The Sacred Lake (Shioni of Sheba Book 4)
Page 5
“Then don’t get yourself stuck in battles in the first place, my Lady.”
“That’s what I have you for. And–in which corner of Sheba do you think this bunch of over-muscled babysitters would let me?”
There, back to the Annakiya she knew! “I tell you what,” she replied. “I’ll let you fight battles, if you learn how to scrub pots in Mama Nomuula’s kitchen.”
Annakiya pulled a silly face. “I think I’d rather fight the battles, Shioni.”
“I’d rather sit around all day reading scrolls and having my hair pulled into shuruba braids.”
A different face followed the first. “That’ll be the day Captain Dabir has to lick dung off your boots, Shioni.”
“Don’t remind me. Anni, the General’s cooking duck tonight. You’re invited.”
“And what about the mighty ferengi hunter?”
“I’m invited, too.”
The General’s cooking was excellent, to Shioni’s surprise, and they enjoyed a fine evening with him, Captain Yirgu, and the three leaders of the group of merchants. Azurelle refused to attend or even listen somewhere inside the tent, sniffing, “You blood-sucking, meat guzzling carnivores won’t catch me near your vile vulture-feast.”
For once, Annakiya dropped on her bedroll without pausing to read five scrolls first. This was so out of character that even Zi stopped playing the hurt and ignored friend and instead, hustled over to the Princess. “What’s the matter with you?” she asked.
Well, that did not exclude striking a pose on the pillow-roll, Shioni noticed. She adjusted the lamp someone must have lit for them, and moved over to her own place, right next to Annakiya’s straw mattress in the cosy tent.
“I’m fine,” said Annakiya. “Just bushwhacked after whacking bushes all day.”
“Oh, you did a lot of that,” Shioni put in.
The Princess was not fooled by her smile. “Sorry I shouted at you earlier, Shioni. I was being mean. But … can I tell you what Zi and I have been discussing?”
“Hiding you,” said Zi, before Shioni could even nod.
“Hiding me? Whatever for? How exactly am I supposed to be your bodyguard if–”
“Shioni!”
Both of her friends laughed at her. Shioni scowled at them in turn. “What?”
“Annakiya owes me. I won our bet,” said Zi, looking as smug as only a four-inch-tall Fiuri could manage. “I bet you’d get all huffy, while Princess pincushion over there said you’d understand exactly why you’d need to wear a disguise.”
“Azurelle, you are in serious danger of being sat on.”
“Ruffian! Princess, control your impudent slave-girl.”
Annakiya wagged a finger at the Fiuri prancing on her pillow. “Princess ‘pincushion’ is about to let her faithful slave-girl do more than just sit on you, you adder-tongued mosquito!”
Zi, far from being crushed by this insult, instead fell about laughing.
“Hopeless,” said Annakiya, after they had all laughed for a while. “I meant what the General said about danger in Gondar, Shioni, and don’t you remember–?”
“Talaku’s dream? I do. I had a dream too, night before last.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Zi shrilled.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” demanded the Princess.
“Just … so help me,” said the Fiuri, trying to climb Shioni’s hair, “just let me near your ear so that I can shriek into it.”
Shioni captured the Fiuri very gently in her hands. “There’s no need, Zi. I didn’t get a chance. Listen.” And she related her dream about the King and his lions.
“Well, that’s settled then,” said Annakiya. “Until we know what we’re dealing with in Gondar, you are going to wear a disguise I prepared for you–a long-sleeved dress with trousers beneath, and a nettela to disguise your hair and face. Just like the Afar women we saw in Takazze.”
“With my weapons.”
“What a bloodthirsty, knife-wielding shifta you are,” Zi interrupted.
“Zi, it’s my job. She’s my job.”
“I think she just insulted you, o beauteous Princess of Sheba.”
Shioni kissed the crown of Zi’s very green hair as she pirouetted lightly in the palm of her hand. “Dear friend, I don’t think I can dress up. I’d stick out worse than a lion with a purple mane. Unless … my friend with the title can convince Alemnesh and Mekedis to do the same?”
“Who are …?”
“The female Elites.”
A slow smile spread across Annakiya’s face. “They’re going to love you, Shioni.”
“That’s exactly why the powerful Princess of West Sheba will issue the order and the slave-girl will keep her mouth firmly shut.”
“For a change,” said Zi, clearly on a mission to get someone in trouble. “And don’t kiss me again, Shioni. Do you have any idea how big your lips appear to a creature my size?”
“Er … I can only imagine.”
“I can go one better.” Azurelle’s jade eyes positively sparkled now. “Just imagine Shifta giving you a big, slobbery elephant kiss–”
“Ew, Azurelle, enough already!”
“Knock, knock.”
“General Getu,” Annakiya breathed. “Shioni, I’m in bed …”
“Yes, General Getu,” said the unseen but unmistakably gruff tones of the General. “Listen, Shioni, will you check the Princess’ bed before she tucks in? One of the merchants bedded down with an adder tonight and I–”
“Shiiiioooooniiiiiii!”
Shioni collected an armful of blankets and a quivering Princess in one gasp. Outside, General Getu’s chuckles faded into the night. “You faced down a giant python,” she counselled. “Now you’re scared of a little adder? Which isn’t even there?”
“I was crazy, then. Two shakes short of a hyena howling at the moon.” The Princess took a huge, shuddering breath. “Tell me the General was joking, Shioni. Tell me …?”
She shook her head. “General Getu doesn’t joke about things like that. Although, if there was a snake in your bed, you just threw it over the river.”
A tiny, plaintive voice emerged from somewhere beneath the blankets. “Do you two have any idea how big an adder appears to someone my size?”
Chapter 7: How to Shift a Shifta
HigHer up the Takazze River, the flat plains crinkled up into rolling hills. Dense forest drew in around the Sheban column, in places so thick and tangled that the trail had to be widened by teams of sweating, toiling warriors working with axes. A kind of music, Shioni thought. The dull thump of axes for the drumbeat, accompanied by a rising and falling chorus of frustrated exclamations and the sharp slaps of warriors and merchants–for the wetlands over the far side of the river seemed to create an environment that trapped heat and moisture, and invited dense clouds of mosquitoes to come and feast upon any exposed flesh. The mornings and evenings were especially noisy with the raucous calling of water birds and the low grunts of hippos coming out of the river in the cool of the day. The croaking calls of black hornbills filled the juniper and giant fig forest, and especially amongst the riverine acacia trees, families of green wood hoopoes chattered incessantly.
Shifta, freed from the howdah for the third day running as the Princess of West Sheba rode horseback with the inevitable posse of warriors trailing her, enjoyed some ‘real work’. Under Shioni’s direction, he tore up trees with his trunk, or simply pushed them aside with a powerful thrust of his head. An astonishing quantity of leaves, twigs, and even whole branches disappeared into his ever-hungry maw.
The villagers were the funniest, Shioni thought. Here and there, small stockaded villages nested amongst the tall trees. The men, women, and children rushed out to stare at the visitors, and to offer grain and vegetables to trade. Then they would catch sight of the massive elephant. Cue comical amazement! But some plainly feared the Sheban Elites, and needed to be persuaded that their strong force meant no harm. Others would say little. She soon learned why they were so a
fraid.
“Bad news,” General Getu said to Princess Annakiya, their second evening since entering the forested hills. “They’re frightened to death. One shemagele whispered the bandit leader’s name–it’s definitely Jibu.”
“Is Jibu allied with Kalcha’s forces?” asked the Princess. “Shioni said they came down from the Simiens.”
“That’s a huge territory, Princess,” Getu said dryly. “But it’s suspicious, I agree. Those bandits have been raiding, stealing, and hurting these people … I wonder if it’s the same group that raided along the river recently. Prince Bekele said that three villages had been burned. Maybe this is Jibu’s home territory. Regardless, our scouts say we’re right on their trail now. Practically stepping on their tails.” His fist thumped dust off his thigh for emphasis. “I say Sheba should uproot them and burn them on the fires of judgement. We’ve warriors to spare, and some of the men are itching for a fight.”
“They haven’t shown it, General.”
“Good discipline. It’s good to sharpen the blades, though. These men are battle-ready Elites.”
Annakiya nodded, her face pensive in the lamplight. “I don’t like shiftas any more than you do, General. These people have troubles enough just feeding their families. As long as you think it’s safe, give the warriors their exercise. Maybe we can catch The Hyena, this Jibu.”
“Yes, my Lady.” Getu’s eye shifted to Shioni. “I see you’ve been trying out a disguise?”
Annakiya explained their reasons briefly. “And,” she added, “Shioni has to get used to the clothes. You can tell she doesn’t move right, yet.”
The General nodded curtly. “You’re growing in wisdom, Princess. Your father would be proud.”
“Her father never thought much of a girl,” Shioni commented. Annakiya gasped at her honesty, but said nothing to disagree. “Gashe, I don’t understand why Prince Bekele has suddenly … changed his spots? Mama Nomuula says leopards never change … well, but he has. Is Mama wrong? Or am I just confused?”
“I was most surprised,” the General admitted. “Time will tell, my daughter, whether this will be the making of the man. Be patient.”
“I’ve been very patient already.”
Her friends laughed at her wry comment. Azurelle said, “If grumbling were sandpaper, Shioni, you’d have worn that slave-necklet right off your neck years ago.”
Shioni groaned, “Thanks, friend.”
“Patience,” growled the General, rising. “I will brief the warriors, my Lady. I sense a hunting moon will rise this night.”
“All too bloodthirsty for me,” said Zi, yawning. “Coming to bed? I like beds, but they’re nothing like the hammock flowers of Fiuriel.”
Azurelle was wrapped up in a small scarf Annakiya had given her. Her nut-brown skin seemed pale. Suddenly, Shioni began to worry that her friend had seemed very tired lately. “Anni,” she said. “Does Zi seem quite well to you?”
The Princess murmured, “Er, yes … why?”
“It’s nothing.”
Shioni puffed out their lamp and lay back in the darkness, her mind racing. Azurelle had been unwell when they found her in the cave beneath Castle Hiwot, but she had always assumed Kalcha’s bottling of the Fiuri was the culprit. Zi had recovered–but had she, in truth? She could not fly. A butterfly-person with wings who could not fly? Not good.
Delicately, Shioni attempted something she had never done before. She extended her senses toward her friend, just as she might to listen to an animal. Zi was no animal. But neither was she human, being a magical creature from a world called Fiuriel. A world of caves, dangerous plants, wild magic, and the amazing Fiuri. Kalcha, having stolen Azurelle’s magic, had used it to create all kinds of trouble for Castle Hiwot and the Shebans living there. It must have taken great power to create the huge python Shioni had battled.
What if Azurelle was dying?
She touched something strange. But it was like trying to grapple with a shimmering bar of soap. She simply could not get close enough to detect or understand anything, despite biting her lip and concentrating so hard that she felt a drop of sweat pearl and run down her left temple.
‘Scabby hyenas, this magic stuff is hard,’ she told herself. Her heart thumped in her throat. ‘Maybe I’ll just ask Azurelle tomorrow. But she’s been reluctant to talk about her past so far …’How she wished she had someone to teach her.
Shioni fell asleep and dreamed of becoming one of Kalcha’s Apprentices.
She woke up with a pounding headache. “Ugh!”
Shioni stumbled out to help the warriors fix the howdah to Shifta’s back, as the Princess was too stiff and sore to ride horseback any more. And she rode out on patrol once more that morning–bad mistake. Every step of the horse jarred her aching head. Every croak of a hornbill stabbed into her ears. By the time she returned, toward noon, it was all she could do to hold onto the reins and give the horse its head. Annakiya expressed her disgust at length, which did her aching head no good whatsoever. But then Tensi appeared with a violently bitter herbal drink and forced her to quaff it, and an hour or so later, Shioni began to feel better, despite her stomach pretending it was a large, knotted piece of rope being pulled up, down and sideways all at the same time.
Then, they came to another village.
The trail had begun to swing back toward the west. The forest became sparser and travel easier, leading to a much more cheerful General and relief for the Sheban troops. Toward mid-afternoon, the trail passed through a village of eleven round mud-and-stick huts, Annakiya counted aloud. Then she said:
“Shioni? Something doesn’t feel right here.”
“I know.” From her perch on the elephant’s back, Shioni could gaze out over the entire village. Chickens clucked and pecked busily. Several goats were tied up next to a hut. Where were the children? “I sense … something bad. Evil.” For certain.
General Getu spoke to one of the village men. Shioni noted the stiff set of his shoulders. One of the scouts appeared at the far end of the village. He made a quick, discreet hand signal to the General, who gave no sign he had noticed.
“Well, no trade here,” General Getu said loudly. “Move out, men.”
“Did you see that?”
Shioni nodded, adjusting the nettela over her nose. “The bandits?”
“A rotten egg against all the gold of Sheba says I’m right.” Annakiya smiled rather grimly. “Your disguise is perfect, Shioni. That herbal wash Tensi made you has turned your skin as brown as mine.”
“Let’s move on.” Shioni prodded the elephant’s ear with her toe. “What do you think, Shifta?”
“As we entered the village,” he rumbled, “I saw the flash of a blade inside a doorway of one of the stick houses. And I heard the movement of horses.”
“Inside a hut?”
When the elephant nodded, Shioni shared this intelligence with Princess Annakiya.
“Heavens, they’re hiding amongst the villagers.” Annakiya sounded outraged.
After travelling on a short ways, General Getu rode up alongside. Shioni stopped the elephant so that Annakiya could climb down to confer with him and Captain Yirgu.
“Worse than that,” said Getu, once they had exchanged their information. “They’re holding the villagers hostage. If our warriors move in, they’ll kill them.”
“Then we wait!” cried the Princess.
“How long?” countered Getu.
“I am not letting them … we can’t, General. How can we leave these villagers to suffer? We can’t do that.”
“This is not a fight we can win, Princess. Not tidily, anyway. People will get killed. Children, too.”
“They’re getting killed already.”
An uncomfortable silence drew out like a string nobody dared break. They did not want to think about what Jibu’s shiftas would do to the villagers once the Sheban forces departed.
Shioni smacked her fist against her hand. “Then we scare them out, Anni. I’ve an idea–”
“What?”
“Let’s say an asmati walked in there …”
General Getu, Yirgu, and Annakiya all gaped at her. “An asmati?”
“I’ve scared people before. I think I can do it.”
“Hold on,” cautioned the Captain.
“No …” General Getu’s lip curled into a snarl. “I like the idea. With preparation … listen, Captain. We surround the village. Take her in there–”
“No, they wouldn’t believe that. Tied up, maybe.”
“Oh, yes, Captain! Several big warriors, struggling to hold her back–”
“–and we’ll paint her face,” Annakiya threw in, getting into the spirit of things.
Yirgu added, “She must be hungry. She hunts at night.”
“Yes!” Getu turned his wolf-smile on Shioni. “Think you can do that?”
“My Lord, I–yes. Yes, I can.”
Two hours later, Shioni found herself hooded and trussed to within an inch of her life. Captain Yirgu and three of his biggest, toughest warriors marched her down to the village, holding ropes attached to her neck and waist. Through the hood, she saw the village bathed in the last brilliant rays of the afternoon sunshine. All was quiet. Too quiet.
“But how will I snarl and froth and foam, General?” she had asked.
“Learn your lessons from Kalcha, Shioni,” said the wily General. “We can learn lessons even from great evil.”
She had to scare them–scare mean, murdering bandits enough to put the fear of demons at their heels. Beneath the sweaty hood, Shioni grinned. She had an idea. She issued a mental call, as clearly as she could. Behind her, a black hornbill croaked harshly in reply.
Tiny holes had been poked in her hood. Shioni watched the General stalk down to the first hut. Her handlers were putting plenty of energy and enthusiasm into prodding her with their spear butts as they pushed her along. She was already mad. Not only had they tied her more firmly than she thought necessary, but after she’d been hooded, the warriors had amused themselves throwing dirt and other unmentionable things over her grubby outfit, borrowed from one of the donkey handlers in the merchant train. Then Tensi had rubbed crushed beetle juice on her clothes. The smell was unbelievable. It also attracted flies. She had to be wearing several hundred flies, and she could barely breathe.