'Let the Basmara attack across that open ground,' Hilto observed, with satisfaction, 'and we will shock them.'
'Now you can set up markers in front of the stockade,' Taita told him.
They placed cairns of white river stones at twenty, fifty and a hundred paces so that the archers could have the enemy accurately ranged as they sent in their attacks.
Taita sent Imbali with her companions and the other women to the dry river to cut reeds for arrow-making. He had brought bags of spare arrowheads from the armoury at Qebui fort, and when they had been used, he discovered an outcrop of flint in the hillside below the stockade.
He showed the women how to chip the flint fragments into arrowheads.
They learnt the skill quickly, then bound the heads into the reed shafts with bark twine and soaked them in water to make them tight and hard.
They stacked bundles of spare arrows at salient points along the perimeter of the stockade.
Within ten days all of the preparation had been completed. The men and Imbali's women sharpened their weapons and checked their equipment for what might be the last time.
One evening as the men gathered around the fires for the evening meal, there was a sudden stir and a burst of cheering as an ill-assorted couple came into the firelight. Meren was unsteady on his feet, but supported himself with a hand on Fenn's shoulder as he came to where Taita sat with the captains. They all jumped to their feet and crowded round him, laughing and congratulating him on his swift recovery.
A linen bandage covered his empty eye socket, and he was pale and
thinner, but he was making an effort to walk with something of his old swagger, and countered the sallies of the officers with ribald ripostes. At last he stood before Taita and saluted him.'
'Ho, Meren, bored with lying abed to be tended by all the females in camp?' Taita had spoken with a smile but he had difficulty in repressing the pang he felt when he saw the callused warrior's hand on Fenn's dainty shoulder. He knew that his jealousy would become keener as her body and beauty matured. He had experienced that corrosive emotion during her other life.
The following morning Meren was at the practice butts with the archers. At first he had difficulty in keeping his balance with only one eye to steady himself, but with fierce concentration he was at last able to master his unruly senses and train them anew. His next difficulty came in estimating the range and the hold-over of his aim. His arrows either dropped away before they reached the target or flew high above it. Grimly he persevered. Taita, who had been the champion archer in all the armies of Queen Lostris, coached him, teaching him the technique of letting fly his first arrow as a marker, and using it to correct the second, which he released immediately afterwards. Soon Meren could loose a second while the first was still in flight. Fenn and the Shilluk wives made him a leather eyepatch to cover the unsightly socket. His countenance regained its naturally healthy hue, and the remaining eye its old sparkle.
Every morning Taita sent out a mounted patrol, but they returned each evening without having discovered any sign of the Basmara regiments.
Taita consulted Imbali and her women.
'We know Chief Basma well. He is a vengeful, merciless man,' Imbali told him. 'He has not forgotten us. His regiments are scattered along the hills of the Valley of the Great Rift, in the river gorges and the marshes of the lakes. It will take time for him to muster them, but in the end he will come. We can be certain of it.'
Now that the most important preparations had been completed, Taita had time for less vital work. He showed the women how to make dummy human heads with lumps of clay and grass set on top of long poles. These they painted with natural pigments, until the results were convincing when seen from a distance. They enjoyed this more than arrow-making.
However, the waiting was starting to wear on their nerves.
226
I
'Even considering the distance they must cover from here to Kioga, Basmara should have arrived,' Taita told Meren, as they ate their dinner round the campfire. 'Tomorrow you and I will ride out to scout the terrain for ourselves.'
'And I shall go with you,' piped up Fenn.
'We shall see about that when the time comes,' said Taita, gruffly.
'Thank you, beloved Taita,' she said, her smile sweet and sunny.
'That was not what I meant,' he replied, but they both knew that it was.
The child was endlessly fascinating, and Taita delighted in her presence. He felt that she had become an extension of his own being.
When the patrol rode out, Fenn was between Taita and Meren.
Nakonto and Imbali trotted ahead as trackers to read the sign. On her long legs Imbali could match Nakonto over the leagues. Habari and two troopers brought up the rear. For once Taita wore a sheathed sword at his waist, but carried his staff in his hand.
They rode along the crest of the hills whence they could look down the full length of the valley. On the left the terrain was rolling and heavily forested. They saw numerous large herds of elephant spread out below the ridge. Their huge grey bodies showed up clearly in every open glade, and every so often a large fruit-bearing tree was sent crashing to earth by their massive strength. When a tree was too strong to yield to the efforts of a single beast, the other bulls came to his assistance. No tree could resist their combined assault.
Since the tribes had fled from this land the elephant had not been molested, and they were unalarmed by the close proximity of humans.
They did not flee at the first approach but stood their ground while the horsemen passed close by. Occasionally a cantankerous female indulged in a threatening display, but none pushed home her attack. Fenn was delighted by the antics of the calves, and plied Taita with questions about the mighty beasts and their ways.
The elephants were not the only wild animals they encountered.
There were herds of antelope, and yellow baboons foraged in the open glades or swarmed nimbly to the tops of the tallest trees. One troop erupted into shrieking panic. The mothers snatched up their infants and slung them under their bellies as they bounded away in flight. The big males formed a belligerent rearguard, fluffing out their manes and uttering explosive barks of fury.
'What ails them?' Fenn demanded.
'Likely a leopard or some other predator.' As Taita spoke, a beautiful
gold and black spotted cat stalked out of a patch of grass just ahead: The leopard's markings blended perfectly with the background.; 'You were right again, Taita. You must know everything there is to know in this world,' Fenn told him admiringly.
They angled up the slope of the next range of hills, but before they reached the crest a vast herd of zebra thundered over the skyline. Their hoofs tore up the dry earth and lifted a cloud of pale dust high into the brazen sky. They took little notice of the horses, seemingly accepting that they were of their own species, and passed them within a few paces.
'Something must have alarmed them,' Meren said.
'Fire or men,' Taita agreed. 'Nothing else would have caused a stampede on this scale.'
'I see no smoke of a bushfire,' Meren said. 'It must be men.' They rode cautiously now, approaching the skyline at a walk.
Suddenly Fenn exclaimed again and pointed to the left. 'A child! A little black child.'
It was a naked infant of no more than three or four years. He was toddling up the slope on bowed legs, his plump little buttocks wobbling with each pace.
'I am going to pick him up,' Fenn exclaimed. She pressed Whirlwind into a trot, but Taita grabbed her rein.
'Fenn, this smells like ripe bait.'