature Zayn al-Din will not drive me out of it. I am staying here.'
'Woman, will you not listen to reason for once in your life?'
'I hate to take sides in such a domestic furore,' Dorian took his pipe out of his mouth and smiled at them fondly, 'but Sarah is right. We will never be able to run far enough to escape the wrath of Zayn and the men with him. Their enmity will encompass oceans and continents.'
Tom frowned darkly and tugged at one large ear. Then he sighed. 'Maybe you're right, Dorry. The hatred they bear this family goes back too far. Sooner or later we must stand and face them.'
'We will never have such an opportunity presented to us again,' Dorian went on. 'Bin-Shibam has given us Zayn al-Din's complete battle plan. Zayn will come to fight us on our own ground. When he disembarks his army it will be at the end of a voyage of two thousand
leagues. He will have only those of his horses that have survived the rig ours of the journey. We, on the other hand, will be prepared, our men rested, armed and well mounted.' Dorian laid his hand on his brother's shoulder. 'Believe me, Tom, this is our best chance and probably the only one we will get.'
'You think like a warrior,' Tom conceded, 'while I think like a merchant. I relinquish command to you. The rest of us, Jim and Louisa, Mansur and Verity, will follow your orders. I would like to say the same for my dear wife, but following orders has never been one of her strengths.'
'Very well, Tom, I accept the task. We have but a little time to lay our plans,' Dorian said, 'and will need to take advantage of every minute of it. My first concern will be to survey the field, to pick out those areas where we are strongest and avoid those where we are weakest.'
Tom nodded approval. He liked the way Dorian had so swiftly taken the reins. 'Go on, brother. We are all listening.'
Dorian spoke through puffs of tobacco smoke. 'We know from bin Shibam that when Zayn brings his ships into the lagoon and bombards the fort, it will be a diversion. The main force under Koots's command will land on the coast and march overland to surround us and prevent us breaking out to retreat inland. What we have to do first is find the most likely spot for Koots to land, then survey the route he will be forced to take to reach the fort.'
The next day Dorian and Tom went on board the Revenge and sailed in a northerly direction along the coast. They stood together at the chart table, studying the coastline as it passed, refreshing their
