The Quest - Smith Wilbur (читаем книги онлайн бесплатно TXT) 📗

'You disappoint me, Meren. It is unlike you to wander away and neglect your duties,' Taita chided him. 'Now do you propose to starve me? Summon the new maidservant you have employed, and let us hope her cooking is not eclipsed by her pretty face.'

He did not sleep during that day, but sat alone in the shade at the far end of the terrace. As soon as they had eaten the evening meal he climbed to the top of the tower once more. The sun was only a finger below the horizon, but he was determined not to waste a moment of the hours of darkness when the star would be revealed to him. Night came, as swiftly and stealthily as a thief. Taita strained his eyes into the east.

The stars pricked through the darkling arch of the night sky, and grew brighter. Then, abruptly, the Star of Lostris appeared above his head.

He was amazed that it had left its constant position in the train of the planets. Now it hung like a guttering lantern flame above the tower of Gallala.

It was no longer a star. In the few short hours since he had last laid eyes upon it, it had erupted into a fiery cloud and was blowing itself apart. Dark, ominous vapours billowed around it, lit by internal fires that were consuming it in a mighty blaze that lit the heavens above his head.

Taita waited and watched through the long hours of darkness. The maimed star did not move from its position high above his head. It was still there at sunrise, and the following night it appeared again in the same heavenly station. Night after night the star remained fixed in the sky

like a mighty beacon, whose eerie light must reach to the ends of the heavens. The clouds of destruction that enveloped it swirled and eddied.

The fires flared up in its centre, then died away, only to flare again in a different place.

At dawn the townsfolk came up to the ancient temple and waited for an audience with the magus in the shade of the tall columns of the hypostyle hall. When Taita descended from his tower they crowded around him, begging for an explanation of the mighty eruption of flames that hung over their city: 'O mighty Magus, does this herald another plague? Has Egypt not suffered enough? Please explain these terrible omens to us.' But he could tell them nothing for their comfort. None of his studies had prepared him for anything like the unnatural behaviour of the Star of Lostris.

The new moon waxed full and its light softened the fearful image of the burning star. When it waned, the Star of Lostris dominated the heavens once more, burning so brightly that all other stars paled into insignificance beside it. As if summoned by this beacon, a dark cloud of locusts came out of the south and descended on Gallala. They stayed for two days and devastated the irrigated fields, leaving not a single ear of dhurra corn or a leaf on the olive trees. The branches of the pomegranates bent under the weight of the swarms, then broke off. On the morning of the third day the insects rose in a vast, murmurous cloud and flew westward towards the Nile, to wreak more devastation on lands already dying from the failure of the Nile flood.

The land of Egypt quailed, and the population gave in to despair.

Then another visitor came to Gallala. He appeared during the night, but the flames of the Star of Lostris burned so brightly, like the last flare of an oil lamp before it expires, that Meren could point out the caravan to Taita when it was still a great distance away.

'Those beasts of burden are from a far-off land,' Meren remarked. The camel was not indigenous to Egypt and was still rare enough to excite his interest. 'They do not follow the caravan route but come out of the desert. All this is strange. We must be wary of them.' The foreign travellers did not waver but came directly to the temple, almost as though they were guided there. The camel drivers couched their animals, and there was the usual hubbub of a caravan setting up camp.

'Go down to them,' Taita ordered. 'Find out what you can about them.'

Meren did not return until the sun was well clear of the horizon.

'There are twenty men, all servants and retainers. They say they have travelled for many months to reach us.'

'Who is their leader? What did you learn of him?'

'I did not lay eyes on him. He has retired to rest. That is his tent in the centre of the encampment. It is of the finest wool. All his men speak of him with the greatest awe and respect.'

'What is his name?'

'I do not know. They speak of him only as the Hitama, which in their language means “exalted in learning”.'

'What does he seek here?'

'You, Magus. He comes for you. The caravan master asked for you by name.'

Taita was only mildly surprised. 'What food have we? We must offer hospitality to this Hitama.'

'The locusts and drought have left us with little. I have some smoked fish and enough corn for a few salt cakes.'

'What of the mushrooms we collected yesterday?'

'They have turned rotten and stinking. Perhaps I can find something in the village.'

'No, do not trouble our friends. Life for them is hard enough already.

We will make do with what we have.' In the end they were saved by the generosity of their visitor. The Hitama accepted their invitation to share the evening meal, but he sent Meren back with a gift of a fine fat camel.

It was plain that he knew how sorely the populace was suffering from the (amine. Meren slaughtered the beast and prepared a roasted shoulder.

The remainder of the carcass would be enough to feed the servants of the Hitama, and most of the village population.

Taita waited for his guest on the roof of the temple. He was intrigued 10 discover whom he might be. His title suggested that he was one of the magi, or perhaps the abbot of some other learned sect. He had a premonition that something of great import was to be revealed to him.

Is this the messenger who was presaged by the auguries? The one for whom I have waited so long? he wondered, then stirred as he heard Meren ushering the visitor up the wide stone staircase.

'Take care with your master. The treads of the staircase are crumbling mid can be dangerous,' Meren told the bearers, who at last arrived on

the roof terrace. He helped them settle the curtained litter close to Taita's mat, then placed a silver bowl of pomegranate-flavoured sherbet and two drinking bowls on the low table between them. He glanced enquiringly at his own master. 'What else do you wish, Magus?'

'You may leave us now, Meren. I will call you when we are ready to eat.' Taita poured a bowl of the sherbet and placed it close to the opening in the curtains, which were still tightly drawn. 'Greetings and welcome. You bring honour to my abode,' he murmured, speaking to his unseen guest. There was no reply and he concentrated all the power of the Inner Eye on the palanquin. He was astonished not to distinguish any aura of a living person beyond the silk curtains. Though he scanned the covered space carefully he found no sign of life. It appeared blank and sterile. 'Is anybody there?' He stood quickly and crossed to the litter.

'Speak!' He demanded. 'What devilry is this?'

He jerked aside the curtain, then stepped back in surprise. A man sat cross-legged on the padded bed, facing him. He wore only a saffron loincloth. His body was skeletal, his bald head skull-like, his skin as dry and wrinkled as that shed by a serpent. His countenance was as weathered as an ancient fossil, but his expression was serene, even beautiful.

'You have no aura!' Taita exclaimed, before he could prevent the words reaching his lips.

The Hitama inclined his head slightly. 'Neither have you, Taita. None of those who have returned from the temple of Saraswati give out a detectable aura. We have left part of our humanity with Kashyap, the lamp-bearer. This deficiency enables us to recognize one another.'