Текст книги "The Quest"

Автор книги: Wilbur Smith

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From the beginning the new Shilluk wives, none of whom were much older than Fenn, had been fascinated by her. They discussed the colour of her hair and her eyes among themselves and watched her every move, but kept their distance. Finally Fenn made friendly advances and soon they were conversing happily in sign language, feeling the texture of Fenn's hair, squealing with laughter together at feminine jokes and bathing naked each evening in the shallow pools of the river. Fenn appealed to Nakonto for instruction, and picked up the Shilluk language as swiftly as she had Egyptian. In ways she was still a child, and Taita was pleased that she had convivial company closer to her own age to divert her. However, he made certain that she never wandered too far with the other girls. He kept her close so that he could rush to her aid at the first unnatural chill in the air or any other inkling of an alien presence. She and Taita took to speaking in Shilluk when there was a risk of being overlooked by their adversary.

'Perhaps it is one language that even the witch will not understand, though I doubt it,' he remarked. 'At the least it is good practice for you.'

They were deep into Chima territory when, at the end of a hard day's march, they built the zareeba in a grove of tall mahogany trees. Wide pastures of grass with fluffy pink heads surrounded it. The horses favoured this grazing and herds of antelope were already feeding there. It was clear that they had never been hunted, for they were so tame and confiding that they allowed the archers to approach within easy bowshot.

Meren declared that the following day they would rest, and early in the morning he sent out four hunting parties. When Taita and Fenn set off on their customary foraging expedition, Meren insisted that Shofar and two other troopers went with them: 'There is something in the wind that makes me uneasy,' was his only explanation.

Taita preferred to have Fenn to himself but he knew not to argue when Meren smelt something in the wind. He might not be a psychic but he was a warrior and could smell trouble. They returned to camp late in the afternoon to find that only three of the hunting parties Meren had sent out had returned before them. At first they were not alarmed, expecting the last band to return at any moment, but an hour after sunset a horse belonging to one of the missing hunters galloped into camp. It was lathered with sweat, and wounded in one shoulder. Meren ordered all the troopers to stand to arms, an extra guard on the horses, and bonfires to be lit to guide the missing hunters home.

At the first flush of dawn, when it was light enough to backtrack the wounded horse, Shabako and Hilto took out a heavily armed search party. Taita left Fenn in the care of Meren, and he and Nakonto rode out with them. Within a few leagues of the camp they rode under the outspread branches of a clump of silverleaf trees and came upon a grisly scene.

Nakonto, with his tracking skills and his knowledge of the Chima's habits, knew exactly what had taken place. A large band of men had concealed themselves among the trees and lain in ambush for the hunters. Nakonto picked up an ivory bracelet that one had dropped.

'This was made by a Chima. See how crude it is – a Shilluk child could have done better,' he told Taita. He pointed out the marks on the tree trunks where some of the Chima had climbed into the branches. 'This is the way the treacherous jackals like to fight, with stealthy cunning not courage.'

As the four Egyptian horsemen rode beneath the overhanging branches the Chima had dropped down upon them. At the same time their comrades had leapt out of hiding, and stabbed the horses. 'The Chima jackals pulled our men from their horses, probably before they could draw their weapons to defend themselves.' Nakonto pointed out the signs of the struggle. 'Here they speared them to death – see the blood on the grass.' Using plaited bark rope the Chima had hung the corpses by the heels from the low branches of the nearest silverleafs, and butchered them like antelope.

'They always eat the liver and entrails first,' Nakonto explained. 'Here

is where they shook the dung from the tripes before they cooked them on the coals of the fires.'

Then they had quartered the corpses and used bark rope to tie the severed limbs on to carrying poles. The feet, cut off at the ankle joints, were still hanging from the branches. They had thrown the heads and ¦ hands on to the fires, and when they were roasted, they had chewed off ™ the palms and sucked the flesh from the finger bones. They had split open the skulls to scoop out the baked brains with cupped fingers, then scraped off the cheeks and taken out the tongues, a great Chima delicacy.

The broken skulls and small bones were scattered all around. They had not bothered with the dead horses, probably because they were unable to deal with such a heavy load of meat. Then, with the physical remains, the clothing, weapons and other equipment of the troopers they had murdered, they had set off into the west, moving fast.

¦j'Shall we hunt them down?' Shabako demanded angrily. 'We cannot let this slaughter go unavenged.'

Nakonto was just as eager to take up the pursuit, his eyes shot with bloodlust. But after only a moment's thought Taita shook his head. 'There are thirty or forty of them and six of us. They have had a head start of almost a full day, and they will be expecting us to pursue them. They will lead us deeper into difficult territory and ambush us.' He looked around at the forest. 'Certainly they will have left men to spy on us. They are probably watching us at this moment.'

Some of the troopers drew their swords, but before they could rush among the trees and root them out, Taita stopped them. 'If we do not follow them, they will follow us, which is what we want. We will be able to lead them to a killing ground of our own choosing.' They buried the pathetic skulls with the severed feet, then returned to the zareeba.

Early the next morning they mustered into column and rode out again on the endless journey. At noon they broke the march to rest and water the horses. On Taita's orders, Nakonto slipped into the forest and made a wide circle through the trees. As stealthily as a shadow he cut the back trail of the column. The prints of three sets of bare feet were superimposed on the horse tracks. He made another wide circle to rejoin the column and report to Taita. 'Your eyes see far, old man. Three of the jackals are following us. As you foretold, the rest of the pack will not be far behind.'

That evening they sat late around the fire in the zareeba, laying plans for the morrow.

The next morning they started the march at a sharp trot. Within half

a league Meren ordered the pace increased to a canter. Swiftly they opened the gap between themselves and the Chima scouts whom they knew would be following. As they rode Meren and Taita were studying the terrain they were passing through, seeking ground that they could turn to their advantage. Ahead, a small isolated hillock rose above the forest and they angled towards it. Around its eastern slope they found a smooth, well-beaten elephant road. When they followed it they saw that the hillside above was steep, covered with a dense growth of kittar thornbush. The vicious hooks and densely intertwined branches formed an impenetrable wall. On the opposite side of the road the ground was level and, at first glance, the open forest seemed to afford little cover for an ambush. However, when Taita and Meren rode out a short distance among the trees they found a wadi, a dry gully cut out by storm water, that was deep and wide enough to hide their column, men and horses.

The lip of the gully was only forty yards from the elephant road, within easy bowshot. Quickly they rejoined the main column. They stayed on the elephant road for a short distance, then Meren stopped again to conceal three of his best archers beside the road.

'There are three Chima scouts following us. One for each of you,' he told them. 'Let them get close. Pick your shots. No mistakes. Quick, clean kills. You must not allow any of them to escape to warn the rest of the Chima, who are behind them.'

They left the three archers and rode on along the elephant road. After half a league they left it and made a wide circle back to the gully under the slope of the hill. They led the horses down into it, and dismounted.

Fenn and the Shilluk girls held the animals, ready to bring them forward when the troopers called for them. Taita waited with Fenn, but it would take him just an instant to run to Meren's side when the time came.

The men strung their bows, and lined up below the lip of the wadi facing the elephant road. At Meren's command they squatted down, out of sight, to rest their legs and bow-arms, and to prepare themselves for combat. Only Meren and his captains watched the road, but to conceal the silhouette of their heads they stood behind clumps of grass or bushes.

They did not have long to wait before the three Chima scouts came along the road. They had been running hard to keep up with the horses.

Their bodies shone with sweat, their chests heaved and their legs were dusty to the knees. Meren lifted a warning hand and none of the men stirred. The scouts passed the ambush at a rapid trot and disappeared along the road into the forest. Meren relaxed slightly. A little later the three archers he had left to take care of the scouts slipped out of the

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forest and dropped into the wadi. Meren looked at them questioningly.

The leader grinned and pointed to fresh splashes of blood on his tunic: the scouts had been accounted for. They all settled down to await the arrival of the main body of Chima.

A short time later, from the forest on the right flank, the querulous alarm call of the grey lory, 'Kee-wey! Kee-wey!' rang out. Then a baboon barked a challenge from the top of the hill. Meren lifted a fist as a signal to his men. They nocked their arrows on the bowstrings.

The leading file of the main Chima raiding party trotted round the curve in the elephant road. As they drew closer Meren studied them carefully. They were short, stocky and bow-legged, and wore only loincloths of tanned animal skins. Even when the entire band came into view it was difficult to make an accurate head count for they were bunched in a tight formation and moving fast.

'A hundred at least, maybe more. We are in for some rich sport, I warrant you,' Meren said, with anticipation. The Chima were armed with an assortment of clubs and flint-headed spears. The bows slung across their shoulders were small and primitive. Meren judged that they would not have the draw weight to kill a man at more than thirty paces. Then his eyes narrowed: one of the leaders carried an Egyptian sword slung over his shoulder. The man behind him wore a leather helmet, but of an archaic design. It was puzzling, but there was no time to ponder it now.

The head of the Chima formation came level with the white stone he had placed beside the road as a range marker. Now the entire left flank was exposed to the Egyptian archers.

Meren glanced left and right. The eyes of his men were fixed on him.

He dropped his raised right hand sharply, and his archers jumped upright.

As one man they drew their bows, paused to make good their aim, then loosed a silent cloud of arrows to arc high against the sky. Before the first struck home the second cloud rose into the air. The arrows fluted so softly that the Chima did not even look up. Then, with a sound like raindrops falling on the surface of a pond, they dropped among them.

The Chima did not seem to realize what was happening to them.

One stood gazing down, perplexed, at the shaft of the arrow protruding from between his ribs. Then his knees buckled and he crumpled to the ground. Another was staggering in small circles plucking at the arrow that had buried itself in his throat. Most of the others, even those who had received mortal wounds, did not seem to grasp that they had been hit.

When the third flight of arrows dropped among them those still on their feet panicked and bolted, screaming and howling, in every direction,

like a flock of guinea-fowl scattering under the stoop of an eagle. Some ran straight towards the wadi and the archers dropped their aim. At close range none of the arrows missed their mark: they struck deep into living flesh with meaty thumps. Some went right through the torso of the primary target, and flew on to wound the man behind him. Those who tried to escape up the hill ran into the palisade of kittar thorn bushes. It stopped them in their tracks, and forced them back into the hailstorm of arrows.

'Bring up the horses!' Meren yelled. Fenn and the other girls dragged them forward by the head ropes. Taita swung on to Windsmoke's back, while Meren and his men slung their bows and mounted.

'Forward! Charge!' Meren bellowed. 'Take the blade to them.' The horsemen bounded up the side of the wadi on to the level ground and, shoulder to shoulder, charged at the disordered rabble of Chima, who saw them coming and tried to turn back up the slope. They were caught between the thorn wall and the glittering bronze circle of swords. Some made no attempt to escape. They fell to their knees and covered their heads with their arms. The horsemen stood in the stirrups to stab them.

Others struggled in the thorns like fish in the folds of a net. The troopers cut them down as if they were firewood. By the time they had finished their grisly work, the slope and the ground below it were thickly strewn with bodies. Some Chima were writhing and groaning, but most lay still.

'Dismount,' Meren ordered. 'Finish the work.'

The troopers moved quickly over the field, stabbing any Chima who showed a spark of life. Meren spotted the man with the bronze sword still slung across his back. Three arrow shafts stood out of his chest.

Meren stooped over him to retrieve the sword, but at that instant Taita shouted, 'Meren! Behind you!' He used the voice of power, and Meren was galvanized. He leapt up and twisted aside. The Chima lying behind him had feigned death: he had waited until Meren was off-guard, then he jumped to his feet and swung at him with a heavy flint-headed club. The blow narrowly missed Meren's head but glanced off his left shoulder. Meren pivoted in close, blocking the weapon's next swing, and drove the point of his sword clean through the Chima, transfixing him from sternum to backbone. With a wrench of his wrist, he twisted the blade to open the wound, and when he jerked it clear, a great gush of heart blood followed it.

Clutching his damaged left shoulder Meren bellowed, 'Kill them all again! Make sure of them this time.'

Remembering their comrades hanging like sheep on slaughter racks,

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the troopers went to work with gusto, hacking and stabbing. They found a few Chima hiding in the kittar thickets and dragged them out, squealing like pigs, to the slaughter.

Only once he was certain of them would Meren allow his men to pick over the corpses and gather up their own spent arrows for reuse. He himself was the only casualty. Bare to the waist, he sat with his back to a tree-trunk while Taita examined his shoulder. There was no bleeding, but a dark bruise was spreading over it. Taita grunted with satisfaction.

'No bones broken. In six or seven days an old dog like you will be as good as new.' He anointed the shoulder with a salve, and twisted a linen bandage into a sling to hold the arm comfortably. Then he sat beside Meren as the captains brought the spoils they had gathered from the Chima dead, and laid everything out for them to examine. There were carved wooden lice combs, crude ivory trinkets, water gourds and packets of smoked meat, some still on the bone, wrapped in green leaves and tied with bark string. Taita examined it. 'Human. Almost certainly the remains of our comrades. Bury it with respect.'

Then they turned their attention to the Chima weapons, mostly clubs and spears with heads of flint or obsidian. The knife blades were of chipped flint, the handles wrapped with strips of uncured leather. 'Rubbish!

Not worth carrying away,' Meren said.

Taita nodded agreement. 'Throw it all on the fire.'

At last they examined the weapons and ornaments that were clearly not of Chima manufacture. Some had evidently been taken from the corpses of the four ambushed hunters – bronze weapons and recurve bows, leather helmets and padded jerkins, linen tunics and amulets of turquoise and lapis-lazuli. However, there were others of greater interest, well-worn old helmets and leather breastplates of a type that had not been used by Egyptian troops for decades. Then there was the sword that had almost cost Meren his life. Its blade was worn, the edges chipped and almost destroyed by rough sharpening against granite or some other rock. However, the hilt was finely worked and inlaid with silver. There were empty seatings from which precious stones had been prised or had dropped out. The engraved hieroglyphics were almost obliterated. Taita held it to the light and turned it from side to side, but he could not make out the characters. He called for Fenn: 'Use your sharp young eyes.'

She knelt beside him and pored over the engravings, then read out haltingly, 'I am Lotti, son of Lotti, Best of Ten Thousand, Companion of the Red Road, General and Commander in the guards of the divine Pharaoh Mamose. May he live for ever!'

'Lotti!' Taita exclaimed. 'I knew him well. He was second in command under Lord Aquer of the expedition that Queen Lostris sent from Ethiopia to discover the source of Mother Nile. He was a fine soldier.

So, it seems that he and his men reached at least as far as this place.'

'Did Lord Aquer and all the rest die here, and were they eaten by the Chima?' Meren wondered.

'No. According to Tiptip, the little priest of Hathor with six fingers, Aquer saw the volcano and the great lake. Besides, Queen Lostris placed a thousand men under his command. I doubt the Chima could have slaughtered them all,' Taita said. 'I believe that they caught off-guard a small detachment under Lotti as they did our men. But did the Chima destroy a whole Egyptian army? I think not.' While the discussion continued, Taita was surreptitiously watching Fenn's expression. Whenever the name of Queen Lostris was mentioned she frowned, as though seeking an elusive memory that was tucked away somewhere in the depths of her mind. One day it will all return to her, every memory of her other life, he thought, but he said aloud to Meren, 'We shall probably never know the truth of Lotti's fate, but his sword is proof to me that we are indeed following the trail to the south that Lord Aquer blazed so long ago. We have spent too much time here already.' He stood up.

'How soon can we move on?'

'The men are ready,' Meren said. They were cheerful as boys just released from study, sitting in the shade and joking with the Shilluk girls, who were serving them food and passing round jars of dhurra beer.

'Look at how eager they are. A good fight is better for their morale than a night with the prettiest whore in the Upper Kingdom.' He started to laugh, then broke off to rub his injured shoulder. 'The men are ready, but the day is almost done. The horses would profit from a short rest.'

'So will that shoulder of yours,' Taita agreed.

The sharp little fight seemed to have eliminated the threat of more Chima raids. Although they saw sign of their presence over the days that followed, none was of recent origin. Even these indications gradually became infrequent and eventually ceased. They passed out of the land of the Chima and rode on into uninhabited territory.

Although the Nile was still shrunken to a trickle, there had evidently been heavy rain in the surrounding countryside. The forest and savannah teemed with game, and grazing was abundant and rich. Taita had worried

that, by this time, the troopers would be homesick and depressed but they remained buoyant, their spirits high.

Fenn and the Shilluks delighted the men with their girlish pranks and high jinks. Two of the girls were pregnant, and Fenn wanted to know how they had come to this happy state; when questioned, the girls dissolved into paroxysms of laughter. Fenn was intrigued and came to Taita for elucidation. He made his explanation short and vague. She pondered it for a while. 'It sounds rich sport.' She had picked up the expression from Meren.

Taita tried to look grave but he could not prevent a smile. 'So I have heard,' he conceded.

'When I am grown, I should like a baby to play with,' she told him.

'No doubt you will.'

'We could have one together. Wouldn't that be rich sport, Taita?'

'To be sure,' he agreed, with a pang, knowing it could never be. 'But in the meantime we have many other important things to do.'

Taita could not remember having been so filled with well-being since those long-ago days when he had been young and Lostris was alive. He felt quicker and more lively. He did not tire nearly as easily as he had done before. He attributed this mostly to Fenn's company.

Her studies advanced so swiftly that he was forced to find other ways to keep her mind working at or near its potential. If he allowed her to slacken for even a short while, her attention wandered. By now she spoke both Shilluk and Egyptian fluently.

If she were ever to become an adept, she must learn the arcane language of the magi, the Tenmass. No other medium encompassed the entire body of esoteric learning. However, the Tenmass was so complex and multi-faceted, and had so little association with any other human language, that only those possessed of the highest intelligence and dedication could hope to master it.

It was a challenge that brought out the best in Fenn. At first she found it was like trying to scale a wall of polished glass that gave no purchase to hand or foot. Laboriously she climbed a little way, then, to her fury, lost her grip and slithered down. She picked herself up and tried again, each time more fiercely. She never despaired, even when it seemed she was making no progress. Taita was making her face the magnitude of the task: only then would she be ready to move on.

The moment came, but still he waited until they were alone on their sleeping mats at night. Then he placed his hand on her forehead and spoke to her quietly until she sank into a hypnotic trance. When she was

fully receptive, he could begin to plant the seeds of the Tenmass in her mind. He did not use the Egyptian language as the medium of instruction, but spoke directly to her in the Tenmass. It required many such nocturnal sessions before the seeds took tenuous hold. Like an infant standing for the first time, she took a few uncertain steps, then collapsed. The next time she stood more firmly and confidently. He was careful not to tax her too hard, but at the same time to keep her moving. Aware that the strain might stale her, and bend her spirit, he saw to it that they still spent enchanted hours at the boo board, or in easy but sparkling conversation, or wandering together in the forest in search of rare plants or other small treasures.

Whenever they passed a likely stretch of gravel in the riverbed, he unstrapped his prospecting pan from the back of his mule and they worked the gravel. While he swirled the slurry he had picked up, Fenn used her eyes and nimble fingers to pick out lovely semi-precious stones.

Many had been polished by the waters into fantastic shapes. When she had filled a bag, she showed them to Meren, who made her a bracelet with a matching anklet. One day, below a dried-up waterfall, she plucked a gold nugget the size of the first joint of her thumb from the pan. It sparkled in the sun and dazzled her. 'Fashion for me a jewel, Taita,' she demanded.

Although he had been able to hide it, Taita had felt twinges of jealousy when she wore the ornaments Meren had made for her. At my age?

He smiled at his folly. Like a lovelorn swain. Nevertheless, he devoted all his art and creative genius to the task she had set him. He used the silver from the hilt of Lotti's sword to make a thin chain and a setting from which he suspended the nugget. When it was done, he worked a spell into it to give it protective qualities over its wearer, then hung it round her neck. When she looked down at her image in a river pool her eyes filled with tears. 'It is so beautiful,' she whispered, 'and it feels warm on my skin, as though it were alive.' The warmth she had detected was the emanation of the power with which he had endowed it. It became her most prized possession, and she named it the Talisman of Taita.

The further south they travelled, the lighter and more buoyant the mood of the company became. All at once it struck Taita that there was something unnatural about it. It was true that the way was not as hazardous as it had been when they were lost in the great swamps or in the lands of the Chima, but they were far from home, the road was endless and the conditions arduous. There was no reason for their optimism and light-heartedness.

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In the fading light of day he was sitting beside a river pool with Fenn.

She was studying the trio of the elemental symbols of the Tenmass that he had drawn on her clay tablet. Each denoted a word of power. When they were conjugated they became so portentous and charged that they could be safely absorbed only into a mind that had been prepared carefully to receive them. Taita sat close to her, ready to protect her if the shock of the conjugation produced a backlash. Across the pool a giant black and white kingfisher, with a russet chest, was hovering over the water. It dived, but Fenn's concentration on the symbols was so intense that she did not glance up at the splash as the bird struck the surface, then rose with a flutter of wings and a small silver fish clamped in its long black bill.

Taita tried to analyse his own feelings more closely. There was only one good reason he could think of for his own euphoric state of mind: his love for and delight in the child at his side. On the other hand there were compelling reasons why he should be afraid for both their sakes. He was charged with a sacred duty to protect his pharaoh and his homeland.

He was travelling to a confrontation with a powerful evil force without any clear plan, a lone hare setting out to scotch a marauding leopard. All the chances were against him. Almost certainly the consequences would be dire. Why, then, was he doing so seemingly without any reckoning of the consequences?

Then he became aware that he was having difficulty in following even this simple line of reasoning. It was as though impediments were being placed deliberately in his way. He kept feeling a strong impulse to let it go and to lapse back into a complacent sense of well-being and trust in his own ability to overcome obstacles as he encountered them, without having any coherent plan. It is a dangerous and reckless state of mind, he thought, then laughed aloud as though it were a joke.

He had disrupted Fenn's concentration: she looked up and frowned.

'What is it, Taita?' she demanded. 'You warned me that it was dangerous to become distracted when I was attempting to conjugate the rational coefficients of the symbols.'

Her words brought him up sharply, and Taita realized how grievously he had erred. 'You are right. Forgive me.' She looked down again at the clay tablet in her lap. Taita tried to focus on the problem, but it remained hazy and unimportant. He bit hard into his lip, and tasted blood. The sharp pain sobered him. With an effort, he was able to concentrate.

There was something he must remember. He tried to grasp it, but it remained a shadow. He reached for it again, but it dissolved before he

could catch it. Beside him Fenn stirred again and sighed. Then she looked up and set aside the clay tablet. 'I cannot concentrate. I can feel your distress. Something is blocking you.' She stared at him with those candid green eyes, then whispered, 'I can see it now. It is the witch in the pool.'

Quickly she removed the nugget from round her neck and placed it in her palm. She held out both of her hands. Taita placed the Periapt of Lostris in his own palm. Then they linked hands and formed the circle of protection. Almost imperceptibly he felt the alien influence recede.

The words that had troubled him jumped into his mind. He had been trying to remember the warning of Demeter: She has already infected you with her evil. She has begun to bind you with her spells and temptations. She will twist your judgement. Soon you will begin to doubt that she is evil. She will seem to you fine, noble and as virtuous as any person who ever lived. Soon it will seem that 1 am the evil one who has poisoned your mind against her. When that happens she will have divided us and I will be destroyed. You will surrender yourself to her freely and willingly. She will have triumphed over both of us.

They sat together in the protective circle until Taita had thrown off the enervating influence of Eos. He was amazed by the support Fenn rendered him. He could feel the strength flowing from her soft little hands into his own gnarled and knotted ones. They had shared more than one life span, and together they had built a fortress of the spirit within walls of marble and granite.

Darkness fell swiftly and bats flitted over the pool, wheeling and swooping on the insects that rose from the surface of the water. On the opposite bank of the river a hyena whooped mournfully. Still holding Fenn's hand, Taita raised her to her feet and led her up the bank to the zareeba.

Meren greeted them. 'I was about to send out a search party to find you,' he called cheerfully.

Later Taita sat with him and his officers at the campfire. They, too, were cheerful, and he could hear the laughter and the banter from the men at the far end of the enclosure. Once in a while Taita thought to sober them with a warning, but he let them be: They also are marching to the siren song of Eos, but I will let them go happily where they must go anyway. As long as I can hold firm, there will be time anon to recall them to their senses.