William the Conquerer and the Sands of Persia: Chapter 9 - The Port of Chalas

Soon they reached the port of Chalus. It was similar to the port city of Astara that they had left behind, only bigger. Many ships unloaded goods, some appeared to hail from the Armenian city of Baku and parts of Russia, to the north. 

The city sprawled with more mosques and minarets. William and his band stepped off the ship and wandered through the winding streets. A holy man was chanting out prayers. 

“Allah, akaballah, Allah, oh akaba, lilohai, laliahoa hai,” as multiple worshippers prayed. 

Suddenly they came upon a group of soldiers with one bearing a sack of gold coins on his uniform. This was the royal tax collector. 

“Ten dinars!” he roared at a poor man. 

“But, I cannot pay such a sum, oh great master of arms. Misfortune has come to my house, and Allah has not provided me with more gold.”

“Pay it or die!” 

“Cease!” called William, “This man is too poor.”

“Who are you, boy, to impede the duty of the royal tax collectors?” 

“I am William of Ali-Baba’s men. Hajji, I wish for a sword.”

Hajji swirled his hands in the air, looking very magical. Then he reached down and slyly snagged a sword from a nearby adventurer’s sheath. Hajji threw the sword to William, who expertly snatched it from midair, and charged into the fray, viciously taking on all of the soldiers. Stabbing one and then another, William then dodged one more and slit his belly open. Then the captain came on and there was a great fight. They circled around each other, feeling out each other’s defenses. William lashed to his arm joint and then to his leg, two straight cuts. In return, the Captain cut to William’s head. Then to his other leg. Then they both cut up and down two times. 

Finally, William sliced him and the Captain fell. The poor peasant cheered William. 

“Excellent swordsmanship, William,” said Ali-Baba, “But this will draw attention. We should set out as quickly as possible for Ray, for that is where we can get our hands on a magic carpet .”

“Perhaps we could hide ourselves in a merchant’s caravan,” said Scherezade.

“Excellent idea,” said Sinbad, “Shall we make our way to the city market?”

“Yes,” said William, “it’s a good plan. Thank you for this sword, Hajji, it’s of excellent craftsmanship.”

“True Damascus steel,” replied Hajji, then he pointed up the street, “To the market!”

Meanwhile, William saw the unfortunate onlooker whose sword had been snatched by Hajji began to look around confusedly, wondering where he could have dropped his sword.

“I have your sword, good sir,” William explained helpfully, “ it has helped us to defeat tyranny!”

The man said he was glad his sword had been of service, but warned William against stealing, 

“It could bring you to a sorry end, young sir,” he espoused. William returned the sword to its owner with a bow and sincere thanks, and then the band  set off toward the city of Chasul’s market, which was about a kilometer away. 

When they arrived, William found the market to be very large. He saw exotic spices and many fish for sale. He also saw mirrors, knives, weapons, pots and delicate pipes for the hookah. There were also rugs, clothing and many ornately decorated books . 

William walked over to a clothes vendor. Taking off his leather belt, he said, “I will trade this with you for a turban and that white shirt over there.”

“Done!” said the merchant, who thought William’s belt was very handsome. William put on the shirt and turban, adjusting it so it felt right, and rejoined his friends, who’d purchased provisions for the journey by caravan.

“Now, we just need to find a caravan going in the right direction,” William pointed out.

They saw three nearby rows of camels. One looked very old and tired. The second looked to be in good condition. The third group of camels looked very large and strong, and had many guards. 

“We shall speak with the head merchant for that second caravan, the one that looks decent, but not too nice.”

They crossed to the merchant.

“Pardon me, good sir,” said William, “My companions and I seek passage across the desert to Ectbana. Are you going that way?”

“I am,” said the merchant in a deep, rich voice, “But my camels are laden with many items. I’m not sure I could possibly fit you and your companions. How many are you?”

“We are five,” said William.

“And what would it be worth to you to ride my camels?”

William turned to Ali-Baba and asked, “How much should we offer?”

“William, this is Persia, leave the negotiating to me.” And with that, Ali-Baba approached the merchant.

“Good sir, don’t you see that by us traveling with you, your camels will emerge stronger for carrying the additional weight. A stronger camel is worth more, so I think the question is: how will you pay us to ride on your camels?”

“I never thought of it that way,” the merchant considered, “Please climb aboard my camels! We leave in three minutes!”

They all climbed aboard camels. William thought his camel was sturdy and looked to be of good temper. 

“I shall name you, ‘Jack Sparrow,” he told his new friend. 

Then a European tradesman wearing a tunic replied, “Did some one call my name?”

“Not you. I was talking to the camel,” William explained.

William continued to stare at this wondrous new world. It was so strange to him, so exotic, so beautiful. Some men wore tall turbans that looked like towers. 

The merchant came over to William. 

“Young sir,” he said, “I see that you, unlike your companions, have no weapon with which to defend yourself. The desert can be treacherous, full of angry tribesmen and thieving bandits. I beseech you to accept this sword to safely traverse the desert sands.”

“Thank you, good merchant,” said William gratefully accepting the katar. He turned it over in his hand, admiring how the sun reflected off the blade.

Then, the merchant moved to the front of their group and gave a call, “Forward!” 

The train of camels set off into the desert under the stars of the beautiful evening. The sun set over the sea like a furnace, and as the sun disappeared, there was a green flash.

William was the only person, aside from Sinbad, to have seen that before. So they continued. William had never ridden a camel before and he felt seasick. He concentrated on the horizon line to calm his stomach. 

As they rode along, William struck up a conversation with Scherezade.

“What a beautiful evening,” he said.

“Indeed it is,” replied Scheherezade. 

“We have a story about you back in my time. It’s the story of how you kept the king from killing you by telling him a story for a thousand and one nights.”

“That sounds like a thrilling story, but I hope it never comes to pass. I’m not sure I have enough stories to fill a thousand and one nights, and even if I did, the threat of death for that long would take a terrible toll on me.” 

“Did anyone ever tell you that you look beautiful in the evening?”

“Many men have told me that.”

“Well,” said William, “every one of them spoke the truth.”

And with that they fell silent and listened to the light desert winds. After a few moments William spurred his camel and caught up with Ali-Baba. 

“Were you always a thief?” he asked.

“Bite your tongue, companion. ‘Thief’ is a dishonorable word. I am a liberator of wealth from the rich, and a provider of wealth to the poor.”

“Once you have your revenge on Al-Horrid, what will you do then?”

“I will remain under the desert night. Under the fair stars and the beautiful moon.”

“Will you always keep robbing people?”

“Only until the poor are no longer poor.”

They kept silent.

William stared at the beautiful oriental night. The moon was a large white ball that bathed the desert in its light, and the millions of stars twinkled. The night sky provided a beautiful atmosphere to the desert. 

So they rode. After some hours William noticed that some stars were missing. Then he could see a little of Ali-Baba’s camel and the camels in front and behind. The moon began to fade. Then he noticed the sky growing pink, and then gold. The hot sun rose. They continued to ride. William felt very hot. His turban did help keep his head cool, but the sun was still relentless. He continued to feel hot. They were far from any city now. After a while the sun was so hot he couldn’t stand it. Then he went mad. 

“Ah, the voices, they’ve got me!” he cried. William had heard of Avoir Le Cafard from his grandpa who had served in the French Foreign Legion. It was the horrid desert madness, a sickness caused by boredom, monotony, and the heat. William fell off his camel and flopped on the ground like a fish. He began doing a Cossack walk saying, “I’m the singing sensation of the whole dang nation!! I’m made of sand, just look at my hand!”

“Makaa wakaka deeka docka!” he screamed, and ran his finger down his lip, “The camels are coming! The puppies are everywhere! The monkeys are kittening the spiders! The puppies are flumping mayonnaise! Ahhahahahahahahaha!” He did a happy squirrel dance and then began to do the worm. And then he put his left flank on the ground and tried to run around with little success. Because that’s what a crazy person would do. 

Ali-Baba jumped off his camel and poured water down William’s parched and aching throat. 

“Thank you,” croaked William, after a moment, “I feel a lot better.”

Then, off in the distance, William saw an arcade full of video games and VR games. He was afraid to say anything to Hajji, because he might not know what a video game was, but at the moment, it was his greatest wish. He raced to it, but as he grew closer, it suddenly disappeared.

“Where did it go?” he asked Hajji.

“It was just a mirage,” Hajji explained kindly, “You see it, but it isn't really there. It is caused by the heat”

William remounted Jack Sparrow and they continued to ride. Slowly the sun went westward and then sank. The desert changed from bright blue to purple to pink to scarlet to dark blue. The stars appeared and the moon rose. They continued on their way. 

It was about three o’clock in the morning, when the bandits struck. They had been shadowing the camel caravan for some time. William had felt a sense of foreboding, like they were being watched, and of course they were being watched. 

It started with the thunderous galloping of camels’ hooves. William immediately gripped his sword.

“Attack on the left!” called Ali-Baba, “Prepare to defend yourselves!” 

All astride camels turned to the left to face the enemy and reduce their profile in case arrows were coming. 

The bandits charged, coming upon them. William and Ali-Baba charged into the thick of it, followed by Sinbad. They wielded their swords deftly, striking if they could not get at the body, and they struck off hands that were aiming cuts at them.

Scheherazade watched the fight along with Hajji, who desperately tried to conjure up some defensive magic. The merchant and his men joined, too, fighting well, and the night was filled with the clanging, slashing, and shrieking of men in combat. 

Soon the bandits were driven away, carrying their wounded. 

“What were those bandits doing?” asked William.

“Those were no bandits, but Al-Horrid’s men,” said Ali-Baba, “They attack caravans and bring the treasure to him. He pretends to look into wiping them out, when in reality, he is really trying to get more gold for himself.” 

“That’s definitely evil,” said William. 

A sandstorm begins. William heard a whistling sound, soft at first, then growing louder and louder. Little flecks of sand began to hit his robe. 

“Sandstorm!” called the Caravan leader. He directed his camel toward the lee side of a dune, indicating for all to follow him. The camels, wary of the rising storm, made haste to get there, but the lee of the dune offered only marginal protection. They ducked down behind as the winds rose more and the whistling increased to a moaning and the sky turned red. 

William closed his eyes. The sky turned to black, and William’s camel moaned like the sandstorm. Meanwhile, the moaning increased to a dull rumble. The raining sand became sharper against their garments. 

Scherezade screamed. Hajji screamed, too. William tried to go to sleep but the noise was so loud even the dead wouldn’t have been able to sleep. 

William tried to wish for the sandstorm to stop by asking Hajji. 

“Hajji!” yelled William, “I wish for the sandstorm to come to an end!” The sandstorm ceased a little, that was all Hajji could do. 

But very slowly, the sandstorm’s intensity waned. When the sandstorm ceased entirely, and the desert was as silent as a grave and the sand smooth as glass, they continued on their way.

William grew increasingly bored with the travelling. The only sounds were the sound of the camels’ feet on the sand.  

The sky began to lighten, turning first gray, and then pink, then William heard as they approached the gates of the city of Ray. It was a mighty city with a wall around it. 

William felt grateful to be approaching the relative safety of a large metropolis. And here was where they hoped to get their flying carpet. He also hoped to have another conversation with Scheherezade, for he had begun to fall in love with her.