entrance to the Abbay gorge. We should rendezvous with them before dawn
tomorrow."
"And from there to the monastery?"
"Another two days' march," Mek replied. "We will be there just in time
to receive the drop from your fat friend in the fat plane."
He turned away and gave his last orders to the platoon commander who
would remain at Roseires to guard the stores. Then he assembled the
party of six men who would form their escort across the border. Mek
divided up the loads between them. The most important single item was
the radio, a modern military lightweight model which Nicholas carried
himself.
"Those bags of yours are too difficult to carry. You will have to repack
them," Mek told Nicholas and Royan. So they emptied their bags and
stuffed the contents into the two canvas haversacks that Mek had ready
for them. Two of his men slung the haversacks over their shoulders and
disappeared into the darkness.
"He is not taking thatV Mek stared aghast at the bulky legs of the
theodolite that Sapper had retrieved from one of the pallets. Sapper
spoke no Arabic, so Nicholas had to translate.
"Sapper says that it is a delicate instrument. He cannot allow it to be
dropped from the aircraft. He says that if it is damaged he will not be
able to do the work he was hired for."
"Who is going to carry it?" Mek demanded. "My men will mutiny if I try
to make them do it."
"Tell the cantankerous bugger that I will carry it myself." Sapper drew
himself up with dignity. "I wouldn't let one of his great clumsy oafs
lay a finger on it." He picked up the bundle, placed it over his
shoulder and stalked away with "a stiff back.
Mek let the advance guard have a five-minute start, and then he nodded.
"We can go now."
Thirty minutes after Big Dolly had taken off, they left the airfield and
set out across the dark and silent plain, headed into the east. Mek set
a hard pace. He and Nicholas seemed to have the eyes of a pair of cats,
Royan thought, as she followed close behind them. They could see in the
darkness, and only a whispered warning from one of them prevented her
falling into a hole or tripping over a pile of rocks in the darkness.
When she did stumble, Nicholas seemed always to be there, reaching back
to steady her with a strong, firm grip.
They marched in complete and disciplined silence. It was only every
hour, when they rested for five minutes, that Nicholas and Mek sat close
together, and from the few quiet words she picked up Royan realized that
Nicholas was explaining to him the full reasons for their return to the
Abbay gorge. She heard Nicholas repeat the names "Mamose' and "Taita'
often, and Mek's deep voice questioning him at length. Then they would
be up again and moving forward in the night.
After a while she lost all sense of the distance they had travelled.
Only the hourly rest periods orientated her to the passage of time.
Fatigue crept over her slowly, until it required an effort to lift her
foot for each pace. Despite her boast, her knee was beginning to ache.
Now and then she felt Nicholas touch her arm, guiding her over the rough
places. At other times they would stop abruptly at some whispered
warning from up front. Then they would stand quietly waiting in the
darkness, nerves tensed, until at another whisper they would move on
again at the same pressing pace. Once she smelt the cool muddy effluvium
of the river on the dry warm night air, and she knew that they must be
very close to the Nile. Without a word being spoken she sensed the
nervous tension in the men ahead of her, and was aware of the alertness
in the way they carried themselves and their weapons.
"Crossing the border now," Nicholas breathed close to her face, and the
tension was infectious. She forgot her tiredness, and heard her pulse
beating in her own ears.
This time they did not stop for the usual rest break, but continued for
another hour until slowly she felt the mood of the men changing. Someone
laughed softly, and there was a tightness in their pace as they swung on
towards the luminescence in the eastern sky. Abruptly the moon thrust
its crescent horns above the dark silhouette of faroff mountain ranges.
"All clear. We are through," Nicholas told her in his normal voice.
"Welcome back to Ethiopia. How are you feeling?"
"I' okay."
"I am tired too." He grinned at her in the moonlight.
"Pretty soon we will camp and rest. Not much further."
He was lying, of course- the march went on and on until she wanted to
weep. And then suddenly she heard the sound of the river again, the soft
rushing flow of the Nile in the dawn. Up ahead she heard Mek talking to
the men who were waiting for them, and then Nicholas guided her off the
path and made her sit while he knelt in front of her and unlaced her
boots.
"You did well. I am proud of you," he told her, as he stripped off her
socks and examined her feet for blisters.
Then he unbandaged the knee. It was slightly swollen, and he massaged it
with a skilled and tender touch.
She sighed softly, "Don't stop. That feels good."
"I'll give you a Brufen for the inflammation." He dug the pills out of
his pack and then spread his padded jacket AI for her to lie on. "Sorry,
the sleeping bags are with our other gear. Have to rough it until Jannie
makes his air drop."
He passed her the water bottle, and while she swallowed the pill he
pulled the tab on a pack of emergency rations. "Not exactly gourmet fare
He sniffed the contents.
"In the army we call them rat packs." She fell asleep with her mouth
still halffilled with tasteless meat loaf and plastic cheese.
When Nicholas woke her with a mug of hot sweet tea, she saw it was
already late afternoon. He sat beside her and sipped at his own mug,
noisily blowing away the steam between each mouthful.
"You will be pleased to know that Mek is now fully in the picture. He
has agreed to help us."
"What have you told him?"
"Just enough to keep him interested."Nicholas grinned.
"The theory of progressive disclosure. Never tell everything all at
once, feed it to them a little at a time. He knows what we are looking
for, and that we are going to dam a river."
hat about men to work on the dam?"
monks at St. Frumentius will do whatever he tells them. He is a great
hero."
"What have you promised him in return?"
"We haven't got round to that yet. I told him that we have no idea what
we are going to find, and he laughed and said he would trust me."
"Silly boy, isn't he?"
"Not exactly how I would describe Mek Nimmur," he murmured. "I think
when the time is ripe he will let us know what the price of his
cooperation is." He looked up at that moment. "We were just talking
about you, Mek."
Mek strode up to them, and then squatted on his haunches beside
Nicholas.
"What were you saying about me
"Royan says you are a hard bastard, pushing er on a forced march all
night."
"Nicholas is spoiling you. I have been watching him fussing over you,'
he chuckled. "What I say is, treat them rough. Women love it." Then he
grew serious. "I am sorry, Royan. The border is always a bad place. You
will find me less of a monster now we are on home ground."
"We are very grateful for all you are doing." He inclined his head
gravely, "Nicholas is an old friend, and I hope that you are a new
friend."
"I have been terribly distressed. Tessay told me last night that there
had been trouble at the monastery."
Mek scowled and tugged at his short beard, pulling a tuft of hair from