Lion of the Sands

by Robert Sullivan

  Both dhows were low in the water as we journeyed to the sand. Only Mushariff, who did not wish to eat, remained upon our ship. One Nubian also remained. He was a dark and strong young man, named Gase, with strong white teeth that he had filed to sharp points. He was comely of face but when he showed his teeth many men would step away. Isesi whispered that he was a demon, that only a demon would bear teeth so sharp. But I thought it only the want of his people. As we nosed the dhows onto the soft sand the headman of the tribe of straw men came forward. Naguib placed the bolts of soft cloth in his hands, and also the knives of the Pharaoh. The headman nodded, then passed the cloth to those at his side. Then he drew one of the knives across his skin, breaking open the skin such that red blood ran from his hand. He nodded again then spoke many words that we did not understand, but which pleased all other straw men as they stood beside us. There was laughter as they carried the gifts to the fire. There they placed the gifts upon sleeping mats woven of reeds and leaves. The women knelt to one side, and the men spoke with them, laughing and pointing to the gifts. We could see that all were well pleased.

  And so it was that we sat cross legged at the fire of the dark skinned men, the smoke rising slowly into the darkening sky, the carcass of a red haired jumping animal baking on the coals, the air filled with the smell of cooking meat and the sharp, strange smell of the dark ones. The straw men sat beside us, their smell strong in our noses, their eyes flashing white in their faces as they hacked pieces of meat from the carcass and passed these to us. The flesh was almost raw, charred by flames on the outside but on the inside red with blood. But it was a fine taste and I ate well, the fat running across my hands and dripping upon my sandals. The straw men watched and nodded their heads with approval.

  Around me sat my comrades, their eyes watchful, their mouths full. I was careful to follow Naguib’s instructions, that I did not eat until the straw men ate, that I did not drink until they drank, that I did not come too close. And, of course, that I did not stare at the women who brought forth the carcass from the fire. But I still saw their forms as they passed, the soft curves of their hips and the happy curl of their mouths. The women did indeed carry a flattened basket, carved from wood, in which they stored fruits and other foods gathered from the forest. Some fruits were dug from the ground, thick round and lumpen and as large as my hand. These they cast into the coals where they made loud snaps and pops and sizzled in the heat. When they were judged to be ready the women scooped these fruits from the coals with a hardened stick and broke them open with a single stroke, exposing soft golden flesh within, a flesh that warmed and filled the belly. Other fruits were taken from the trees, green and golden and bright as the sun. When broken open the flesh was soft and yellow, and tasted as of the lemons of my mother’s garden.

  One of the women, one who seemed younger than many, knelt before me and offered me the newly cooked fruit on a wooden basket. As I took the fruit from the basket I saw that her eyes held mine, bright brown eyes filled with mirth, a flash of white teeth against her dark skin, and I felt my heart move as my eyes slid quickly across her soft bosoms and rounded hips. She was indeed a beauty but I was wary and remembered Naguib’s words. At this memory I turned and looked at Isesi and I saw that he stared at the woman with hunger in his eyes. I turned my eyes to the ground and ate the fruit, and prayed to the Gods that I would return safely to the ship.

  The moon rose in the sky as our new friends threw more timber upon the fire, such that it became a blazing beacon. Then they brought forth many hard sticks, and log of wood, taken from the branch of a tree and hollowed in its length, and began to chant. Many men went into the darkness and returned with strange masks and spears. I felt my skin grow cold but I felt Naguib’s hand on my arm and it steadied me. One of the straw men sat cross-legged in the sand and brought the hollowed branch to his mouth and filled the air with a strange sound that caused my skin to crawl and filled my head with noise. It was as if the bray of a camel but without end. And then this terrible sound was joined by that of hard sticks striking each upon the other. When first I heard the sounds I found them such as to make my head ache, and to bring hurt to my ears, but as I sat and listened with my comrades the sounds began to sooth me, and I felt a deep peace enter my body.

  As the fire burned brightly and filled the night with sparks and smoke the straw men began to chant. Many stood and stamped their feet in the sand, waving their arms and spears and moving slowly in the flickering light. As I watched I saw a story unfold, a story of men hunting, seeking food, and at last capturing and killing the prey before returning in triumph to their tribe. It was a simple story they told in their music and dance, telling us of their lives. It seemed that time stopped as we watched and listened. The music echoed across the water, bouncing from island to island, the sticks cracked loudly against each other, the men’s feet stamped hard into the sand, the sparks flew bright in the night sky. I was transported as I watched, transported to an ancient time, when the Gods of this distant land of Gond strode the earth, filling the heads of men with dreams and hopes, when the earth was green and rich, when game was abundant, when mighty serpents and other animals crawled across the land. It was as if I dreamed. But this dream was swept away in a moment, thrown into the night by the scream of a woman.

  * * *

  At the cry of the woman my comrades and I climbed quickly to our feet. The straw men threw their masks to the ground, and the sounds of the hollow branch and the cracking sticks fell away. We looked about us but could see little. The circle of light from the fire was large but the shadows beyond were dark as pitch. We heard another soft cry from the trees and a woman fled into the light and threw herself at the feet of the headman of the tribe. It was the young woman that I had looked upon so fondly when she served food before the dance. I could see that there were tears on her cheeks but she did not appear to be harmed.

  It was then that a stab of cold fear struck my heart and I looked to the darkness. I saw the white flash of eyes and in a moment I knew that Isesi had done wrong, and in so doing, had brought danger to all that travelled with him. In front of us the young woman spoke in sobs to the headman. As she spoke the men muttered to themselves and rattled their spears, and looked towards us. Suddenly the friendship of the banquet and the dance was gone, the wind cold against my skin, the sparks from the fire no longer happy and dancing on the wind but now angry flickers in the night. I knew that we were in great danger.

  Naguib too felt the anger of the straw men and motioned that we should all move slowly to the dhow. For a moment I felt the cold hand of fear close so tightly around my heart that I could not breath. The dhow was many cubits distant, lying on its side, stranded upon the sand until the next tide. We were trapped, and our weapons were few, only three bronze spears and two hatchets that we had planned to gift to the tribe as we departed. If the straw men chose to attack us now, with our backs to the water and without weapons to defend ourselves, we were doomed. I cursed Isesi in silence. There were times when he was truly a fool, and these times were oft of great humour. But if he had chosen this time to make sport then he had greatly erred. I prayed that I would live at least long enough that I might strike him about the ears and hear him squeal.

  But as with all moments of passion, when men are intemperate and the blood rises, so it was that the straw men became violent and pursued us through the sand. Our dhow lay at the far end of the beach, not a great distance, but as our feet sank deep into the sand and the straw men screamed at our backs, in the darkness and the flickering light it seemed as if a day’s march. The fear rose in my throat and the skin across my shoulders crawled, for any moment I thought to feel the sharp prick of the spear as it struck me. In that moment I also felt rage and I wished to choke Isesi.

  We ran through the sand, its soft thickness pulling at our sandals until we came to the hard packed sand at the edge of the waves. As we fled to the dhow there was a scream at my elbow and one of the Nubians fell, coughing blood in the moonligh
t. It was Douwwi and I stopped to aid him. But the straw men came, and I saw that the spear had passed through his body, and as I watched he shook and trembled and was still. I knew that his spirit had flown. Then another shout from the straw men stirred me and I turned and ran to join my comrades. But yet again the Gods smiled upon us. As the fates would have it, the tide had turned and was at full flood as we fell into the dhow and pushed away from the shore of the island. As we pushed away from the sand I looked back to the fire. The young woman still lay in the sand before the headman but the other men were now gathered at the water’s edge, shouting in their strange tongue and rattling their spears. The Omars drove their paddles deep into the water and turned us from the shore. We felt the waters rise under us, but our dhow moved only slowly, as is made from stone.

  We heard the headman shout, a shout that was answered by the men at the edge of the water. They ran into the waves and cast their spears, sending them through the darkness like demons that we could not see. I felt one pass my head, so close that it brushed against my shoulder. Two struck the side of the dhow and I heard a scream. Isesi! I looked behind me and saw that the head of the spear had passed through the wooden side of the dhow and through Isesi’s leg.

  Naguib shouted and the Omars drove their paddles hard into the water. The straw men again cast their spears but this time they fell short. Then I saw one run through the light of the fire with a strangely shaped piece of wood. He stopped at the water’s edge near his fellows and cast the odd shaped wood towards our dhow. I remembered our first landfall and how one of the straw men had cast such a piece of wood toward our ship. And how it had floated out far across the water. But in this darkness I could not see. As I shouted a warning there was a loud noise, as if striking wood against wood, and a muffled cry, and one of the Nubians fell into the well of the dhow. It was not until we returned to the ship and, by the light of a torch, found that he was dead. It was Pasine, his head crushed by the strangely shaped piece of wood. The blood ran freely from his nose and his ears and the side of his head was as if struck by a large club. It was truly a sad and terrible sight.

  As we knelt on the deck, the other Nubians keening at the feet of their dead comrade, Naguib held the wood in his hand. It was as long as a man’s leg, bent past the mid point and flattened along its length. And it was covered in strange patterns, as if burned by a coal. It was also of great weight, more than a full goatskin said Naguib as he weighed it in his hand. How strong must these straw men be that they can cast something so heavy for such a distance? It was a puzzle said Naguib, because they did not cast the spears even half as far. When Naguib threw the wood to the floor of the dhow I took it and thrust it beneath my legs. Surely it was a strange thing. But something that I wished to know more of. For surely here was a mystery to be solved.

  It was that night that Naguib decided we would leave on the next morning tide. And that we would sail our ship to the next island and release the Beasts. We would then begin our journey home. But Naguib did not believe we would be safe if we stayed at our mooring off the island of the straw men. And so we hauled our heavy anchor aboard and moved off slowly in the breeze. It was of great danger, that we should sail these unknown waters in darkness, but to stay near the island might place us in danger of attack by the straw men. Truly their boats were small. But still they could carry the straw men, their spears, and their strange flying clubs too near for our comfort.

  Minkaf and Omar the Centurion knelt below the foredeck, close by the kitchen where Minkaf heated water. Together they removed the spear from Isesi’s leg. Isesi screamed and cursed until his eyes rolled white in his head and he fell senseless to the deck. Minkaf placed a poultice upon the wounds and wrapped Isesi’s leg in a piece of sail. He bound it tight with a leather strap from his sandals. To be sure I did not feel any love for Isesi that night, for he was a toad and he deserved all ill fortune that befell him. How could he place his comrades in such danger? For his deeds two of our Nubian comrades had fallen, among them my good friend Douwwi, his body to lie forever in this strange land so far from his home. I touched my brow and my father’s amulet and whispered a short prayer for my friend. And I swore on the lives of Douwwi and Pasine that I would place my sandal so firmly upon Isesi’s rear end that he would walk with pain for many days.

  * * *

  (Here endeth the sixteenth night of words of Agymah Chahine of Abydos - scribed by Khuyb, Daughter of Agymah, in the City of Memphis in the fourth year of the Ox. My father’s eyes are sad this night, for he remembers his friends, fallen so long ago. I, also, am saddened. )

  Part XVII - Farewell to Buta

  (Here is written the final night of words of the first book of the journal of Agymah Chahine of Abydos - scribed by Khuyb, Daughter of Agymah, in the City of Memphis in the fourth year of the Ox. Pamu has prepared fine ink and papyrus. Paser sits at the door but Pamu will not speak with him.)

  We did not sleep that night, our eyes wide and our breath ragged in our throats for fear of attack by the straw men. Naguib sailed our mighty ship back and forth between the island of the straw men, and another island, but a short sail to the north, one blessed with a tall dune that shone in the moonlight like a temple roof. While we ran and hauled the sail on each tack a Nubian hung from the bowsprit, throwing the drop line out in front of our ship and calling the depth of the waters. Thanks be to the Gods that our good fortune continued, for it was a clear night, the moon bright in the sky, the islands dark pools on a silver sea. As long as the mist did not rise we would be safe, sailing back and forth in the passage between. Naguib stood at the tiller with the Nubians, Omar the Centurion by his side. As Naguib steered we ran and hauled the sail. This was not difficult for us to do for the breeze was light, but it was a long night, and err the dawn broke we were tired men. I was glad when the far horizon sprung gold before us and the first rays of the sun touched the tops of the tallest dunes.

  As the sun rose over the horizon I stood one last time before the Beasts. Only one score remained alive and they were indeed a sorry sight, their once proud eyes dulled by the days and weeks of privation, their hides, once firm and grey and filled with muscle, now loose and lustreless, hanging from their bones like rags. But their eyes still followed me as I moved about the ship, and I saw again the dark intelligence that lurked therein. I felt that they bided their time, waiting with the patience of the Gods, certain that their strength and wiles would prevail.

  The sun kissed the blue waters at the base of the temple roof island as Naguib guided our ship close by the white sands. We stood off the shore, perhaps three, nay four hundred cubits, in water that was as deep as a man is tall. Beneath us the water was a soft green, the white sand no more than ten cubits beneath our keel, the dark arms of the sea grasses waving beneath the waves. The Nubians cast a small anchor, a large rock tied with hemp, from the foredeck and the rear deck, and Naguib called that our sails be brought down. The Nubians slipped the railing and together we turned the first of the cages. In it lay three of the mighty Beasts, two elder and one young. It was Naguib’s hope by putting the Beasts into the water that they would easily make land fall, for the water was not deep, but yet still be unable to easily attack the ship, for the water would hinder their movements. Naguib was a man of caution and wisdom.

  The morning sun sparkled across the water as we looked to the golden island, a soft warm breeze touched our backs. So far had we come with the mighty Beasts, and so long had we seen them near, that it seemed our parting was done in haste. Though of course it was not. The sun rose above us, our faces red, our bodies dripping, as we labored beneath it. But our muscles were strong and we worked as one as we pushed the cages to the railing and opened the doors. As each cage was opened the Nubians at the rear pushed at the mighty Beasts with the haft of a spear, driving them forward, towards the island, towards the water, and towards their freedom. The Beasts were weak after so many days and nights within the cages, their muscles shrunken, their hides loose and wrinkled as are the f
aces of old women, but when they saw their freedom they leapt from the ship to the water in but a moment. Naguib had chosen well, for the water was not so deep that it covered each Beast, yet deep enough as to ensure that the Beast could not attack our ship. Of each Beast we could see only its head as it moved slowly away from our ship.

  We cast each cage into the water as it was emptied. And as each cage was cast from our ship the Nubians on the rear deck loosed the anchor so that our ship might turn a little on the tide. And so it was that the mighty Beasts left our ship before the sun reached high above our heads, and we watched as they made their way slowly to the island, until at last a full score stood on the white sand. I saw that even now they did not enjoy the bright light and warmth of the sun and that many moved to the shadows of the trees, some drinking from a small watercourse that cut through the sand, others lying motionless. My comrades and I watched and waited. It seemed that something more should take place, something that might mark this moment in time. But of course it did not. For these were but Beasts, and we were but simple men. And so we watched as the Beasts began to climb the tall golden dune, toward the top of the temple roof island. It was then that Naguib called and the Nubians hauled on our anchors and we ran to the sails. It was time.

  As our ship moved with the wind we saw the islands fall away. I realised the first stage of our great adventure was behind us, that our quest for the land of Gond and the safe delivery of the mighty Beasts was now complete. I looked about me and saw that of our band of four and twenty that set forth from Memphis, less than a score remained. Many of our comrades had fallen, through ill fortune, greed or fear. What now I thought as I gazed at the golden islands on the sea of green. For greater than eight score of days and nights had we been upon the seas. Days and nights that had seen many of my comrades perish. And also many of the Beasts.