by Wilbur Smith
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 I 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.
Each day they pushed deeper into the south, and the determination of Meren and his men never wavered. One evening as they built the zareeba Taita led Meren aside and asked, ‘What make you of the mood of the men? It seems to me that they are near the end of their endurance, eager to turn northwards for Assoun and their homes. We may soon be faced with a mutiny.’ He had said it to test the other man, but Meren was outraged.
‘They are my men and I have come to know them well. It seems you have not, Magus. There is not a mutinous hair on their heads or breath in their lungs. They are as hot for the enterprise as I am.’
‘Forgive me, Meren. How could I doubt you?’ Taita murmured, but he had heard echoes of the witch’s voice rise from Meren’s throat. It is good that I need not deal with sullen faces and surly moods on top of all else.
In that Eos is making my lot easier, he consoled himself.
At that Fenn came running from the camp calling, ‘Magus! Taita! Come swiftly! The baby of Li-To-Liti is bursting out of her and I cannot get it back inside!’
‘Then I shall come and save the poor mite from your ministrations.’
Taita scrambled to his feet and hurried with her to the encampment.
With Taita kneeling beside the Shilluk girl, soothing her, the birth went swiftly. Fenn watched the process with horror. Each time Li-To-Liti squealed she started. In a pause between contractions, while the girl lay panting and drenched with sweat, Fenn said, ‘It does not seem such rich sport after all. I don’t think you and I should bother ourselves with it.’
Before midnight Li-To-Liti was delivered of an amber-coloured son with a cap of black curls. To Taita, the arrival of the child was some compensation for the profligate expenditure of other young lives along this bitter road. They all rejoiced with the father.
‘It is a good omen,’ the men told each other. ‘The gods smile upon us. From now onwards our venture will prosper.’
Taita sought the counsel of Nakonto. ‘What is the custom of your people? How long must the woman rest before she can go on?’
‘My first wife gave birth while we were moving cattle to new pasture. It was past noon when her waters broke. I left her with her mother to do the business beside the road. They caught up with me before nightfall, which was as well, because there were lions about.’
‘Your women are hardy,’ Taita remarked.
Nakonto looked mildly surprised. ‘They are Shilluk,’ he said.
‘That would explain it,’ Taita agreed.
The next morning Li-To-Liti slung her infant on her hip, where it could reach the breast without her having to dismount, and was up behind her man when the column pulled out at dawn.
They continued on through well-watered, grassy countryside. The sandy earth was gentle on the animals’ legs and hoofs. Taita treated any light injuries or ailments with his salves so they remained in fine condition.
There were endless herds of wild antelope and buffalo so there was never any shortage of meat. Days passed with such smooth regularity that they seemed to merge into one. The leagues fell away as vast distances opened ahead.
Then, at last, an escarpment of hills appeared on the misty blue horizon ahead of them. Over the following days it loomed larger until it seemed to fill half of the sky, and they could make out the deep notch in the high ground through which the Nile flowed. They headed directly for this, knowing that it would afford the easiest passage through the mountains. Closer still, they could see each feature of the heavily wooded slopes and the elephant roads that climbed them. At last Meren could no longer contain his impatience. He left the baggage train to make its own pace and took a small party forward to reconnoitre. Naturally Fenn went with them, riding beside Taita. They entered the gorge of the river and climbed up the rugged elephant road towards the summit of the escarpment. They were only half-way up when Nakonto ran forward and dropped on one knee to examine the ground.
‘What is it?’ Taita called. When he received no answer he rode forward and leant out from Windsmoke to discover what had intrigued the Shilluk.
‘The tracks of horses.’ Nakonto pointed to a patch of soft earth. ‘They are very fresh. Only one day old.’
‘Mountain zebra?’ Taita hazarded.
Nakonto shook his head emphatically.
‘Horses carrying riders,’ Fenn translated, for Meren’s sake.
He was alarmed. ‘Strange horsemen. Who can they be, so far from civilization? They may be hostile. We should not continue up the pass until we find out who they are.’ He looked back the way they had come.
On the plain below they could see the cloud of yellow dust the rest of the column had raised, still three or more leagues away. ‘We must wait for the others, then go forward in strength.’ Before Taita could reply a loud halloo rang down from the high ground above and echoed off the hills. It startled them all.
‘We have been discovered! But, by Seth’s pestilential breath, whoever they are they speak Egyptian,’ Meren exclaimed. He cupped his hands round his mouth and bellowed back up the pass, ‘Who are you?’
‘Soldiers of the divine Pharaoh Nefer Seti!’
‘Advance and be recognized,’ Meren called.
They laughed with relief as three strange horsemen came clattering down to meet them. Even at a distance Meren saw that one carried the blue standard of the House of Mamose, and as they came closer still their features were clearly Egyptian. Meren started forward to meet them. As the two parties came together they dismounted and embraced rapturously.
‘I am Captain Rabat,’ the leader introduced himself, ‘an officer in the legion of Colonel Ah-Akhton in the service of Pharaoh Nefer Seti.’
‘I am Colonel Meren Cambyses, on a special duty for the same divine pharaoh.’ Rabat acknowledged his superior ranking with a salute of one fist clenched across his breast. Meren went on, ‘And this is the magus, Taita of Gallala.’ True respect dawned in Rabat’s eyes and he saluted again. Taita saw from his aura that Rabat was man of limited intelligence, but honest and without guile.
‘Your fame precedes you, Magus. Please allow me to guide you to our encampment, where you will be our honoured guest.’
Rabat had ignored Fenn for she was a child, but she was conscious of the snub. ‘I don’t like this Rabat,’ Fenn told Taita in
Shilluk. ‘He is arrogant.’
Taita smiled. She had become accustomed to her favoured position.
In this she reminded him strongly of Lostris when she had been sovereign of Egypt. ‘He is only a rough soldier,’ he consoled her, ‘and beneath your consideration.’ Appeased, her expression softened.
‘What are your orders, Magus?’ Rabat asked.
‘The rest of our contingent follows with a large train of baggage.’ Taita pointed at the dustcloud on the plain. ‘Please send one of your men back to guide them.’ Rabat dispatched a man at once, then led the rest of them up the steep, rocky pathway towards the crest of the pass.
‘Where is Colonel Ah-Akhton, your commander?’ Taita asked, as he rode at Rabat’s side.
‘He died of the swamp-sickness during our advance up the river.’
‘That was seven years ago?’ Taita asked.
‘Nay, Magus. It was nine years and two months,’ Rabat corrected him, ‘the term of our exile from our beloved homeland, Egypt.’
Taita realized that he had forgotten to include the time it would have taken them to reach this place since leaving Karnak. ‘Who commands the army in Colonel Ah-Akhton’s place?’ he asked.
‘Colonel That Ankut.’
‘Where is he?’
‘He led the army southwards along the river in accordance with the command of Pharaoh. He left me here with only twenty men and some women, those with very young children who had been born during the march or those who were too sick or weak to continue.’
‘Why did Colonel That leave you here?’
‘I was ordered to plant crops, to keep a herd of horses ready for him, and to hold a base in his rear to which he could retire, if he were forced to retreat from the wild lands to the south.’
‘Have you had news of him since he marched away?’
‘Some months later he sent back three men with all of his surviving horses. It seems that he had journeyed into a country to the south that is infested with a fly whose sting is fatal to horses and he had lost almost all of his herd. Since those three arrived, we have had no word of him. He and his men have been swallowed up by the wilderness. That was many long years ago. You are the first civilized men we have met in all that time.’ He sounded forlorn.
‘You have not thought to abandon this place and take your people back to Egypt?’ Taita asked, to gauge his mettle.
‘I have thought on it,’ Rabat admitted, ‘but my orders and my duty are to hold this post.’ He hesitated, then went on, ‘Besides, the man-eating Chima and the great swamps stand between us and our very Egypt.’
Which is probably the most telling reason why you have remained at your post, Taita thought. As they talked they came out at the head of the pass and before them stretched a wide plateau. Almost at once they felt that the air of this high place was more pleasant than that on the plains below.
There were scattered herds of grazing cattle, and beyond them Taita was astonished to see the mud walls of a substantial military fort. It seemed out of place in this remote and savage landscape; the first sign of civilization they had come across since they had left the fort of Qebui more than two years previously. This was a lost outpost of empire of which no one in Egypt was aware.
‘What is the name of this place?’ Taita asked.
‘Colonel That called it Fort Adari.’
They rode among the grazing cattle, tall, rangy animals with huge humped shoulders and a wide spread of heavy horns. The coat of each had a distinctive colour and pattern, no two alike. They were red or white, black or yellow, with contrasting blotches and spots.
‘Where did you find these cattle?’ Taita asked. ‘I have seen none other like them.’
‘We trade them with the native tribes. They call them zebu. The herds provide us with milk and beef. Without them we would suffer even greater hardship than we do at present.’
Meren frowned and opened his mouth to reprimand Rabat for his lack of spirit, but Taita read his intention, and cautioned him with a quick shake of his head. Although Taita agreed with both Fenn and Meren on the fellow’s worth, it would not be of any benefit to them to offend him. Almost certainly, they would need his Co-operation later. The fields around the fort were planted with dhurra, melons and vegetable crops that Taita did not recognize. Rabat told them the outlandish native names, and dismounted to pick a large shiny black fruit, which he handed to Taita. ‘When cooked in a stew of meat they are tasty and nutritious.’
When they reached the fort the women and children of the garrison came out through the gates to welcome them, carrying bowls of soured milk and platters of dhurra cake. Altogether there were fewer than fifty and they were a bedraggled, sorry-looking lot, although they were friendly enough. Accommodation in the fort was limited. The women offered a small windowless cell to Taita and Fenn. The floor was of packed earth, ants moved in military file along the rough-hewn walls and shiny black cockroaches scurried into cracks in the log walls. The smell of the unwashed bodies and chamber-pots of the previous occupants was pervasive.
Rabat explained apologetically that Meren and the rest, officers and men alike, would have to bunk with his soldiers in the communal barracks. With expressions of gratitude and regret, Taita declined this offer of hospitality.
Taita and Meren chose a congenial site half a league beyond the fort, in a grove of shady trees on the banks of a running stream. Rabat, who was plainly relieved not to have them in the fort, honoured Meren’s Hawk Seal and provided them with fresh milk, dhurra and, at regular intervals, a slaughtered ox.
‘I hope we are not to stay long in this place,’ Hilto remarked to Taita, on the second day. ‘The mood of these people is so despondent that it will lower the morale of our men. Their spirits are high, and I would like them to remain so. Besides, all the women are married and most of our men have been celibate for too long. Soon they will want to sport with them and there will be trouble.’
‘I assure you, good Hilto, that we will move on as soon as we have made the arrangements.’ Taita and Meren spent the following days in close consultation with the melancholy Rabat.
‘How many men went south with Colonel That?’ Taita wanted to know.
Like many illiterates, Rabat had a reliable memory and he replied without hesitation: ‘Six hundred and twenty-three, with one hundred and forty-five women.’
‘Merciful Isis, was that all who remained of the original thousand who marched from Karnak?’
‘The swamps were trackless and deep,’ Rabat explained. ‘We were laid low with swamp-sickness. Our guides were unreliable and we were attacked by the native tribes. Our losses of men and horses were heavy. Surely you had the same experience, for you must have covered the same ground to reach Adari.’
‘Yes, indeed. However, the water was lower, and our guides faultless.’
‘Then you were more fortunate than ourselves.’
‘You said that Colonel That sent men and horses back here. How many horses were there?’ Taita switched to a more agreeable subject.
‘They brought back fifty-six, all fly-struck. Most died after reaching us. Only eighteen survived. Once they had delivered the horses, Colonel Tinat’s men went south again to rejoin him. They took with them the porters I had recruited for them.’
‘So none of Tinat’s men remains with you?’
‘One was so ill that I kept him here. He has survived to this day.’
‘I would like to question him,’ Taita told him.
‘I will send for him at once.’
The sole survivor was tall but skeletally thin. Taita saw at once that his emaciated frame and thin white hair were relics of disease, rather than signs of age. Despite this he had recovered his health. He was cheerful and willing, unlike most of the other men under Rabat’s command.
“I have heard of your ordeal,’ Taita told him, ‘and I commend your courage and zeal.’
‘You are the only one who has, Magus, and I thank you for it.’
‘What is your nam
e?’
‘Tolas.’
‘Your rank?’
‘I am a horse surgeon and a sergeant of the first water.’
‘How far had you ventured south before Colonel That sent you to bring back the surviving horses?’
‘About twenty days’ travel, Magus, perhaps two hundred leagues. Colonel That was determined to travel fast - too fast. I believe this increased our loss of horses.’
‘Why was he in such haste?’ Taita asked.
Tolas smiled thinly. ‘He did not confide in me, Magus, nor seek my counsel.’
Taita thought for a while. It seemed possible that That had come under the influence of the witch, and that she had enticed him southwards.
‘Then, good Tolas, tell me about the disease that attacked the horses. Captain Rabat mentioned it to me, but he gave no details. What makes you think that it was caused by these flies?’
‘It broke out ten days after we first encountered the insects. The horses began to sweat excessively and their eyes filled with blood so that they became half blind. Most died within ten or fifteen days of the first symptoms occurring.’
‘You are a horse surgeon. Do you know of any cure?’
Tolas hesitated, but did not answer the question. Instead he remarked, ‘I saw the grey mare you ride. I have seen many tens of thousands of horses in my lifetime, but I would think that mare is as good as the best of them. You might never find another like her.’
‘It is clear that you are a fine judge of horseflesh, Tolas, but why do you tell me this?’
‘Because it would be a shame to sacrifice such a horse to the fly. If you are determined to go on, as I think you are, leave the mare and her foal with me until you return. I will look after her as though she were my own child.’
‘I will think on it,’ Taita told him. ‘But to return to my question: do you know of any remedy for the fly sickness?’