The Sacred Lake (Shioni of Sheba Book 4)

by Marc Secchia

  She eyed the forest warily, muttering to herself, “You are not a baby mouse blindly afraid of leaving its nest, warrior of Sheba.”

  “My warriors patrol the grounds night and day,” the Gondari Captain was saying, “and the Palace itself, and of course they guard the person of our Great King. You may safeguard the Princess of West Sheba as you see fit, General. We will not interfere. If any arrangement for her security does not satisfy you, you have only to inform me, and the matter will be dealt with speedily.”

  “Our Elite warriors will guard the Princess,” replied Getu, as ramrod-formal as his counterpart. “I expect the highest standards of discipline and behaviour of them while we are guests among your people. If any of my men, or those stationed with the merchants, gives any trouble, please inform me. I will deal with them most severely.”

  “Good.”

  Shioni smiled as the Gondari Captain left. He and Getu reminded her of two lions snarling as they paced the edges of their territories.

  “What’re you smiling at?” Getu’s hand clapped her shoulder.

  “I … my Lord, I was just thinking how lion-like you are sometimes.”

  “Huh!” he snorted. “Impressions, Shioni? Report.”

  “I sense nothing strange from the King, my Lord. He seems friendly, if aloof. But I feel as though eyes are watching me … us. Unseen eyes. If there is danger here in Gondar, I don’t know where it may be. I’m uncomfortable.”

  He had that faraway look in his eye, the one that suggested he was looking to a horizon, as though the walls of Gondar did not even exist. “Very well, Shioni. Maintain your disguise. Azurelle, I want you to check every room. I will have my warriors check the outside. Princess?”

  “General?”

  “We need to discuss tactics for tomorrow. The King is an intimidating man, and used to using his size to intimidate others. We must lay our plans, for I sense all is not as it seems in Gondar. This King will surprise us yet.”

  Chapter 13: The King’s Demand

  Her veil covered her brown face up to her eyes. Shioni knelt behind Princess Annakiya’s couch, and listened half-heartedly to the polite conversation as she fought the nausea swirling in the pit of her stomach. It was the eyes. Someone, or something, was watching. Plotting. Calculating. That presence had a malicious purpose, but it was veiled even better than she was. Shioni felt as though an invisible giant were sitting in the room, intent on slowly but surely crushing the life out of her.

  Alemnesh and Mekedis, stationed discreetly along the wall nearby, listened and observed closely with the complete attention of warriors who would have reports demanded of them by the General.

  The King of Gondar sat on his great throne, which no other man would have filled, and managed to make it look like any ordinary chair. His throne stood several feet above the level of the room, where his guests reclined on couches, with the Princess of West Sheba in the place of honour. Other nobles and ministers and functionaries chatted quietly in their groups, drank tej, a honey wine, and ate heartily from the sumptuous golden platters offered to them by many servants. Every element of the room reeked of wealth and magnificence. If this was meant to impress visitors, Shioni thought, then she was unquestionably impressed. She nibbled at a grape, cultivated in the King’s own vineyard. Delicious!

  Nobody seemed to mind the four lions chained around the King’s throne. In fact, the King himself fed them morsels of raw meat from a separate platter. They were large male lions–not as large as Anbessa–but they struck Shioni as cowed and dispirited, a far cry from the wild majesty of the Lord of the Simien Mountains. What would they say if she spoke to them? Perhaps they knew what this strange presence in the room meant.

  Lunch dragged on as the Princess and the King discussed matters of state and trade. The Sheban warriors brought a stream of gifts to the King–jewels, a golden sceptre, salt, spices, frankincense, silk cloth from the Indies, and much more. Several of his ministers read him the scrolls prepared by Prince Bekele. His brow seemed to furrow at the request for access to the Sacred Lake.

  “Princess,” he said at last, “to grant your request is a trivial matter, but the tribes to the south are difficult and quarrelsome. They are controlled not by force, but by allegiance. I must discuss this matter with my advisors.”

  Shioni had no need to see her face to know how deeply his answer upset Annakiya. “My Lord King, please understand–this is a matter of the gravest urgency.”

  Glancing beneath her eyelashes at the King of Gondar, Shioni froze. The beads of sweat on her forehead turned to ice. What had flickered across his features just then? Had she detected a momentary glow behind his eyes? The King seemed confused, casting about for an answer. But then he shook his great head and replied:

  “Of course, Princess. My concern is for your father’s health. I will send for you as soon as these discussions have taken place–I give you my word.”

  Once lunch was finally over, having lasted four hours, Princess Annakiya walked steadily back to their chambers. But when the door, made of aromatic cedar from Lebanon, shut behind her, she turned to General Getu and shouted, “Discussion? What discussion?”

  “I’m as disappointed as you are, my Lady,” said Getu, bowing stiffly. “Quarrelsome tribes? Ha! Vulture droppings. He’ll ask for more, perhaps he wants us to negotiate–”

  “We gave him a King’s ransom! Gold, jewels, cloth … enough to buy his stupid lake and everything on it.”

  “Sometimes gifts cannot buy favour,” the General said. “Perhaps he wants territory, or guarantees, or something else. These are the games Kings play.”

  “Well, he can play them with someone else’s life than my father’s!”

  “Truly spoken indeed.”

  There was much more discussion, but in the end, General Getu’s best counsel was to bide their time and wait for the King of Gondar’s request to be made known.

  Annakiya paced up and down, muttering, “Must I abase myself before him? Offer my kingdom? Offer my own hand in a marriage of alliance?”

  Toward evening, as the servants carefully lit the oil lamps in the rooms and closed the rich hangings against the cooling night air, a sharp rap sounded upon the outer door of the royal chambers.

  “Who is it?” Getu flung open the door.

  The Captain of the Royal Guard saluted and announced, “The King wishes to speak with the Princess of West Sheba.”

  “We will attend him at once,” said Annakiya.

  The Captain bowed deeply and withdrew.

  “Ready, everyone?”

  “Ready,” said Shioni, adjusting her veil. “Zi, are you coming?”

  Zi stepped off the scroll she had been reading. “Coming, you insolent slave-girl. Your impatience is … is …”

  Shioni leaped forward without thinking. Azurelle’s limp body pitched into her outstretched hands. “Zi!” she gasped. “Zi?”

  “She fainted,” said Getu.

  Annakiya asked, “Now what do we do?”

  “Shioni stays with the Fiuri,” suggested the General. “Mama Nomuula told you about the herbs she might need, didn’t she?”

  Shioni nodded unhappily. “She did. But Anni, who will protect you?”

  “I’ve the Elites,” said her friend. “And the General.”

  “But, what I told you earlier …”

  “We spoke about that, Shioni,” Annakiya replied, placing her crown firmly on her head. “If the danger is directed toward you, perhaps you had better stay here, protected by our warriors. We’ll see what the King wants and come right back.”

  General Getu, Alemnesh, Mekedis, and ten of the Sheban Elite warriors all followed the Princess of West Sheba along the flame-lit pathway to the main Palace, leaving Shioni alone in the room with Azurelle. Despite the Sheban warriors standing guard outside, Shioni felt a horrible chill creep down her spine. She shivered.

  “Oh, Zi,” she said, stroking her friend’s wings with her forefinger, “I’ve a bad feeling about all this.” />
  But the tiny Fiuri made no reply.

  Shioni made a place for her beside the pillow on the Princess’ vast bed. Now, in which chest had they packed the herbs? She wished they could have brought Mama Nomuula along. A dose of Mama’s wisdom–or even the sharp end of her tongue–would have been far better than being forced to wait upon the King’s pleasure. What could he possibly want? Why was King of Gondar so reluctant to give permission to travel to Sacred Lake Tana? Getu said he wished he had insisted Shuba, the Kwegu Ascetic, accompany them. But Mama was needed to attend the sick King, and Shuba to advise Prince Bekele.

  Shioni pulled out the herbs and powders, all carefully labelled in Hakim Isoke’s precise hand, and tried to forget she was not supposed to be able to read. She examined a pouch of tiny, stoppered gourds. “First, powdered garnet.” She measured out a minute pinch of red powder. “Anise seed. Mixed pollens. Chopped hair of elephant.” She carefully mixed the powders together, and then added the tiniest drop of liquid from the gourd. The powder fizzed and smoked for a few seconds. “Phew. Stinky.”

  Holding her nose, Shioni dabbed a tiny blob of the resulting paste onto a sliver of bamboo that she picked out of the same pouch. She moved to stand over Azurelle. “Alright, let’s give you a drop of Mama’s best.”

  Working out how to open a Fiuri’s mouth was a challenge. Shioni did not want to hurt her. But once she’d figured out how to use the fingernail of her little finger, the drop went in.

  Nothing happened.

  Shioni massaged Zi’s throat as best she could, assuming she could work the medicine down into her equivalent of a stomach. The minutes stretched. Shioni stretched too, and rubbed a knot in her neck. The Fiuri was not looking good.

  At least the King of Gondar had not been sitting on an onyx throne, unlike her dream and Talaku’s vision. That was a crumb of comfort. A dry crumb that stuck in her throat and refused to be swallowed. Closing her eyes, Shioni tried to extend her senses in the way Zi had described to her. It was especially difficult without an urgent need, as there had been when she confronted Kalcha’s Apprentices at the Mesheha River bridge. Then, she had thought little of it. But now all her efforts earned her was a headache … and an inkling of Annakiya’s return. Whatever that strange presence had been, she could no longer feel it.

  Suddenly, Azurelle coughed. She sneezed and squeaked, “What by all the nectar … ugh! That’s disgusting!” The Fiuri sat bolt-upright. Her green eyes fixed on Shioni. “You! Is it you who fed me this vile concoction, you … you tyrant? You tormentor?”

  “Azurelle!” Shioni rushed over to her side. “You fainted.”

  “We Fiuri do not faint.”

  “You lost consciousness.”

  Zi kicked Shioni on the ball of her thumb as she picked her up. “Bully. Baboon-brained excuse for a friend. Revolting peddler of stinkweed and rotten bananas.”

  Shioni held the Fiuri against her cheek. “Zi, I’m just glad you’re alright.”

  A tiny fist punched her skin. “Poisoner. Have you any idea how foul, how positively noxious–”

  But a noise in the doorway startled them both. The Princess had returned.

  Princess Annakiya stepped into the room as though she feared to face a snarling pack of leopards. Her colour was deathly pale. Behind her, Getu seethed like a dark thundercloud, full of hail and rain. He slammed his fist on the doorpost. “Shut the door.”

  “Anni? What did he say?”

  “Oh, Shioni!” The Princess rushed across the space between them and threw her arms around her friend’s neck.

  An icy cobra slithered up from Shioni’s belly. “He wants to marry you–don’t tell me that, Anni. You’re too young. You can’t. The great, greedy warthog! Were all those gifts not enough, that he has to take you too? I won’t let him! Or … even if he does, I’ll stay with you, Anni. I won’t let you go.”

  “No, no, Shioni. You don’t understand.”

  “What don’t I understand? What?”

  Her friend began to cry softly.

  Getu snarled beneath his breath. In his fury, he seemed unable to summon ordinary speech to his aid.

  Shioni fixed her gaze on General Getu over her friend’s shoulder. She could not understand why Annakiya was so upset. If the Princess was not required to marry the King of Gondar, then what? Clearly the King had no need for more wealth. He was ridiculously rich already, and all his subjects seemed to be in awe of him. What could he possibly want?

  “Oh …” Annakiya quavered. “Oh, what will we do?”

  “General Getu, what did he say?”

  Striking the doorpost again, the General replied, “The King wants you, Shioni. Only you.”

  Chapter 14: Thump and Flee

  Nothing could have prepared Shioni for the General’s flat statement. Her ears filled with a roaring like a bonfire roasting an ox. All of her fears about Gondar came rushing back–Talaku’s dire warning, her dream of the lion, and General Getu’s sense of danger lurking in the place the elephants had named the Den of Angry Lions.

  “Me?”

  “You, Shioni.”

  “Why? I don’t understand.”

  “He told us he had dreamed of a girl with green eyes and golden hair,” the General explained. As he spoke, his hand sliced the air, running an imaginary sword through his enemy. “His ancestors told him such a girl would come from the land of Sheba and would have great power, a power that promised to save the Gondari people. He knew it was you. He pointed out your absence this evening. He said the life of a slave-girl was a trivial thing to a Princess of Sheba.”

  There was a thick silence, in which all that stirred in the room was fear and anger.

  “Well, it is.” Shioni’s voice seemed to belong to a stranger as she added, steadily, “My life for your father’s, Anni. I will–”

  “You will not!”

  “I’ll trade, Anni. Willingly. Just say the word.”

  “I absolutely forbid it!” Annakiya’s fist struck Shioni near her collarbone.

  “Shioni,” said the General, “we could not guarantee your safety. The moment we set foot outside the gates of Gondar …” He made a cutting gesture at his neck. “Meles does not want a wife. He does not want a slave. He wants your power–dead or alive. He’ll need to appease the ancestors. These people believe their ancestors are powerful and can cause terrible trouble if they are not satisfied with gifts. The more potent the gift, the better.”

  Shioni willed herself not to start shaking too. “I’ll run away. Secretly. Tonight.”

  “I suspect the Palace will be doubly well-guarded, tonight.”

  He was right. “My father … here’s an idea. We go to the Sacred Lake. We tell the King he can have me on the return journey.”

  Getu grimaced. “Travel back another way? Or leave a hostage here? That still leaves your neck in the noose, my daughter.”

  “We’d have to leave a hostage,” said the Princess. “The King wouldn’t allow otherwise. Meantime, other warriors travel back secretly to summon the army of West Sheba.”

  General Getu began to rub his beard in that way he always did when he was thinking fiercely. “Should we leave Royal Takazze unguarded for more than a month, with our enemies lurking east, west and north? With all our Elites inside here Gondar, we could cause great injury. Why does this King not fear an attack? Is he better prepared than we think? Does he hide his strength?”

  “You prepared for this, General?”

  “A fiery arrow shot from the roof of the Palace, Princess, and our troops have orders to fall upon the Palace with all they have–from without and within.”

  In the lamplight of her apartment, the Princess’ face had gained none of its colour, Shioni thought. “How many would we lose, General?”

  “Very many,” he replied. “Perhaps all.”

  Shioni put in, “We really walked into the lions’ den, didn’t we?”

  The General made a short bark of laughter that sounded exactly like the alarm call of an angry gelada
baboon. “My other thought,” he said, “is to smoke them out like we did the shiftas. We still don’t know who holds the real power here. Listen to this: we dress Shioni up. Tell the King how dangerous she is. Tell him she destroyed Kalcha. Inform him she has the power to curse him and his household to Hell and beyond.”

  Biting her lip, the Princess began to pace up and down. “It’s too risky, General. We might just convince him she’s the one these ancestral spirits want.”

  “Then we demand to meet his witch or magician or whatever he’s hiding around here. Failing that, we negotiate–she’s your friend, special to the King, offer him gold, garnets … anything. Suggest the wrath of Sheba might fall upon them. And if he still holds his position? We’d have run out of choices. That’s when I warm up an archer on the roof.”

  Although there was much more talk that evening, this was essentially the plan agreed upon. General Getu vanished into the moonless darkness to brief Captain Yirgu and his sub-Captains. Annakiya declared herself too overwrought to read. She cast herself on her bed and rolled about for a very long time.

  As her eyes drooped at last, Shioni felt the feather-light tread of Azurelle upon her pillow-roll. “There’s always me,” she whispered.

  Shioni cracked open her eye. “You’re sweet, Zi. But you know what the problem with you is?”

  “Extremely decorative but no power?” sniffed the Fiuri.

  “Infinitely more decorative than those two lovebirds caged in the corner, Zi,” Shioni said. As if agreeing with her, one of the lovebirds chirped sweetly. “I may have the magic, but I’ve no earthly idea how to use it.”

  “You’re brave.”

  “I hope it won’t come to that, Zi.”

  To her surprise, Zi kissed her cheek. “I’m glad Annakiya refused to give you up.”