‘Describe the rituals.’ Taita was listening with great attention. ‘Every detail may be important.’
‘At noon every day three of the priests descended in procession to the head of the cataract. They drew water in pitchers and carried it to the temple, dancing and exulting in some strange dialect.’
‘Not the Tenmass?’ Taita demanded.
‘No, Magus. I did not recognize it.’
‘That is all that happened? Or do you remember anything else? You spoke of sacrifices.’
‘They bought black goats and black fowls from us. They were very particular about the colour. They had to be pure black. They took them into the temple. I heard singing, and afterwards I saw smoke and smelt burnt flesh.’
‘What else?’ Taita insisted.
Kalulu thought for a moment. ‘One of the priests died. I do not know why. The other eight carried his body to the lakeside. They laid it naked on the sand. Then they retreated up the slope of the bluff. From there they watched as the crocodiles came out of the lake and dragged it under the waters.’ The dwarf made a gesture of finality. ‘Within weeks another priest arrived at the temple.’
‘Coming from the west again?’ Taita hazarded.
‘I know not, for I did not see him arrive. One evening there were eight, the next morning there were nine once more.’
‘So the number of priests was significant. Nine. The cipher of the Lie.’
Taita mused for a while then asked, ‘What happened after that?’
‘For more than two years the routine of the priests was maintained. Then I was aware that something of consequence was about to take place. They lit five beacon fires around the temple and kept them burning day and night for many months.’
‘Five fires,’ Taita said. ‘At what positions did they set them?’
‘There are five stele built into the outer wall. Did you remark them?’
Kalulu asked.
‘Yes. They form the points of a great pentagram, the mystical design over which the temple stands.’
‘I have never been inside the temple. I know nothing of any pentagram. I know only that the fires were placed at the five points around the outer wall,’ Kalulu told them.
‘Was that all that occurred which was untoward?’
‘Then another person joined the brotherhood.’
‘Another priest?’
‘I think not. This person was clad in black, not red. An airy black veil covered the features, so I was unable to tell with any certainty if it was male or female. However, from the shape of the figure beneath the robes and the grace of its movement I thought it might be a woman. She emerged from the temple each morning at sunrise. She prayed before each of the five fires, then returned to the temple precincts.’
‘Did you ever see her face?’
‘She was always veiled. She moved with an ethereal, haunting grace. The other priests treated her with the greatest reverence, prostrating themselves before her. She must have been the high priestess of their sect.’
‘Did you observe any significant signs in the heavens or in nature while she inhabited the temple?’
‘Indeed, Magus, there were many strange celestial signs. On the day I first saw her pray at the temple fires, the evening star reversed its track through the skies. Shortly thereafter another insignificant and unnamed star swelled up into monstrous proportion and was consumed by flames. During all her tenure in the temple strange lights of many colours danced in the northern night sky. All these omens flew in the face of nature.’
‘Do you believe they were the works of the veiled woman?’
‘I say only that they occurred when she arrived. It may have been mere happenstance, I do not know.’
‘Was that all?’ Taita asked.
Kalulu shook his head firmly. ‘There was more. Nature seemed plunged into turmoil. Our crops in the field turned yellow and withered. The cattle aborted their calves. The paramount chief of our tribe was bitten by a snake and died almost at once. His senior wife gave birth to a son with two heads.’
‘Dire omens.’ Taita looked grave.
‘There was worse to follow. The weather was disturbed. A mighty wind blew through our town on the hill, and ripped off the roofs. A fire destroyed the tribal totem hut and consumed the relics and jujus of our ancestors. Hyenas dug up the corpse of the paramount chief and devoured it.’
‘This was a direct onslaught on your people, your ancestors and your religion,’ Taita murmured.
‘Then the earth moved and shook itself like a living beast under our feet. The waters of the lake leapt into the air, boiling white and furious. The fish shoals disappeared. The lake birds flew away towards the west. The waves crushed our canoes where they lay upon the beaches. They ripped out our fishing nets. The people begged me to intercede with the angry gods of our tribe.’
‘What could you do in the face of the elements?’ Taita wondered.
‘They had set you a daunting task.’
‘I came to this place where we now sit. I cast a spell, the most potent in my power. I evoked the shades of our ancestors to placate the gods of the lake. But they were deaf to my pleas, and blind to the suffering of my tribe. They shook these hills on which we sit as a bull elephant shakes a ngong nut tree. The earth danced so that men could not stand upright. Deep cracks opened like the jaws of hungry lions and swallowed men and women with their infants strapped upon their backs.’ By now Kalulu was weeping. His tears dripped from his chin on to his naked chest. One of his bodyguards wiped them away with a linen cloth.
‘While I watched, the waters of the lake began to roll and thunder upon the beaches with increasing fury. They leapt half-way up the cliff below us. The spray burst over me in torrents. I was blinded and deafened. I looked across at the temple. Through the clouds and the spray, I saw the black-robed figure standing alone before the gateway. She had her arms held out towards the tumultuous lake like a wife welcoming the return of her beloved husband from the wars.’ Kalulu panted for breath and struggled to control his body. His arms jerked and danced, his head shook like that of a man with the palsy. His features convulsed as though he were in a fit.
‘Peace!’ Taita laid a hand on his head, and slowly the dwarf calmed and relaxed, but the tears still poured down his face. ‘You need not continue if this is too painful.’
‘I must tell you. Only you will understand.’ He took a gulp of air, then gabbled on: ‘The waters opened and dark masses pushed through the waves. At first I thought they were living monsters from the depths.’ He pointed at the nearest island. ‘There was no island. The lake waters were open and empty. Then that mass of rock pushed through the surface. The island you look upon now was born like an infant squeezed from the womb of the lake.’ His hand trembled wildly as he pointed at it. ‘But that was not the end. Once again the waters were riven asunder. Another great mass of rock rose up from the bottom of the lake. That is it! The Red Stones! They were glowing like metal from the flames of the forge. The waters hissed and turned to steam as they were pushed aside. The stones were half molten, hardening as they emerged from the depths into the air. The clouds of steam they generated were so dense as to obscure almost everything, but when they parted I saw that the temple was untouched. Every stone of the walls was in place, the roof firm. But the black-robed figure had disappeared. The priests also had gone. I never saw any of them again. The Red Stones kept swelling, like a gigantic pregnant belly, until they were the size and shape they are now, sealing off the mouth of the Nile. The river shrivelled to nothing, while the rocks and sandbanks in its bed appeared from beneath the waters.’
Kalulu gesticulated to his bodyguards. One ran forward to support his head while another held a gourd to his lips. He swallowed noisily. The liquid had a pungent smell and seemed to calm him at once. He pushed aside the gourd and went on talking to Taita.
‘I was so overcome by these cataclysmic events that I ran from this hut down the slope of the bluff.’ He pointed out the route he had ta
ken.
‘I was level with that clump of trees when the ground split and I was hurled into the deep trench that opened in front of me. I tried to claw my way out, but one of my legs was broken. I had almost reached the top when, like the jaws of a man-eating monster, the earth closed on me as swiftly as it had opened. Both my legs were caught, the bones crushed to fragments. I lay there for two days before survivors from Tamafupa found me. They tried to free me but my legs were trapped between two slabs of rock. I asked them to bring me a knife and an axe. While they held me, I cut off my legs, and bound up the stumps with bark cloth. When my tribe fled from this accursed place into the marshes of Kioga they carried me with them.’
‘You have lived again through all the terrible events of those days,’ Taita told him. ‘It has tried your strength to the limit. I have been deeply moved by all you have told me. Call your women. Let them carry you back to the safety of Tamafupa, where you must rest.’
‘What will you do, Magus?’
‘Colonel Meren is ready to quench the heated rockface to find out if it will shatter. I will assist him.’
The mountain of wood stacked against the rock wall had burnt down to a pile of glowing ash. The red rock was so hot that the air around it shimmered and wavered like a desert mirage. Four gangs of men gathered around the shadoof wheels on top of the Red Stones. None had any experience of rock-breaking. However, Taita had explained it to them.
‘Are you ready, Magus?’ Meren’s voice echoed up from the gorge.
‘Ready!’ Taita shouted back.
‘Start pumping!’ Meren cried.
The men seized the handles of the shadoofs and put their full weight behind them. Their heads bobbed up and down to the rhythm Habari beat on a native drum. The line of empty buckets dipped into the lake surface, filled, then rose to the top of the wall. There, they spilled over into the wooden trough that channelled the water over the hump of the wall to cascade down the heated rockface on the opposite side. Immediately the air was filled with dense white clouds of hissing steam that enveloped the wall and the men on top of it. Those on the handles never faltered, and water streamed over the lip. The steam billowed, and the contracting rock groaned and growled.
‘Is it breaking?’ Taita shouted.
At the base of the wall Meren was lost in the dense steam. His reply came back, almost drowned in the rush of water and the hiss of steam.
‘I cannot see anything. Keep them pumping, Magus!’
The men on the shadoofs were tiring, and Taita replaced them with fresh teams. They kept the water pouring down the face, and gradually the hissing clouds of steam began to subside and disperse.
‘Pump!’ Meren roared. Taita changed the teams again, then gingerly approached the lip and peered over, but the curvature of the cliff hid the base of the wall. ‘I am going down,’ he called to the men on the pumps.
‘Don’t stop until I give the order.’ He hurried to the path that led into the gorge and made his way down at his best speed. The steam had cleared sufficiently for him to make out the shapes of Meren and Fenn below. They had moved much closer to the wall, and were discussing the result of the experiment.
‘Don’t get too close to the rockface,’ Taita called, but they did not seem to hear him. Water was still pouring down it and had washed the ashes into the dry riverbed.
‘Ho, Meren! What success?’ Taita called, as he hurried down the path.
Meren looked up at him, his expression so comically mournful that Taita laughed. ‘Why so glum?’
‘Nothing!’ Meren lamented. ‘All that effort in vain.’ He moved into the eddies of steam and stretched out his hand towards the rock.
‘Take care!’ Taita shouted. ‘It is still hot.’ Meren pulled his hand back, then drew his sword. He reached out with the point of the bronze blade.
Fenn had moved close to his side. ‘The rock is still intact,’ she cried.
‘No cracks.’ She and Meren were only an arm’s length from the steaming face when Taita came up behind them. He saw that Fenn was correct: the red rock wall was blackened by the flames but unscathed.
Meren tapped it with the point of his sword. It sounded solid. Angrily, he raised the sword to deliver a harder blow and relieve his frustration.
The steam clouds in which they were enveloped were moist and warm, but Taita felt a sudden intense contrast, an icy chill on his arms and face. Immediately he opened his Inner Eye. Through it he saw a tiny spot appear on the soot-blackened stone where Meren had struck it. It glowed red, then took on the shape of the cat’s paw, symbol of Eos of the Dawn.
‘Get back!’ Taita ordered, and used the voice of power to reinforce the command. At the same time he lunged forward, seized Fenn’s arm and flung her away. But his warning to Meren had come too late.
Although Meren tried to check his stroke, the point of his sword touched the glowing spot again. With a sound like shattering glass the small area of rock directly beneath the symbol of Eos exploded outwards and a blast of splinters struck him full in the face. Although most were small fragments, they were as sharp as needles. His head snapped back, he dropped the sword and clutched at his face with both hands. Blood poured between his fingers and ran down on to his chest.
Taita ran to him and caught his arm to steady him. Fenn had been thrown to the ground, but now she scrambled up and ran to help.
Between them they led Meren back from the steaming rock, found a patch of shade and sat him down.
‘Stand back!’ Taita ordered the men, who had followed and were now crowding forward. ‘Give us room to work.’ To Fenn, he said, ‘Bring water.’
She ran to a gourd and brought it to him. Taita lifted Meren’s hands away from his ruined face. She exclaimed with horror, but Taita cautioned her to silence with a frown.
‘Am I still as beautiful?’ Meren tried to grin, but his eyes were tightly closed, the lids swollen and clotted with blood.
‘It’s a great improvement,’ Taita assured him, and began to wash away the blood. Some of the cuts were superficial, but three were deep. One ran through the bridge of his nose, the second through his upper lip, but the third and worst had pierced his right eyelid. Taita could make out a shard of stone embedded in the eye cavity.
‘Fetch my medicine bag,’ he ordered Fenn, who ran to where their equipment had been placed and brought back the leather satchel.
Taita opened the roll of surgical instruments and selected a pair of ivory forceps with a probe. ‘Can you open your eyes?’ he asked gently.
Meren made an attempt and the left lid opened a little, but although the damaged lid quivered, the right eye remained closed.
‘No, Magus.’ His voice was subdued.
‘Is it sore?’ Fenn asked timorously. ‘Oh, poor Meren.’ She took his hand.
‘Sore? Not in the least. Your touch has made it better.’
Taita placed a square of leather between Meren’s teeth. ‘Bite down on that.’ He closed the jaws of the forceps over the fragment of stone and, with a single firm movement, drew it out. Meren grunted and his face contorted. Taita laid aside the forceps and, with a finger on each eyelid, gently drew them apart. Behind him he heard Fenn gasp.
‘Is it bad?’ Meren asked.
Taita remained silent. The eyeball had burst and the bloody jelly dribbled down his cheek. Taita knew at once that Meren would never see with that eye again. Gently he prised open the lid of the other and stared into it. He saw the pupil dilate and focus normally. He held up his other hand. ‘How many fingers?’ he asked.
‘Three,’ Meren answered.
‘You aren’t completely blind, then,’ Taita told him. Meren was a tough warrior. It was neither necessary nor advisable to shield him from the truth.
‘Only half-way there?’ Meren asked, his smile lopsided ‘That was why the gods gave you two eyes,’ Taita said, and began to bind up the ruined one with a white linen bandage.
‘I hate the witch. This is her doing,’ said Fenn, and began to weep softly. ‘I h
ate her. I hate her.’
‘Make a litter for the colonel,’ Taita ordered the men, who waited close at hand.
‘I don’t need one,’ Meren protested. ‘I can walk.’
‘The first law of the cavalry,’ Taita reminded him. ‘Never walk when you can ride.’
As soon as the litter was ready they helped Meren on to it and started back to Tamafupa. They had been moving for a short time when Fenn called to Taita: ‘There are strange men up there, watching us.’ She pointed across the dried-up river course. On the skyline stood a small group of men. Fenn counted them swiftly. ‘Five.’
They were dressed in loincloths, but their torsos were bare. They all carried spears and clubs. Two were armed with bows. The tallest among them stood at their head. He wore a headdress of red flamingo feathers.
Their bearing was arrogant and hostile. Two of the men behind the chief seemed wounded or injured: they were being supported by their comrades.
‘Magus, they have been in a fight,’ Shofar, one of the litter-bearers, pointed out.
‘Hail them!’ Taita ordered. Shofar shouted and waved. None of the warriors showed any reaction. Shofar shouted again. The chief in the flamingo headdress lifted his spear in a gesture of command and immediately his men disappeared from the skyline, leaving the hillside deserted.
A distant chorus of shouts broke the silence that followed their departure.
‘That comes from the town.’ Fenn turned quickly in that direction.
‘There has been trouble.’
When they had left Taita at the Red Stones, Kalulu’s bodyguards carried him down the river valley towards Tamafupa. He was in such distress that they went slowly and carefully. They halted every few hundred yards to let him drink from his gourd of medicine, to wet his face and wipe it with a damp cloth. Measured against the arc of the sun, it was almost two hours before they started the climb from the valley towards the gates of Tamafupa.
As they entered a thicket of dense kittar thorn a tall figure stepped onto the pathway. Kalulu and his women recognized him, not only by his headdress of flamingo feathers. The women lowered the litter to the ground and prostrated themselves.