by Wilbur Smith
The man who had accosted him was of one of the citadel guards, a burly middle-aged sergeant in full uniform. He had drawn his sword and was striding towards Taita with a belligerent scowl.
‘Who are you?’ he shouted again. ‘You have the look of a dirty, thieving rascal to me.’
‘Peace, friend.’ Still smiling, Taita held up both hands in a placatory gesture. ‘I carry an urgent message for Colonel Onka.’
‘The Colonel has left already.’ The sergeant held out his left hand.
‘Give the message to me, if you are not lying and you truly have one. I will see it gets to him.’
Taita pretended to grope in his pouch, but as the man came closer, he seized his wrist and pulled him off balance. Instinctively the sergeant pulled back with all his weight. Instead of resisting Taita went with him and used the impetus to crash with both elbows into his chest. With a shout of surprise the man lost his balance and went over backwards.
Quick as a leopard, Taita landed on top of him and drove the ball of his right hand up under his chin. The vertebrae of the sergeant’s neck parted with a loud crack, killing him instantly.
Taita knelt beside him and began to untie his helmet, intending to use his uniform as a disguise, but before he could get the helmet off his head there was another shout and two more guards rushed down the corridor towards him with drawn swords. Taita pried the blade out of the dead man’s hand, and sprang to his feet to face his attackers.
He hefted the sword in his right hand. It was a heavy infantry model but it felt familiar and comfortable in his grip. Many years ago he had written the manual of arms for Pharaoh’s regiments, and swordsmanship was one of his passionate interests. Since then age had taken from him the force of his right arm, but now it was restored to him, as was his agility and fleetness of foot. He parried the thrust of the first assailant and ducked under the cut of the second. Keeping low, he slashed at the back of the man’s ankle, neatly severing his Achilles tendon. Then he jumped up and pirouetted unexpectedly between the two before either could recover. The unwounded man turned to follow him, but as he did so he opened his flank and Taita stabbed deep in his armpit, sliding the point of his blade between the ribs. With a twist of his wrist, he turned it in the wound, opening it wide and freeing it from the suction of wet flesh. His victim dropped to his knees coughing up gouts of blood from pierced lungs. Taita spun away to face the trooper he had crippled.
The man’s eyes filled with terror and he tried to back away but his maimed foot flopped nervelessly, and he almost fell. Taita feinted for his face and, when he raised his guard to protect his eyes, sent a thrust into his belly, cleared his blade and jumped back. The man dropped his weapon and fell to his knees. Taita stepped forward again and stabbed down into the back of his neck, under the rim of his helmet. The trooper dropped face down and lay still.
Taita jumped over the two corpses and went to the first man he had killed. Unlike the others, his uniform was not bloodstained. Swiftly he stripped off the man’s sandals and laced them on to his own bare feet.
They were a tolerable fit. He strapped the sword belt and scabbard round his waist, then took the helmet and cloak and pulled them on as he ran for the rear doors of the citadel. He slowed to a walk as he reached them and spread the scarlet cloak to cover his torn, soiled tunic. As he marched towards the doors he sent out an impulse to lull the minds of the sentries who guarded them. They glanced at him with little interest as he passed between them and went down the marble steps into the courtyard.
The parade-ground was bustling with the men and horses of Onka’s regiment preparing for campaign. Taita saw Onka himself strutting about and shouting orders to his captains. He mingled with the throng and passed close to Onka as he made his way towards the stables. Although Onka glanced in his direction he showed no sign of recognition.
Taita reached the stableyard without being accosted. Here, there was the same furious activity. The farriers were reshoeing the horses, the armourers were busy at the grindstones sharpening arrowheads and blades, and the grooms were saddling the officers’ mounts. Taita thought of attempting to steal a horse from the lines, but he realized there was almost no hope of that plan succeeding. Instead he made his way towards the back wall of the palace compound.
The stench guided him to the latrines tucked behind the buildings.
When he found them he looked around carefully to make sure he was unobserved. A sentry was patrolling the top of the walls above him, so he waited for the diversion he knew must come. It was not long before he heard angry shouts from the direction of the citadel. Whistles bleated and a dnimbeat signalled the call to arms. The three bodies he had left in the passage had been discovered, and the attention of the garrison was focused on the citadel. The sentry rushed to the far end of the parapet from where he stared out over the parade-ground to find the reason for the alarm. His back was turned.
Taita swung himself up on to the flat roof of the latrines. From there the top of the wall was within reach. He took a run and leapt for the lip of the parapet, then he pulled himself up with both arms until he could throw a leg over. He rolled across the top of the wall and dropped over the far side. It was a long fall, but he rode the shock of landing with braced legs and glanced round swiftly. The sentry was still gazing away from him. The edge of the forest was close by and he darted across the open ground into the trees. Here he took a minute to orient himself, then began the steep climb into the foothills, using the cover of gullies, long grass and shrubs to hide himself from a chance watcher below.
When he reached the crest of the hill he peered over it cautiously. The road that led up to the Cloud Gardens was just beneath him. It was deserted. He ran down, crossed it quickly and took cover in a patch of scrub. From there he could see across to the horse’s head grove of trees on the next promontory. He bounded down the slope into the valley, the loose stones rolling under his feet, and reached the bottom without losing his balance. He trotted along the base of the hill and came to an opening. The valley sides were steep and he went a short distance into it, then turned and climbed to a vantage-point from where he could watch the entrance and settled down to wait.
The sun reached its zenith, then began to drop towards the horizon.
He saw dust on the road across the valley. It looked as though a large troop of cavalry was riding hard towards the east. An hour or so passed, and then he heard the faint sound of hoofs coming closer. He sat up, alert. A small band of riders appeared below him and stopped.
Sidudu was at the front, mounted on a chestnut pony. She pointed up the valley towards where Taita was hiding. Meren spurred past her and took the lead. The party came on at a trot, Meren followed closely by a lovely young woman on a grey colt. Her long legs were bare and her blonde hair was tumbled by the wind on to her shoulders. She was slim, the set of her shoulders proud. Even from this distance Taita could see her breasts standing out under the bleached linen of her tunic. The wind flicked aside her golden curls to reveal her face, and Taita drew a sharp breath. It was Fenn, but a different Fenn from the girl he had known and loved. This was a confident, poised young woman in the first flower of her beauty.
Fenn was riding her grey colt and she had Windsmoke on a lead rein behind her. Hilto rode at her right hand. Nakonto and Imbali followed them closely, both mounted and sitting their horses well — they had learnt new skills in the many months he had been away. Taita left the ledge on which he squatted and scrambled down the cliff. He jumped out and dropped down the last steep pitch. The scarlet cloak opened round him like a pair of wings, but the visor of the leather helmet obscured the top half of his face. He landed in the path directly before Meren.
With the reflexes of a trained warrior, Meren saw the Jarrian uniform and rode at him with an intimidating yell, drawing his sword and swinging it high. Taita had only just enough time to straighten and draw his own weapon. Meren leant from the saddle and hacked at his head.
Taita turned the blow with his blade and
jumped aside. Meren pulled his horse down on its haunches and dragged its head round. Then he came back at the charge. Taita ripped the helmet off his head and threw it aside. ‘Meren! It is Taita,’ he yelled.
‘You lie! You are nothing like the magus!’ Meren did not check his charge. He leant out from the saddle and levelled his blade, sighting along it at the centre of Taita’s chest. At the last moment Taita swayed aside and the point of the sword grazed his shoulder as Meren swept past.
Taita shouted at Fenn as she rode forward. ‘Fenn! It is me. Taita.’
‘No! No! You are not Taita! What have you done with him?’ she screamed. Meren was gathering his mount under him, bringing its head round for his next attack. Nakonto had his throwing spear resting on his shoulder and was ready to hurl it as soon as he had a clear view past Meren. Imbali jumped down from her horse and hefted her battleaxe as she ran forward. Hilto followed her with drawn sword. Both Fenn and Sidudu were nocking arrows to their bows.
Fenn’s eyes glittered like emeralds in her anger. ‘You have done away with him, you villain!’ she yelled. ‘You shall have an arrow through your black heart.’
‘Fenn! Behold my spirit sign!’ Taita called urgently, in the Tenmass.
Her chin jerked up. Then she saw the sign of the wounded falcon floating above his head and blanched with shock. ‘Nay! Nay! It is him! It is Taita! Put up your sword, I tell you! Put it up, Meren!’ Meren swerved, then reined his mount back.
Fenn sprang down from Whirlwind and raced to Taita. She flung both her arms round his neck and sobbed brokenheartedly. ‘Oh! Oh! Oh! I thought you were dead. I thought they had killed you.’
Taita held her tightly to his chest, her body lithe and hard against his.
The sweet smell of her filled his nostrils and made his senses swim. His heart swelled in his chest so that he was unable to speak. They held each other with a silent intensity, while the others stared at them in bewilderment.
Hilto tried to maintain his usual phlegmatic air, but he was unsuccessful. Nakonto and Imbali were mute with the fear of witchcraft, both spitting to left and right, making the sign against evil spirits.
‘It’s not him,’ Meren was repeating. ‘I know the magus better than any man alive. This young buck is not him.’
After a long while Fenn drew back and held Taita at arm’s length.
She studied his face raptly, then stared into his eyes. ‘My eyes tell me it is not you, but my heart sings that it is. Yes, it is you. It is verily you. But, my lord, how have you become so young and surpassingly beautiful?’
She stood on tiptoe to kiss his lips. At this the others burst out laughing.
Meren jumped down from the saddle and rushed to join them. He pulled Taita out of Fenn’s embrace and wrapped him in a bear-hug of his own. ‘I still cannot believe it! It is not possible!’ He laughed. ‘But I give testimony that you wield a pretty sword, Magus, else I would have run you through.’ They crowded round him excitedly.
Sidudu came to kneel before him. ‘I owe you so much, Magus. I am so glad to see you safe. Before you were beautiful of spirit, but now you are beautiful in the flesh too.’
Even Nakonto and Imbali at last conquered their superstitious dread and came to touch him in awe.
Hilto exclaimed loudly, ‘I did not doubt for a second that you would come back to us. I knew it was you the instant I laid eyes on you.’ No one took any notice of this blatant falsehood.
Meren demanded answers to twenty different questions and Fenn clung to his right arm and gazed into his face with shining eyes.
At last Taita recalled them to stark reality: ‘There will be time for this later. All you need to know now is that Eos can harm neither us nor our very Egypt again.’ He whistled for Windsmoke, who rolled her eyes at him coquettishly and came to nuzzle his neck. ‘You at least recognize me, my darling.’ He hugged her round the neck, then looked again to Meren.
‘Where is That?’
‘Magus, he is already on the march for the Kitangule river. The Jarrians have discovered our plans. We must ride at once.’
By the time they had left the valley and started towards the plain, the sun was setting. It was dark when they entered the forest and, once again, Sidudu was their guide. Taita checked her heading by the stars and found that her knowledge of the land and her sense of direction were infallible. He could devote all of his attention to Fenn and Meren.
The three rode side by side with Taita in the middle, their stirrups touching, while Fenn and Meren described to him all that had transpired while they were apart.
Then Taita told them, ‘While I was in the palace I was able to eavesdrop on Aquer’s battle council. He is taking command of the army himself. His scouts have reported the movement of the main body of our people along the road towards the east. He has deduced that That is trying to reach the shipyards at the head of the Kitangule river and seize the boats there, for he knows that our only escape from Jarri is down that river. Tell me where exactly That is now and how many are with him.”
‘He has about nine hundred people, but many of the men are sick and weak from the treatment to which they were subjected in the mines. He has only a few more than three hundred who can fight. The rest are women and children.’
‘Three hundred!’ Taita exclaimed. ‘Aquer has five thousand trained warriors. If he catches That it will go hard with him.’
‘Worse, That is short of horses. Some of the children are very young. With them and all the sick, he is moving slowly.’
‘He must send a small band of fighting men ahead with all speed to seize the boats. In the meantime we must delay Aquer,’ Taita said grimly.
‘That hopes to give him pause at the Kitangule Gap. Fifty men can hold an army there, at least until the women and the sick are on the boats,’ said Meren.
‘Don’t forget that Aquer has scouts who know the country as well as Sidudu does,’ Taita reminded him. ‘They will certainly know of the other route to bypass the gap and reach the boatyards. Instead of waiting for him to come at us, we should strike at him before he expects it.’ Meren had glanced at Sidudu as Taita mentioned her name. Even in the moonlight his expression was doting. Poor Meren, the famous philanderer, is smitten, Taita thought, and smiled inwardly, but he said, ‘We will need more men than we have now if we are to hold Aquer. I will stay to watch the road for him. Meren, you must take Fenn with you and ride as fast as you can to find Tinat—’
‘I will not leave you!’ Fenn cried. ‘I have come so close to losing you that I will never leave you again.’
‘I am not a messenger, Magus. You owe me more respect than to treat me as one. Like Fenn, I will stay with you. Send Hilto,’ Meren declared.
Taita made a gesture of resignation. ‘Will no one take an order from me without argument?’ he demanded of the night sky.
‘Probably not,’ Fenn answered primly, ‘but you might try speaking gently to Hilto.’
Taita capitulated and called Hilto forward. ‘Ride ahead at first light as fast as your horse will carry you. Find Colonel That Ankut and say that I have sent you. Tell him that Aquer knows we are aiming for the Kitangule river, and is in hot pursuit. That must send a small detachment of fighting men ahead to seize the boats at the headwaters of the river before the Jarrians can destroy them. Tell him his plan to hold the Kitangule Gap until all our people have been embarked is a good one, but he must send me twenty of his best men. This is desperately urgent. Hilto, you must lead the men he gives you back along the east road towards Mutangi until you find us. Go now! At once!’ Hilto saluted and, without another word, cantered away.
‘What we need is an ambuscade where we can wait for Aquer.’ Taita turned back to Meren. ‘You know precisely the kind of place we are looking for. Ask Sidudu if she knows of one.’ Meren spurred forward to Sidudu, who listened intently to his request.
‘I know just such a place,’ she said, as soon as he had finished speaking.
‘You are such a clever girl,’ Meren told her proud
ly, and for a moment the two of them were lost in each other’s eyes.
‘Come, then, Sidudu,’ Taita called. ‘Show us if you are truly as clever as Meren declares you are.’
Sidudu led them off the track they had been following and turned towards the great starry cross in the southern sky. Within an hour’s ride she had reined in at the top of a low, wooded hill and, in the moonlight, pointed down at the valley that opened before them.
‘There is the ford of the Ishasa river. You can see the glint of the water. The road that Lord Aquer must follow to reach the Kitangule Gap crosses there. The water is deep so their horses will have to swim. From the top of the cliff we can shower arrows and rocks on them once they enter the water. They will have to ride forty leagues downstream to find another ford.’
Taita studied the crossing carefully, and nodded. ‘I doubt that we will find a better place.’
‘I told you,’ said Meren. ‘She has a warrior’s eye for good ground.’
‘You carry a bow, Sidudu.’ Taita nodded at the weapon that hung over her shoulder. ‘Can you use it?’
‘Fenn taught me,’ Sidudu replied simply.
‘During your absence Sidudu has become an expert archer,’ Meren confirmed.
‘It seems there is no end to the virtues of this young paragon,’ Taita said. ‘We are fortunate to have her with us.’
They swam the horses through the ford, whose current was strong.
Once they reached the eastern bank they saw that the path followed a narrow, rocky defile between the cliffs. It was only wide enough for horses to pass in single file. Taita and Meren climbed it and from there surveyed the ground below.
‘Yes,’ Taita said. ‘This will do.’
Before he allowed them to rest, he went over his plans for the ambush and made each in turn repeat the role he had assigned to them. Only then did he allow them to unsaddle and hobble the horses, fill their nosebags with crushed dhurra meal and turn them loose.