by Wilbur Smith
‘Not far from where we sit,’ said Eos, ‘but be patient. In time I will lead you to it.’
She lied. Of course she lied. She was the Lie. Even if the Font existed, he knew she would lead no other person to it, but still the false promise intrigued him.
‘I see you doubt me still,’ Eos said softly. ‘To demonstrate my utmost good faith, I will allow you to take another person with you to the Font, to share in its blessing. Someone whom you count dear. Is there such a person?’
Fenn! Instantly he cloaked the thought so that even she could not read it. Eos had set a trap, and he had almost blundered into it. ‘There is no such person,’ he answered.
‘Once when I overlooked you, you sat beside a pool in the wilderness. I saw a child with you, a pretty child with pale hair.’
‘Ah, yes,’ he agreed. ‘I forget even her name, for she was one of those you call termites. She was a companion of the moment only.’
‘You do not wish to take her with you to the Font?’
‘There is no reason why I should.’ Eos was silent, but he could feel the softest touch on his temples, like that of teasing fairy fingers. He knew that Eos was unconvinced by what he had said and was trying to enter his head, trying to reach into his mind and steal his thoughts. With a psychic effort he blocked her entrance, and immediately she withdrew.
‘You are tired, Taita. You must sleep awhile.’
‘I am not tired in the least,’ he replied, and it was true: he felt vital and fresh.
‘We have so much to discuss that we are like runners at the start of a long race. We must pace ourselves. After all, we are destined to become companions for all eternity. There is no need to hasten. Time is our plaything, not our adversary.’ Eos rose from her couch and, without another word, slipped through a doorway in the back wall that he had not noticed before.
Although he had felt no fatigue, when he stretched out on the padded silken sleeping mat in his chamber Taita fell into deep sleep. He woke to find a shaft of sunlight playing down through the opening in the ceiling. He felt wonderfully alive.
His soiled clothing had disappeared and a fresh tunic had been laid out for him with a new pair of sandals beside his leather cloak. A meal had been placed on the ivory table near his head. He bathed, ate and dressed. The tunic Eos had provided was of a delicate material that caressed his skin, while the sandals were worked from the skin of a newborn goat and embossed with gold leaf. They fitted perfectly.
He returned to Eos’s green room to find it deserted. Only her perfume lingered. He crossed to the doorway through which she had gone the previous night. The long passage beyond led him out into the sunlight. Once his eyes had adjusted he found that he was in another volcanic crater, not as large as the Cloud Gardens but more lovely by far. Yet he had no eyes for the luxuriant forests and orchards that covered the floor of the crater in profusion: directly in front of him spread a green lawn with a small marble pavilion above a pool in the middle, a rill of bright water cascading into it. Although the stream was clear, the surface of the pool was black and shiny as polished jet.
Eos sat on the marble bench in the pavilion. Her head was bare, but she faced away from him so that only her hair was visible. He moved quietly towards her, hoping to come on her unawares and catch a glimpse of her face. Her hair rippled down to her waist. It was as dark as the water of the pool, but ineffably more lustrous. As he drew closer to her he saw that the soft reflections of the sunlight glowed in the tresses like the glint of precious rubies. He longed to touch it, but as he reached out, Eos lifted the veil over her head, covering herself, denying him even the briefest glimpse of her face. Then she turned to him. ‘Take your place beside me, for that is where you belong.’
They sat in silence for a while. Taita was angry and frustrated: he longed to see her face. She seemed to sense his mood and laid her hand on his arm. Her touch thrilled him, but he steeled himself and asked, ‘We have spoken much of physical appearance, Eos. Do you suffer from some blemish? Is that why you hide yourself behind the veil? Are you ashamed of the way you look?’
He had tried to provoke her as she had him. But her voice was sweet and calm as she replied: ‘I am the most beautiful person, man or woman, who has ever walked the earth.’
‘Then why do you hide that beauty?’
‘Because it can blind the eyes and unhinge the minds of men who look upon it.’
‘Must I take your boast on trust?’
‘It is no boast, Taita. It is the truth.’
‘Will you never reveal this beauty to me?’
‘You will look upon my beauty when you are ready to do so, when you realize the consequences and are prepared to accept them.’ Her hand still lay upon his arm. ‘Do you not see how my lightest touch disturbs you? I can feel the beating of your heart through the tips of my fingers.’ She withdrew her hand, leaving his senses in turmoil. It took him a while to bring them under control. ‘Let us speak of other matters. There are many questions you have for me, and I have given you my undertaking to answer them truthfully,’ she said.
Taita’s voice sounded a little breathless as he took up her invitation. ‘You have placed barriers across the headwaters of the Nile. What was your purpose in doing so?’
‘My reasons were twofold. First, it was an invitation to you to come to me. You were unable to resist it, and now you sit beside me.’
He thought on it deeply, then asked, ‘What was the other reason?’
‘I was preparing a gift for you.’
‘A gift?’ he exclaimed.
‘A betrothal gift. Once we are joined in spirit and flesh, I will give to you the Two Kingdoms of Egypt.’
‘Only after you have destroyed them? What perverse and savage gift is this?’
‘When you wear the double crown and we sit side by side on the throne of Egypt, I will restore the Nile and its waters to our kingdom…the first of our many kingdoms.’
‘In the meantime it is only the termites of humanity who suffer?’ Taita asked.
‘Already you begin to think and act like the lord of all creation, whom you will soon become. I showed it to you in the images beside the grotto in the Cloud Gardens. Dominion over all the nations, eternal life, youth and beauty, and the wisdom and learning of the ages, which is the diamond mountain.’
‘The greatest prize of all,’ Taita said. ‘I call it the Truth.’
‘It shall be yours.’
‘I still doubt that you offer me this without demanding some commensurate price from me.’
‘Oh, I have already spoken of that. In return for what I offer, I demand your eternal love and devotion.’
‘You have existed so long without a companion, why do you wish one now?’
‘I have been overtaken by the tedium of eternity, a staleness of spirit and the aching boredom of lacking someone with whom to share these wonders.’
‘That is all the price you ask of me? I have had a glimpse of your mighty intellect. If your beauty matches your mind, it is a trivial price to pay.’ Her lies were disguised by truths. He pretended to believe them. They were like the commanders of two armies arrayed against each other. This was the skirmishing and manoeuvring that preceded the battle. He was afraid, not so much for himself as for Egypt and Fenn, the two things dearest to him, both in deadly danger.
They spent the days that followed beside the black pool and most of the nights in Eos’s green chamber. Gradually she exposed more of her physical form to him while keeping her spirit soul concealed. Her discourse grew daily more absorbing. Occasionally she would lean forward to pick up a morsel of fruit from the silver tray and artlessly let her sleeve fall back to reveal her forearm. Or she would shift position on her ivory couch and let the skirt of her black robe expose a knee. The shape of her calf was sublime. He should have become conditioned to the perfection of her limbs, but he had not. He dreaded the moment when her entire body would be revealed. He doubted his ability to resist its enchantment.
The days and nights sped by with s
tartling rapidity. The carnal and astral tensions built up between them until they were almost unbearable. She touched him, taking his hand when she wanted to emphasize a point. Once she clasped it to her bosom and he had to exert all of his self-control not to groan at the pain in his groin as he felt the warm elasticity of her breast.
Her perfume never changed: it was always the scent of sun lilies. However, she changed her raiment morning and evening. Always it was long and voluminous, barely hinting at the swells and curves of her body beneath the delicate fabrics. Sometimes she was serene, at other times restless: then she circled his couch with the graceful menace of a man-eating tigress. Once she knelt in front of him and brazenly slipped her hand up his thigh under his tunic while continuing her erudite discourse, her fingers stopping just short of his manhood and withdrawing as she felt it swell. At other times she reverted to the black robes and kept herself completely hidden, not allowing even her toes to show.
One morning they were in her green chamber and Eos was wearing a robe of diaphanous white silk. She had never worn white before. In the midst of their conversation she rose unexpectedly to her small bare feet and came to stand before him. The white veil she was wearing floated about her like a cloud. The pink and ivory tones of her skin shone through the material as the light played on her. Seen through the silk, her image was ethereal. Her moon-pale belly was as sleek as that of a hunting greyhound, with a mysterious triangular shadow at its base. Her breasts were indefinite creamy orbs, tipped with strawberry aureoles.
‘Do you truly wish me to unveil myself, my lord?’ she asked.
He was so taken by surprise that he could not reply at once. Eventually he said, ‘It seems that I have waited all my life for the moment that you do so.’
‘I want you to have all of me. I will hold nothing back from you. I set no conditions on you. I expect nothing from you in return but your love.’ She threw back the silken sleeves and held up her bare arms. They were slim, rounded and firm. She took the hem of her veil between those tapering fingers and began to lift it from her face. She paused at her chin. Her neck was long and graceful.
‘Be very sure that you wish to look upon my face. I have warned you what the consequences may be. My beauty has enslaved all before you who have looked upon it. Will you be able to resist it?’
‘Even if it destroys me I must do so,’ he whispered. He knew that this was the fateful moment when they joined battle.
‘So be it,’ she said, and raised her veil with infinitely tantalizing deliberation. Her chin was rounded and dimpled. Her lips were full and curved, charged with red blood to the colour of ripe cherries. She licked her lips. Her tongue was tapered and it curled at the tip like that of a yawning kitten. It left a glistening trace of saliva on her lips, then drew back between small, lustrous teeth. Her nose was narrow and straight but flared slightly at the tip. Her cheekbones were set high, and her forehead was wide and deep. Her arched brows formed a perfect frame for her eyes, which were dark jewels that seemed to dispel the shadows with their glory. They looked deep into Taita’s soul. Each separate part of her countenance was perfect. Taken as a whole, it was incomparably lovely.
‘Do I please you, my lord?’ she asked, as she swirled the veil off her head and let it float down to the green malachite tiles. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in a sable cascade shot through with ruby lights. It hung to her waist, springing and curling, vibrant with life of its own.
‘You do not answer me,’ she said. ‘Do I displease you?’
‘My mind cannot encompass your beauty,’ he said, in a voice that shook. ‘There are no words that can describe even a tenth part of it. Having looked upon it, I understand how it may burn a man to ash as though he were caught up in a raging forest fire. It terrifies me, but I am unable to resist it.’
She glided closer to him, and the perfume of sun lilies enveloped him. She stood over him until he was forced to turn his face up to hers. She stooped slowly and placed her lips on his, warm and soft. Her curling kitten tongue slipped deep into his mouth. For a fleeting moment it twined round his own, and then it was gone, but the taste of her filled his mouth like the juice of some wondrous fruit.
She whirled away across the malachite tiles. Her translucent robe billowed round her as she arched her back and pirouetted until the back of her head almost touched the bulge of her buttocks, her hair brushing the tiles. Her feet danced until they blurred with speed. His eyes could not follow them. Then they stopped and she stood on tiptoe, still as a statue, only her hair swinging round her.
‘There is more, my lord.’ Her voice took on a deep, throbbing intensity he had not heard before. ‘There is much more. Or have you seen enough?’
‘If I gaze upon you for a thousand years, I will never see enough.’
With a toss of her head she threw her hair off her shoulders, and stared at him with those smouldering eyes. ‘You stand on the lip of the volcano,’ she warned him. ‘Even at this late stage it is possible for you to draw back. Once you take the plunge there will be no return. For you the universe will change for ever. The price will be high – higher than you can imagine. Are you prepared to pay it?’
‘I am ready.’
She slipped off the robe over one shoulder. Its curve was perfectly harmonious with that of the long, delicate neck. She let the robe fall lower, and one breast strained to be free. She released both. Round, full and womanly, they swung against each other. She let the robe drop until it caught on the curve of her hips. Her belly was as smooth as a field of newly fallen snow. A fiery ruby glowed in the pit of her navel. She undulated her hips and the robe slipped down her slender thighs to garland her ankles.
She stepped out of it and came naked to him, with that long gliding stride. Once again she leant over him and put an arm round the back of his neck. With the other hand she cupped one of her breasts, drew his face towards her and eased the nipple into his mouth. ‘Take suck, my lord,’ she whispered in his ear.
As he drew on it like an infant, the nipple swelled between his lips and it began to exude a thick creamy fluid. Taita relished it, until she pushed his head away and drew it out from between his lips. ‘Be not so greedy,’ she admonished him. ‘My body has many delights for you to savour. You must not satiate yourself too soon.’
She stepped back and ran both hands down her belly with a smoothing motion. His eyes followed them slavishly. She moved her feet apart and bent her knees, spreading her thighs. He watched her hand burrow between them, deep into the cloud of dark hair. Then she brought it out again and held up a forefinger. It was glossy with a pellucid dampness. ‘See how I long for you,’ she whispered huskily, as she touched the tip of her wet finger with her thumb. When she parted them, a gelatinous thread stretched between them. ‘This is the true ambrosia that all men crave.’ She came to him. ‘Open your mouth, my lord.’ She slid her finger between his lips, and the heady scent of her sex pervaded his senses. She reached down with her free hand under the hem of his tunic and took hold of his manroot. Already it was as hard as ironstone, but in her cunning fingers it stretched harder and longer still.
He looked deep into her eyes and saw in them a stark, predatory hunger that had not been there a moment before. He knew that it was not for what she held in her hand but his very soul that she lusted. Now she placed both hands upon him, lifted him to his feet and led him to the couch. She knelt before him, loosened the straps of his sandals and slipped them off his feet. She lifted her head and nuzzled him, taking him between her lips and sucking voraciously. As she stood up again she lifted his tunic over his head, then pushed him back on to the couch. She stepped over him with one leg as though she was mounting a steed, then crouched over him to guide him into her secret depths.
He uttered a deep groan as the pleasure became so intense it was transmuted into agony. She froze immobile over him. The muscles deep inside her pulsed and contracted, tightening as inexorably on him as the coils of a python round its prey. She locked him in a union so pow
erful that neither could break from it. Her eyes gazed into his, filled with the triumphant glare of a warrior about to make the killing stroke. ‘You belong to me.’ Her voice was the hiss of a serpent. ‘Everything you are is mine.’ No more dissembling, she had stripped off her disguise to reveal her true colours.
He felt her carnal invasion begin. It was as though a barbaric horde had besieged the citadel of his soul and was battering down the walls. He rallied all his powers to resist her, closing his gates to deny her entrance, hurling her back from the breach. The look in her eyes changed to consternation as she realized he had enticed her into an ambush. Then her expression became murderous, and she surged back into the attack.
They struggled against each other, at first evenly matched. He moved his body to one side, and when she threw her weight across to counter him, he rolled with her off the couch. Locked together they crashed on to the malachite floor, but she was under him and bore the brunt of his weight. Just for an instant the grip of the muscles deep within her slackened at the shock. He used the lapse to drive himself further inside, trying to reach her centre. She tightened instantly, holding him out. They strained against each other silently, pitting all their forces, holding each other in precarious equilibrium.
He felt her summon her reserves and gathered his own in readiness. Then she launched herself against him in a psychic avalanche. She was forcing a breach in his defences, breaking through into the secret places of his soul. He could feel his body yielding to her. Once again, gloating triumph lit her eyes. He reached down and closed his fist over the Periapt of Lostris that still hung at his throat. In his mind he conjugated the word of power: Mensaar! His manroot leapt with the impulse, and she cried out incoherently as she felt it. ‘Kydash! Ncube!’ he shouted. A bolt of psychic power flashed from the Periapt. Like a lightning strike, it flung Eos from the breach in his soul. Once again they held each other at bay, their strength evenly matched. Locked in each other’s flesh they lay as still as figures carved in ivory.