Vivian, however, had another thought and she said in a barely audible voice, “We will get out of here because we are supposed to find the black monastery and the Grail.” She asked him, “Do you believe that?”
“No. But you do. And I’m sure Henry does.”
“The signs are all there, Frank.”
“Right.” The signs all said Dead End. But he recalled that Henry had said that faith had kept him alive in the Gulag, so he said to Vivian, to keep her spirits up, “You may be right.”
She took his arm and they moved quickly toward the hospital tent.
Chapter 10
Purcell and Vivian entered the long hospital tent, which was badly lit by candles and oil lamps. The air was filled with the stench of blood and excrement, and with the moans and cries of the sick and wounded. A bright Coleman lamp hung in the rear, and Purcell could see three men with surgical masks standing around a table, attending to a patient.
Purcell took Vivian’s arm and they picked their way between the rows of bandaged men who lay naked on dark blankets. Huge flies landed on their faces and Vivian covered her mouth and nose with her hand as she walked, her head and eyes darting around the darkness, looking for Mercado and Gann.
Doctor Mato spotted them and pulled off his surgical mask, and he and Vivian exchanged a few sentences in Italian, then Dr. Mato returned to his patient.
Vivian said to Purcell, “Henry and Colonel Gann were taken away as soon as Doctor Mato pronounced them well enough to be moved. They are under arrest.”
“We know that. Where were they taken?”
“He says there is a campo… parata militare — a parade ground where prisoners are kept. Due east about five hundred meters.”
Purcell took her arm and led her quickly out of the tent.
A nearly full moon was rising over the eastern hills, and the quiet camp was bathed in an eerie silver glow. Red sparks rose from a hundred campfires, and the air was heavy with the smell of burning straw and dried dung.
They headed east, avoiding the clusters of men around the fires, and avoiding the scattered tents as they tried to maintain their heading across the sprawling camp. In the dark, in their shammas, they attracted no attention.
No military camp, thought Purcell, was complete without a stockade where an army’s misfits and criminals were held to await trial and punishment, and he scanned the moonlit camp for a structure in a field that could serve as a stockade, but he didn’t see anything more substantial than canvas tents.
They continued on, and Purcell spotted the other thing that was a necessity in many military camps; the thing that Getachu had mentioned to Vivian. A long line of soldiers stood smoking and joking in front of a large tent, waiting their turn.
Vivian asked, “What’s going on there?”
Purcell did not reply, and Vivian said, “Oh…”
They moved on.
Vivian was becoming concerned, and she said, “I think we missed it. Let’s ask—”
“Let’s not.”
They continued on and ahead was a large sunken field, which formed a natural amphitheater. At the end of the field, Purcell saw a raised wooden platform, and he realized that this was the parade ground and the muster area where General Getachu and his officers could address their troops.
In front of the platform Purcell also saw a line of poles driven into the ground, which he recognized from too many other third world military camps as whipping posts, or tethering posts where soldiers were chained for punishment and humiliation in front of their comrades. He saw a movement near one of the posts and said, “There.”
They ran toward the posts, and as they got closer they could see three men with their arms over their heads, hanging by their wrists.
Purcell saw that Mercado and Gann were still wearing the clothes he’d last seen them in, but they were barefoot. The third man, a naked and unconscious Ethiopian, hung between Gann and Mercado.
Vivian ran up to Mercado and threw her arms around his chest. He, too, seemed unconscious — or dead — but then Purcell saw his chest heave. Vivian sobbed, “Henry… wake up…” She shouted, “Henry!”
He opened his eyes and looked at her. She stood on her toes and kissed his cheeks.
Purcell saw that the three men wore wrist shackles connected to chains that hung from iron rings embedded in the posts. Their feet touched the ground so they could stand until their knees buckled from fatigue or unconsciousness.
Purcell looked at the Ethiopian in the bright moonlight and saw that the man’s face was puffy and blistered, and his dark skin showed the result of a whipping.
Mercado was fully awake now and standing straight up as Vivian put her face into his chest and sobbed as she squeezed him in her arms.
Purcell moved over to Gann, who was awake and alert, and Gann said to him, “I’m very glad to see you and to see that you and Miss Smith are well and free.”
Purcell found he was slightly embarrassed by their relative fortunes. But that could change quickly. He did not want to give false hope to a man hanging by chains who was condemned to death, but he said, “I’ve spoken to Getachu and there is a chance—”
“Getachu plays with his intended victims. Save your breath.”
Purcell changed the subject and asked, “Is there anything I can get you?”
“We were fed by Doctor Mato and made well enough to hang here until dawn.” He added, “I will be able to walk to my own execution.”
Purcell didn’t respond.
Colonel Gann continued, “Just see if you can convince Getachu to make it quick and clean with a firing squad.”
“He said he respects you as a soldier.”
“I can’t say the same for him. But I’ll take him at his word and expect a proper firing squad.”
Purcell did not reply, but he nodded, then said, “We’ll stay with you through the night.”
“Good. Plenty of empty poles, old boy.”
Purcell smiled at the gallows humor despite the circumstances. He looked up at the shackles and saw they were held by a padlock, as were the chains on the iron ring. If he could find something to cut the locks or the chains, he could free Gann and Mercado and they could all make a run for it.
Gann saw what Purcell was looking at and said, “There hasn’t been a single guard by here, but if you look to your right, you’ll see a watchtower a few hundred meters’ distance.”
“Okay… maybe after the moon sets.” Purcell considered telling Colonel Gann that his old boss, Prince Joshua, had been captured and was no longer a prince or a man. But that wasn’t news that Colonel Gann would find helpful or hopeful. He said to Gann, “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here.”
Purcell walked past the Ethiopian, who was still unconscious, and came up beside Vivian, who was murmuring to Mercado and caressing his chest and hair.
He stared at Mercado and they made eye contact. Finally Mercado took a deep breath and said, “Sorry about all this.”
“It’s been interesting, Henry.”
“Good story if you can file it.”
“Right.”
Mercado said to Vivian, “Go see Colonel Gann. He’s feeling left out.”
She hesitated, then moved past the Ethiopian, but then came back and looked at him. She put her hand on his face and his chest and said, “He’s dying.”
Purcell looked at the three men hanging from the posts. In the morning, Getachu would muster his troops so they could see what happens to people who annoy the general. If he was insane, which he was, he would harangue the troops and threaten them with the same punishment if they stepped out of line. But if he was an accomplished sadist, he would speak to them about their victory, or some other matter, without explaining the three men hanging there. The soldiers could draw their own conclusions.