Sinbad and The Eye of the Tiger by John Ryder Hall Read Free Book Online Page A

Caliph forever!” Her hand went up and a ringed finger pointed at the sky. “That is the law!”
    Farah shouted at her from Sinbad’s arms. “And that is why you bewitched him! You want your son, Rafi, to be Caliph!”
    Zenobia smiled in contempt, raising her chin and slitting her eyes. “Let me go,” Farah said angrily, still struggling. “Let me cut the smile from her face!”
    Balsora waved his hands at her, seeking to calm her. “Farah, my child! You will bring an eternal curse on all our heads if you draw one drop of blood of any relation of the Royal Family . . .”
    Farah shook her head angrily. “It is only for that she has not murdered Kassim!” She fought Sinbad’s muscles as hard as ever, her anger giving her strength. “She’s as cunning as a snake! As malicious as a shark!” Her eyes flashed fire. “But Rafi will never be Caliph!”
    “There is no one to prevent it!” Zenobia said archly.
    Farah snorted and blurted out triumphantly, “Melanthius will prevent it!”
    There was a stunned silence as Farah inadvertently let slip the name and Zenobia’s sudden shift of mood brought them all to even more fearful alertness. Her eyes slitted as they burned anger at Farah. After a moment she spoke, but there was a worried undertone to her voice.
    “Melanthius is a myth and his powers are a legend,” she said. “He does not exist.”
    Sinbad spoke up, his first encouragement being Zenobia’s sudden and obvious doubt. “We shall soon discover if the myth and the legend exist.” He raised his voice to his crew. “We sail tonight!”
    Balsora and Farah broke into smiles and the princess stopped struggling. She changed her struggles into an embrace.
    “O my beloved! May your days always be blessed!”
    Aboo-seer spoke to Hassan under his breath. “And now his nights, too.”
    Zenobia’s voice was as hard as splintered stone. “Sail for Rhodes or Tripoli, Captain,” she warned. “You’ll find richer cargo there. Don’t meddle in this affair. You will find yourself in dangerous waters!” Her feline gaze swept over Sinbad, then she bore into him with the force of her personality, trying to impress him with the force of her will. “Cargoes are richer elsewhere, Captain, and the women generous.” She smiled knowingly. “Tripoli . . . a sailor’s paradise! Sail for Casgar . . .” She paused, her eyes hot upon him, menace growing in her throaty voice. “Sail in search of Melanthius and you will be setting a course for Hell and Damnation!”
    Sinbad’s face was determined. “Danger is an everyday risk for a sailor.” Sinbad gave her a thin smile. “Our course is set.”
    Zenobia gave Sinbad a long and intense stare, her eyes narrowing, increasing the naturally feline quality of her expression. Then abruptly she turned and strode to the gangplank, crossing it in a flurry of black skirts. She rejoined her escort of beautiful women and without a word they left the quay.
    The horses of Balsora’s escort whinnied and shied at the sight of Queen Zenobia’s escort. A horse reared and backed into another horse, which staggered sideways. Both riders cursed and fought to control the animals, who were terrified by the scent of Zenobia’s caravan.
    The trailing cloaks of the Nubian women stirred up clouds of dust that clogged the nostrils, mixing with the salt of the sea, the frightened sweat of the prancing horses, the faint odor of fish and dung. Sinbad watched the haughty, silent cavalcade of black women, lead by the elegant Zenobia, until they disappeared over the first rise. His eyes were speculative and his fingers still toyed with the hilt of his sword.
    Sinbad turned toward his crew. “Aboo-seer! Hassan! Bahadin! Prepare the ship for sea!” He turned to the princess and the Vizier, his voice hard with authority and determination. “Order your men to bring aboard the treasure for Melanthius,” he said to Balsora. “We sail for Casgar at the turn of the tide.” He raised a warning hand.