Sinbad and The Eye of the Tiger (19 page)

“And more dangerous,” Sinbad said, crouching down. The wind cut through even the thick fur garments and he was already stiff. “This way is all on foot . . . but it is the only way.”

Melanthius nodded. “It will take several days. We must set out at once.”

Sinbad nodded. “As soon as we’ve loaded the sledges.” He looked around at his cold, already tired crew and pointed at Aboo-seer. “You will remain here, in command of the ship. But I will need four men to come with us.” His grin was wide and his teeth very white. “Four
good
men, strong and determined.”

The line of sailors was silent. Their faces were weary. Ice stuck to the beards of many. Lit by the flickering flames of the bonfire, Sinbad could see that they were impassive, and some were even hostile.

Farah spoke up in a clear voice. “My uncle Balsora, the Regent, will reward you when we return to Charak.”

Hassan grunted.
“If
we return . . .”

Farah stood up, her hands out in a gesture of pleading. “All the gold you can carry. Enough to buy any one of you a ship of his own . . .”

Hassan snorted loudly. “If
I
ever get back to Charak, I’m never going to put to sea again!”

Some of Hassan’s bearded companions laughed, but most just stared, resentful and ugly with cold. Then Sinbad stepped closer to the fire.

“Then buy yourself a caravan of camels, or a half-dozen wives.” He grinned. “You’ll have to do something to pass the time if you give up the sea.”

The sailors laughed and Hassan spoke in a lighter tone. “Six wives?”

“As many as you like,” Sinbad said with an expansive gesture. “The most beautiful girls in Arabia. All perfect, with skin like honey and dark, loving eyes. And all for your delight and pleasure!” The firelight glinted off teeth bared in wolfish, lustful smiles. “Or dark maidens from Africa, sleek and lean . . . slanted-eyed beauties from Cathay, trained in the most exotic arts . . . blonde fire maidens from the Norselands . . .

Hassan jumped to his feet, his weariness gone. He waved his mittened hand at his fellow crewmen. “Let’s load up the sledges!”

Maroof, Bahadin the helmsman, and Ali were chosen with Hassan. The rest of the sailors jumped to their feet, laughing and trading rough jests about another’s ability to satisfy even one wife, much less a half dozen.

Sinbad turned away from the fire. His eyes locked with those of the princess. She seemed aloof, cold, perhaps offended by Sinbad’s appeal to their lustful natures. But then she smiled, a soft and knowing smile, and her long lashes covered her eyes demurely.

Sinbad smiled and began to lash bundles to a sledge.

The tundra was a vast, bleak deserted wilderness of snow, ice, with an occasional jagged dark rock protruding sharply. The tiny figures of the expedition moved slowly across the stark landscape, dwarfed by the immensity of the chill terrain. The stores were loaded onto two sledges, lashed down against the bumps and wind, each sledge hauled by two sailors. The baboon was riding on the rear sledge, just ahead of Farah. Melanthius and Dione tradged along wearily, automatically behind her. The sledges made little sound, and all was silent, except for the keening of the freezing Arctic wind.

Sinbad was in the lead, watching for cracks, canyons filled in by drifting snow, and other hidden dangers. The wind increased in force, whipping more snow into a blinding, featureless shroud of dirty white, which isolated them from the world. Sinbad shouldered into the wind, tapping the ice ahead of them with a spear.

Flurries of snow hid one sledge from another for long moments, but they struggled ahead regardless. The travelers bent their heads into the furious wind and battled on, looking up only now and again to orient themselves.

Sinbad stopped and wiped the snow and ice from his eyebrows, peering into the blizzard with narrowed eyes. Ahead was a huge frozen lake, an immense expanse of bleak, endless ice. The snowfall increased, blocking out the sight. Sinbad turned and hollered into the falling snow.

“Come on! We’ll make camp just ahead!”

The grateful sledge haulers heaved into their pulling straps, sliding the heavy loads over the snow, then down an incline toward the snow-shrouded shore. Sinbad saw Melanthius and Farah fall behind and battled through the snow drifts to grasp their arms and help them get down to the campsite.

The wind continued and the snow stung their faces as the four crewmen and Sinbad unloaded some of the stores and tipped the sledges on their sides to act as windbreakers. Sinbad helped Farah and Dione down under blankets, in the most protected spot behind the sledges, then checked Melanthius, who was snugged in. They all chewed dried meat and fell quickly into the blank sleep of exhaustion.

The storm raged on, burying the sleeping figures in a mantle of white.

The brass ship of the sorceress Zenobia cut cleanly through the mountainous dark-purple waves. The wind-bred spume that whipped whitely from the wave tops shot like arrows across the glistening wet deck. The Minaton’s massive arms moved relentlessly, driving the brazen vessel northward.

Rafi huddled in the shelter of the cabin doorway, wrapped in a heavy robe, watching disconsolately as his mother paced the deck. She was drenched, and the wet wind plastered strands of her long black hair across her face like snakes driven mad. He chewed at the inside of his mouth as he watched her pace back and forth, back and forth, like some sort of tiger.

The fur of her leopard- and tigerskin robe was soaked but she limped up and down, up and down, her clawed foot scraping against the smooth metal deck. Rafi sighed. He would not get to eat until she tired of being on watch. He never got to do
anything
until his mother was ready for it.

But that would change when
he
was Caliph!

There was a crackfing of ice and a monstrous beast, shaped like a giant sack, rose from the snow. It had teeth as long as swords, two great downward-thrusting ivory shafts as long as a woman’s arm. It bellowed and the men dropped the straps of the sledges and groped for their swords.

“A walrus!” Hassan shouted.

“Food!” cried Sinbad.

The walrus was bigger than any they had ever seen or heard of before, but they were also further north than any sailor they had known about. The great lumbering beast lurched out of the pocket of ice and snow in which it had been lying and bellowed at the intruders.

Sinbad waved at Melanthius. “Get the princess back!” He pointed at Dione, who was frozen with surprise. “Dione! Get back!”

The princess of Charak ran to the sledge and freed the fur-covered cage of the baboon and lugged it shakily to a safe distance, followed by Dione, who was helping her father. Sinbad’s men were fanning out as he shouted commands.

“Use anything you can! Spears, axes, anything!” He looked back at Melanthius and the two women. They were getting well out of danger, so Sinbad seized a spear from a sledge. The baboon’s gibbering and shrieking was heard even over the crackling of ice, and Sinbad heard Dione’s calming words only faintly as he advanced.

Hassan grabbed a net from the nearest sledge, which they had used to hold down the stores. He cut it loose with a few slashes of his sharp knife and spun it wide, giving Sinbad a wolfish grin.

“This will slow it down!”

Sinbad pulled a spear from the cluster on the first sledge, for a sword would do little against the heavy fur, thick hide, and, more importantly, the layers of insulating fat. Hassan trotted across the snow and spun the net expertly, spreading it for the cast.

“Watch out!” cried out Maroof, falling back under the waddling lunge of the great beast of the North. Hassan ran forward and cast the net, catching the walrus on the first throw. The fat animal bellowed angrily and pulled back, pulling Hassan along. Two of the men threw down their weapons to grab at the net, running to the side to engulf the lumbering creature in the folds.

But the walrus backed away, ducking, twisting, and the net slipped over his head. Hassan and the others tumbled backwards. Sinbad called out and threw a spear to Hassan, who was closest, then picked up one of the discarded spears from the snowdrift. The walrus, still snorting, advanced again. All the sailors attacked it, jabbing upward at the great gray creature with their relatively puny swords and spears. The gigantic creature continued to advance, crashing through them to smash their precious stores of food and equipment with each wave of its big flippers, with each slashing blow from its massive tusks, and with each ponderous slither of its tremendous, whalelike body. The swords and spears were useless. Nothing could deter it. Its thick gray armor of blubber absorbed everything.

“Swords, spears, useless,” panted Sinbad. “Hassan! Maroof! Try the net again!”

“I’ll try for the mouth!” shouted Bahadin, closing in for a throw, hoping to go right into the open, bellowing mouth, bypassing the folds of blubber and striking the monster in a vulnerable spot.

“No! Wait!” cried Maroof, but it was too late.

The spear went true, but the great sea beast closed his mouth, catching the spear and suffering only minor damage. The walrus spat out the spear as he backed up, and Bahadin ran forward to grab it up and try again.

“Bahadin!” Sinbad cried. “Watch out! The ice is . . . !” But his warning was too late. There was the terrible sound of cracking and the ice split. A huge shelf ripped loose and tilted up. Snow and chunks of shattered ice cascaded down. Bahadin lost his balance and fell, but not before the great ivory tusks slashed into him, throwing him screaming over the edge. The Helmsman struck the dark water below and vanished at once. The walrus lurched and the ice shelf tipped, crashing back down, sealing forever the fate of Bahadin in the icy water. The shelf broke into pieces and the walrus waddled onto firmer footing.

In the shelter of the uptilted sledge Dione drew her dagger and started forward. But her father grabbed her. “No! You’d only be in the way!”

Farah added her protest to that of Dione, who was struggling to free herself. “But we cannot just stand by . . . !”

“Pray!” the old alchemist snapped. “Just pray to all the gods you’ve ever heard of!”

Dione still struggled. “If they need us, we must help!”

Sinbad let out a fearsome yell, something he had found that animals often reacted to. Although not afraid, the walrus hesitated, trying to evaluate this new menace. Sinbad ran in close, his arm cocked, and he threw the spear with all his might.

The point buried itself in the neck of the creature, which lurched back, bellowing. It turned and began running off, laboring and spurting blood. Somehow Sinbad’s spear had penetrated deep enough to sever an artery and the bellowing creature was hurt badly.

But the wound only made the walrus more angry. A sudden charge sent all the sailors running back. Sinbad grabbed a coil of rope and advanced again upon the huge animal. “The net,” he snapped to the remaining sailors. Maroof and Hassan spread the net between them and advanced in Sinbad’s wake.

The walrus turned toward Sinbad, roaring, and slithered and flopped over the rough ice blocks toward him. Sinbad shook out a loop of rope and swung it twice around his head before he threw. The rope looped around one of the creature’s long flippers. Sinbad ran to one side, out of the walrus’s direct charge, and dug in his heels to heave with all his might.

The rope slipped tight and the flipper was caught in the loop. The walrus lurched, hurling Sinbad in a wide arc, and he clung to the taut line of rope. Sinbad fell with a great explosion of breath, but he held on and dug in his feet again.

“Maroof!”

The big black sailor joined his captain and took the rope. “Keep him off balance if you can,” Sinbad said, and ran to join Hassan. With the net they advanced cautiously toward the walrus, who loomed over them almost as large as an elephant. The gray monster’s attention was split between the advancing humans and the constant tug on his flipper. He tried running toward Maroof, but the sailor ran faster, always keeping the line taut.

The great flashing tusks swept the air above Sinbad and Hassan and they dodged and slid around on the glassy-surfaced ice with the cargo net spread between them. They inched forward, then leapt back as the great tusks struck at them. They dodged and the ivory swords gouged furrows in the ice at their feet.

“Now!” Sinbad cried. “As high as you can! Now, Hassan—
now!”
They hurled the net into the air.

The web circled the plunging head of the monster walrus and Hassan pulled with all his strength on a corner of it. The walrus twisted his head, but only entangled himself and his long tusks in the netting. Sinbad shouted with joy and ran to the overturned sledge for an axe. Sinbad gripped the cold wooden handle of the axe and advanced toward the bellowing walrus, now caught between the tethered flipper and the encompassing net.

Farah, watching from behind the upended sledge, bit at her lip, then felt the ice give away beneath her. She jumped back, looking down. Dione, too, felt the ice cracking and they pulled Melanthius to his feet, then both scrambled for the baboon cage as the cracks continued to open in the ice.

“Sinbad!” Farah cried.

But the axe-bearing ship’s captain did not see her predicament. He swung the heavy axe over his head, striking at the monster’s eyes and face. The walrus roared in agony and pulled Hassan to his knees. Spurting blood stained the snow in a wide circle.

The wounded walrus, bellowing and snorting, gathered new strength. He twisted, throwing Hassan again and yanking Maroof onto his face. The walrus started for the hole in the ice where Bahadin had fallen in. Maroof cried out as the rope he was holding yanked him along, swinging him painfully around, for the line had caught his ankle in the twisting.

Hassan released the net as he tumbled into a crevice, but Sinbad saw Maroof’s situation and bounded over the blood-spattered ice blocks toward him. “Hold fast!” he shouted.

But the frantic, dying beast proved too much for Maroof as he grabbed at handholds that broke off in his fingers. The beast reached the hole in a final slither of ice and gushing blood and dropped in with a roar, splashing chill water in every direction. Sinbad skidded on the wet ice and fell, but his arm went out, bringing down the axe with one last desperate slash.