ships in the bay to support him. He had volunteered for this duty: he wanted to be there when the attackers broke into the treasury under the fort where his fifteen chests of gold bars were stored. He wanted to protect his property from looting.
There was one possible flaw in this plan. Would the rebel ships be in the bay? Zayn had not jumped to a hasty conclusion. He had gathered all the intelligence from his spies in every port and harbour in the Ocean of the Indies, including Ceylon and the Red Sea. Not one had been able to report a sighting of al-Salil's ships during the many months since his capture of the Arcturus. It seemed that they had vanished without trace.
They could not have disappeared from the sight of so many eyes, Zayn reasoned. 'They are hiding, and there is only one place for them to hide.' He wanted to believe this, but doubt itched like a flea in his undershirt. He wanted a final assurance. 'Send for the holy mullah. We shall ask him to pray for guidance. Then I will ask Kadem ibn Abubaker
for a sign.' Mullah Khaliq was a saint of vast sanctity and power. His prayers had been a shield to Zayn over the years, and his faith had lit the way to victory in some of his darkest hours.
Kadem ibn Abubaker had the gift of prophecy, one of the reasons that Zayn al-Din valued him so highly. He relied on the revelations that sprang from him.
In the great cabin of the Sufi, the three, caliph, mullah and admiral, prayed together through that long night. Khaliq's expression was rapt, his single eye glittering, as he recited the most holy texts in his nasal, singsong voice.
While he listened and made the responses, Kadem ibn Abubaker felt himself falling into that familiar dreamlike state. He knew that the angel of God was near. Just before break of dawn he fell into a sudden, heavy sleep, and the angel came to him. Gabriel lifted him out of his body and bore him up on white, rustling wings to a high place, a mountain shaped like the back of a whale.
The angel pointed down and his voice echoed weirdly in Kadem's head: 'Behold, the ships are in the bay!'
They floated on a circle of bright waters, and on the deck of the largest stood a tall, familiar figure. When Kadem recognized al-Salil, the hatred flowed through his veins like poison. Al-Salil raised his bare head and looked up at him; his hair and his beard were red gold.
'I shall destroy you!' Kadem shouted down at him, and as he said the words al-Salil's head burst into flame, and burned like a torch. The flame leaped up into the rigging, and spread swiftly, consuming everything, man and ships. The waters of the bay boiled, the steam rose in a great cloud and blotted out the dream.
Kadem woke with a deep sense of religious joy, and found himself once more in the great cabin with Zayn al-Din and Khaliq watching him for the sign.
'My uncle, I have seen the ships,' he told his caliph. The angel has shown them to me. They are in the bay and they shall be destroyed by fire.'
After that Zayn had no more doubts. The angel would deliver his enemy to him. Now he looked across the white flecked sea at the distant mountain.
'Al-Salil is here. I can smell him in the wind, and taste him in my mouth,' he muttered. 'I have waited a lifetime for this moment.'
Peter Peters translated his words and Sir Guy agreed at once. 'I have the same conviction. I shall stand once more on the deck of my lovely Arcturus before this day is done.' While Peters relayed this, Sir Guy had another thought that was almost as poignant. Not only would he recover
his ship but his daughter too. Verity would come back to him. Even if she was no longer virgin, sullied and dirtied, no matter. His breath rasped in his throat as he imagined how she must be punished, and how sweet would be the reconciliation that followed. Their previous close and happy state would be restored. She would love him again, as he still loved her.
'Majesty, Muri Kadem's division is heaving to,' Rahmad reported.
Zayn roused himself, and walked back to the stern. This was how he had planned it. Kadem had the five smaller war-dhows under his command and the fifteen troop transports and supply ships. None of the transports was armed: they were merchant vessels Zayn had commandeered for this expedition, crammed with soldiers.
Kadem would lie offshore until the first division entered the bay and attacked the rebel fort. When he heard the guns open up, that would be the signal for him to take in the second division, and to land Koots and his troops in the Umgeni river mouth. When Koots had secured the landing, they could bring in the supply ships that were transporting the horses and land them through the surf. The cavalry would follow the infantry, and mop up any survivors who tried to fly from the doomed fort.
However, the long voyage in the heavy seas of the kaskay, had been terribly hard on the horses. They had already lost almost two in every five, and those that had survived were in poor condition. Weak and emaciated, they could still be used to pursue the fugitives. However, it would take many weeks for them to recover fully.
Many of the infantry were in scarcely better condition. The ships were overcrowded and the troops were ravaged by sea-sickness, the half rotted rations they had to eat, and the water that was thick with green slime. However, Koots would stiffen them up once he had them ashore. Koots could get a corpse to stand up and fight until it was killed again. Zayn smiled wolfishly.
They left the second division hove-to and Zayn's division forged ahead, straight for the entrance to the bay. As they closed in under the brooding height of the bluff, Zayn could pick out the calmer water of the channel. On either side of it the white surf broke, lashed into a fury by the onshore wind.
'They cannot escape us,' he gloated. 'Even if they spot us now, it will be too late for them.'
'I long for sight of my Arcturus.' Sir Guy stared ahead eagerly. Verity might still be aboard. He imagined her lying on her bunk in the beautifully decorated cabin, her long hair trailing over her shoulders and her soft white bosom.
'May I beat to quarters, my caliph?' Rahmad asked respectfully.
'Do so!' Zayn nodded. 'Run out the guns. By now the enemy must have seen us. They will be waiting for us in their ships and on the parapets of the fort.'
With all her great cannon loaded, and the gun crews crouching behind them, the Sufi led the line of warships up the centre of the channel. Laleh was the pilot, for he was the only one aboard who knew the channel well. He stood beside the helmsman at the wheel and listened to the chant of the man in the bows who was calling the soundings. The bulk of the bluff towered at their left hand, and on their right spread the jungle and mangroves of the littoral. Laleh judged the turn in the channel and gave the order to the helm.
The Sufi slatted her canvas, then rilled it again with a subdued thunder, and they were round the rump of the bluff. But their speed through the water was scarcely diminished. Zayn stared ahead eagerly: he seemed to snuffle the air like a hunting dog hard on the heels of his quarry. Before them opened the wide sweep of the inner waters of the bay. Slowly Zayn's warlike glare faded and was replaced by an expression of disbelief. The vision that the angel had shown Kadem could not have been false. 'They are gone!' Sir Guy whispered.
The waters of the bay were empty. There was not even a fishing-boat at anchor in its whole wide expanse. The silence was ominous.
Still the line of five ships tore on, straight towards the walls of the fort on which the muzzles of the enemy guns stared at them blankly from a mile away. Zayn fought off the sense of foreboding that threatened to debilitate him. The angel had shown Kadem a vision, yet the ships were gone. He closed his eyes and prayed aloud: 'Hear me, Holiest of All. I pray you, great Gabriel, answer me.' Both Sir Guy and Rahmad looked at him strangely. 'Where are the ships?'
'In the bay!' He heard the voice reverberate in his head, but there was a sly, sardonic tone to it. The ships that shall burn are already in the bay.'
Zayn looked back, and saw that the fifth and last of his war-dhows was coming through the deep-water channel into the bay.
'You are not Gabriel,' Zayn blurted. 'You are the shaitan Iblis, the Fallen One. You have lied to us.' Rahmad stared at him in astonishment. You showed us our own fleet,' Zayn cried out. 'You have led us into a trap. You are not Gabriel. You are the Black Angel.'
'Nay, great caliph,' Rahmad protested. 'I am the most loyal of all your subjects. I would never think to lead you into a trap.'
Zayn stared at him. Rahmad's consternation was so comical that he
was forced to laugh, but it was a bitter sound. 'Not you, you poor fool. Another more cunning than you.'
A single cannon shot boomed out across the waters of the bay, and forced Zayn's attention back to the present. Powder smoke rolled from the parapet of the fort and the ball struck the water and ricocheted across the surface of the bay. It crashed into the hull of the Sufi and there was a scream of agony from the lower decks.
'Anchor the fleet in line and open fire on the fort,' Zayn ordered. He felt a sense of relief that at last the battle had begun.
As each of the war-dhows dropped anchor and took in its canvas, it rounded up to the wind, and turned its starboard battery on the fort. One after another they opened the bombardment and the heavy stone balls kicked showers of dust and loose earth from the glacis, or smashed into the log walls. It was immediately obvious that the fortifications could not withstand such furious fire for long. The
