Chapter 13 #2
Dunya’s room were several maps, an early Greek text, a section of al-Mas‘udi’s geographies, and a star chart. “It’s the drawings.
I did not wish to raise your hopes, but from the moment I saw them, I could have sworn I knew of something similar. And I
found it here”—he jabbed a finger at the Greek text and then at al-Mas‘udi’s—“and here. Socotra has somewhat fallen out of
favor as a destination—”
“For good reason,” Tinbu muttered.
“—but in the period between Alexander’s conquests through the early centuries of the Abbasids, it was a far more popular entrep?t,”
Majed explained. “Alexander sent settlers to farm the dragon’s blood trees, and centuries later, al-Mas‘udi said—”
“Is any of this important?” Dalila cut in.
“ Yes ,” Majed replied, in the tone of a long-suffering schoolteacher.
“Al-Mas‘udi says it was rumored that Socotra was home to an expansive network of caves used as smugglers’ points and way stations by ancient seafarers. They would mark the walls to communicate with one another using not only pictographs and words but also drawings of their hands .”
“‘He sleeps beneath a ceiling of stone hands,’” I said, remembering Dunya’s verse. “But plenty of islands have caves, Majed.
And similar markings.”
“Yes, which is why I went back to the original Greek source.” Majed opened the slim text to a page marked with a thin ribbon
of green silk. “The markings are not just similar. They are exact. Look for yourself.”
We all leaned over the book. Majed was correct. The chronicler had painstakingly copied each drawing above a few lines of
text. There was the antlered man and the boat, the cruciforms and the hands.
“He explains what the locals believe each mark to have been,” Dalila explained. I could speak some Greek but reading it was
beyond me. “Oh. Apparently, the antlered man was the lord of the witches, Majed. Did you read that part?”
“Of course, I did. Both al-Mas‘udi and the Greek chronicler speak extensively of witches on the island. You will like even
less what they wrote about those supposed white snakes...” Majed flipped ahead several pages and we recoiled in unison
at the sketch of a man being consumed by a serpent ten times his size with a deeply unreasonable number of serrated fangs.
“The Greek chronicler never saw such a snake himself, but was apparently warned away by the locals. Centuries after, when
al-Mas‘udi was writing, he relates that the caves were so feared, their entrances had been purposely hidden. They were believed
to be haunted by spirits and guarded by sorcerers. Anyone venturing too close was never seen again.”
We all stared at him.
He tossed down the text with a huff. “Forgive me. Next time I sort out your problems, I shall try to make their solution less
troublesome for you.”
“We are deeply in your debt,” Dalila responded. “Indeed, should I find myself being swallowed by a gigantic snake and cursed by a witch, I will be certain who to blame.”
Tinbu had unrolled another one of the maps, tracing Socotra’s coastline with a finger. “It could fit. I don’t know what Socotra
was like back then, but it is a hell of a place to travel to now. You can sail there less than half the year; the currents
are otherwise too rough.”
Majed nodded. “There are definitely times when it fits the description inaccessible . And in my opinion, the drawings are damning. I’ve seen a lot of rock markings in my journeys; none are such a match. The
caves would also make for an excellent place to hide something. Whether that something is this supposed Moon of Saba...”
“It is,” I said softly. I had picked up the Greek text when Majed dropped it, one of the pages he flipped through catching
my attention. Among the sketches of the cave’s drawings was the outline of a bull’s head with stars for eyes. Majed might
know his history and his maps, but I knew the sky. “The constellation Taurus,” I explained, tapping out the points of the
bull’s horned head. “And at its left eye, its brightest star: al-Dabaran. The fourth lunar manzil.”
I received only baffled stares.
“The fourth lunar manzil. From the stories of Bilqis and the moon she bewitched?” When none of them looked any more enlightened,
I asked in exasperation, “Do you not know the story behind the very object we seek?”
“I heard you could use the Moon of Saba to summon storms,” Tinbu offered. “And that the pearl is large enough to sink a ship.”
“They say licking its surface will cure any ailment,” Dalila added. “Even poison.”
“And I thought the ‘object’ you were seeking was Dunya,” Majed cut in. “Not mythical gems.”
“We are seeking Dunya,” I assured him. “But she is seeking the Moon of Saba, and al-Dabaran is part of that. At least according to the stories that I know. It was while the moon was in the manzil of al-Dabaran that it was said to have fallen in love with Bilqis.”
Tinbu gave me a surprised look. “You’re hardly the type to remember romantic folktales.”
“It’s not the romance I remember. Al-Dabaran is said to rule over shipwrecks, along with other ill-fated journeys. It’s one
of the nastier lunar aspects; there are sailors back home so superstitious they will not set foot on a boat for the entire
fortnight. It’s an old belief, but I remember my grandfather would not sail then.”
“Well...” Majed said after an ominous pause, “superstition or not, fortunately that lunar manzil doesn’t start for months.
But it sounds like the pieces fit together even better than I initially believed. Whether or not the Moon of Saba exists,
it’s reasonable to assume Dunya believes it is hidden in these caves.”
“On Socotra,” Tinbu said bleakly.
“Indeed.” I grimaced. “This job just keeps getting better.”
Dalila glanced between us with a frown. “Why do you two look so worried? Is this not good news? ‘Large island’ could have
meant Lanka or Malacca and then we would be traveling for months.”
But Tinbu and I had good reason to be concerned.
“Socotra has been a pirates’ den since before the time of Suleiman and Bilqis, peace be upon them,” I explained. “ Real pirates. The kind who do not fret about murder charges and travel in convoys strong enough to face down navies. They watch the water like hawks and
appear before their victims with less warning than a ghost.”
“They are fiercely territorial,” Tinbu added.
“A number of my people are among them, and when they recruit from our villages, they warn that taking their oaths means renouncing all other bonds. They are allied with the islanders of Socotra; anyone not local would be a fool to think they could sneak around. And someone suspicious? A foreigner searching for treasure or, I don’t know.
.. a notorious female smuggler who might be viewed as competition ?
We would have kinder fates being tried for brigandry in Aden.
If Falco fell into their hands, he and everyone with him might
already be dead.”
“The situation is not hopeless.” Majed tapped his map. “The caves we seek are on the eastern end of the island, where it is
far more desolate and less populated. Any pirate with sense sticks to the northern and western ports, where they are closer
to the trade routes and have better access to crops and water. It is already out of season to depart from the south, so if
you were to approach from that direction and stay east, you could likely do so without being observed. However, the currents
are treacherous, the winds whip against the cliffs in a way that makes them terrible for sailing, and the water is littered
with reefs.”
“So you will sink ,” I said. “But not be observed by pirates when you drown?”
“They would not be the most dangerous waters the Marawati has traversed, and you’ve successfully traveled against the monsoon plenty of times,” Majed argued. “Merchant ships would
have no reason to make the attempt, but with God’s blessing, a skilled nakhudha at the rudders, and a knowledgeable navigator
as a guide... we could do it.”
My head shot up. “ We? ”
Majed met my gaze, his expression resolute. “You would be better served if I were aboard. I have copied out everything I could
of the cave locations and surrounding shores, but—”
“Then I will take your notes and pay you handsomely,” I interrupted. “I have sailing experience aplenty and cannot take you
against this Frank, brother. You have a family.”
“ You have a family,” Majed shot back. “What is so different about me that the three of you can risk your lives but I cannot?”
“About fifteen years.” Dalila tilted her head, sizing him up. “No... more like twenty.”
“Woman, if we both jumped overboard, I would still beat you swimming back to shore.” Majed crossed his arms over his belly with a challenging air. “What is the score Sayyida Salima offered? Before she blackmailed you. It must have been a substantial amount.”
Caught out, I confessed. “A million dinars.”
“ A million ...” Majed swore and then abruptly covered his mouth, as if we had not all heard him say much worse. “By God, no wonder
your crew looks so plump.”
“I will pay you for the notes,” I offered again, more urgently. “Very, very handsomely. You need not do this.” I reached for the map.
But Majed was faster—rolling the map up and stuffing his notes back in his saddlebag in the blink of an eye.
He gave me a knowing look. “I am not that much older than you. Asif meant as much to me as he did to the three of you, and
I am not going to watch as other people explore mariners’ caves and coastlines not used in centuries. For that reason alone, I would
go.” He sniffed. “The navigation scholarship demands it.”
“You just want to go on an adventure, old man,” Dalila teased. She turned to me. “But he has presented a compelling case for
his presence making our deaths less likely.”
“Let him come.” It was Tinbu, his eyes shining. “He is right, you know. We could use him. He reads the stars better than me.
Nearly as good as you.”
“There you have it,” Majed announced. “The three of us have decided.”
“The three of you are not the nakhudha!” I scowled. “Does Nasteho know?”
He bristled. “I don’t need my wife’s permission.”
Dalila clucked her tongue. “I bet it was her suggestion.”
Majed drew up, indignant. “You owe me this, Amina. I stood by you for years. Trust that I know my heart and my capabilities.”
I glared back. But then I remembered the small window in his office that overlooked the sea, where Majed drew maps to places he no longer went.
How many years had the two of us spent together, our heads bent over such maps and charts?
How many nights had we studied the stars and dreamed of China and a hundred other distant destinations while the Marawati drifted through a midnight ocean?
I was not the only one with ambitions deferred.
“Fine.” I gave in. “Come die with us. But you will be the one staying aboard the Marawati when the three of us search for the cave, understand? No —do not argue with me. One of us needs to stay on the ship and you have never wielded a weapon well.”
Majed glowered but inclined his head. “Then we are agreed.” He patted the bag. “I will need an advance on my share for these
notes, you understand.”
“That’s thievery. I thought you were a man of God now.”
The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile. “A family man as well, as you pointed out. Ten dinars for each of my children,
Amina, and thirty for my wife. That should set your fears at ease.”
I grumbled but agreed. “They will have it.”
Tinbu cackled in delight. “Oh, this is wonderful!” He pulled Majed and me into a hug, making an unsuccessful grab for Dalila.
“The gang all back together... we should rob something!”
Dalila’s eyes lit up. “That big jahazi headed for Kilwa looked promising.”
“ No, ” I said firmly. “We are not robbing anyone. We are not smuggling. We are not criminals anymore. Or at least... not all
of us are. Not on this trip anyway. We sail only to rescue Dunya from this Frank, God willing. And if we get Dunya back safely,
we’ll all be so rich that none of us will have to steal anything ever again.”
Dalila perched on my bench. “I know we’re trying to avoid him, but I confess myself intrigued by the prospect of seeing a Frank.
They are said to rarely bathe and never remove any of the hair that grows on their bodies.
I wonder what sort of lice live amongst such.
.. oh, stop gagging, Majed. I know you missed me. ”
“Not for a single moment in a single day.”
“If the two of you keep bickering, I am going to abandon you on Socotra to work out your differences.” I stared out at the
horizon, the name of our destination squeezing my heart like a vise. “Socotra. God preserve us.”