The Seventh Scroll tes-2

by Wilbur Smith

  around. The engine beat crescendoed as she came tearing back in a long

  rolling shroud of dust and lifted off over their heads. Jannie waggled

  his wings in farewell and, without navigation lights showing, the great

  aircraft blended like a black bat into the darkening sky and disappeared

  almost immediately.

  "Come here." Nicholas led Royan to a seat under the acacia. "I don't

  want that knee to play up again." He pushed her culottes halfway up. her

  thigh and strapped the knee wit han elastic bandage, trying not to make

  his pleasure in this task too apparent. He was pleased to see that the

  bruising had almost faded and there was no longer any swelling.

  He palpated it gently. Her skin was velvety and the flesh beneath it

  firm and warm to the touch. He looked up, and from the expression on her

  face realized that she was enjoying this intimacy as much'as he was. As

  he caught her eye she flushed slightly, and quickly smoothed down her

  culottes.

  She jumped up and said, "Tessay and I have a lot of catching up to do,'

  and hurried across to join her.

  I am leaving a full combat platoon to guard your stores here," Mek

  explained to Nicholas as Tessay led Royan away. "We will travel in a

  very small party as far as the border. I don't expect any trouble. There

  is very little enemy activity this sector at the moment. Lots of

  fighting in the south, but we are quiet here. That is why I chose this

  rendezvous."

  "How far to the Ethiopian border?"Nicholas wanted to know.

  "Five hours' march," Mek told him. "We will slip through one of our

  pipelines after the moon has set. The rest of my men are waiting in the

  entrance to the Abbay gorge. We should rendezvous with them before dawn

  tomorrow."

  "And from there to the monastery?"

  "Another two days' march," Mek replied. "We will be there just in time

  to receive the drop from your fat friend in the fat plane."

  He turned away and gave his last orders to the platoon commander who

  would remain at Roseires to guard the stores. Then he assembled the

  party of six men who would form their escort across the border. Mek

  divided up the loads between them. The most important single item was

  the radio, a modern military lightweight model which Nicholas carried

  himself.

  "Those bags of yours are too difficult to carry. You will have to repack

  them," Mek told Nicholas and Royan. So they emptied their bags and

  stuffed the contents into the two canvas haversacks that Mek had ready

  for them. Two of his men slung the haversacks over their shoulders and

  disappeared into the darkness.

  "He is not taking thatV Mek stared aghast at the bulky legs of the

  theodolite that Sapper had retrieved from one of the pallets. Sapper

  spoke no Arabic, so Nicholas had to translate.

  "Sapper says that it is a delicate instrument. He cannot allow it to be

  dropped from the aircraft. He says that if it is damaged he will not be

  able to do the work he was hired for."

  "Who is going to carry it?" Mek demanded. "My men will mutiny if I try

  to make them do it."

  "Tell the cantankerous bugger that I will carry it myself." Sapper drew

  himself up with dignity. "I wouldn't let one of his great clumsy oafs

  lay a finger on it." He picked up the bundle, placed it over his

  shoulder and stalked away with "a stiff back.

  Mek let the advance guard have a five-minute start, and then he nodded.

  "We can go now."

  Thirty minutes after Big Dolly had taken off, they left the airfield and

  set out across the dark and silent plain, headed into the east. Mek set

  a hard pace. He and Nicholas seemed to have the eyes of a pair of cats,

  Royan thought, as she followed close behind them. They could see in the

  darkness, and only a whispered warning from one of them prevented her

  falling into a hole or tripping over a pile of rocks in the darkness.

  When she did stumble, Nicholas seemed always to be there, reaching back

  to steady her with a strong, firm grip.

  They marched in complete and disciplined silence. It was only every

  hour, when they rested for five minutes, that Nicholas and Mek sat close

  together, and from the few quiet words she picked up Royan realized that

  Nicholas was explaining to him the full reasons for their return to the

  Abbay gorge. She heard Nicholas repeat the names "Mamose' and "Taita'

  often, and Mek's deep voice questioning him at length. Then they would

  be up again and moving forward in the night.

  After a while she lost all sense of the distance they had travelled.

  Only the hourly rest periods orientated her to the passage of time.

  Fatigue crept over her slowly, until it required an effort to lift her

  foot for each pace. Despite her boast, her knee was beginning to ache.

  Now and then she felt Nicholas touch her arm, guiding her over the rough

  places. At other times they would stop abruptly at some whispered

  warning from up front. Then they would stand quietly waiting in the

  darkness, nerves tensed, until at another whisper they would move on

  again at the same pressing pace. Once she smelt the cool muddy effluvium

  of the river on the dry warm night air, and she knew that they must be

  very close to the Nile. Without a word being spoken she sensed the

  nervous tension in the men ahead of her, and was aware of the alertness

  in the way they carried themselves and their weapons.

  "Crossing the border now," Nicholas breathed close to her face, and the

  tension was infectious. She forgot her tiredness, and heard her pulse

  beating in her own ears.

  This time they did not stop for the usual rest break, but continued for

  another hour until slowly she felt the mood of the men changing. Someone

  laughed softly, and there was a tightness in their pace as they swung on

  towards the luminescence in the eastern sky. Abruptly the moon thrust

  its crescent horns above the dark silhouette of faroff mountain ranges.

  "All clear. We are through," Nicholas told her in his normal voice.

  "Welcome back to Ethiopia. How are you feeling?"

  "I' okay."

  "I am tired too." He grinned at her in the moonlight.

  "Pretty soon we will camp and rest. Not much further."

  He was lying, of course- the march went on and on until she wanted to

  weep. And then suddenly she heard the sound of the river again, the soft

  rushing flow of the Nile in the dawn. Up ahead she heard Mek talking to

  the men who were waiting for them, and then Nicholas guided her off the

  path and made her sit while he knelt in front of her and unlaced her

  boots.

  "You did well. I am proud of you," he told her, as he stripped off her

  socks and examined her feet for blisters.

  Then he unbandaged the knee. It was slightly swollen, and he massaged it

  with a skilled and tender touch.

  She sighed softly, "Don't stop. That feels good."

  "I'll give you a Brufen for the inflammation." He dug the pills out of

  his pack and then spread his padded jacket AI for her to lie on. "Sorry,

  the sleeping bags are with our other gear. Have to rough it until Jannie

  makes his air drop."


  He passed her the water bottle, and while she swallowed the pill he

  pulled the tab on a pack of emergency rations. "Not exactly gourmet fare

  He sniffed the contents.

  "In the army we call them rat packs." She fell asleep with her mouth

  still halffilled with tasteless meat loaf and plastic cheese.

  When Nicholas woke her with a mug of hot sweet tea, she saw it was

  already late afternoon. He sat beside her and sipped at his own mug,

  noisily blowing away the steam between each mouthful.

  "You will be pleased to know that Mek is now fully in the picture. He

  has agreed to help us."

  "What have you told him?"

  "Just enough to keep him interested."Nicholas grinned.

  "The theory of progressive disclosure. Never tell everything all at

  once, feed it to them a little at a time. He knows what we are looking

  for, and that we are going to dam a river."

  hat about men to work on the dam?"

  monks at St. Frumentius will do whatever he tells them. He is a great

  hero."

  "What have you promised him in return?"

  "We haven't got round to that yet. I told him that we have no idea what

  we are going to find, and he laughed and said he would trust me."

  "Silly boy, isn't he?"

  "Not exactly how I would describe Mek Nimmur," he murmured. "I think

  when the time is ripe he will let us know what the price of his

  cooperation is." He looked up at that moment. "We were just talking

  about you, Mek."

  Mek strode up to them, and then squatted on his haunches beside

  Nicholas.

  "What were you saying about me

  "Royan says you are a hard bastard, pushing er on a forced march all

  night."

  "Nicholas is spoiling you. I have been watching him fussing over you,'

  he chuckled. "What I say is, treat them rough. Women love it." Then he

  grew serious. "I am sorry, Royan. The border is always a bad place. You

  will find me less of a monster now we are on home ground."

  "We are very grateful for all you are doing." He inclined his head

  gravely, "Nicholas is an old friend, and I hope that you are a new

  friend."

  "I have been terribly distressed. Tessay told me last night that there

  had been trouble at the monastery."

  Mek scowled and tugged at his short beard, pulling a tuft of hair from

  his own chin with the force of his anger.

  "Nogo and his killers. This is just a sample of what we are fighting

  against. We have been rescued from the tyranny of Mengistu, only to be

  plunged into fresh horror."

  "What happened, MA?"

  Speaking tersely but vividly, he described the massacre and the plunder

  of the monastery's treasures. "There was no doubt it was Nogo. Every one

  of the monks that escaped knows him well."

  His anger was too fierce for him to contain, and he stood up abruptly.

  "The monastery means much to all the people of the Gojam. I was

  christened there, by Jali Hora himself. The murder of the abbot and the

  desecration of the church is a terrible outrage." He jammed his cap

  down, on his head. "And now we must get on. The road ahead is steep and

  difficult.

  Now that they were clear of the border, it was safe to move in daylight.

  The second day's march carried them into the depths of the orge. There

  were no foothills: it was like entering through the keep of a vast

  castle. The walls of the great central massif rose up almost four

  thousand feet on either hand, and the river snaked along in the depths,

  its entire length churned by rapids and breaking white water. At noon

  Mek broke the march to rest in a grove of trees beside the river.

  There was a beach below them, sheltered by massive boulders which must

  have rolled down from the cliffs that hung like a rampart above them.

  The five of them sat a little apart from each other.

  Sapper was still smarting from his altercation over the theodolite with

  Mek, and keeping himself aloof. He placed the heavy instrument in a

  conspicuous position and sat ostentatiously close to it. Mek and Tessay

  seemed strangely quiet and withdrawn, until suddenly Tessay reached out

  and grasped Mek's hand..

  I want to tell them, she blurted out impulsively.

  Mek looked away at the river for a moment before he nodded. "Why not?"

  he shrugged at last.

  "I want them to know," Tessay insisted. "They knew Boris. They will

  understand."

  "Do you.,want me to tell them?" Mek asked softly, and he was still

  holding her hand.

  "Yes," she nodded, "it is best that it comes from you." Mek was silent

  for a while, gathering his words, and then he started in that low

  rumbling voice, not looking at them, but watching Tessay's face. "The

  very first moment I looked upon this woman, I knew that she was the one

  that God had sent my way."

  Tessay moved closer to him.

  "Tessay and I said our vows together on the night of Timkat and asked

  for God's forgiveness, and then I took man."

  her away as my wo She laid her head upon his great muscular shoulder.

  "The Russian followed us. He found us here, on this very spot. He tried

  to kill us both."

  Tessay looked down at the beach upon which she and Mek had so nearly

  died, and she shuddered at the memory.

  "We fought," he said simply, "and when he was dead, I sent his body

  floating away down the river."

  "We knew he was dead," Royan told them. "We heard from the people at the

  embassy that the police found his body downstream, near the border. We

  didn't know how it had happened."

  They were all quiet for a while, and then Nicholas broke the silence, "I

  wish I had been there to watch. It must have been one hell of a fight.

  He shook his head in awe.

  "The Russian was good. I am glad I don't have to fight him again," Mek

  admitted, and stood up. "We can reach the monastery before dark, if we

  start now."

  ai Metemma, the newly elected abbot of St. Frumentius, met them on the

  terrace of the monastery overlooking the river. He was only a little

  younger than Jah Hora had been, tall and with a dignified silver head,

  and today he was wearing the blue crown in honour of such a

  distinguished guest as Mek

  After the visitors had bathed and rested for an hour in the cells that

  had been set aside for them, the monks came to lead them to the welcome

  feast that had been prepared.

  When the tej flasks had been refilled for the third time, and the mood

  of the abbot and of his monks had mellowed, Mek began to whisper into

  the old man's ear.

  "You recall the history of St. Frumentius - how God cast him up on our

  shore from the storm-tossed sea, so that he might bring the true faith

  to us?"

  The abbot's eyes filled with tears. "His holy body was entombed here, in

  our nwqdas. The barbarians came and stole the relic away from us. We are

  children without a father. The reason for the building of this church

  and monastery has been taken away," he lamented. "No longer will the

  pilgrims come from every corner of Ethiopia to i pray at his shrine. We

  will be forgotten by the
Church. We are undone. Our monastery will

  perish and our monks will be blown away like dead leaves on the wind."

  "When St. Frumentius came to Ethiopia he was not alone. Another

  Christian came with him from the High Church in Byzantium," Mek reminded

  him in a soft, soothing rumble.

  "St. Antonia." The abbot reached for his tei flask to allay the

  intensity of his sorrow.

  Mek agreed. "He died before St. Frumen "St. Antonia tius, but he was no

  less holy than his brother."

  "St. Antonia was also a great and holy man, deserving of our love and

  veneration." The abbot took a long swallow from the flask.

  "The ways of God are mysterious, are they not?" Mek shook his head at

  the wonder of the workings of the universe.

  "His ways are deep and not for us to question or understand., "And yet

  he is compassionate, and he rewards the devout."

  "He is all'compassionate." The abbot's tears overflowed and ran down his

  cheeks.

  "You and your monastery have suffered a grievous loss.

  The sacred relic of St. Frumentius has been taken from you alas, never

  to be recovered. But what if God were to send you another? What if he

  were to send you the sacred body of St. Antonia?"

  The abbot looked up through his tears, his expression suddenly

  calculating. That would be a miracle indeed."

  Mek Nimmur placed his arm around the old man's shoulders and whispered

  quietly in his ear, and Mai Metemma stopped weeping and listened

  intently.

  have obtained your workers for you," Mek told Nicholas as they began the

  march up the valley the next morning. "Mai Metemma has promised to give

  us a hundred men within two days and another five hundred to follow them

  within the next week. He is handing out indulgences to all those who

  volunteer to work on the dam. They will be spared the fires of purgatory

  if they take part in such a glorious project as the recovery of the holy

  relic of St. Antonia."

  Both the women stopped in their tracks and stared at him.

  "What did you promise the poor old man?" Tessay demanded.

  "A body to replace the one that Nogo plundered from the church. If we do

  discover the tomb, then the monastery's share will be the mummy of

  Mamose."

  "That's a mean thing to do,"

  A Royan exploded. "You will cheat him into helping us."

  "It is not a cheat." Mek's dark eyes flashed at the accusation. "The

  relic that they lost was not the veritable body of St. Frumentius, and