The Quest tes-4

by Wilbur Smith

  That evening Taita stood, with Tansid at his side, on the small darkened balcony outside his chamber and watched the funeral pyre of the Abbot Kashyap burning in the garden of the temple below. He felt a deep sense of loss that he had not come to know the man sooner. Even during their brief acquaintance he had been aware of the affinity that had existed between them.

  A soft voice spoke in the darkness, startling him out of his reverie. He turned and saw that Samana had come up to them quietly.

  'Kashyap was also aware of the bond between you.' She stood at Taita's other hand. 'You, too, are a servant of the Truth. That is why he summoned you so urgently. He would have come to you if his body had been able to carry him that far. During the carnal exchange you witnessed, the last great sacrifice he made to the Truth, Kashyap passed a message to me to deliver to you. Before I do so he required me to test your faith. Tell me, Taita of Gallala, what is your creed?'

  Taita thought for a while, and then he replied: 'I believe that the universe is the battleground of two mighty hosts. The first of these is the host of the gods of the Truth. The second is the host of the demons of the Lie.'

  'What role can we feeble mortals play in this cataclysmic struggle?'

  Samana asked.

  'We can devote ourselves to the Truth, or allow ourselves to be swallowed by the Lie.'

  'If we choose the right-hand path of the Truth, how may we resist the dark power of the Lie?'

  'By climbing the Eternal Mountain until we can see clearly the face of the Truth. Once we have achieved that we will be assimilated into the ranks of the Benevolent Immortals, who are the warriors for the Truth.'

  'Is this the destiny of all men?'

  'Nay! Only very few, the most worthy, will achieve that rank.'

  'At the end of time will the Truth triumph over the Lie?'

  'Nay! The Lie will persist, but so will the Truth. The battle rages back and forth but it is eternal.'

  'Is the Truth not God?'

  'Call him Ra or Ahura Maasda, Vishnu or Zeus, Woden or whatever name rings holiest in your ears, God is God, the one and alone.' Taita had made his confession of faith.

  'I see from your aura that there is no vestige of the Lie in what you

  affirm,' Samana said quietly, and she knelt before him. 'The spirit soul of Kashyap within me is satisfied that you are indeed of the Truth. There is no check and impediment to our enterprise. Now we may proceed.'

  'Explain to me what is our “enterprise”, Samana.'

  'In these dire times, the Lie is once more in the ascendancy. A new and menacing force has arisen that threatens all of mankind, but especially your very Egypt. The reason you have been summoned here is to be armed for your struggle against this terrible thing. I will open your Inner Eye so that you may see clearly the path you must follow.'

  Samana stood up and embraced him. Then she went on, 'There is little time to spare. We will begin on the morrow. But before that I must select a helper.'

  'Who is there to choose from?' Taita asked.

  'Your apsara, Tansid, has assisted me before. She knows what is required.'

  'Then choose her,' Taita agreed. Samana nodded and held out a hand to Tansid. The two women embraced, then looked again to Taita.

  'You must choose your own helper,' Samana said.

  'Tell me what is required of him.'

  'He must have the strength to stand firm, and compassion for you.

  You must have trust in him.'

  Taita did not hesitate. 'Meren!'

  'Of course,' Samana acceded.

  A dawn the four ascended the foothills of the mountains, taking the path through the jungle and climbing until they reached the bamboo forest. Samana examined many of the swaying yellow bamboos before she selected a mature branch, then had Meren cut out a supple segment. He carried it back to the temple.

  From the branch Samana and Tansid carefully fashioned a selection of long bamboo needles. They polished them until they were not much thicker than a human hair, but sharper and more resilient than the finest bronze.

  An air of tension and expectation pervaded the serenity of the temple community. The laughter and high spirits of the apsaras were muted.

  Whenever Tansid looked at Taita it was with awe tinged with something close to pity. Samana spent most of the waiting days with him, fortifying

  him for the ordeal that lay ahead. They discussed many things, and Samana spoke with the voice and the wisdom of Kashyap.

  At one point Taita broached a subject that had long occupied him: 'I perceive that you are a Long Liver, Samana.'

  'As are you, Taita.'

  'How is it that so few of us survive to an age far in excess of the rest of humanity?' he asked. 'It is beyond nature.'

  'For myself, and others such as the Abbot Kashyap, it may be the manner of our existence, what we eat and drink, what we think and believe. Or perhaps that we have a purpose, a reason to continue, a spur to goad us on.'

  'What of me? Although I feel I am a stripling, compared to you and the abbot, I have far surpassed the lifespah of most other men,' Taita said.

  Samana smiled. 'You are of good mind. Until this time the power of your intellect has been able to triumph over the frailty of your body, but in the end we must all die, as Kashyap has.'

  'You have answered my first question, but I have another. Who has chosen me?' Taita asked, but he knew that the question was doomed to remain unanswered.

  m, Samana flashed a sweet, enigmatic smile and leant forward to place a nger on his lips. 'You have been selected,' she whispered. 'Let that suffice.' He knew that he had pushed her to the limit of her knowledge: that was as far as she could go.

  They sat together and meditated, for the rest of that day and half of the night that followed, on all that had passed so far between them.

  Then she took him to her bed-chamber and they slept entwined, like a mother and child, until dawn filled the chamber with light. They rose imd bathed together, then Samana took him to an ancient stone building in a hidden corner of the gardens that Taita had not visited before.

  Fansid was already there. She was busy at a marble table that stood in the centre of the large central room. When they entered she looked up at them. 'I was preparing the last of the needles,' she explained, 'but I will leave if you wish to be alone.'

  'Stay, beloved Tansid,' Samana told her. 'Your presence will not disturb us.' She took Taita's hand and led him about the room. 'This building was designed by the first abbots in the beginning time. They needed good light in which to operate.' She pointed to the large open windows set high in the walls above them. 'On this marble table more than fifty generations of abbots have performed the opening of the Inner

  Eye. Each one was a savant, the term by which we describe the initiates, those who are able to see the aura of other humans and animals.'

  She pointed out to him the writing carved into the walls. 'Those are the records of all who have gone before us throughout the centuries and the millennium. Between ourselves there must stand no reservation. I will give you no false assurances - you would see through any attempt I made to deceive you before I could speak the first word. So I tell you truly that, under the tutelage of Kashyap, I attempted to open the Inner Eye four times before I was successful.'

  She pointed to the most recent set of inscriptions. 'Here you can see my attempts recorded. Perhaps at first I lacked skill and dexterity.

  Perhaps my patients were not far enough along the right-hand path. In one instance the result was disastrous. I warn you, Taita, the risks are great.' Samana was silent for a while, ruminating. Then she went on, 'There were others before me who failed. See here!' She led him to a set of time-worn, lichen-coated inscriptions at the furthest end of the wall.

  'These are so old that they are extremely difficult to decipher, but I can tell you what they record. Almost two thousand years ago a woman came to this temple. She was a survivor of an ancient people who once lived in a great city named Ilion beside the Ae
gean Sea. She had been the High Priestess of Apollo. She was a Long Liver, as you are. Over the centuries, since the sack and destruction of her city, she had wandered the earth, garnering wisdom and learning. The abbot at that time was named Kurma. The strange woman convinced him that she was a paragon of the Truth. In that way she induced him to open her Inner Eye. It was a success that astonished and elated him. It was only long after she had left the temple that Kurma was overtaken by doubts and misgivings. A series of terrible events occurred that made him realize she might have been an impostor, a thief, an adept of the left-hand path, a minion of the Lie. At length he discovered that she had used witchcraft to kill the one who had been originally chosen. She had assumed the murdered woman's identity and been able to cloak her true nature sufficiently to dupe him.'

  'What became of this creature?'

  'Generation after generation of the abbots of the goddess Saraswati have tried to trace her. But she has cloaked herself and disappeared.

  Perhaps by this time she is dead. That is the best we can hope for.'

  'What was her name?' Taita asked.

  'Here! It is inscribed.' Samana touched the writing with her fingertips, 'She called herself Eos, after the sister of the sun god. I know now that it

  was not her true name. But her spirit sign was the mark of a cat's paw.

  Here it is.'

  'How many others failed?' Taita sought to divert himself from his dark forebodings.

  'There were many.'

  'Tell me about some from your own experience.'

  Samana thought for a moment, then said, 'One in particular I remember, from when I was still a novice. His name was Wotad, a priest of the god Woden. His skin was covered with sacred blue tattoos. He was brought to this temple from the northlands across the Cold Sea. He was a man of mighty physique, but he died under the bamboo needle.

  Even his great strength was insufficient to survive the power that was unleashed within him by the opening. His brain burst asunder, and blood spurted from his nose and ears.' Samana sighed. 'It was a terrible death, but swift. Perhaps Wotad was luckier than some of those who preceded him. The Inner Eye can turn itself back on its owner, like a venomous serpent held by the tail. Some of the horrors it reveals are too vivid and terrible to survive.'

  For the remainder of that day they were silent while Tansid busied herself at the stone table, polishing the last of the bamboo needles and arranging the surgical instruments.

  At last Samana looked up at Taita and spoke softly: 'Now you know the risks that you will run. You do not have to make the attempt. The choice is yours alone.'

  Taita shook his head. 'I have no choice. I know now that the choice was made for me on the day of my birth.'

  That night Tansid and Meren slept in Taita's chamber. Before she blew out the lamp Tansid brought Taita a small porcelain bowl filled with a warm infusion of herbs. As soon as he had drunk it he stretched out on his mat and fell into a deep sleep. Meren rose twice in the night to listen to his breathing and to cover him when the cold air of the dawn seeped into the chamber.

  When Taita awoke he found the three, Samana, Tansid and Meren, kneeling round his sleeping mat.

  'Magus, are you ready?' Samana asked inscrutably.

  Taita nodded, but Meren blurted out, 'Do not do this thing, Magus. ) not let them do it to you. It is evil.'

  Taita took his muscular forearm and shook it sternly. 'I have chosen you for this task. I need you. Do not fail me, Meren. If I must do this alone who can say what the consequences might be? Together we can win through, as we have so often before.' Meren took a series of ragged deep breaths. 'Are you ready, Meren? Are you at my side as ever you were?'

  'Forgive me, I was weak, but now I am ready, Magus,' he whispered.

  Samana led them out into the brilliant sunshine of the garden, to the ancient building. At one end of the marble table lay the surgeon's instruments, and at the opposite end stood a charcoal brazier above which the heated air shimmered. Spread on the ground below the table was a sheep's fleece rug. Taita did not need to be told: he knelt in the centre of the rug, facing the table. Samana nodded at Meren; clearly, she had instructed him in his duties. He knelt behind Taita, and folded him tenderly in his arms so that he could not move.

  'Close your eyes, Meren,' Samana instructed him. 'Do not watch.' She stood over them and offered a strip of leather for Taita to grip in his jaws. He refused it with a shake of his head. She knelt in front of him with a silver spoon in her right hand; with two fingers of her other hand she parted the lids of Taita's right eye. 'Always through the right eye,'

  she whispered, 'the side of the Truth.' She spread the lids wide. 'Hold hard, Meren!'

  Meren grunted in acknowledgement and tightened his grip until it was as unyielding as a ring of bronze about his master. Samana slipped the point of the spoon under his upper eyelid and, with a firm, sure movement, eased it down behind the eyeball. Then, gently, she scooped the eye out of its socket. She let it dangle, like an egg, on to Taita's cheek, suspended on the rope of the optic nerve. The empty socket was a deep pink cave, glistening with tears. Samana handed the silver spoon to Tansid, who laid it aside and selected one of the bamboo needles. She held the point in the flame of the brazier until it scorched and hardened.

  It was still smoking as she handed it to Samana. With the needle in her right hand Samana lowered her head until she was staring into Taita's empty eye socket. She judged the position and angle of the optic pathway as it entered the skull.

  Taita's eyelids twitched and shuddered under her fingers, blinking uncontrollably. Samana ignored them. Slowly she introduced the needle into the eye cavity until the point touched the opening of the pathway.

  She increased the pressure until suddenly the needle pierced the membrane and slid in alongside the nerve cord without damaging it.

  There was almost no resistance to its passage. Deeper and deeper it glided. When it was almost a finger's length into the frontal lobe of the brain Samana sensed rather than felt the light check as the point touched the bundle of nerve fibres from both eyes where they crossed at the optic chiasm. The bamboo point was at the portal. The next move had to be precisely executed. Although her expression remained serene, a light film of perspiration shone on Samana's unblemished skin, and her eyes narrowed. She tensed and made the final thrust. There was no reaction from Taita. She knew she had missed the minute target. She drew back the needle a fraction, realigned it, then drove it in again to the same depth, but this time she aimed a little higher.

  Taita shuddered and sighed softly. Then he relaxed as he fell into oblivion. Meren had been warned to expect this, and he cupped one strong hand under Taita's chin to prevent the beloved silver head from dropping forward. Samana withdrew the needle from the eye socket as carefully as she had driven it deep. She leaned forward to examine the puncture in the lining at the back of the eye. There was no weep of blood. Before her eyes the mouth of the tiny wound closed spontaneously. Samana made a humming sound of approbation. Then she used the spoon to ease the dangling eye back into the socket. Taita's eyelids blinked rapidly as it reseated itself. Samana reached for the linen bandage, which Tansid had soaked in a healing salve and laid ready on the marble table, then bound it around Taita's head, covering both of his eyes, and knotted it securely.

  'As quickly as you are able, Meren, carry him back to his own chamber before he comes to his senses.'

  Meren lifted him as though he were a sleeping infant and held his head against his sturdy shoulder. He ran with Taita back to the temple and carried him up to his room. Samana and Tansid followed them.

  When the two women arrived, Tansid went to the hearth, where she had left a kettle warming. She poured a bowl of the herbal infusion and brought it to Samana.

  'Lift his head!' Samana ordered, and held the bowl to Taita's lips, dribbling the liquid into his mouth and massaging his throat to induce him to swallow. She made him take the contents of the bowl.

  They did not have to
wait long. Taita stiffened and reached up to feel the bandage that blindfolded him. His hand began to shake as though pulsied. His teeth chattered, then he ground them together. The muscle in the point of his jaws bulged and Meren was terrified that he might hire off his tongue. With his thumbs he tried to prise the magus's jaws

  apart, but suddenly Taita's mouth flew open of its own accord and he shrieked, every muscle in his body knotted hard as cured teak. Spasm after spasm racked him. He screamed in terror and moaned with despair, then burst into gales of maniacal laughter. Just as suddenly he began to weep as though his heart was breaking. Then he screamed again and his back arched until his head touched his heels. Even Meren could not hold the frail, ancient body, which was now endowed with demonic strength.

  'What possesses him?' Meren pleaded with Samana. 'Make him stop before he kills himself.'

  'His Inner Eye is wide open. He has not yet learnt to control it. Images so terrible as to drive any ordinary man insane are flooding through it and overwhelming his mind. He is enduring all the suffering of mankind.'

  Samana, too, was panting as she tried to make Taita swallow another mouthful of the bitter drug. Taita spewed it at the ceiling of the chamber.

  'This was the frenzy that killed Wotad, the northman,' Samana told Tansid. 'The images swelled his brain like an overfilled bladder of boiling oil until it could contain no more and burst asunder.' She held Taita's hands to stop him clawing at the bandage over his eyes. 'The magus is experiencing the grief of every widow and of every bereaved mother who has ever watched her firstborn die. He shares the suffering of every man or woman who was ever maimed, tortured or ravaged by disease. His soul is sickened by the cruelty of every tyrant, by the wickedness of the Lie.

  He is burning in the flames of sacked cities, and dying on a thousand battlefields with the vanquished. He feels the despair of every lost soul who ever lived. He is looking into the depths of hell.'