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"The riverPhe announced importantly. Nicholas came up beside them and

whistled softly with surprise. Tamre had led them around in a wide

circle to the west, and then brought them back to the Dandera river at a

point where it still ran in the bed of the deep ravine.

Now they stood on the very edge of the chasm. He saw at once that,

although the top of the rocky ravine was less than a hundred feet wide,

the chasm opened out below the rim. From the surface of the water far

below, the rock wall belled out in the shape of one of the pottery tej

flasks.

It narrowed again as it neared the top where they stood.

 saw the holy thing over there."Tamre pointed to the far side of the

chasm where a small feeder spring meandered out of the thorny bush.

Streamers of bright green moss, nourished by the spring, hung from the

lip of the concave rock wall, and the water trickled down them and

dripped from the tips into the river two hundred feet below.

"If you saw it there, why did you bring us to this side of the

river?"Nicholas demanded.

Tamre looked as though he were on the point of tears.

This side is easier. There is no path through the bush on the other

side. The thorns would hurt Woizero Royan."

"Don't be a bully," Royan told him, and put her arm around the boy's

shoulder.

Nicholas shrugged, "It looks like the two of you are ganging up on me.

Well, seeing that we are here, we might as well sit a while and see if

great-grandpa's dik-dik puts in an appearance."

He picked out a spot in the shade of one of the stunted trees that hung

on the lip of the chasm, and with his hat swept the ground clear of

fallen thorns until there was a place for them to sit. He placed his

back against the trunk of the thorn tree and laid the Rigby rifle across

his lap.

By this time it was past noon, and the heat was stifling.

He passed the water bottle to Royan and, while she drank, glanced at

Tamre and suggested to her in English, "This might be a good time to

find out what, if anything, the lad knows about the Taita ceramic in the

crown. He is besotted with you. He will tell you anything you want to

know.

Question him."

She began gently, chatting softly to the boy. Occasionally she stroked

his head and petted him as though he were a puppy- She spoke to him of

the previous night's banquet, the beauty of the underground church, and

the antiquity of the murals and the tapestries, and then at last

mentioned the abbot's crown.

"Yes. Yes. That is the stone of the saint," he agreed readily. "The blue

stone of St. Frumentius."

"Where did it come from?" she asked. "Do you know?" The boy looked

embarrassed, "I do not know. It is very old, perhaps as old as Christ

the Saviour. That is what the priests say."

"You do not know where it was found?"

He shook his head, but then, eager to please her, he suggested, "Perhaps

it fell from heaven."

"Perhaps." Royan glanced at Nicholas, who rolled his eyes upwards and

then pushed his hat forward to cover his face.

"Perhaps St.. Frumentius gave it to the first abbot when he died." Tamre

warmed to the subject. "Or perhaps it was in his coffin with him when he

was placed in his tomb."

"All these things are possible, Tamre,' Royan agreed.

"Have you seen the tomb of St. Frumentius?"

He looked around him guiltily. "Only the ordained priests are allowed

into the tnaqdas, the Holy of Holies," he hung his head and whispered.

"You have seen it, Tamre," she accused him gently, stroking his head.

She was intrigued by the boy's guilt. "You can tell me. I will not tell

the priests."

"Only once," he admitted. "The other boys. They sent me to touch the

tabot stone. They would have beaten me if I had not. All the new

acolytes are made to do this." He began to babble with the horror of the

memory of his initiation ordeal. "I was alone. I was very afraid. It was

after midnight when the priests were asleep. Dark. The maqdas is haunted

by the ghost of the saint. They told me that if I was unworthy the saint

would strike me down with lightning."

Nicholas removed the hat from his face and straightened up slowly. "My

word, the child is telling the truth," he said softly. "He has been into

the Holy of Holies-'Then he looked across at Royan, "Keep questioning

him. He may just give us something useful. Ask him about the tomb of St.

Frumentius."

"Did you see the tomb of the saint?" she asked, and the boy nodded

vigorously. "Did you go into the tomb?" This time he shook his head.

"No. There are bars across the entrance. Only the abbot is allowed into

the tomb, on the birthday of the saint."

"Did you look through the bars?"

"Yes, but it is very dark. I saw the coffin of the saint. It is wood and

there is painting on it, the face of the saint."

"Is he a black man?"

"No - a white man with a red beard. The painting is very old. The

picture is faded, and the wood of the coffin is rotting and crumbling."

"Is it lying on the floor of the tomb?" Tamre screwed up his face in

thought, then after careful consideration shook his head. "No, it is on

a shelf of stone in the wall."

"Is there anything else you remember about the tomb of the saint?" Royan

tried to prod his memory, but Tamre shook his head.

"It was very dark, and the opening in the bars is small, he apologized.

"It does not matter. Is the tomb in the back wall of the rrtmdu?"

."Yes, it is behind the altar and the tabot stone."

"What is the altar made of - stone?"

"No. It is wood, cedarwood. There are candies, and a big cross, and the

many crowns of the abbot, and the chalice and staff."

"Is it painted?"

"No, it is carved with pictures. But they are different from the

pictures inside the tomb of the saint."

"What is different? Tell me, Tamre."

"I don't know. The faces are funny. They wear different clothes. There

are horses." He looked puzzled. "They are different."

Royan tried for a while to get a clearer description from him, but he

became more and more confused and contradictorywhen she pushed him, so

she changed tack.

"Tell me about the tabot," she suggested, but Nicholas forestalled her.

"No, you tell me about the tabot," he demanded of her.

"Is it similar to the Jewish Tabernacle?"

"Yes, at least in the Egypti She turned to him, an Church it is. It is

usually kept in a jewelled box and wrapped in an embroidered cloth of

gold. The only difference is that the Jewish Tabernacle is carved with

the ten commandments, but in our Church it is carved with the words of

dedication of the particular church that houses it.

It is the living heart of the Church."

"What is the tabot stone?" Nicholas frowned with concentration.

"I don't know," she admitted. "Our Church does not have a tabot stone."

"Ask him!

"Tell me about the tabot stone, Tamre."

"It is so high, and so square." He indicated a height of a little above

his own shoulder, and the width of his spread hands.

"And the tabot stands on top of this stone?" Royan guessed.

Tamre nodded.

"Why did they send you to touch the stone and not the tabot itself?"