by Marc Secchia
“Special? Honestly, Anni, I’m the only ferengi in a nation of–”
“Whine, whine, whine,” said Annakiya, rudely. “Green eyes, blonde hair, white skin … I’ve heard it all before. Will you stop whining? Look at me; I’m as brown as a tree. Abba Petros will say you’re a person, just like me. So what if I’m a Princess and you’re a slave-girl? I’m working on fixing that.”
Shioni stared fixedly ahead, furious with her friend, and even more furious because she knew Annakiya was right.
“I’ve heard all of your excuses and I don’t buy them, not even one. Green-eyed giraffe? Nonsense. White-skinned ghost? A lie. Ferengi witch? Perfect rot.”
“You are very forceful with your opinions today, your Highness.”
“I’ve been practising.” Annakiya smiled, but Shioni saw a new strength in that smile, too. “Don’t forget, I’ve known you since before you could speak Ge’ez. Maybe you were a Princess in your kingdom.”
“Maybe vultures fly backwards around the moon,” Shioni snorted, glancing suspiciously at Annakiya’s travel-bags. Had she just heard a tiny snigger? “With respect, Princess.”
“Oh, with respect, is it?” cried Annakiya. “Even this ambulatory lump of an elephant knows better, you cheeky wretch.”
“Shifta can understand you, Anni.”
“Can he? Oh. Sorry.”
Shioni wondered what their two warriors thought of this conversation. But now a muffled sneeze came from one of Annakiya’s bags. One of the Elites sprang forward, dagger in hand. The other rapped, “What was that? Get back, Princess.”
“That, not for the first time,” said Shioni, grimacing, “is a little stowaway, I believe.”
“Azurelle? But I ordered her–oh! Does no-one listen to me? See what your disobedience has set off, Shioni!”
As Annakiya unbuckled the straps of her scroll-bag, Shioni said to the two Elites, “Now, if you think I’m strange …”
In a tangle of wings, limbs and antennae, Azurelle tumbled onto the howdah’s floor. She smoothed her jade hair and fixed Shioni with a perfectly disgruntled look. “Strange? I’m the one who’s beautiful and radiant around here!”
Shioni cautioned the two warriors, “She’s not asmati, she’s a Fiuri. She’s no danger to us.”
“Azurelle! How are we ever to keep you safe if you keep revealing yourself like this?”
The Fiuri stomped her tiny foot. “You left me behind, Annakiya!”
The two warriors seemed to be holding their breath, Shioni noticed, judging by their bulging eyes and panicked expressions. If she was not mistaken, the vain little Fiuri was rather pleased by the effect of her entrance.
“You agreed to go back to Castle Hiwot with Mama Nomuula, Zi.”
“I changed my mind.” Zi drew herself up to her very tiny height, fluttered her long eyelashes, and struck a pretty pose. “Don’t you want me along?”
Annakiya clucked her tongue in frustration. “Well then, this is a royal command: you will behave yourself and keep out of sight, Azurelle of Fiuriel, or I will … so help me, I will–”
“Tell me a hundred times a day how I outshine the very stars?”
Shioni smothered a laugh.
“I will order General Getu to punish you severely!”
For the first time since she’d rescued the Fiuri from the cave beneath the baobab, Shioni saw Azurelle’s jaw drop in speechless amazement. This time she did laugh, loudly and long.
And then she remembered what the General had said about mistrusting Gondar. In that case, she should be glad to have Azurelle along, because the Fiuri often saw things others did not, and she knew about magic. Shioni reminded herself to tell Princess Annakiya about the General’s warning–perhaps later, when there were less ears listening.
Chapter 4: Along the Takazze River
THe Sheban Column Pressed along the flat river plains all that day and the next, keeping the broad, lazy river to their left hand and the black volcanic peaks of the Simien Mountains to their right. Each morning, after seeing the Princess safely to her perch upon the elephant, Shioni rode out with the scouts and hunters. Hunting was good along the river–gazelle, bushbuck, warthog, and zebra abounded, along with a few walia ibex she would have expected to see higher in the mountains.
She was pleased not to find spoor of Kalcha’s giant hyenas, but they readily identified lion tracks in the scrubby bushes nearer the mountains and in the river there were plenty of hippopotami, which could be very dangerous when riled. Along the watercourse, chattering yellow weavers hung their nests from every possible tree and reed. While Shioni stalked several white-backed ducks for the pot, she and a goliath heron startled each other. She beat a hasty retreat, given the bird stood taller than her!
To her irritation, when she returned empty-handed from her brief hunting trip that lunchtime, Annakiya blithely ordered Shioni to stop making up stories about giant birds. Shioni stalked around to Shifta’s far side, away from the Princess, and kicked an unsuspecting tuft of grass as hard as she could.
“Bad hunting?” She blushed to the roots of her hair as General Getu rose from the shade of a nearby acacia tree. “Just didn’t like that particular patch of grass?”
“Blasted Princess,” she muttered. “She just doesn’t understand.”
“Come. It’s time to move on. Do you expect Princess Annakiya to understand everything, Shioni? She’s the Princess. Your job is to understand certain things better than she does.”
“Yes, my father.” Shioni bowed her head. The General was never an easy man, but his wisdom ran as wide as the Takazze and an awful lot deeper.
With ease that belied his seventy-plus years, General Getu squatted next to Annakiya in the shelter of the cloth awning Shioni had erected for her. She was sharing a bowl of firfir and some kolo grain with Captain Yirgu. The Princess immediately said, “Join us, General. Shioni, eat.”
“My Lady. Captain,” said Getu. “Soon, we will come to the place where a large tributary of the Takazze splits away to the east, toward Lalibela.” He drew in the dust with his finger. “We’ll follow the west bank one day further, before making the crossing. Even though the river loops more east and south after that, while we want to travel westward to Gondar, we’ll follow the outer edge of the loop. Inside the loop is marshland–bogs, crocodiles, and likely the marsh-fever. After that, the Mesheha gorge joins the Takazze. I would not like to cross it. The scouts say that there are other rivers coming down from the Simiens which are difficult to cross.”
“So this is a better route, even though it’s longer on the map?”
“Exactly, Princess.”
“There’s been rain in the mountains?”
“I’ll confirm with the scouts, my Lady.” Suddenly General Getu turned from his drawing. “What is it, Shioni?”
She stared at the place he had called ‘the crossing’, hearing someone speak but not registering the words. Strange. She felt something strange … there. Her neck prickled and she rubbed the spot vigorously. Just a silly chill.
“Shioni?”
“I–oh, General, it’s nothing.”
“I think it safe to judge from the General’s expression, Shioni,” said Annakiya, “that you had better turn your nothing into something before he roasts you for dinner.”
“What?”
Getu’s hand clipped the back of her head. “Attention!”
She blurted out, “It’s the ford, I can’t … something at the ford.”
“There, that was marginally easier than defeating Kalcha the first time,” said the Princess brightly, earning herself a fierce glower from her slave-girl. “What about the ford?”
Shioni shrugged. “That’s the bit I can’t say, my Lady.”
The General touched the dusty spot again. “Hold on,” he growled. “I’ve decided. We will press on this afternoon. At first light tomorrow you, Shioni, will ride ahead with a strong patrol to scout the ford. Any trouble, flush it out. But be extra vigilant. Don’t trust that anything i
s as it seems.”
The rest of the column was making ready to move on. Shioni heard Captain Yirgu yelling at one of the merchants to keep up or be left behind. As she packed up the Princess’ lunch, she overheard Annakiya whisper to the General, “The warriors won’t enjoy having a slave-girl lead the patrol.”
“I have my ways,” Getu replied, smiling his famously wolfish smile. “Trust me.”
Her ears might be burning, but that was not the only part of her burning before long. Intense afternoon heat assaulted the Takazze River. Even the cicadas’ chirruping sounded tired, and the lizards, having basked in the sun all morning, retreated to find shade. The sun beat down on the land of Abyssinia, and on the Shebans toiling along the river. Dark warriors wiped their brows. They carried a full load of gear–shield, armour, sword, spears, a dagger, a simple travelling gabi for keeping warm in the cool evenings, food supplies, cooking equipment, and much more. The donkey-train plodded along stolidly. The merchants shaded their heads with cloth and the odd bright umbrella. The iron-hard ground, the reddish rocks, and even the riverine trees and bushes seemed to reflect the heat. Getu ordered an extra stop mid-afternoon to water the animals.
Great, puffy white thunderheads were building over the Simien peaks, Shioni observed. Getu was right. She wished it could rain where they were, but the clouds stuck to the peaks like stubborn, sullen donkeys overloaded with a weight of rain.
As evening drew in, the Sheban forces set up camp in the shelter of a small bluff. A single, ancient baobab tree crowned the bluff, a gnarled beauty with roots as thick as Shifta’s legs running down the cliff face. Shioni unloaded the howdah from Shifta’s back with the help of several strong, willing arms, and then took him down to the river to bathe.
“That was a beastly hot day,” he said, wading belly-deep into the clear river.
Shioni ducked as he sprayed a huge trunkful over his back. “Hey, I didn’t ask for a shower!”
“Sorry.”
“It’s actually really nice, would you mind …?”
“Humans bathe like elephants? I didn’t know you were such clean animals.”
Shioni loosened her hair from its ties and gasped as Shifta doused her in cold river water. “Brr! That’s definitely from the mountains. Oh–and thanks for the snort of agreement. Yes we’re clean, but no, we don’t enjoy mud baths like you elephants do.”
“Keeps us clean of ticks and parasites,” Shifta rumbled, tossing water about with abandon. “I’ve a painful spot on my spine. Care to take a look?”
Barely had she nodded, when he whisked her into the air, twirled her about with several alarming swoops, and dropped her neatly on top of his neck. Shioni chuckled. He was still a young elephant with a playful spirit, despite Chief’s efforts to browbeat him into behaving.
“The howdah’s rubbed one spot raw,” said Shioni. “I wish Tensi were here. She’d–”
“The animal healer? Of course she’s here. Your one-armed chief brought her.”
“Really? Good.” Taking a deep breath, Shioni leaped off his head and tucked up her legs, landing with a huge splash right next to Shifta’s head.
“Ha!” he spluttered.
“Ouch,” she rubbed her tailbone. “Hit the bottom there.”
“Shioni, is it true what Chief said, that humans think of themselves as better than animals? And that calling someone an animal is an insult?”
“It is, Shifta. But I don’t agree.”
“Why not?”
From the hint of challenge in his tone, Shioni had the impression he meant the question as some kind of test. “Well, you don’t see animals killing each other for no reason, or for stupid reasons.”
“Ah,” said the elephant, approvingly. “I’ll finish bathing and then snack on these luscious bushes along the river. You’ll find me here.”
“Shifta, you’re a stomach on legs.”
“I’m a growing bull. I need to graze.” Shifta blew another trunkful of water over her head. “And I’m three times your height and at least a hundred times your weight, maybe two hundred. How much would you eat if you were my size?”
“A small mountain.”
“Exactly.”
Soaking wet, Shioni left the river and went in search of her friend Tensi, who was a very fine herbalist and animal healer.
Once the sun had set, firing the sky to a ruddy glow, night set in quickly. Shioni and Annakiya stayed up chatting for a while in her tent by lamplight, before Shioni turned in and the Princess buried her nose in a scroll or three, as she loved to do.
She dreamed of a great King sitting on an onyx throne surrounded by huge, black-maned Abyssinian lions. In her dream, she approached his throne. The lions prowled around her, but she was unafraid. Without saying a word, the King suddenly lifted his head. His eyes spat crimson flames and the power of his gaze gripped her so forcefully, she screamed and tried to flee. But, by a strange magic, he had cast chains about her, chains linking her slave-necklet to her wrists and ankles, and wrapped around her torso. She was trapped! One of the lions rose upon his hind legs like a man. Gripping the chains in his paw, he dragged her to her knees before the King.
“What shall we do with the slave-girl, my Lord?” he snarled.
“We’ll turn her powers to our use,” said the King. “We’ll turn her into one of us.”
“No!” screamed Shioni. “No …!”
Clapping a hand over her mouth, Shioni sat bolt-upright on her bedroll, panting and shaking. Snakes alive, what an awful dream! Beside her, Annakiya mumbled something and turned over in her sleep. Shioni groaned softly, feeling her neck. She’d sat up so sharply she had pulled a muscle. That dream … oh. It must be the same vision Talaku, the Mad Giant, had told her about the last time she had seen him, before he left for the mountains in search of his destiny.
Poor Talaku. If any man ever had a chance of standing as tall as Shifta … with all that magic boiling inside of him, how big would he grow?
Shioni laid a hand on her weapons, set out in readiness the night before. The quiver with twenty-five arrows went on her back. She strapped her long dagger at her left side. General Getu had been talking about getting a light sword made for her. Two throwing knives sat at her right hip. The recurve bow she slung crosswise across her back. Her hair, which reached down to her waist, she efficiently tied back so it would not get in the way of any moving or fighting she might have to do. A hunk of bread, kolo, and a gourd of water completed her packing.
She padded out of the tent.
Annakiya might have preferred a fancy pavilion tent, but General Getu had argued her into having a plain tent like many of the merchants used. She should not be too easily identified, he said. The Elite warriors would curl up each in his gabi and sleep anywhere. But the Princess rated a soft straw mattress, although not very thick, and a plush pillow and blankets. Small creature comforts. Shioni slipped over a few steps to her left and woke the two female Elite warriors, Alemnesh and Mekedis. They were archers, and outstanding warriors. She had trained with them many times. “It’s time,” she said.
“We’ll look after your mistress,” said Alemnesh, leaping lithely to her feet. “Good hunting.”
Shioni nodded. Across the campsite, Captain Yirgu kicked awake a warrior who had dared to sleep past the appointed hour. False dawn was just breathing new colours into the eastern skies. She saw movement over by the picket line as the warriors readied the horses. Yirgu’s forces gathered quickly–all experienced warriors, all of whom had probably been on hundreds more patrols and expeditions than she had, Shioni reflected. She was supposed to advise them? Spot something they would not? More likely she’d be the one blundering about like a dozy hippopotamus while they showed her the ways of the Abyssinian wilds.
“Mount up.”
Yirgu’s order was soft; nevertheless, it carried clearly in the still pre-dawn air. Strong hands seized the rope halters of their mounts. Thirty warriors, Shioni counted, and Captain Yirgu, his three sub-Captains, two trackers
, and one slave-girl.
The Captain turned his horse to face the men. “You know the mission, men–check the ford and surrounds are clear. One addition. Shioni will accompany us. You will treat her words as orders from me. Understood?”
Hard-faced nods. Shioni gulped. She could feel their bristling–some warriors simply accepted the order, but many seemed insulted, even if they dared not say so. Yirgu’s expression turned into carved granite. But one of the grizzled veterans, a sub-Captain, rasped:
“I was at the Mesheha, Captain. Any man have issues respecting your order, I’ll thrash him personally to save you the bother.”
Respect a slave-girl? Shioni directed her horse into position in the column with a subtle pressure of her knees. That would be the day hyenas danced on the moon.
Chapter 5: The Bandits’ Gift
FRom The eleventh hour to the second hour after sunrise, Captain Yirgu’s warriors rode rapidly across the Takazze River plains, pushing as hard as prudence allowed. The two scouts and Shioni ranged ahead and to the sides, riding into the rising hills that were beginning to squeeze the river into a narrower, deeper channel. For a long time Shioni found only animal and bird tracks, and the single pug-print of a young lioness, but as they neared the Mesheha gorge, which scored powerfully down from the mountains, she came across spoor of many mountain ponies. She narrowed her eyes. They had ridden down at a canter, two abreast–bandits?
Shioni whistled sharply. After a few minutes, she heard one of the other scouts approaching.
“Found something?”
“Spoor heading down to the ford. Fifteen riders, maybe more.”
The scout leaped lightly to the ground. He checked the spoor closely, and then walked along until he found a dropping from one of the ponies. He rubbed it between his fingers and sniffed deeply.
