Trust in providence! thought Noell. Without undue pause, he passed the blade of the blood-stained knife through the candle flame for a second time, and then he scored Quintus’s arm exactly as he had scored Langoisse’s. He placed the cup on the table-top, and Quintus let the blood run over his skin to drip from his wrist into the mixture.
The pirate looked from one to the other, first at the monk, and then at the mechanician’s son, but he did not speak until the flow of blood had eased. Then, he said: ‘We will be brothers now, will we not? Past hatreds are dissolved, whether forgiven or not. Whatever becomes of us, we are akin.’
Noell took up the cup, and weighed it briefly in his hand. Then he offered it to Langoisse, remembering as it was taken from him how the Lady Cristelle had once offered her blood to this man, who had refused it once, and then taken it at another time. He remembered, too, how the same lady had asked to drink his blood, and how he had refused her, in spite of her distress.
Langoisse did not hesitate. He was quite ready for this moment, and no thought of what the cup contained could give him pause. He dipped his fingers in the bloody mixture, then clapped his hand upon his arm, and rubbed away at the wound, gasping at the pain but not shirking in the least. Then, he took his own dagger and made a cut upon his breast, and rubbed his fingers there too.
These touches were painful, and Langoisse made a face, but he was avid to press as much of the mixture as he could preserve into his wounded flesh. ‘Well, Master Cordery?’ he said. ‘Dost take the draught with me?’
Noell was not entirely prepared, for his thoughts were in turmoil and his heart was racing in his breast. Nevertheless, he found sufficient composure to hold out the cup, steadily enough, to Quintus. The monk reached out, to take some of the mixture on his fingertips, and then – with much more delicacy than Langoisse had shown – touched it to the wound upon his arm, tracing the length of the cut, moving his sticky fingers slowly back and forth.
Noell, to his alarm, felt nauseous, though he remembered that when he had watched the rite in Iletigu, it had been Quintus and not he who had sought to hide his eyes.
He put his fingers to the rim of the cup, and was about to draw what remained there on to his fingers, when he was interrupted by a sudden thought. ‘Leilah,’ he whispered.
‘What of it?’ replied the pirate, very quickly, and with unseemly roughness.
‘She should be here!’
Langoisse made no reply, but reached forward with his bloodied hand to press Noell’s fingers to the cup, forcing him to take the slimy stuff whether he would or no. Then the pirate snatched the cup from him, and ran his own fingers greedily around the bowl, trying to scrape up every last drop of what it had contained.
The pirate looked at him, and fiercely said: ‘I brought you life, Master Cordery. Use it, or be damned!’
Noell hesitated a moment more, crushed by the pirate’s apparent cruelty in leaving his mistress behind. Then he gave way to the rushing pressure of events, and clasped his fingers tightly about his arm, digging his nails into the wound which he had made, biting his lip against the great surge of pain which made him shudder with distress.
When that surge finally eased, and he opened the tear-filled eyes which he had closed against the hurt, Noell watched Langoisse lick his bloody fingers, one by one.
‘I wish I’d sweet Madeira wine to soothe the taste away,’ the pirate said. ‘We might drink a toast to the endurance of our souls, and the hope that our bodies might remain intact until the end of time. Brothers, Master Cordery, kin we are, and naught can change it now.’
Then, and only then, did Noell ask the question which he had not been able to ask, because it was not seemly. ‘How, Langoisse?’ he whispered. ‘How did you get the semen?’
‘Why,’ said the pirate, ‘what does it matter how? Did you care, when you put it in my mind that I might steal it? Were you careful to say how I might and might not go about the task, when you told me that we must quit this place? Oh no, my brother in blood … you did not care then, and you must not ask me now.’
Noell was hurt by the taunt. The pain of his self-inflicted wound was far greater than he had anticipated, and there was a sickness too which churned in his gut, unexpectedly.
‘There is no time for this,’ said Quintus, reasserting the command which he had long ago surrendered to his protegé. ‘I will bandage your arms, and you must bind mine. If we become vampires, the wounds will no doubt heal, but if we do not, they will need protection. And then we must make haste, to get out of this place. Will you fetch Leilah, Langoisse, when I have bound your wound?’
‘Oh aye,’ said Langoisse, fingering the second wound which he had made upon his breast. ‘Bind me well, father, for we have a longer way to go tonight than we may imagine. I’ll fetch my little darling, and the black man too, for we must make sure to count among our party a sufficient source of blood. I suppose Ngadze will come, though he has not been forewarned?’
‘I hope so,’ said Quintus. ‘I believe that he is homesick now. At any rate, I do not think he will raise an alarm. ’
Noell, to his shame, felt his gorge rise again, as he realised this implication of what he had done, and knew that he should have considered it before. But the thought that Langoisse had withheld this elixir from his mistress, because he might need her for his vampire’s prey, was so appalling in its callousness that Noell could not find words to voice his pain. He had so bravely used the pirate to serve his end, and never thought how Langoisse might serve his own. And to mock him too, with these claims of brotherhood in crime!
The thought that he might now become a predator, to use Ntikima and Ngadze as Ghendwa had once used them, was more hurtful than he could have imagined. He fought to control himself, and suffered Quintus to bind his arm while the pirate left the room, swaggering in a fashion which Noell had not seen for many years.
‘What have I done?’ asked Noell, of his dearest, yet untrusted, friend. ‘What have I done?’
Quintus did not immediately reply, but looked at him hard-eyed, knowing that he had not been told, that he had not been trusted, that his judgement had not been sought. He was hurt, and Noell could see that hurt in his ancient face; he was injured by the knowledge that Noell had been ashamed to tell him what was in his mind.
‘Only time will tell,’ replied the man of God. ‘Perhaps thou hast delivered us from all that threatens us. Perhaps thou hast failed in everything, save to hasten us to uncomfortable death.’
TWELVE
When they hurried through the dark corridors and across the open space atop the ridge, none tried to hinder their going. While they found their way down a winding cleft to reach the outer slopes of Adamawara, they were forced to go most carefully, with only the light of the stars and a crescent moon to guide them, but all the five came safely down, and by the time they were among the trees dawn was near to breaking.
The four donkeys which they had brought safely to Adamawara a year before were waiting patiently, tethered to a tree, but there was no sign of Ntikima. There were packs on the donkeys’ backs, containing food and blankets; in one there were four muskets, with powder and shot, and Noell was glad to see them, though not as cock-a-hoop as Langoisse. Noell looked all around, wondering why Ntikima was not there, but it was necessary to make all speed in getting away. When Kantibh or Aiyeda discovered that they had gone, a chase was sure to ensue.
They took the donkeys, each of the four men guiding one while Leilah lagged behind, and they began to make their way down a steep slope, which led them to the north-west, away from the country of the elemi. Noell looked back but once, as much to catch a glimpse of the gypsy as to look at the hard grey heights, but it was the sternness of the mountains which called forth an echo in his soul.
Farewell to the Garden of Eden, he thought, sarcastically, and on, if we can, to the land where the sons of Cain cry havoc.
He was not sorry to be gone from Adamawara, but could not help feeling anxious about the uncertainti
es of the way that lay ahead. As the company progressed under the shadow of the forest canopy, whose end they would not see for many days, he wondered whether a man who was becoming a vampire could feel the change inside him, and what feeling that might be. In his own self, he felt no different at all, but did not know whether this was a sign that his makeshift elixir had failed.
Quintus was the one who led the way, taking his direction from the sun. They had only the vaguest notion of the route they must follow, despite the attention they had paid to the way they had come, but their resolve was to keep as straight as they could until they came out of the evil forest and into the lands of the Sahra, where they might find food. If the Sahra would help them, and offer them the same hospitality as before, then they would be able to equip themselves to cross the first of the grasslands before it had dried into a firetrap. Then, of course, there would be the Fulbai to face, and though they had only a few guns and donkeys, they were an attractive target for thieves.
Though they were safe from the silver death, having suffered its ravages once and recovered, the lifeless forest was still a daunting prospect, with its unnatural trees, its oppressive silence, and its uneven ground. The donkeys made slow progress despite the thinness of the undergrowth, but they were able to continue long into the afternoon, taking brief rests every hour, because the shade and the altitude kept the sun’s heat from becoming too troublesome.
It was not until the sun was sinking in the west that they stopped to rest, and while Noell pulled off his boots wearily in order to inspect his feet, which had been so softened during his time in the city that they were blistering badly, he looked anxiously back along their path for any hint that Mkumkwe warriors were on their trail.
He could see no immediate indication of pursuit, and turned his full attention to his feet. As he inspected the tender spots, wincing with the discomfort, he wished fervently that he had the vampire trick of quieting pain. Langoisse came to sit beside him, and remarked that his elixir seemed so far to have failed them.
‘We must wait and see what happens,’ said Noell. ‘If we become vampires, well and good. If not, then I will have more work to do when we return to Gaul. Perhaps there are many foul concoctions yet to test before the secret is found.’ Langoisse went away.
Leilah came to Noell, then, and took Langoisse’s place beside him while the pirate went to help in the building of a fire, where the water for supper would be set to boil. Noell wondered whether it was wise to risk the making of the fire, but he knew that the passage of five humans and four donkeys would make too obvious a track to be missed. If the Mkumkwe came after them, they would know which way to come.
He did not doubt that they would come – but when? And where was Ntikima?
‘Hast thou forgiven me, then?’ asked Leilah.
‘Didst need forgiveness?’ he asked, in surprise. ‘If anyone has been betrayed, surely it was thee?’
She stared at him, and he wondered if she knew what had happened. ‘Did Langoisse tell you nothing?’ he asked, in a whisper full of pain. ‘I made an elixir last night, with his help, but he would not bring you with him to try it, and … .’
Suddenly, he read in her eyes what he should have known from the very beginning – what he should have understood not yesterday but several days before. He knew then why Langoisse had taunted him, and saw how very stupid he had been. He asked himself, bitterly, how in all the world he had avoided knowing, when he had seen what Langoisse brought him in the little jar.
‘You’ he whispered. ‘You procured the semen.?
‘Thou didst not know?’ she asked, far less anxious than he about his ignorance. ‘But ’twas thee who explained to Langoisse how the vampire ladies of Gaul were made by their lovers’ discharge. I thought thou must have known that he would send me whoring after Kantibh, and were bitter with jealousy, despite the pretty vampire lover who came so often to thine own bed.?
Noell felt a sudden impulse to laugh, as he realised that Langoisse had not brought her to their meeting because she had already had taken her ration, in less elaborate fashion than they, of that which might make her immortal. And the pirate had let him believe that he sought to use her for his prey!
‘The man has the devil’s sense of a jest,’ he muttered, hardly knowing whether to cry in delight or curse his stupidity.
‘Kantibh was nothing but whoring,’ she told him, defiantly. ‘I did as I was commanded.’
‘I too,’ replied Noell, ‘though my whoring after secret wisdom seems to have come to naught. Perhaps the dark gods have their part to play after all, and do not like us for our presumption.’
They were silent for a while, watching as the sun went down, and darkness fell upon the forest like a cloak. Then Ngadze called out to them, complaining that they must eat, and Noell put his boots back on. He stood up first, and reached out a hand to help her rise. She took it, eagerly enough.
‘I have forgiven thee,’ she whispered, though she would not meet his eyes.
‘And I thee,’ he replied, and squeezed her hand within his own before letting go so that they might walk to the fire and join in the meal.
They posted a guard when they went to sleep. First Ngadze stood watch, and then Noell. Langoisse was still exultant with the fire that had come back into his weary frame, but Noell knew the pirate would need every minute of his rest, and Quintus too. He was resolved for his own part to stay awake all night, if it should be necessary.
He had lost all track of time, and perhaps had dozed a little, when he saw the lights dancing in the forest, and knew that their pursuers had not rested at all, but had come after them even through the night.
He moved the musket which lay across his knees, then reached out to stir Ngadze with its butt.
‘They are upon us,’ he whispered, ‘and we must fight.’
Ngadze looked out into the night, and tried to count the pinpricks of light which moved between the trees. ‘Egungun?’ he asked.
‘Does it matter what masks they wear?’ said Noell. ‘You are Ibau, and Egungun belongs to the Uruba.’
The black man shook his head, fearfully. ‘The Ogbone have given Egungun to all their peoples,’ he said. ‘If Egungun come, we all must die, white and black alike, for this is their own land, and none can stand against the risen dead, wherever they appear.’
‘Take up a gun,’ said Noell, ‘and wake the others. We stood against them once before, and brought Shango to our aid. We must do the same again.’
He tried to make a rough wall from the packs, that they might lie behind a crude redoubt and rest the muzzles of their guns upon it. But when he saw the great ugly masks lit by the torches which their pursuers carried, he wondered what use his powder and shot would be. These were Egungun, to be sure, and in such numbers that five men, well-armed or not, could hardly hope to stand against them. As they approached, bearing spears as well as torches, they seemed to him a mighty host, sent against them by Shigidi.
We stopped them before, he told himself, with but a single shot.
Somehow, he did not think a single shot would be enough, this time.
‘Trust in Shango,’ he murmured. Then Ngadze knelt beside him, and Quintus on his other side. Behind him, he heard Langoisse say: ‘Wait until they are close, and aim not at the masks, but at the unprotected bodies beneath.’
There was a clearing around their camp, and a huge rounded rock just beyond its edge, with withered trees beside it. When the Egungun came around the rock they gathered there, forty yards away, raising their torches and their spears in threat. Noell counted them as they emerged to form a great long line. There were thirty-five in all.
‘Wait,’ said Langoisse, in a whisper. ‘Take careful aim, and do not waste your shots, for the love of Heaven!’
But as he spoke, another figure appeared, on top of the great rock, lit by the fire of the torches which the Egungun carried. This one was not the same as the others, but had a painted body, and wore a mask more gorgeously endowed, on whic
h the jagged whiteness of lightning stood out from a night-black ground. The eyes which were set in the mask held such a measure of wrath that even the white men drew breath at their awesome stare.
‘Don’t fire? whispered Noell, with sudden urgency. ‘For the love of God, hold still!’
Noell had seen this figure once before, in the rite which he had watched in Iletigu. He had known it then for the representation of a god – a god who had more power in Adamawara than any other, save only Olorun. This god had made Adamawara. Noell knew now what Ntikima had meant when he had said that they must put their trust in Shango.
The Egungun took one pace forward, and then a voice rang out behind them, magnified by a cone of wood in the mask’s wide mouth, calling them to halt. And halt they did, for they were not at that moment men of the Mkumkwe, but the risen dead come back to call the living to account: subjects not of the elemi but of the gods. And the one upon the mound was not Ntikima at all but Shango, god of storms and master of thunder and lightning.
The Egungun turned, and the figure high above them began to beat upon a drum, while its magnified voice howled out an incantation, whose syllables rose and fell like the wind howling in a storm. The Egungun bowed low, as they were bound to do by their nature, and they knelt, and they listened to what it was that they were ordered to do.
Noell counted his heartbeats while the strange shrieking filled the air, keening in such an eerie fashion that he could hardly believe the sounds were produced by a human throat. On and on went the strange song, neither prayer nor invocation, in a language which Noell did not know, and somehow did not ever want to learn.
Beside him, Quintus was whispering an appeal of his own, in the Latin of the Roman church. Even Langoisse made the sign of the cross, and Ngadze shivered in superstitious terror, as he had before when he watched the gods at work in the world of men.
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