The Sacred Lake (Shioni of Sheba Book 4)

by Marc Secchia

  Chapter 24: Race to the Sacred Lake

  GEneral Getu ordered HIS troops to turn in right after dark that first evening. He posted sentries around their small campsite and commanded the men to rest. “We’ll need all our strength and cunning when we meet Haile,” he said. Shioni knew this rest was mostly for her benefit. She chafed and fretted her way to sleep.

  But her eyes had barely closed when she felt the General’s hand shaking her awake again. “What time is it?” she mumbled, muzzy with sleep.

  “The tenth hour of night,” he said. “We’ve starlight and a new moon. Time to move.”

  She had slept from the second to the tenth hour? That left two hours until sunrise. Shioni rolled her shoulders and stretched gingerly. Her muscles and back felt as though she had wrestled an hour with Talaku, the Mad Giant; she was still recovering from Haile’s attack. Annakiya appeared, looking brighter and more cheerful than anyone had a right to at that hour of the not-yet morning. Shioni shook off an urge to slap the Princess of West Sheba.

  Quickly, she took down the tent and packed up their few belongings. A warrior brought over her and Annakiya’s horses. Shioni saddled them up with a practised hand.

  The cavalcade, sadly reduced from the hundreds which had departed Takazze three weeks before, moved from the murky shadows beneath the trees to the slightly less murky shadows across the trail.

  “Eyes, ears, and every other sense you have, wide open,” General Getu ordered Shioni as he rode ahead to lead the column.

  A warrior nearby said, “How he sees anything in this pit is beyond me.”

  The General set an ambitious pace. Here and there, warriors grunted or hissed as they fell afoul of unseen branches. But once dawn fired the sky in a glorious blaze of orange, the complaining stopped–despite the General pushing the pace even harder. He knew exactly when to allow the horses to walk. The men snacked and drank on the hoof. Shioni wondered how Annakiya would handle the hard ride as the day meandered on beyond noon, but no-one was prepared to slow down. And now she had her own exhaustion to worry about. The afternoon sun seemed unbearably bright and close. Sweat trickled down her neck. Her head drooped toward her chest.

  Strong hands lifted her onto another horse. Who …? But her body seemed to belong to another person. Her eyes felt weighed down with mountains as large as the Simiens. Shioni dreamed strange, chaotic dreams: dreams of lions, and dark-faced assassins, dreams of many Fiuri huddled in a cave as a storm of wild magic screamed outside; she saw Talaku striding up mountains, towering over huts in the villages he passed and pushing over trees while laughing madly. She moaned softly in her sleep. Her eyes flickered up to Captain Yirgu’s face, glancing down at her with a concerned expression, before she drifted off again into an intense, everlasting battle with hyenas who walked like men, where she stood upon a mountaintop wielding a sword made of lightning; a circle of young lions jeered and snapped at her, and she dreamed of painted men lying in wait in the forest just ahead.

  Painted men … “Yirgu!” Her head seemed swollen with the heat. “Warriors … beware …”

  “What?”

  He must think she was raving. Shioni rallied herself. “Warn the men. Now!”

  “Shields up!” roared Yirgu, sounding like a trumpet in her ear. “Ambush!”

  Belatedly, a smattering of arrows spit out of the treeline to fall upon the column. One Sheban warrior toppled off his horse and lay unmoving, but the others dodged or took the arrows on their shields, before spurring their horses between the tall tree trunks. Yells of anger and pain broke out all around them. Annakiya, far from taking shelter beneath the two warriors trying to protect her, drew her bow and started taking speculative pot-shots into the undergrowth. She was rewarded with several yells of dismay. Shioni made to draw her bow and join the fight, but Yirgu stilled her with a quiet word.

  He was right. The last sounds of shouting faded into the bush, and then all was quiet.

  Two men had died: the Sheban who fell first, and a scout who had been surrounded in the woods. Not one of Haile’s rebels escaped. Shioni saw one Elite with an arrow which had passed right through his forearm. He snapped the shaft and drew it out. “Huh. Lucky shot,” he said. “I’ll carry on, Captain. Anyone got spare cloth for a bandage?”

  When blank looks passed around the company of warriors, Shioni cut a strip off her tunic and handed it to him.

  “Nice shooting, Princess,” Getu grunted. “Shioni, good work for the warning.”

  She dropped her eyes. “Nice work from someone who was sleeping.”

  “Short break, everyone. We’ll bury our dead. Quickly. A little water for the horses. Captain Yirgu, set a perimeter watch.”

  All too soon, Shioni’s increasingly sore rump was back in the saddle and the group pressed on. She felt better, thankfully, and Annakiya passed Azurelle over to her.

  But the trail vanished, forcing them to wind through the forest along animal trails.

  “Now, I’ve been thinking about what you said about Haile,” the Fiuri began, in a tone Shioni knew spelled ‘lecture’ in no uncertain terms. “You need a lighter touch. Where I come from, Fiuri need to be masters of the light touch, because being heavy-winged is a sure way to invite trouble to your hollow. Trouble, which is spelled m-o-n-s-t-e-r-s. And possibly magicians from rival tribes. Also, we keep our reserves high in case of trouble. Now you need to keep your ch–” she clapped a hand to her mouth, “–oops, nearly gave away a Fiuri secret there.”

  Shioni raised an eyebrow in pretend shock, knowing this was Azurelle’s heavy-winged way of dropping a subtle hint. “Oh, Zi, you have to tell me,” she begged. “Please. I’ll give you all the nectar in this forest–”

  “Isn’t any.”

  “–all the honey in Gondar–”

  “I prefer nectar.”

  “I will cross the Simien Mountains for you, your royal tininess, and scour every hill and valley in the realm of Abyssinia to bring to your incomparable taste buds a selection of the finest nectars–”

  “Oh, stop, now you’re just embarrassing me.” Azurelle stroked her antennae. “Well, the Fiuri word is chiuleil–it means ‘store of magic’, but it’s more than that. It is what you have, who you are, and what you’re capable of, if that makes sense. Don’t shake your head at me. You are not as dense as you look. Now, we’re going to practise being delicate. When you reach out to sense someone or something, you don’t want to give away what you’re doing, or who you are. So you need to separate yourself from the tool. Imagine you’re a spider spinning a delicate web, or a butterfly-person landing on a perfect flower without so much as brushing the pollen … you get the idea. Come. Let’s get started. Reach out to me.”

  “I need to watch where I’m going.”

  Azurelle snorted. “You’ve Getu, Annakiya, Captain Yirgu, Abba Petros, and a couple of dozen warriors to watch where you’re going. You need to learn not to get swatted like a mosquito.”

  “Were you eavesdropping, Zi?”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it. Now, I’ll close my eyes and tell you when I feel your touch.”

  At Azurelle’s coaxing, Shioni began to reach out with her senses. “Gently,” muttered the Fiuri. “A spider’s web. Delicate as silk.” She tried again. And again. After a while, she began to feel she was getting the idea.

  “How’s this, Zi? I’m getting it, aren’t I?”

  Zi opened her eyes. “That’s like Shifta charging down the road, trumpeting and flapping his ears.”

  Shioni sighed and tried again, biting her lip to help her concentrate. “What about this?”

  “That’s Shifta walking heavily down the road.”

  “Ugh. What about … this?”

  “Shifta having a noisy bath in the river, snorting water everywhere.”

  “Zi!”

  “Friends tell the truth, don’t they?”

  “There’s something to be said for how they tell the truth, and how much.”

  Azurelle folded her arms and tapped her foot o
n Shioni’s palm. “Oh, really? How’s that, exactly?”

  “There’s telling the truth like Shifta smacking you with his trunk, versus telling the truth like–what was it–a butterfly-person landing on a flower without disturbing the pollen?” Zi unfurled her tongue, the entire inch-long purple length of it … “Don’t be rude, Zi. I’m sorry I’m such a bad student. Teach me again. I promise I’ll listen better this time.”

  “Sarcasm makes my antennae itch horribly,” said Zi. “Now, let’s think about what you’re trying to detect–physical effects, emotional charge, changes in the spiritual realm, or magical signatures? Each of these has its own tricks and forms.”

  “You see, Zi? You do know about magic.” Shioni sighed. “Please …?”

  “Actually, teaching Fiuri magic to non-Fiuri is forbidden. Many creatures seek our secret knowledge.”

  “Well, I’m not about to visit Fiuriel am I? What do you want me to do–swear an oath?”

  “Kalcha was the one who brought Fiuri magic here to your Earth,” Zi pointed out. “We need to fight her with whatever we have. Especially as she’s in cahoots with Haile. I need no oath from you, Shioni.”

  “Very well, Zi. I’m listening. And … thank you.”

  Shioni focussed her attention on the tiny Fiuri as she explained the remaining hours of the afternoon away. It was one thing being a magical creature, she thought, and quite another being a student who had no idea where her magic came from. Understand it, Abba Petros? This was like trying to walk up a volcano blindfolded.

  Right at nightfall, they broke free of the tremendous forest south of Gondar.

  “A day and a half from here,” said Getu. “We’ll keep going, then nap a few hours before pushing for the lake tomorrow.”

  The column pressed on until the stars wheeled high across the brilliant night sky. A short nap later and long before dawn, they were trotting out over long, rolling hills, barren but for wisps of tan grass and an occasional tree standing starkly alone. “Many of our people make sacrifices to the spirits at these trees, especially those in the high places, my Lady,” a Gondari scout told Annakiya.

  They passed such a tree at dawn. Shioni gazed curiously at the ribbons and bits of string hanging from the branches, and a small offering of kolo and some other grains set out next to the trunk. “What’s smeared on the trunk?” Annakiya asked the scout.

  “The cream skimmed from cow’s milk, my Lady. A rich gift for the ancestors.”

  Shioni rubbed the gooseflesh on her arms. Something about this place–the desolation, perhaps, or the strange, twisted tree–gave her the creeps.

  Turning her horse with her knees, Shioni scanned the horizon. There was a glimmer out there, a line of brilliantly reflected sunlight. The Sacred Lake. She was just about to call to Annakiya in excitement when she caught sight of a dot moving on a faraway hillside. She narrowed her eyes. What was it doing–waving at her?

  “Haile,” she gasped. “Oh my …”

  He knew exactly where they were. And he was mocking them.

  She rode down to General Getu and reported the sighting to him.

  “We need to leave this place,” he said. “Princess!”

  Why was he so abrupt? Shioni whirled, sensing danger. She reached for her bow. An arrow shaft twirled between her fingers to land against the string. She tracked movement with her eyes. A sparrowhawk, screaming down from the sunward skies, claws extended, zeroing in on the Princess of West Sheba with clear intent. She loosed a shot, but the arrow swerved in the air. A broken feather? Her hands blurred as she drew another arrow and sent it hot on the heels of the first. This one flew true.

  Two feet from the Princess’ head, the sparrowhawk spun in the air and dropped at her horse’s feet.

  “Yah!” Shioni shouted, digging in her heels. The horse sprang up the slope. She shouted, “Don’t touch it!”

  She leaped down from her horse. Annakiya gasped, “What was that, Shioni?”

  Taking another arrow from her quiver, Shioni used the point to turn the bird over. “Ah, look. Poisoned claws.” Haile had lashed additional metal claws to the bird’s feet. A green, sticky substance coated the sharp tips.

  “How’d you guess?” Getu growled next to her ear. And to the scout, he said, “Bury the bird. But don’t touch it with your hands or you’re a dead man.”

  “What you said about needing to leave, my Lord. I had a bad feeling about this place … and I saw Haile.”

  “You saw him?”

  “Anni, it’s alright.” Shioni gathered her mount’s reins and swung up into the saddle. “Out near the horizon. He’s hours ahead of us.”

  “But he left this little welcome,” said the Princess, in a shaky voice. “Shioni, I … I …”

  She bowed her head. “You ran into Haile’s cave for me.”

  “Ladies, thank each other later. We’ve a job to do.” General Getu rounded up their small group and explained what had happened. “Eyes open, everyone,” he ordered. “Now, who’s for trying to catch the traitor?”

  The warriors shouted as they smashed their swords and spears on their shields. Shioni, however, was startled to find that she could not draw her new sword. It was stuck in the scabbard. She yanked at it several times, without success. What in the …?

  But she had no time to think about the sword. General Getu led the charge downhill at a gallop, closely followed by Abba Petros and Captain Yirgu. Shioni urged her horse, “Go, boy.” She would shadow Annakiya. And she was not convinced that she wanted to catch Haile … but they had to. The wind buffeted her ears as the horse picked up speed. Wishing Haile away would not work. They had to catch him, and stop him, once and for all.

  Chapter 25: Little Boat, Big Hippo

  PRincess Annakiya folded Her arms as she turned a tired, fierce scowl on the Gondari scout. “I thought we’d reach the lake and find the island right away.”

  “It’s a big lake, my Lady,” he said, straight-faced. “The forest slowed us down, and we cannot push horses much harder than we have already. Tana Qirqos is an island a good ways down the eastern lake shore, just beyond a large river called the Gumara. And there we must find reed boats to paddle to the island.”

  “And yet Haile seems to fly before us as the wind.”

  “He’s probably helping his horse with magic,” said Azurelle.

  “Cheating,” Annakiya and Shioni said together.

  “We’ll walk once it gets dark,” said General Getu. “I don’t fancy breaking my neck just yet.”

  Shioni wondered why the wind blew so cold after the sun’s reluctant exit behind the hills west of the Sacred Lake. Was a storm brewing? She watched the breeze ruffling the blue water, tinged with tan, probably dust or soil from the surrounding hills. It couldn’t be magic, could it, aimed at preventing them from reaching Tana Qirqos? She smacked her forehead. Not every shadow hid a sorcerer, Shioni!

  “If there are slave-girls to be beaten, can I have a turn?” Annakiya grinned.

  “If there are Princesses to be spanked, can I have a turn?”

  “Ooh. For the greater glory of Sheba and all that?”

  They shared a chuckle.

  “Anni,” Shioni said suddenly, “draw my sword.”

  The Princess gave her a searching look. “I shan’t ask why, shall I?” Touching the reins lightly to bring her mount closer, Annakiya reached out. “This isn’t some trick, is it?”

  Her eyes widened.

  “I wish it was a trick,” Shioni confirmed. “Look, I can’t draw it either.”

  “You’ve tried magic?”

  From the corner of her eye, Shioni noticed General Getu taking a keen interest in the goings-on. “I’ll try … no. It’s like it doesn’t want to come out. I don’t understand. When I first received the sword–I didn’t tell you this, Anni–I had an uncanny feeling it was made for me. Or at least, meant for me. I’m being stupid, right?”

  General Getu, Annakiya, and Azurelle all exchanged baffled looks.

  Finally, Getu s
aid, “Nothing seems stupid to me anymore. Here, let me try.”

  Shioni wanted to unbuckle the scabbard from the belt, but quickly discovered there was no obvious way to do that either. She settled for removing the belt and handing it to Getu. He dropped it with a low cry.

  “My Lord?” said Annakiya.

  The General’s eyes had flickered with fear. Shioni had never seen him afraid before. She dismounted swiftly. “Let’s let Captain Yirgu try, Anni.”

  Did the taint of dragon venom in the General’s blood mean he could not handle the sword? Shioni watched the muscular Captain fail to draw the blade. “Might as well be stuck in a rock,” he said. “And no obvious clip or hook to snag it in there. Rusted in, do you think?”

  “A weapon of such craftsmanship?” Getu snorted.

  No-one wanted to say that King Meles had given Shioni a useless gift. But in the end, the discussion simply went in circles. Even Abba Petros had little to add. “It doesn’t feel evil,” he said. As the evening drew in, Getu ordered the warriors to dismount and lead their horses. Shioni glumly accepted Captain Yirgu’s spare dagger. Great, now she was armed with a toothpick when she needed a weapon that could summon lightning from the sky and burn Haile like … she shuddered. That was a power she did not want. Ever.

  As night fell and wisps of cloud conspired to cover the stars, the Shebans tramped steadily along the lake shore. Sand, rock, and reeds; the terrain seemed never-changing and unending. They splashed through numerous streams feeding the lake, and had to detour several times away from the shore to find safe places to cross. Getu watched the clouds rolling in with a dour eye. Around the sixth hour, or midnight, he declared a rest as travel had become dangerous.

  Princess Annakiya barely waited for Shioni to unroll a gabi before she lay down and promptly fell asleep. Shioni could not have agreed more. Dog-tired did not even describe how she felt. Asleep on her feet? Finished? Ready to fall over? And, apart from a few fresh tracks, there was no sign of Haile. Getu did not want to light torches, reckoning that Haile might have other forces in the area.