The Quest (Novels of Ancient Egypt)
Page 21
Taita was woken by the shouts of the men: ‘Run, Windsmoke, run!’ And ‘Ride, Fenn, ride!’
He ran to the gate just in time to see the distant trio disappear over the skyline. He was uncertain on whom he should first vent his fury.
Meren chose that moment to cry, ‘By the thunderous peals of Seth’s farts, she rides like a trooper!’ so nominating himself the target.
Taita was still haranguing him when Windsmoke tore back across the basin with Fenn shrieking with excitement upon her back and Whirlwind at her heels. She stopped in front of Taita, and Fenn slid down and ran to him. ‘Oh, Taita, did you see us? Wasn’t it wonderful? Were you not proud of me?’
He glared at her. ‘You are never to do something as dangerous and foolish as that again, not in all your life.’ She was crestfallen. Her shoulders drooped and her eyes swam with tears. He relented stiffly: ‘But you rode well enough. I am proud of you.’
‘The magus means that you rode like a trooper, but we were all afraid for your safety,’ Meren explained, ‘but there was no cause for us to worry.’ Fenn brightened immediately, and dashed away the tears with the back of her hand.
‘Is that what you really meant, Taita?’ she demanded.
‘I suppose it was,’ he admitted gruffly.
That evening Fenn sat cross-legged upon her sleeping mat and, by the light of the oil lamp, regarded Taita solemnly as he lay on his back with his beard brushed out and his hands folded on his chest, composing himself for sleep. ‘You will never go away and leave me, but will always be with me, won’t you, Taita?’
‘Yes.’ He smiled up at her. ‘I will always be with you.’
‘I am so glad.’ She bent forward and buried her face in his silver beard. ‘It is so soft,’ she whispered, ‘like a cloud.’ Then the excitement of the day overwhelmed her and she fell asleep, sprawled across his chest.
Taita lay for a while, listening to her breathing. Such happiness cannot last, he thought. It is too intense.
They were up early the next morning. As soon as they had had breakfast, of dhurra porridge and mare’s milk, they went out into the forest for herbs. When the foraging baskets were filled Taita led the way to their favourite pool in the river. They sat together on the high bank, their reflections mirrored on the surface of the pool below them.
‘Look at yourself, Fenn,’ he said. ‘See how beautiful you have become.’ She glanced down without interest, and was immediately riveted by the face that looked back at her. She knelt up, leant far out over the water, then stared and stared. At last she whispered, ‘Are not my ears too large?’
‘Your ears are like the petals of a flower,’ he replied.
‘One of my teeth is crooked.’
‘Only a very little, and it makes your smile all the more intriguing.’
‘My nose?’
‘Is the most perfect little nose I have ever seen.’
‘Really?’
‘Really!’
She turned to smile at him, and he told her, ‘Your smile lights the forest.’
She hugged him and her body was warm, but suddenly he felt a cold wind on his cheek although the leaves of the tree that hung over them had not stirred. He shivered, and, softly, the pulse began to beat in his eardrums. They were no longer alone.
Protectively, he held her closer, and looked over her shoulder into the pool.
There was a disturbance beneath the surface, as though a giant catfish had stirred in the depths. But the pulse in his ears beat stronger and he knew it was no fish. He concentrated his gaze and made out a tenuous shadow that seemed to undulate like the leaves of a water-lily in some deep eddy of the river. Slowly the shadow coalesced into human form, an insubstantial image of a cloaked figure, its head swathed in a voluminous cowl. He tried to see beneath the folds, but there was only shadow.
Fenn felt him stiffen and looked up into his face, then turned her head to follow the direction of his gaze. She stared down into the pool, and whispered fearfully, ‘Something is there.’ As she spoke the image faded, and the surface of the pool was unruffled and serene once more. ‘What was it, Taita?’ she asked.
‘What did you see?’
‘Someone was in the pool under the water.’
Taita was not surprised: he had known all along that she had the gift. It was not the first time she had given him proof.
‘Did you see it clearly?’ He did not want to place a suggestion in her mind.
‘I saw someone under the water, dressed all in black…but they had no face.’ She had seen all of the vision, not just fragments. The psychic genius with which she had been endowed was powerful, perhaps as powerful as his own. He would be able to work with her as he had never been able to with Meren. He could help her develop her gift and harness its force to her will.
‘How did it make you feel?’
‘Cold,’ she whispered.
‘Did you smell anything?’
‘The scent of a cat – no, that of a serpent. I am not sure. But I know that it was evil.’ She clung to him. ‘What was it?’
‘What you smelt was the scent of the witch.’ He would hide nothing from her. She had the body of a child, but it contained the mind and soul of a strong, resilient woman. He did not have to shield her. Besides her gift, she had reserves of strength and experience accumulated in the other life. He had only to help her find the key to the strongroom in her mind where those treasures were stored.
‘What you saw was the shadow of the witch. What you smelt was her scent.’
‘Who is the witch?’
‘I will tell you one day soon, but now we must return to the camp. We have pressing matters to attend to.’
The witch had found them, and Taita realized he had been lulled into remaining too long in that lovely place. His life force had built up like a wave, and she had sensed it, then smelt him out. They must move on, and swiftly.
Fortunately, the men were rested and fully recuperated. Their spirits were high. The horses were strong. The dhurra bags were filled. The swords were sharp and all the equipment had been repaired. If the witch had found them, Taita had also found her. He knew in which direction her lair lay.
Meren marshalled the men. The toll extracted by the swamps had been heavy. Almost a year and a half ago ninety-three officers and men had ridden out of the fort at Qebui. Thirty-six remained to answer the muster. The horses and mules had fared little better. Of the original three hundred, plus the gift of five pack mules, a hundred and eighty-six had survived.
No one looked back as the column pulled out of the encampment, wound down the escarpment into the plains and headed back towards the river. Fenn was no longer behind Taita on Windsmoke. After her display of her horse-handling skill she had demanded her own mount, and Taita had chosen for her a sturdy bay gelding of even disposition.
Fenn was delighted with him. ‘I shall call him Goose,’ she announced.
Taita looked at her enquiringly. ‘Why Goose?’
‘I like geese. He reminds me of a goose,’ she explained loftily. He decided that the easiest course was to accept the name without further debate.
As soon as the track reached the foothills and became wide enough to allow it, she moved up and rode at Taita’s side, their knees almost touching, so that they could talk. ‘You promised to tell me about the witch in the water. This is a good time.’
‘Yes, it is. The witch is a very old woman. She has lived since the beginning time. She is very powerful, and does wicked things.’
‘What wicked things?’
‘She devours newborn babes.’ Fenn shuddered. ‘And she lures wise men into her clutches and devours their souls. Then she casts out the husks of the bodies.’
‘I would never have thought such things possible.’
‘There is worse to tell, Fenn. With her powers she has stopped up the flow of the great river that is the mother of the earth, the river whose waters give life, food and drink to all peoples.’
Fenn thought about that. ‘The
Luo thought I had killed the river. They drove me out of their village to die of hunger in the forest, or to be eaten by wild animals.’
‘They are a cruel and ignorant people,’ Taita agreed.
‘I am glad that you and Meren slew them,’ she said matter-of-factly, and was silent again for a while. ‘Why would the witch want to kill the river?’
‘She wanted to break the power of our pharaoh and enslave the peoples of his kingdom.’
‘What is a pharaoh, and what does “enslave” mean?’ He explained, and she looked grave. ‘Then she is truly wicked. Where does she live?’
‘On a mountain beside a great lake in a land far to the south.’ He pointed ahead.
‘Is that where we are going?’
‘Yes. We will try to stop her, and make the waters flow again.’
‘If she lives so far away, how did she get into the pool of the river where we saw her?’
‘It was not her we saw. It was her shadow.’
Fenn frowned and wrinkled her pert little nose as she wrestled with the concept. ‘I do not understand.’
Taita reached into the leather pouch on his girdle and brought out the bulb of a lily that he had brought with him for the purpose of demonstration. He handed it to her. ‘You know this bulb.’
She examined it briefly. ‘Of course. We have gathered many such.’
‘Inside there are many layers, one within the other, and in the centre the tiny kernel.’ She nodded, and he went on, ‘That is how our entire universe is shaped. We are the kernel at the centre. Around us there are layers of existence we cannot see or sense – unless we have the power to do so. Do you understand?’
She nodded again, cautiously, then admitted candidly, ‘No, I don’t, Taita.’
‘Do you dream when you are asleep, Fenn?’
‘Oh, yes!’ she enthused. ‘Wonderful dreams! They make me laugh and feel happy. Sometimes in my dreams I can fly like a bird. I visit strange and beautiful places.’ Then a haunted expression replaced the smile. ‘But sometimes I have dreams that frighten me or make me feel sad.’
Taita had listened to her nightmares as she lay beside him in the night. He had never shaken her or startled her out of them but had extended his own power to calm her and bring her back gently from the dark places. ‘Yes, Fenn, I know. In your sleep you leave this layer of existence and move into the next.’ She smiled with comprehension, and Taita continued, ‘Although most people have dreams they cannot control, some have the special gift to see beyond the tiny kernel of existence in which we are encapsulated. Some, the savants and the magi, may even have the power to travel in spirit form to wherever they choose. To see things from afar.’
‘Can you do that, Taita?’ He smiled enigmatically, and she burst out, ‘It must be strange and wonderful. I should love to be able to do that.’
‘One day perhaps you shall. You see, Fenn, you saw the shade of the witch in the pool, which means you have the power. We need only train you to use and control it.’
‘So the witch had come to spy on us? She was really there?’
‘Her spirit was. She was overlooking us.’
‘I am frightened of her.’
‘It is wise to be so. But we must not surrender to her. We must counter her with our own powers, you and I. We must oppose her and break her wicked spells. If we can, we will destroy her and this world will be a better place for it.’
‘I will help you,’ she declared stoutly, ‘but, first, you must teach me how.’
‘Your progress so far has been miraculous.’ He looked upon her with unfeigned admiration. She was already developing the mind and spirit of the queen she had been in the other life. ‘You are ready to learn more,’ he told her. ‘We will start at once.’
Her instruction began each day as they mounted and rode out side by side. It continued through the long days of travel. His first concern was to instil in her the duty of a magus, which was to employ with care and responsibility the powers with which he or she had been endowed. They must never be used lightly or frivolously, or to achieve petty or selfish ends.
Once she had understood this sacred duty, and acknowledged it with a formal vow that he made her repeat, they moved on to study the simplest forms of the magical arts. At first he was careful not to tax her powers of concentration and to set a pace that she could maintain. But he need not have worried: she was indefatigable, and her determination unbending.
First he taught her how to protect herself: to weave spells of concealment that would shield her from the eyes of others. She practised this at the end of each day, when they were secure within the makeshift stockade. She would sit quietly beside Taita and, with his assistance, attempt to work a spell of concealment. It took many nights of diligent application but at last she succeeded. Once she had cloaked herself, Taita shouted for Meren. ‘Have you seen Fenn? I wish to speak to her.’
Meren looked about, and his gaze passed over the child without pause. ‘She was here but a short time ago. She must have gone out to the bushes. Shall I search for her?’
‘No matter. It was not important.’ Meren walked away, and Fenn giggled triumphantly.
Meren whirled round and started with surprise. ‘There she is! Sitting beside you!’ Then he grinned. ‘Clever girl, Fenn! I was never able to do that, no matter how hard I tried.’
‘Now you see how, if you lose concentration, the spell shatters like glass,’ Taita chided her.
Once she had learnt to shield her physical body, he could teach her to mask her mind and aura. This was more difficult. First, he had to be certain that the witch did not have them under scrutiny: until she had fully mastered the magical techniques she would be most vulnerable to interference from any malign influence while she was attempting to do it. He had to search the ether around them before they could begin the instruction, and keep his guard high.
Her first task was to understand the aura of life that surrounded every living thing. She could not see it, and would never be able to until her Inner Eye was opened. Taita was determined to take her at the first opportunity on the arduous journey to the temple of Saraswati. In the meantime he had to describe it to her. Once she had grasped the concept of the aura, he could go on to explain the Inner Eye, and the power of savants to employ it.
‘Do you have the Inner Eye, Taita?’
‘Yes, but so does the witch,’ he replied.
‘What does my aura look like?’ she asked, with ingenuous female vanity.
‘It is a shimmering golden light, like no other I have seen or expect to see again. It is divine.’ Fenn glowed, and he went on, ‘Therein lies our difficulty. If you continue to let it shine forth the witch will descry you in an instant and know what a serious threat you may pose to her.’
She thought about that. ‘You say that the witch has overlooked us. In that case, has she not already descried my aura? Is it not too late to attempt to conceal it from her?’
‘It is not possible even for a savant to perceive an aura by overlooking from afar. It can only be done by viewing a subject directly. We saw the witch in the water as a wraith, so she saw us in the same fashion. She could perceive our physical selves and overhear our conversation – she could even smell us as we did her – but she could not see your aura.’
‘What of yours? Did you conceal it from her?’
‘As savants, neither the witch nor I shed an aura.’
‘Teach me the art of hiding mine,’ she pleaded.
He inclined his head in agreement. ‘I will, but we must be vigilant. I must be certain that she is not overlooking or listening to us.’
It was not an easy task. Fenn had to rely on him to tell her how successful her efforts were. At first her best attempts caused her aura to flicker but it soon flared up as brightly as before. They persevered, and gradually, with her most valiant efforts and his coaching, the flickering became a significant dimming. But it was weeks before she could suppress it at will to a level that was not much more striking than that of M
eren or any of his troopers, and maintain it at that level of brightness for extended periods.
Nine days after leaving the encampment on the plateau, they reached the river. Although it was almost a league across from bank to bank, the Nile waters flowed no more strongly than those of the mountain stream beside which they had raised the dhurra crop. The thin trickle was almost lost in the wide expanse of dry sand and mudbanks. However, it was sufficient for their needs. They turned southwards and pushed on along the eastern bank, covering many leagues each day. Elephants had dug deep holes in the riverbed to reach the cleaner subterranean water. Men and horses drank from them.
Each day they came upon large herds of these ancient grey beasts drinking from the holes, lifting huge draughts to their mouths in their trunks and squirting them down their gaping pink throats, but at the troopers’ approach they charged up the bank in a herd, flapping their ears and trumpeting before rushing into the forest.
Many of the bulls carried massive shafts of ivory. It was only with an effort that Meren controlled his hunter’s heart and allowed them to escape unmolested. Now they met other men of the Shilluk tribe grazing their herds along the riverbank. Nontu was carried away on a flood of his emotions. ‘Old and revered one, these people are from my own town. They have news of my family,’ he told Taita. ‘Two seasons ago one of my wives was taken by a crocodile when she went to draw water from the river, but the other three are well and have borne many children.’ Taita knew Nontu had been at Qebui for the last eight years, and he wondered at the births. ‘I left my wives in the care of my brothers,’ Nontu explained blithely.
‘It seems they have cared well for them,’ Taita remarked drily.
Nontu went on cheerfully. ‘My eldest daughter has seen her first red moon and come of child-bearing age. They tell me she has grown into a nubile girl, and the young men have offered many cattle for her as a bride price. I must return with these men, who are my kinsfolk, to the village to arrange her marriage, and to take care of the cattle.’