‘I praise you and Fenn, your woman with hair like sunlight dancing on the waters of the Nile.’
Imbali and Fenn embraced and both women wept. Nakonto and Imbali followed the flotilla for half of the morning, running along the riverbank, keeping pace with the leading boat, waving, dancing and shouting farewell. At last they halted, and Fenn and Taita stood together in the stern to watch their tall figures grow small with distance.
As the first dreary vista of the papyrus banks appeared ahead, stretching away to a boundless horizon, Nakonto’s nephews took their place in the bows, and as they entered the watery wilderness they signalled the turns and twists of the narrow channel to Meren on the steering oar.
With the Nile running high, the great swamp was water and more water, with no dry landings, so they were bound to the boats day after day. But the wind that had driven them northwards remained constant and true, filling the lateen sails and driving down the swarms of stinging insects that rose from the reeds. Fenn thought often about the unnatural compliancy of that wind. At last she decided that Taita was exerting the extraordinary powers he had inherited from Eos to make even the elements sway to his will.
In these conditions, the journey through the watery wastes was not unendurable. There were few demands on Taita and he was able to leave the navigation to Meren and Nakonto’s nephews, and all other matters to That. He and Fenn passed most of the days and nights in their own private space on the foredeck. The subjects that dominated most of their conversations were, first, Taita’s confrontation with Eos and, second, his discovery of the Font and its miraculous properties. Fenn never tired of his descriptions of Eos.
‘Was she the most beautiful woman you have ever seen?’
‘No, Fenn. You are the most beautiful.’
‘Do you say so to still my busy tongue or do you truly mean it?’
‘You are my little fish, and your beauty is that of the golden dorado, the loveliest creature in all the oceans.’
‘And Eos? What of her? Was she not beautiful, also?’
‘She was very beautiful, but in the same way that a great killer shark is beautiful. She possessed a sinister and terrifying beauty.’
‘When she joined her body to yours, was it the same with her as it is with me?’
‘It was as different as death is from life. With her it was cold and brutal. With you it is warm, filled with love and compassion. With her I was locked into savage warfare. With you it is a meeting and blending of our separate spirits into some mystic whole that is infinitely greater than its parts.’
‘Oh, Taita, I want so much to believe you. I know and understand why you had to go to Eos and join with her, but still I am consumed with jealousy. Imbali told me that men can take pleasure with many women. Did she not pleasure you?’
‘There are no words to express how I loathed her infernal embrace. I was frightened and repelled by every word she uttered, every touch of her hands and body. She soiled and corrupted me so that I believed I would never be clean again.’
‘When I listen to you speak so, I am no longer jealous. I am left only with a feeling of great compassion for what you suffered. Will you ever find surcease?’
‘I was washed clean in the Blueness of the Font. The burdens of age, guilt and sin were lifted from me.’
‘Tell me about the Font again. What did you feel as you were enveloped in the Blue?’ Once again he described the miracle of his transmutation. When he had finished she was silent for a space, and then she said, ‘The Font has been destroyed in the eruptions of the volcanoes, in the same way that Eos herself was.’
‘It is the pulsing artery of the earth. It is the divine power of nature, which quickens and controls all life. It can never be destroyed, for if that ever happened, all creation would perish too.’
‘If it still exists, then what has become of it? Where has it gone?’
‘It was sucked back into the core of the earth, just as the seas are sucked away by the tides and the moon.’
‘Has it been placed for ever beyond the reach of mankind?’
‘I believe not. I believe that in time it must surface again. Perhaps it has already done so in some remote part of the earth.’
‘Where, Taita? Where will it reappear?’
‘I know only what Eos knew. It will be closely associated with a large volcano and within proximity of a vast body of water. Fire, earth, air and water, the four elements.’
‘Will any man rediscover the Font?’
‘It was driven deep into the earth when the volcano of Etna in the far north erupted. At that time, it was where Eos had her lair. She was driven out by the fires. She wandered for over a hundred years in search of the place where the Blue River had come to the surface again. She found it in the Mountains of the Moon. Now it has been driven under again.’
‘How long will you remain young, Taita?’
‘This I cannot tell with any certainty. Eos remained young for over a thousand years. I know it from her boasts, and from the certain knowledge I took from her.’
‘And now that you have bathed in the Font, you will do the same,’ she said. ‘You will live for a thousand years.’
That night she woke him, whimpering and crying with nightmares.
Then she called his name: ‘Taita, wait for me! Come back! Don’t leave me.’ Taita stroked her cheeks and kissed her eyelids to wake her gently.
When she realized it had been a dream she clung to him. ‘Is it you, Taita? Is it truly you? You have not left me?’
‘I will never leave you,’ he reassured her.
‘You will.’ Her voice was still blurred with tears.
‘Never,’ he repeated. ‘It took me so long to find you again. Tell me about your silly dream, Fenn. Were you being chased by trogs or Chima?’
She did not reply at once, still struggling to regain control of herself.
At last she whispered, ‘It was not a silly dream.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘In the dream I had grown old. My hair was thin and white - I could see it hanging in front of my eyes. My skin was wrinkled and my hands were bony claws. My back was bowed and my feet were swollen and painful. I hobbled behind you, but you were walking so fast that I could not keep up. I was falling back and you were going to some place where I could not follow.’ She was becoming agitated again. ‘I called your name, but you did not hear me.’ She began to sob.
‘It was only a dream.’ He held her tightly in the circle of his arms, but she shook her head vehemently.
‘It was a vision of the future. You strode ahead without looking back. You were tall and straight, your legs strong. Your hair was thick and lustrous.’ She reached up, took a handful and twisted it between her fingers. ‘Just as it is now.’
‘My sweet, you must not distress yourself. You, too, are young and beautiful.’
‘Perhaps now. But you will stay so, and I will grow old and die. I will lose you again. I don’t want to turn into some cold star. I want to stay with you.’
With all the wisdom of the ages at his command, he could find no words with which to comfort her. At last he made love to her again. She gave herself into his embrace with a kind of desperate fervour, as though she were trying to become one with him, to unite their physical bodies as well as their spirits so that they could never be torn apart, not even by death. At last, just before dawn, exhausted by love and despair, she slept.
From time to time they sailed past long-deserted Luo villages. The huts sagged miserably on their pole foundations, on the point of toppling into the rising waters. ‘When the waters rise they are driven to seek drier land at the peripheries of the Great Sud,’ Fenn explained. ‘They will only return to their fishing when the waters fall again.’
‘It is as well,’ Taita said. ‘If we were to meet them we would surely be forced to fight them, and we have been delayed long enough on this voyage. Our people are eager to see their homes.’
‘As I am,’ Fenn agreed, ‘although fo
r me it will be the first time in this life.’
That night Fenn was haunted again by her nightmares. He woke her, rescuing her from the dark terrors of her mind, stroking and kissing her until she lay quietly in his arms. But still she trembled as though in fever and her heart drummed against his chest like the hoofbeats of a running horse.
‘Was it the same dream?’ he asked softly.
‘Yes, but worse,’ she whispered back. ‘This time my eyesight was misty with age and you were so far ahead that I could only just make out your dark shape disappearing into the haze.’ They were both quiet, until Fenn spoke again. ‘I don’t want to lose you, but I know I must not squander the loving years that the gods have granted us in futile longing and regret. I must be strong and happy. I must savour every minute of our time together. I must share my happiness with you. We must never talk about this terrible parting again, not until it happens.’ She was quiet for a minute longer. Then she said, so low that he could barely make out the words: ‘Not until it happens, as it surely must.’
‘No, my beloved Fenn,’ he answered. ‘It is not inevitable. We will not be parted again, ever.’ She became still in his arms, barely breathing as she listened. ‘I know what we must do to avert it.’
‘Tell me!’ she demanded. He explained. She listened quietly, but as soon as he had finished she asked a hundred questions. When he had answered them, she said, ‘It might take a lifetime.’ She was daunted by the scope of the vision he had laid out before her.
‘Or it might take just a few short years,’ he said.
‘Oh, Taita, I can hardly contain myself. When can we begin?’
‘There remains much to do before we can repair the terrible damage that Eos inflicted on our very Egypt. As soon as we have done that, we can begin.’
‘I shall count the days until that time.’
Day after day, the wind held fair and the rowers pulled with a will, singing over the oars, their high spirits abounding, their arms and backs indefatigable as Nakonto’s nephews guided them unerringly through the channels. Each day at noon Taita climbed to the top of the mast to scan the country ahead. Long before he expected it, he picked out, far ahead, the shapes of the first trees above the interminable papyrus. Under the keels of the galleys the Nile grew deeper, and the reed beds on either side opened out. At last they burst out of the Great Sud, and ahead lay the prodigious plains through which the Nile ran like a long green python until it disappeared into the dusty haze of distance.
They moored the galleys under the steep-cut bank. While That and his men were setting up the first camp on dry land for many a long day, they unloaded the horses. A league away across the dusty plain a herd of eight giraffes was browsing in a clump of flat-topped acacia trees.
‘We have had no fresh meat since we left the Shilluk,’ Taita told That. ‘Everyone will be pleased to eat something other than catfish. I purpose to take out a hunting party. Once they have finished building the zareeba, let the people rest and disport themselves,’
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.