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Nicholas demanded, but Royan shook her head to silence him.

"Let me do the talking. You are too harsh with him. She turned back to

the boy. "Why the stone, rather than the Ark of the tabot that stands on

top of it?"

Tamre shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. They just did."

"What does the stone look like? Are there paintings on it also?"

"I don't know." He looked distraught at not being able to satisfy her.

He wanted desperately to please her.  don't know. The stone is wrapped

with cloth."

Nicholas and Royan exchanged startled glances, and then Royan turned

back to the boy.

"Covered?" Royan leaned closer to him. "The stone is covered?, "They say

that it is only uncovered by the abbot on the birthday of St..

Frumentius."

Again Nicholas and Royan stared at each other, and then he smiled

thoughtfully. "I would rather like to have a look at the tomb of the

saint, and the tabot stone - in its uncovered state."

"You' have to wait for the saint's birthday," she said, she broke and

have yourself ordained. Only the priests off and stared at him again.

"You aren't thinking of - no, you wouldn't, would you?"

"Who, me?" he grinned. "Perish the thought."

"If they caught you in the maqdas, they would tear you to little

pieces."

"The answer, then, would be not to let them catch me."

"If you go, I am going with you. How are we going to manage it?"

"Throttle back, dear girl. The thought only occurred to me ten seconds

ago. Even on my good days, I need at least ten minutes to come up wit a

brilliant plan of action."

They both stared out across the chasm in silence, until Royan whispered

softly, "The covered stone. Taita's stone testament?"

"Don't say it aloud," he pleaded, and made the sign against the evil

eye. "Don't even think it aloud. The Devil is listening."

They were silent again, both of them thinking furiously. Then Royan

started, "Nicky, what if-' she broke off. "No, that won't. work." She

relapsed into frowning silence again.

Tamre broke the quiet with a sudden squeak of excitement, "There it is.

Look!'

They were both startled by the interruption. "What is it?" Royan turned

to him.

Tamre seized her arm and shook it. He was trembling with emotion. "There

it is. I told you." With his other hand he was pointing out across the

river, "There at the edge of the thorn bushes. Can't you see it?"

"What is it? What can you see?"

"The animal of John the Baptist. The holy marked creature."

Following the direction of his outflung arm, she picked out a soft,

brownish blur of movement at the edge of the thicket on the far bank. "I

don't know. It is too far-'

Nicholas scrabbled in his pack and brought out his binoculars. He lifted

and focused them, and then he began to chuckle.

"Hallelujah! Great-grandpa's reputation is safe at last." He passed the

binoculars to Royan. She focused them and found the little creature in

the field. It was three hundred yards away, but through the ten-power

lens she could make it out in detail.

It was almost half as large again as the common dikdik that they had

seen the previous day, and instead of drab grey its coat was a rich red

brown. Its most striking feature, however, was the distinct dark bars of

chocolate colour across its shoulders and back - five evenly spaced

markings that did indeed look like the imprint of fingers and thumb.

"Madoqua harperii, no less," Nicholas whispered to her.

"Sorry, great-grandfather, for doubting you."

The dik-dik stood half in shadow, wriggling its nose as it snuffled the

air. Its head was held high, suspicious and alert. The soft breeze was

quartering between them and the animal, but every so often a wayward

eddy gave it the faint whiff of humanity that had alarmed it.

Royan heard the snick of the rifle action as Nicholas worked the bolt

and chambered a round. Hurriedly she lowered the glasses, and glanced at

him. "You aren't going to shoot it?" she demanded.

"No, not at that range. Over three hundred yards, and a small target.

I'll wait for it to get closer."

"How can you bring yourself to do it?"

"How can I not? That's what I came here to do, amongst other things."

"But it's so beautiful."

"I take it, then, that it would be perfectly all right to whack it if it

were ugly?"

She said nothing, but raised the binoculars again. The eddy of the wind

must have changed, for the dik-dik lowered its head to nibble at a tuft

of coarse brown grass.

Then lifted its head again and came on down the clearing in the Thorn

scrub, stepping daintily, pausing every few paces to feed again.

"Go back. She tried to will it into safety, but it kept on coming,

meandering towards the edge of the chasm.

Nicholas rolled on to his stomach and settled himself behind the trunk

of the tree. He screwed up his hat into a soft pad on which to rest the

rifle.

"Two hundred yards," he muttered to himself "That's a fair shot. No

further." Resting the cushioned rifle on the twisted root, he aimed

through the telescopic sight. Then he lifted his head, waiting to let it

come within certain range.

Abruptly the dik-dik lifted its head again and came to a halt, quivering

with tension.

"Something he doesn't like. Dammit all, wind must have changed again,'

Nicholas growled. At that moment the little antelope bolted. It streaked

across the clearing, back the way it had come, and disappeared into the

thorn scrub.

"Go, dik-dik, go!" said Royan smugly, and Nicholas sat up and grunted

with disgust.

"I can't make out what frightened him." Then his expression changed and

he cocked his head. There was an alien sound on the air growing each

second - a harsh, rising clatter and a shrill, whining whistle.

"Chopper! What the hell!" Nicholas recognized the sound immediately. He

took the binoculars from Royan's hand and turned them to the sky,

sweeping the cloudless blue emptiness above the tops of the escarpment.

"There it is," he said grimly, adding, "Bell Jet Ranger," as he

recognized the profile. "Coming this way, by the looks of it. No point

in drawing attention to ourselves. Let's get under cover."

He shepherded Royan and the boy under the spread branches of the thorn

tree. "Sit tight," he told her. "No chance they will spot us under

here."

He watched the. approaching helicopter through the binoculars. "Probably

Ethiopian air force," he said softly.

"Anti-shufta patrol, most likely. Both Boris and Colonel Nogo warned us

that there are a lot of rebels and bandits operating down here in the

gorge-' he broke off abruptly.

"No. Hold on. That's not military. Green and red fuselage, and the red

horse emblem. None other than your old friends from Pegasus

Exploration."

The sound of the rotors crescendoed, and now with her naked eye Royan

could make out the flying horse on the fuselage of the helicopter as it

flew low across their front, half a mile out, headed down towards the

Nile.

Neither of them paid any attention to Tamre as he crouched behind Royan,

trying to hide behind her body.

His teeth were chattering with terror and his eyes rolled until the