Infinite Blue Heaven - A King and A Queen (21 page)

“No idea is too stupid or mad, for me to dismiss, without listening.”

The men were silent, looking at me, as they munched on apples, or strips of dried, salty mutton.

It was going to be extremely difficult, out here, to find a way of surprising Korim. I sat down on a log, facing south, across the wide valley. I shielded my eyes and looked far to the west. I thought I could see that the river-bed wound close to the near side of the valley some distance away but I could not tell.

“What are you looking at?”

“Looking for. Looking for.” I muttered, without thinking. We took shelter from the midday sun, the sides of our shelters raised, more so we could see any attackers than for the cool air. None came and we seemed alone in the silent wilderness.

In the middle of the afternoon, Geb saw a distant spire of smoke, ahead of us and slightly north.

“Might be an enemy camp. We should take a look but be careful.” Pointing to two of the Scouts, I told them to take a look and come straight back.

Minutes later they returned.

“It looks like a small camp. There is one large tent but no sign of horses. A few goats.”

He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, ‘I don’t understand it.’

“Alright. Let’s take a look.”

We rode cautiously towards the whisp of smoke. As we approached, a goat, chewing on a tuft of brown grass, bleated and an old woman, dressed in the bright colours of a tribeswoman, stepped out from the tent. She wiped her hands and stood watching us, with a look of anxiety on her face.

I stopped my horse right in front of her.

“Salaam Alekum” I said to her.

She said something quickly, only a small part of which I understood. Some of the words were familiar but sounded strange.

“She is from a country far north of here.” said Ahmed. “She is wishing you peace in your life and prosperity.”

I smiled and said something appropriate, back to her. I added that I was King Vaslav.

For a moment she looked even more anxious. Then Ahmed translated what I had said. Suddenly her face broadened into a toothless grin and she called to the tent. Two more women, similarly dressed, emerged. One had a veil, made of red silk, across her face but I could still see her twinkling eyes. They all approached me and reached towards me with their hands outstretched. It would be an impertinent gesture, in most circumstances. To try to touch the King, without permission was not done. But their age and the conditions in which they were living made the gesture pitiable and I found myself touching their hands.

I dismounted and they pulled me towards the tent.

We went inside, Geb, Ahmed and the Generals following me. Inside was all the paraphernalia of a poor family’s life; cooking pots, rugs, brightly-coloured blankets stacked neatly and cushions to sit on. They bade us sit and brought hot tea and small pastries.

As we ate them Ahmed listened to their hurried stories and translated for me.

“They have been here for nearly a year. They came from the country north of Uran and were traveling to our City and then perhaps further south but they liked it here, it was peaceful and they had been through several wars. The men said they would stay a while and so they planted some crops and farmed their goats and a few sheep.”

“Then these soldiers came and told them to leave but only to go north. The men argued for days and could not come to a decision. Then the soldiers returned and there was fighting. Their husbands were all killed and two young mothers and their children. The old women raised their arms up and then prostrated themselves, wailing in their grief, as they explained this.”

“Only they were saved because they were old woman and not considered worth killing,” they explained bitterly.

“The last thing the soldiers said before they left was, ‘Do not ride south, or you too will be killed. Korim is your Lord now.’”

I smiled inside at the paucity of Korim’s mercy. He had much to learn about Politics.

The women fed us well and although we had posted a guard, we felt relaxed and allowed the men to rest and be fed.

We had many questions for them and stayed well into the afternoon, before considering leaving.

I had asked them whether there were regular patrols in the area.

“No. This Korim let his men do as they please. They came and went as they pleased. They were often cruel to the women, laughing at them and throwing sticks and stones at them. They had no respect for elders. Only yesterday, they had killed the last two sheep. It was fortunate that there were guests here, to eat the meat.”

At one point I saw the eldest woman, the one who had first greeted us, nodding at Ahmed and I saw him looking at her intently. Then she looked at me, seeing that I had noticed their exchange, and slapped my thigh and laughed. Ahmed quickly explained her audacity.

“She is a healer and a Shaman,” he said. “She says you have a very strong, even a great, spirit and she would be very pleased to help you. She is asking if you are prepared to stay until after sunset, when she will best be able to communicate with the Great Spirits.”

I only needed to consider for a moment before answering. Any sort of help was welcome in the present situation and to find friendly faces in this land, at this time, was doubly welcome.

“Yes.”

We rested as the old women made preparations, boiling up some of the mutton and other ingredients. First one, then another, then all three started singing and kept singing until finally the Sun had vanished and a still silence could take over.

“She asks you to sit here.”

The old woman pointed to a cushion on the opposite side of the low table to herself and then she lay out four small bowls in front of me.

“Do not ask what is in them but eat them, all of the contents, when she points to them.”

The old woman then started chanting with her eyes closed and continued repeating for some time the melody but not the words, before suddenly she stopped and pointed her crooked finger at the first bowl.

I lifted the bowl to my mouth, with both hands and drank the contents. There were large hard bits in it but all slid easily into my mouth. It did not taste too bad, salty and slightly pungent. The hard items were crunchy. I replaced the bowl and she started singing again. It was a different tune.

Again she continued for a long time before suddenly stopping and pointing to the second bowl. This one looked less appetising, green, soupy, with some things that looked suspiciously like insect legs sticking out.

I took a small ladle, next to the bowl, and, as eagerly as I could pretend, finished the contents. I did not like the taste but liked the texture even less.

She started singing and this time the tune was like the first but an octave lower and the words were barely audible. It had a drone like quality and made me feel sleepy. I began to see flashing lights around the room, or thought I did, and things seems to move in and out of focus. It was much as things are, when one is on the edge of sleep and I did not feel alarmed.

Again she stopped and again I drained a bowl, filled with a brown liquid. This one tasted good, like mare’s milk, mixed with something sweet. It tasted strongly alcoholic. I licked my lips and she watched me intently.

She began singing again, even lower, and I was surprised at how low her voice was. Almost like a man’s. I felt really drowsy and noticed my head jolting forwards several times with its weight seeming too great to hold up.

She must have said something sharply to me, because I was not aware of what had just happened, when I found myself reaching for the last bowl. It had something green in it, much like grass, but with serrated leaves. It smelled pungent and slightly fruity.

When I had finished it, she took both my hands and, while singing, the same melodic, hypnotic drone, she washed them gently with water from a basin she had next to her on the floor. She took her time, washing in between each finger and touching all the joints in turn. She seemed to see things there, which I could not and occasionally, seemed to withdraw into herself for a moment, while still singing.

She took a sheaf of green grass, lying on a mat next to her and gathered it into a tight band, which she then wrapped around my left hand, enclosing all the fingers but leaving my thumb free. She bound the grass to my hand using strands of green twine. It was comfortable but felt strange. It was also strange that it appeared to be simply grass. It was the same grass that grew everywhere in these parts.

Finally she said a small prayer and then stopped. She said something to Ahmed.

“She says she knows what you are looking for, even if you do not know yourself. The grass will help you find it. Do not take it off until you have found it.”

The old woman said something else.

“You may ask questions, if you have any.”

I thought for a long while. This woman had seemed to understand my need so well and any questions I could think of, seemed so insignificant in comparison.

I shook my head and immediately she stood up and suddenly the room came back into focus. I had not realised how far away it had seemed. It had seemed almost as if the walls of the tent were miles away.

The old woman spoke again. Ahmed translated.

“She says she knows you want to leave. You must rest for one hour before leaving.”

I laid down and must have fallen asleep, for the next thing I knew was Ahmed touching my shoulders.

“It has been one hour.”

“We must leave.”

I did not want to stay with the women. I did not want Korim to send men to kill them.

We only moved a few hundred sachine before making camp, posting guards around the perimeter.

That night I dreamed of Shakira again. Her warm breasts and her lovely red nipples filled my thoughts. I wanted to get on my horse and ride to her. I rolled over and noticed my left hand was wrapped in something strange. This woke me up and then I remembered what it was. I lay on my back, listening to the gentle breeze, rustling the grass near my tent.

I awoke early and raised the others. We ate a quick breakfast of mutton, bread and apples, given to us by the women, washed down with tea and then left, moving again west.

I was drawn to let my horse walk closer and closer to the edge of what was now a very steep slope, almost a cliff, on the edge of the valley. Soon, the river-bed was right beneath us and the edge had become a cliff, perhaps ten sachine high.

“What are you looking for?” asked Geb.

The idea was only half formed in my mind.

“I don’t know. Cover. Shelter. A place to hide five hundred men.”

Just ahead, the edge of the precipice curved out to a promontory, where one could stand and look back to the base of the cliff we were now at the top of. I urged my horse around to the promontory. The men stopped their horses and let me go on. They were not keen to risk their lives and their horses on such rocky ground. I reached the edge and leaned over in the saddle, looking back behind me.

Suddenly my head seemed to reel. The grass around my hand was hot. It had become warmer since I had seen the promontory but perhaps I hadn’t noticed,

I felt as if I was about to fall off my horse. I heard Ahmed calling to me. “Be careful!”

I saw, at the base of the cliff, a cave in the shape of an upturned plate or the upturned half of a clam. It was a space large enough for several hundred men on horseback. Suddenly, the Sun seemed to be shining from the shape. I nearly did fall off my horse. Everything became a blur, out of focus, and I had to rely on my sense of balance, to pull myself upright in the saddle and command the horse to ride away from the edge.

Reaching the others I said to them, “I think we have found it.”

“But that’s impossible! They can hide down there. That’s for sure. But then they can’t get back to the Battle without riding along the river and then they will be seen!” It was Abdil’khan, saying only what the others thought. I had taken an engineer out there, along with Abdil, and this was what they thought.

“Wait. We will look along here.”

We rode slowly west, looking for a way down. A little further along, the ground sloped down to a point only about three sachine above the river-bed. It was treacherous ground and dismounting, I slipped and slid down to the lip, before calling back, that I thought it was possible.

“Could you build a ramp up from there?” I asked the engineer. “Using piled earth and some planks to reinforce it?” I added, seeing his doubt.

“Hmm.” He raised his eyebrows, for the first time, seeing the possibility. “Yes. I think so.”

“Good. You and your men, go back to the camp, get some men to help you and some wood and come back here. When you have it ready, I want you to take the planks and hide them and yourselves in that cave. Geb will join you in three days’ time. Understand?”

“Yes Sire.”

“Good. Now the rest of us must finish this tour, as soon as possible. We will ride flat out.”

Three days left

And we did, all that day, staying close to the ridge.

“Can you see any signals?” I asked Geb several times. He said he had seen several far out in the valley and we all saw horsemen, several times between us and the mountains. Here though, the valley rose only gently up to where we were, the river being in the centre of the valley again. I noticed Geb had not seen any signals in the stretch of valley, where we had seen the cave. Too at this point, there had not seemed any Enemy patrols in the cultivated area.