Daggers in the Dark (Book 3 of Hanthalah)

Chapter 1

"Uh...Land?" he stuttered. The boy intimidated many grown men, but it put a smile to my face seeing him cower away from me. He required a measure of discipline.

"Yes, boy," I shifted my smile to the horizon, where the walls of the fortress were emerging from the thick mists. "Land. Cyprus."

***

"Shields!" I bellowed, as the ship tossed and swayed near the harbor of the port city. I raised my own and crouched, bracing myself against the churning of the sea and the crashing of waves that threatened to topple me over.

"Ram the bastards!" 'Abdullah ibn Sa'd ibn Abu Sarh swayed sideways though he managed to cling to the rail. "Ram! Ram! Ram!"

"Someone shut the moron up." I grumbled to myself.

Ibn Abu Sarh was the new governor of Egypt, replacing 'Amr ibn al-'Aas, whom I had served under during the conquest of the province.

'Abdullah ibn Abu Sarh was the Khalifa's milk brother – breastfed by the same woman – and therefore, considered as close as kin, indistinguishable from a true brother bound by flesh and blood. He was the man responsible for the construction of this fleet, and the superior officer of the assault. Only in name, of course. It was Mu'awiyah and his generals coordinating the entire thing.

Generals that included yours truly.

A swarm of arrows clouded the sky above, freezing in the air for a heartbeat, as if contemplating whether to tumble down or remain as is. They chose the former.

The arrows of the Romans rained down heavily upon us. A dozen or so thumped against my shield, crashing against the wood like thunder, almost overwhelming with its added weight. It forced me to take a step backward, but I grit my teeth and weathered the storm.

"Ram!" ibn Abu Sarh pointed at the docked Roman ships imbued with archers on deck. No one moved a muscle to obey his command.

I shoved ibn Abu Sarh aside and took up my own bellow.

"Piruzan! Have two ships flank us on the right, and two others on the left. I'll see to it that three more engage with the Roman ships."

I spun and addressed the oarsmen on both sides of the ship.

"Abandon oars and prop your bows. Await further commands. This is going to be a bloodbath!"

My words sparked a bustling presence in the ship's crew and those of the other ships. My vision was fulfilled, as we were flanked on either side with two ships, while three others prepared to meet the Roman ships of equal number at the foot of the fort head on. We would offer support from a distance, raining down a barrage of arrows and javelins upon the outnumbered Romans.

The fort itself was a crude construction built upon the shores of the city they called Salamis. A simple wooden palisade and a fighting platform atop where more defenders hefted their bows and readied themselves for the onslaught.

Once we dispose of the Roman ships in the harbor, we would lay siege to Salamis, isolating it in the sea with our fleet and on land with an army. The land army had traveled with us aboard ships, but they hopped off onto the shores of Cyprus some yards south in order to coordinate the attack.

But there was something amiss. There were only three Roman ships at the harbor, and they did not seem particularly densely packed. Surely, they were not warned of our attack in time to spring an ambush. The situation seemed hopeless for the Romans. Nothing could be this easy. Other than the five Muslim ships engaging at Salamis now, there were five more trailing behind. Ibn Abu Sarh did not risk his entire fleet on this expedition, and so resources were precious.

Our ship heaved and 'Abd al-Ka'aba clung to me in order to regain balance. I growled at my son and shoved him aside. He lost his footing and was sent sprawling across the deck.

"Nock!" I barked, as the three ships lurched into motion, drawing closer to the Roman vessels. The commanders on the flanking ships echoed my commands.

"Draw!"

There was an uneasiness to the air, and it wasn't because our lives were at stake. My life was threatened the moment the first Muslim set foot in Yathrib. Impending peril is a sensation you get used to, eventually.

The uneasiness came from the feeling that we were being watched. We were shrouded in mist on all sides but that of land. My eyes searched for anything creeping toward us, but I was only met with the dense fog.

"Loose!" I finally bellowed, as the first of the ships rammed headfirst into a Roman vessel. There was a deafening crashing sound as wood pounded on shattering wood, followed by the compounded twangs of hundreds of arrows evacuating bowstrings.

The ships beyond crashed into one another time and again, the roaring and thundering of colliding wood and disturbed waves alike resembling the vexation of wild beasts. The Romans on the fort's ramparts showered the fighting men with their own barrage of projectiles, but our own assault was backed up by sheer numbers and force of will. The tide of the battle was definitely on our side.

But then the first of the ships ripped through the fog.

I knew we had fallen into a trap. The Romans had been warned of our approach. More ships began creeping out of the mists, waves parting before their prows as they rushed forward in hot pursuit of shattering our flank, relieving the struggling defenders at the harbor.

"Ships from the west!" I cupped my hands, calling out to the commanders of the ships flanking our right. My suspicions had motivated me to shield our own ship from any potential ambush by surrounding us with others. The men would become demoralized should the likes of Mu'awiyah and ibn Abu Sarh meet their demise. "Steer aside! Brace yourselves!"

The men to our right flank were becoming aware of the looming threat emerging from the western mists and were beginning to abandon their bows and javelins in favor of oar and bench once more. There were two ships between us and encroaching enemy, and another two primed for action should we need support. All was not lost.

Yet, more enemy ships were emerging from the mists, as though spilling out from an endless stream. I counted four so far, and still more emerging.

"It seems our advantage in numbers was but an illusion," Mu'awiyah said in a surprisingly calm manner at my side.

I nodded, raising my shield, never lowering my guard as my mind raced with infinite possibilities.

"We only need to hold them off. For as long as possible," I answered.

Mu'awiyah nodded in turn. "We only need to wait them out, yes. Until our ships that are lagging behind catch up to us."

I favored him with a perplexed look. "You seem awfully blissful for a man caught in the midst of a potential massacre."

Mu'awiyah smiled, fixing his dark eyes on my face.

"I suppose I trust the capabilities of my generals," he clasped his hands behind his back and resumed spectating the melee at the harbor. The men there had leapt from their ships to those of the enemy, engaging in hand to hand combat.

Meanwhile to our west, the first of the relieving fleet crashed into the prow of one of our own. The damage would have been insurmountable had they not successfully rotated in time.

Now was the time for slaughter.