Now I understood what Walo was talking about. Above each eye of the little serpent projected a short spine like a tiny horn. There sprang into my mind the picture of the cerastes in the Book of Beasts. It was a serpent with a horn above each eye and, as I recollected, a body that had no spine so that it could tie itself in knots. As if to confirm my thoughts, the serpent slithered and twisted in Walo’s cupped hands, rearranging its coils into tight loops.
‘It was hiding in the sand, just as the book says,’ stated Walo proudly. ‘The horns were standing up, attracting the birds so it could ambush them.’
‘I suggest you return it to where you found it,’ I croaked, ‘its parent might come looking for it, and that could be fatal.’
Casually, Walo lowered one hand and poured the snake from one cupped palm to the other, like a length of scaly rope.
One of the camel handlers was walking past. He took one look at the serpent and let out a yell of alarm, then took to his heels.
Abram came to my rescue. ‘Walo, the cerastes’ parents will be distressed if they find their baby missing.’
Reluctantly, Walo bent down and placed the serpent gently on the ground. There was a writhing motion and, before my eyes, the serpent began to move away sideways, propelling itself in a series of ripples. When it reached a patch of soft sand, it paused then, with a sinuous swimming motion, pushed up the sand around itself until it had disappeared. Only when I looked closely and very cautiously could I still see the sinister flat head just above the surface and the two protruding horns. I promised myself that whenever we camped, I would borrow Osric’s walking staff and poke every suspicious mark in the ground.
That same night we heard our first lions. Their deep, hoarse roars sent shivers down my spine. They began at a distance, then came closer and closer and, finally, from several directions as the beasts prowled around our camp. The sounds were unmistakable, several long roars followed by shorter coughing grunts gradually fading away to nothing as though their lungs were empty. Creeping to the flap of our small tent I looked out and saw bright flames leaping higher from the campfires as the night watchmen threw on more dry twigs. The light cast flickering shadows on our animal cages. The aurochs was standing up, motionless, a hulking dark shadow behind the bars. I detected no movement from where Walo had chosen to sleep on the ground beneath the ice bears’ cage, the dogs tied beside him. To my right and at the outer edge of the firelight, several pairs of animal eyes shone in the darkness. For a chilling moment I feared that our dogs had got free. I plucked up my courage and was about to crawl out of the tent and retrieve them when a branch on the fire flared up. The sudden strengthening of the light revealed the shapes of three or four wild animals. They had the shape of large dogs but oddly distorted. By the time I had recognized the coarse heads and over-size shoulders and the sloping loins, the creatures had wheeled about and darted away. Some time later I heard a new sound from the darkness, a chorus that was part howl, part laugh, and knew that I had seen hyenas.
The boldness of the lions was troubling. The following day, and the day after that, several of the tawny creatures kept pace with us, not far off. They were usually in twos and threes and made no attempt to conceal themselves. Our camel drivers took precautions. Men armed with spears and bows walked on each side of our column, and we stopped well before sunset so that there was time to cut thorn bushes and construct a barricade around the hollow square inside which they hobbled the camels. The bonfires they built were much larger than before, and they kept them burning brightly throughout the dark hours. On both nights, without fail, we heard the deep, coughing roars of the lions, followed by answering manic cries from the hyenas.
‘They’re laughing at us,’ observed Osric. Our little group was sitting close to one of the bonfires as we began a third night in the desert. The calls of the wild beasts had started earlier than usual, even before it was fully dark. This night the hyena pack was leading the chorus.
‘They’re laughing at the lions, not at us,’ corrected Walo. He showed no signs of alarm even though I had reminded him of the bestiary’s warning about the creatures.
‘Why would they want to mock the lions?’ Osric enquired.
‘Because they hope to shame the lions into action.’
Osric threw me a quick sideways glance. He was always careful not to make Walo feel as though he was being teased. ‘I thought lions were meant to be courageous,’ he said.
‘The hyenas think the lions are foolish to be scared of the noise of our waggon wheels,’ said Walo firmly. I realized he was reciting what I had read out to him months earlier from the bestiary: that lions fear the noise of waggon wheels and the sound of a white cock crowing.
Abram spoke up from the other side of the fire. ‘And why aren’t the hyenas fearful too?’
Walo was in no doubt. ‘They are very hungry and must be fed. They want the lions to kill one of us so that after we bury the body, they can dig up the grave and eat his flesh.’
At that moment a great hoarse roar shook the air, louder than anything we had heard before. It came from somewhere in the darkness to our left, beyond the three waggons drawn up in a line as part of the barricade surrounding our camp.
‘What do you think, Sigwulf? Are the hyenas encouraging the lions to attack us?’ said Abram turning in my direction.
‘It’s possible,’ I answered. ‘Every night I’ve seen the eyes of three or four hyenas shining in the darkness, close to the camp. They’ve been watching us, and waiting.’
‘Nasty-looking beasts,’ agreed Osric. ‘I’ll be glad when we get to al-Qulzum.’
‘The hyenas are patient because they know something will happen,’ said Walo softly.
I heard Abram suck in his breath, a derisive sound, and was reminded how he had teased Protis for his belief in the Minotaur.
‘Walo may be right,’ I intervened. ‘Maybe the hyenas do know what will happen. The Book of Beasts says that in the eye of a hyena there’s a stone. If a man puts that stone beneath his tongue, he will be able to see into the future.’
‘Can’t be a pleasant taste, I’m sure,’ said Abram with a yawn. ‘I’m going to turn in.’
He got to his feet and went off to the tent he shared with his three Radhanite assistants. Walo, Osric and I stayed by the fire a little while longer, and when Walo left to make a final check on the ice bears, Osric and I retired to our small tent.
As Osric was taking off his heavy sandals, he suddenly turned to me. ‘If the Oneirokritikon can help us interpret our dreams, maybe the stone from a hyena’s eye really can help man look into the future.’
I was too tired to think of a sensible reply and, for the first time since we entered the desert, I found that I could shut out the noises of the wild beasts, and fell asleep almost at once.
*
‘The aurochs has escaped!’ The blunt announcement brought me sharply awake. I sat up, reaching for the cloak I had been using as a blanket. There was just enough light to make out Abram’s head and shoulders thrust in through the tent flap. I guessed it was just before sunrise, that quiet, still hour when the world seems to be waiting silently for the dawn of the new day. In the background I could hear the bubbling and groaning of the camels. But there were no lion roars.
‘When did it happen?’ I croaked. My lips were cracked and dry.
Abram dropped his voice, now that he had roused me. ‘Less than ten minutes ago. My man guarding the water tank heard the creature jump down from the cage. He came straight to me and raised the alarm.’
‘Where’s the aurochs now?’ I asked, rolling off my sleeping mat and hurriedly pulling on my boots. I did not even pause to give them a shake in case some crawling creature had occupied them during the night.
‘He says it ran off into the desert.’
‘Thank God it didn’t decide to go into the camp,’ I said. I didn’t want to imagine the havoc had the beast attacked the camels or gored the men.