when Boris was not listening. "I think there is going to be trouble
between him and Tessay. I want to stay here with her. Take Tamre with
you."
"My word, what an attractive alternative. All my life I have waited for
this moment." But when he had picked up his rifle and pack, he beckoned
the boy to follow him.
Tamre looked around eagerly for Royan, but she was in her hut. At last,
dragging his feet, he followed Nicholas up the valley.
"Take me to the other side of the river," he told the boy. "Show me how
to reach the side where the holy creature lives." Tamre perked up at the
prospect, and broke into a shambling trot as he led Nicholas over the
suspension bridge below the pink cliffs.
For an hour they followed the path, but gradually it petered out until
it ended in bad and broken ground amongst the erosion'carved hills.
Undeterred, Tamre plunged into the thorny scrub, and for another two
hours they scrambled over rocky ridges and through thorn-choked valleys.
"I can see why you didn't want to bring Royan this way here. You will
not move. You will not speak. You will even breathe very, very quietly,
until I come back to fetch you.
If you utter even one little prayer before I return, I will personally
start you on your journey to meet St.. Peter at the gates of heaven. Do
you understand me?"
He went forward alone, but the little antelope was thoroughly alarmed by
now Nicholas saw it twice more, but he only had fleeting glimpses of
ruddy brown movement almost entirely screened by bush. He stood
directing bitter imprecations towards the boy monk and listening to the
tick of small hooves on dry earth as it raced away, deeper into the
thickets. In the end he was forced to give up the hunt for that day.
It was after dark when he and Tamre got back to camp.
As soon as Nicholas stepped into the circle of firelight, Royan came to
meet him.
"What happened?" she asked. "Did you see the dik-dik again?"
"Don't ask me. Ask your accomplice. He scared it off.
It is probably still running."
"Tamre,'you are a fine young man, and I am very proud of you," she told
him. The boy wriggled like a puppy, giggling and hugging himself with
the joy of her approval as he scurried away down the path to the
monastery.
Royan was so pleased with the outcome of the hunt that she poured
Nicholas a whisky with her own hand and brought it to him as he sagged
wearily by the fire.
He tasted it and shuddered, "Never let a teetotaller pour for you. With
a heavy hand like that you should take UP tossing the caber or
blacksmithing." Despite the complaint, he took another tentative sip.
She sat close to him, fidgeting with excitement, but it was a while
before he became aware of her agitation.
"What is it? Something is eating you alive."
She threw a cautionary glance in the direction of where Boris sat on the
opposite side of the fire, and then dropped her voice, leaned close to
him and spoke in Arabic.
"Tessay and I went down to the monastery this afternoon to see Mek
Nimmur. Tessay asked me to go with her, just in case Boris - well, you
know what I mean."
"I have a vague idea. You were playing chaperone." Nicholas took another
sip of the whisky and gasped. He exhaled sharply and his voice was
husky. "Go on," he invited her.
"At one stage, before I left them alone together, we were discussing the
festival of Timkat. On the fifth day the abbot takes the tabot down to
the Abbay. Mek tells us there is a path down the cLiff to the water's
edge."
"Yes, we know that."
"This is the interesting part - this you didn't know.
Everybody joins the procession down to the river. Everybody. The abbot,
all the priests, the acolytes, every true believer, even Mek and all his
men, they all go down to the river and stay there overnight. For one
whole day and night the monastery is deserted. Empty. Nobody there at
all."
He stared at her over the rim of his glass, and then slowly he began to
smile, "Now that is very interesting indeed," he admitted.
"Don't forget, I am coming with you," she told him severely. "Don't you
dare to even think of leaving me behind."
Nicholas went to her hut again that evening after dinner. This was the
only place in camp where they could be sure of privacy, and where they
were safe from eavesdropping. However, this time he did not make the
mistake of sitting on her bed.
While she perched on the end of it, he took the stool opposite her.
"Before we start planning this thing, let me ask you one question. Have
you considered the possible consequences?"
"You mean, what happens if the monks catch us at it?" Royan asked.
"At the very least we can expect them to run us out of the valley. The
abbot has a tremendous amount of power.
At the worst we can be physically attacked," Nicholas told her. "This is
one of the most sacred sites in their religion, and don't underestimate
that fact. There is a great deal of danger involved. It could go as far
as a knife between the ribs, or something nasty in our food."
"We would also alienate Tessay. She is a deeply religious woman,'Royan
added.
"Even more importantly, we would probably outrage Mek Nimmur as well."
Nicholas looked distressed at the thought. "I don't know what he would
do, but I don't think our friendship would stand the test."
They were both quiet for a while, considering the cost that they might
have to pay. Nicholas broke the silence.
"Then again, have you considered your own position?
After all, it is your own Church that we will be desecrating.
You are a committed Christian. Can you justify this to yourself?"
"I have thought about it, she admitted. "And I am not altogether happy
about it, but it isn't really my Church. It's a different branch of the
Coptic Church."
"Splitting hairs, aren't we?"
"The Egyptian Church does not deny anyone access to even the most sacred
precincts of its church building. I do not feel myself bound by the
abbot's prohibition. I feel that as a believing Christian I have the
right to enter any part of the cathedral that I wish."
He whistled softly, "And you are the one who once said that I should
have been a lawyer."
"Please don't, Nicky. It's not something you should joke about. All I
know is that, no matter what, I have to go in there. Even if I die to do
it."
"You could let me do it for you," he suggested. "After all, I am an old
heathen. It would not spoil my chances of salvation. I don't have any."
"No." She shook her head firmly. "If there is an inscription or
something of that nature, I need to see it.
You read hieroglyphics quite well, but not as well as I do, and you
don't know the hieratic script. I am the expert you are just a gifted
amateur. You need me. I am going in there with you."
"All right. That is settled, then," he said with finality.
"Let's start planning. We had better draw up a list of equipment that we
may need. Flashlight, knife, Polaroid camera, spare film-'
"Art paper and soft pencils to lift an impression of any inscriptions,'
she added to the list.