The Quest (Novels of Ancient Egypt)

by Wilbur Smith

  Taita, Meren and the two girls strung their bows, mounted and set off in pursuit of the long-necked dappled beasts. The horses were as glad as their riders to be ashore: they stretched out their necks and whisked their tails as they tore across the open ground. The giraffes saw them coming from far off, forsook the protection of the acacia trees and broke into a ponderous rocking gallop across the plain. Their long tails with tufted black tips curled back over their haunches, and their legs on each side swung forward together so that they appeared to be moving away only slowly. However, the hunters had to push the horses to their top speed to overhaul them. As they came up behind them they rode into the dustcloud thrown up by the giraffes’ hoofs and were forced to slit their eyes to prevent them being blinded. Taita picked out a half-grown bull calf lagging near the rear of the herd whose flesh would be sufficient to feed the entire party and, just as important, tender and succulent.

  ‘That’s the one we want!’ he shouted, as he pointed it out to the others. As they closed with the animal Taita drew and shot his first arrow into the back of its leg, aiming to sever the great tendon and cripple it. The giraffe staggered and almost fell, but regained its balance and ploughed on, but at a hampered pace, heavily favouring the wounded limb. Taita signalled to the others. They split into two pairs and pressed in on each side of the animal. From a range of only a few yards they shot arrow after arrow into its heaving chest. They were trying to drive through into its heart and lungs, but the skin was as tough as a war shield and the vital organs lay deep inside. Bleeding heavily, the beast ran on, swishing its tail and uttering a soft grunt of pain as each arrowhead thumped into it.

  The riders edged their mounts closer and closer to shorten the range and make their arrows tell more effectively. Sidudu was slightly behind Meren and he had not noticed how recklessly she was riding in on the quarry until he glanced over his shoulder.

  ‘Too close!’ he yelled at her. ‘Sheer away, Sidudu!’ But the warning came too late: the giraffe bucked and lashed out at her with its back leg, a mighty kick that made her mount shy. Sidudu lost her seat and was thrown over its head. She fell heavily and rolled in a cloud of dust almost under the giraffe’s hoofs. It loosed a second kick at her that would have shattered her skull had it landed square, but instead it flew over her head. When at last she stopped rolling and sliding she lay deathly still on the ground. Meren turned his own horse back immediately, and jumped down.

  As he ran to where she lay, she sat up groggily and gave an uncertain laugh. ‘The ground is harder than it looks.’ Gingerly she felt her temples. ‘And my head is softer than I thought.’

  Neither Taita nor Fenn had seen her fall and raced on after the giraffe. ‘Our arrows are not penetrating deep enough to kill him,’ Taita shouted across at her. ‘I must bring him down with the sword.’

  ‘Don’t risk your neck,’ Fenn shouted anxiously, but he ignored the warning and kicked his feet free of the stirrups.

  ‘Take Windsmoke’s head,’ he told her, and tossed the reins to her. Then he drew the sword from the scabbard that hung between his shoulder-blades and vaulted to the ground. He used the momentum of the mare’s gallop to throw himself forward so that for a brief space he was able to match the speed of the giraffe. With each pace its huge rear hoof swung higher than his head and he ducked under it. But as the giraffe planted its nearest hoof and placed its weight upon it, the tendon stood out proud beneath the dappled skin as it came under pressure. It was as thick as Taita’s wrist.

  On the run he took a double-handed grip on the sword hilt and swung the blade hard, aiming to severe the tendon just above the hock. He caught it, and it parted with a rubbery snapping sound. The leg collapsed, and the giraffe went down, sliding on its haunches. It tried to heave itself upright again but the leg was crippled. Instead it overbalanced and rolled on to its side. For a moment its neck was stretched out along the ground and within his reach. Taita sprang forward and stabbed the point into the back, neatly parting the joint in the vertebrae. Then he jumped back as the giraffe kicked again convulsively. Then all four of its legs stiffened and were still. Its eyelids quivered and the lashes meshed shut over the huge eyes.

  As Taita stood over the carcass, Fenn rode up to him, leading Windsmoke. ‘You were so quick.’ Her voice was filled with awe. ‘Like a peregrine on a pigeon.’ She jumped down and ran to him, her hair in a wind tangle, her lovely face flushed with the thrill of the chase.

  ‘And you are so lovely you astonish my eyes each time I look at you.’ He held her at arm’s length to study her face. ‘How could you believe for a moment that I would ever leave you?’

  ‘We will speak more of this later, but here come Meren and Sidudu.’

  Meren had recaptured Sidudu’s horse, and she was mounted again. As she came nearer they saw that her bodice was ripped so that her breasts bounced free. She was coated with dust and there were twigs in her hair. One cheek was grazed but she was smiling. ‘Ho, Fenn,’ she shouted. ‘Was that not rich sport?’

  The four rode to the nearest clump of acacia trees and dismounted in the shade to rest the horses. They passed the waterskin round, and when they had slaked their thirst, Sidudu slipped her tunic over her shoulders and stood naked to allow Taita to assess her injuries. It did not take long.

  ‘Put on your tunic again, Sidudu. You have broken no bones,’ he assured her. ‘All you need is a bathe in the river. Your bruises will fade in a few days. Now Fenn and I have something of great moment to discuss with you and Meren.’ This was the true reason that Taita had taken the pair out hunting. He wanted them alone so that he could inform them of his plans.

  The sun had passed its noon before he allowed Meren and Sidudu to return to the river where the flotilla waited for them. By then their mood had changed: they were worried and unhappy.

  ‘Promise that you will not go away for all time.’ Sidudu embraced Fenn fervently. ‘To me, you are dearer than any sister could ever be. I could not bear to lose you.’

  ‘Although you will not see us, Taita and I will be with you. It is just a small magic. You have seen it done many times before,’ Fenn assured her.

  Then Meren spoke out: ‘I trust your good sense, Magus, although it seems that there is a great deal less of that than there once was. I remember a time when it was you who always cautioned me to prudence. Now it is I who must play nursemaid to you. It is strange how reckless a man becomes when something dangles between his legs.’

  Taita laughed. ‘A wise observation, good Meren. But do not worry yourself unduly. Fenn and I know what we are about. Go back to the boats and play your part.’

  Meren and Sidudu rode off towards the river, but kept turning in their saddles to look back anxiously. They waved farewell a dozen times before they were out of sight.

  ‘Now we must set the scene for our disappearance,’ Taita told Fenn, and they went to fetch their rolled sleeping mats which were tied behind the saddles. In the bedrolls they had brought with them fresh clothing. They stripped off their dusty, sweat-stained tunics and stood for a moment to enjoy the breeze upon their naked bodies. Taita stooped to pick up his clean tunic, but Fenn stopped him. ‘There is no great hurry, my lord. It will be some time before the others return to search for us. We should take advantage of this moment, and that we are unencumbered by our clothing.’

  ‘When Meren reports our demise to Tinat, the whole company will race here to find our remains. They might arrive to find us very much alive.’

  Fenn reached down between his legs. ‘Do you recall what Meren said about this? How it makes a man reckless? Well, I propose that we be reckless together.’

  ‘When you hold me like that, you could lead me anywhere, and I would make no protest.’

  She smiled slyly and sank down on her knees before him.

  ‘What are you doing now?’ he demanded. ‘This is something you never learnt from me.’

  ‘Imbali gave me precise instructions. But hush now, my lord, I will not be able to reply to any more questi
ons. My mouth will be otherwise engaged.’

  They cut the matter fine, and were only just able to complete setting the stage for their subterfuge before they saw the dust of galloping horses approaching from the direction of the river. They moved back into the grove of acacias and sat quietly together at the base of a tree. They held each other’s hands and wove round themselves a spell of concealment.

  The hammering of hoofs grew louder until Tinat and Meren appeared out of the dustcloud, riding hard at the head of a large band of armed men. As soon as they saw Windsmoke and Whirlwind grazing at the edge of the grove, they swerved towards them and came up only twenty paces from where Taita and Fenn were sitting.

  ‘Oh, by the guts and liver of Seth!’ Meren cried. ‘See the blood upon the saddles! It is even as I told you. The djinni have seized them and carried them away.’

  The dark stains were giraffe blood, but Tinat was not to know that. ‘By the coupling of Isis and Osiris, this is a tragic business.’ He swung down from the saddle. ‘Search the area for any sign of the magus and his consort.’

  Within a short time they had discovered Taita’s ripped, bloodstained tunic. Meren held it in both hands and buried his face in it. ‘Taita has been taken from us. I am a son without a father,’ he sobbed.

  ‘I fear that good Meren is overplaying his part,’ Taita whispered to Fenn.

  ‘I never suspected such talent in him,’ she agreed. ‘He would be superb as Horus in the temple pageant.’

  ‘How can we go back to Pharaoh and tell him that we allowed Taita to be taken?’ Tinat lamented. ‘We must at least find his body.’

  ‘I told you, Colonel Tinat. I saw them both taken up into the sky by the djinni,’ Meren tried to dissuade him.

  Tinat, though, was dogged and determined: ‘Nonetheless we must continue our search. We must comb every inch of the grove,’ he insisted. Once again, the men spread out in an extended line and advanced through the trees.

  Meren and Tinat were in the lead and Meren walked within arm’s length of where they sat. His face was set in a formidable frown and he muttered to himself under his breath: ‘Come now, Tinat, don’t be so pigheaded. Let us go back to the boats and leave the magus to his tricks.’

  At that moment there was a shout as a searcher found Fenn’s bloodstained tunic. Meren hurried to him and they heard him arguing with Tinat, trying to persuade him to abandon the search. Presented with the evidence of the bloody garments Tinat at last gave in. They took Windsmoke and Whirlwind and rode back to the carcass of the giraffe to butcher it and carry away the meat to the boats. Taita and Fenn stood up, picked up their weapons and wandered away towards the north, angling back to meet the Nile again far downstream.

  ‘I do so love being alone with you,’ Fenn said dreamily. ‘Shall we stop and rest again under the shade of that tree?’

  ‘It seems I have awakened in you the sleeping dragon.’

  ‘I have discovered that my little dragon never sleeps,’ she assured him. ‘She is always wide awake and ready to play. I hope she does not weary you, my lord?’

  Taita led her to the trees. ‘It will be pleasantly diverting to see who will first weary whom,’ said he.

  The entire company were plunged into mourning when they heard the dire tidings of Taita’s disappearance. The next day when they had reloaded the horses and set off again downstream, they went like a procession of funeral barges. Not only had they lost the magus, but Fenn, too, was gone. Her beauty and winsome ways had been talismans of good fortune to all the company. The younger women like Sidudu, especially those she had set free from the breeding farms, worshipped her.

  ‘Though I know it is not true, even I feel bereft without her,’ Sidudu whispered to Meren. ‘Why is Taita playing this cruel trick?’

  ‘He must make a new life for himself and for Fenn. Few of those who knew him when he was ancient and silver-haired will understand his magical transformation. They will see in his rebirth some malevolent act of black witchcraft. He and Fenn will become objects of fear and loathing.’

  ‘So they will go to some place where we will not be able to follow them.’

  ‘I cannot comfort you for I fear that it will be so.’ He placed his arm round her shoulders. ‘From here on, you and I must make our own way. We must find strength and purpose in each other.’

  ‘But what will happen to them? Where will they go?’ Sidudu persisted.

  ‘Taita seeks a wisdom that you and I cannot understand. All his life has been a quest. Now that his life has become eternal, so the quest also.’ He thought about what he had said, then went on, in what was for him a rare flash of insight: ‘That could be either a great blessing or a great burden.’

  ‘Will we never set eyes upon them again? Please tell me that it will not be so.’

  ‘We will see them again before they go. Of that we can be certain. They would never treat us so cruelly. But one day soon they will be gone.’

  While Meren was speaking he was watching the near bank as it slid by, looking out for the sign that Taita had promised he would leave. At last he saw a bright prick of light from the bank, a reflection of sunlight off polished metal. He shaded his eyes and peered ahead. ‘There it is!’ He steered in towards the bank. The rowers shipped their oars. Meren jumped the gap between the deck and dry land and ran to the sword that stood on end, its point buried in the earth. He drew it out and brandished it over his head. ‘Taita’s sword!’ he called to Tinat in the following galley. ‘This is an omen!’

  Tinat sent a shore party across to him, and they searched the bank for half a league in either direction, but found no further sign of human presence.

  Taita is a crafty old fox, Meren thought. He has played this charade to such perfection that even I find myself almost taken in by it. He smiled to himself, but kept a solemn mien as he told the men, ‘It is futile to continue the search. These affairs are beyond our understanding. If Taita, the magus, has succumbed, what chance do we stand? We must go back to the flotilla before we ourselves are overwhelmed.’ They obeyed with alacrity, consumed by superstitious dread, and eager to take refuge in the galleys. As soon as all were safely embarked, Meren gave the order to continue the voyage. The rowers took their seats on the benches and pulled for a league in silence.

  Hilto was at the stroke oar in the bows. Suddenly he lifted his head and began to sing. His voice was rough but powerful, the voice that had commanded men over the din of battle. It rang out across the silent river:

  ‘Hail, thou dread goddess, Hag-en-Sa, whose years stretch into eternity.

  Hail, thou who art the keeper of the first pylon.

  Thou abidest in the uttermost parts of the earth. Thou diest each day at the setting of the sun.

  In the dawn thou art renewed. Each day thou arisest with thy youth renewed as the bloom of the Lotus.

  Taita possesses the words of power.

  Let him pass the first pylon!’

  It was a chapter from the Book of the Dead, a lament for a king. At once the company took up the chant and sang the refrain:

  ‘Let him go where we may not follow.

  Let him know the mysteries of the dark places.

  He hath become the wise serpent of the mighty God Horus.’

  Hilto sang the next verse:

  ‘Hail, Seth, the destroyer of worlds.

  Hail, Mighty One of Souls, thou divine soul who inspireth great dread.

  Let the spirit-soul of Taita pass the second pylon.

  He possesses words of power.

  Let Taita make his way to the Lotus Throne of Osiris, behind which stand Isis and Hathor.’

  The others came in together with some of the women singing a descant:

  ‘Let him go where we may not follow.

  Let him know the mysteries of the dark places.

  Let him pass!

  Let him pass!’

  Standing in the stern of the leading boat, gripping the steering oar, Meren sang with them. Beside him, Sidudu’s voice quivered and al
most broke under the weight of her emotion as she reached the higher notes.

  Meren felt a light touch upon his muscled right arm that rested on the steering oar. He started with surprise and looked about. Nobody was there, yet the touch had been distinct. He had learnt enough while he had been a novice in the service of Taita not to stare directly at the source, so he turned his gaze aside and saw a vague shape appear in the periphery of his vision. When he focused upon it, it disappeared.

  ‘Magus, are you here?’ he whispered, so that his lips did not move.

  The voice that answered him was just as airy: ‘I am with you, and Fenn stands beside Sidudu.’

  As they had planned, they had come on board while the galley was moored to the bank at the spot where Taita had planted the sword. Meren tried not to show his relief and joy in any way that the others might see. He switched his gaze and saw at the opposite edge of his vision another airy shape appear close beside Sidudu.

  ‘Fenn stands at your left hand,’ he warned Sidudu, who looked round in astonishment. ‘No, you cannot see her. Ask her to touch you.’ As Sidudu felt the brush of Fenn’s invisible fingers on her cheek her smile became radiant.

  When they moored in the late afternoon to set up the zareeba on the bank, Meren addressed the assembled throng: ‘We will set up a shrine on the foredeck of the leading galley in the place they favoured while they were with us. It will be a refuge where the spirit-souls of Taita and Fenn can rest during the ninety days while they are trapped in this plane of existence, the period before they may pass the first pylon on the road to the underworld.’

  They rigged a screen of reed matting round the small space, and laid out the sleeping mats and possessions of the missing pair. Each evening Sidudu placed an offering of food, beer and water behind it, and by morning they had been consumed. The company was much encouraged to know that the spirit-soul of the magus still watched over them, and the mood in the flotilla lightened. Men smiled and laughed once more, but they kept well clear of the shrine on the foredeck.