'Yes, but worse,' she whispered back. 'This time my eyesight was misty with age and you were so far ahead that I could only just make out your dark shape disappearing into the haze.' They were both quiet, until Fenn spoke again. 'I don't want to lose you, but I know I must not squander the loving years that the gods have granted us in futile longing and regret. I must be strong and happy. I must savour every minute of our time together. I must share my happiness with you. We must never talk about this terrible parting again, not until it happens.' She was quiet for a minute longer. Then she said, so low that he could barely make out the words: 'Not until it happens, as it surely must.'
'No, my beloved Fenn,' he answered. 'It is not inevitable. We will not be parted again, ever.' She became still in his arms, barely breathing as she listened. 'I know what we must do to avert it.'
'Tell me!' she demanded. He explained. She listened quietly, but as soon as he had finished she asked a hundred questions. When he had answered them, she said, 'It might take a lifetime.' She was daunted by the scope of the vision he had laid out before her.
'Or it might take just a few short years,' he said.
'Oh, Taita, I can hardly contain myself. When can we begin?'
'There remains much to do before we can repair the terrible damage that Eos inflicted on our very Egypt. As soon as we have done that, we can begin.'
'I shall count the days until that time.'
47}
Day after day, the wind held fair and the rowers pulled with a will, singing over the oars, their high spirits abounding, their arms and backs indefatigable as Nakonto's nephews guided them unerringly through the channels. Each day at noon Taita climbed to the top of the mast to scan the country ahead. Long before he expected it, he picked out, far ahead, the shapes of the first trees above the interminable papyrus. Under the keels of the galleys the Nile grew deeper, and the reed beds on either side opened out. At last they burst out of the Great Sud, and ahead lay the prodigious plains through which the Nile ran like a long green python until it disappeared into the dusty haze of distance.
They moored the galleys under the steep-cut bank. While That and his men were setting up the first camp on dry land for many a long day, they unloaded the horses. A league away across the dusty plain a herd of eight giraffes was browsing in a clump of flat-topped acacia trees.
'We have had no fresh meat since we left the Shilluk,' Taita told That. 'Everyone will be pleased to eat something other than catfish. I purpose to take out a hunting party. Once they have finished building the zareeba, let the people rest and disport themselves,'
Taita, Meren and the two girls strung their bows, mounted and set off in pursuit of the long-necked dappled beasts. The horses were as glad as their riders to be ashore: they stretched out their necks and whisked their tails as they tore across the open ground. The giraffes saw them coming from far off, forsook the protection of the acacia trees and broke into a ponderous rocking gallop across the plain. Their long tails with tufted black tips curled back over their haunches, and their legs on each side swung forward together so that they appeared to be moving away only slowly. However, the hunters had to push the horses to their top speed to overhaul them. As they came up behind them they rode into the dustcloud thrown up by the giraffes' hoofs and were forced to slit their eyes to prevent them being blinded. Taita picked out a half grown bull calf lagging near the rear of the herd whose flesh would be sufficient to feed the entire party and, just as important, tender and succulent.
'That's the one we want!' he shouted, as he pointed it out to the others. As they closed with the animal Taita drew and shot his first arrow into the back of its leg, aiming to sever the great tendon and cripple it. The giraffe staggered and almost fell, but regained its balance
and ploughed on, but at a hampered pace, heavily favouring the wounded limb. Taita signalled to the others. They split into two pairs and pressed in on each side of the animal. From a range of only a few yards they shot arrow after arrow into its heaving chest. They were trying to drive through into its heart and lungs, but the skin was as tough as a war shield and the vital organs lay deep inside. Bleeding heavily, the beast ran on, swishing its tail and uttering a soft grunt of pain as each arrowhead thumped into it.
The riders edged their mounts closer and closer to shorten the range and make their arrows tell more effectively. Sidudu was slightly behind Meren and he had not noticed how recklessly she was riding in on the quarry until he glanced over his shoulder.
'Too close!' he yelled at her. 'Sheer away, Sidudu!' But the warning came too late: the giraffe bucked and lashed out at her with its back leg, a mighty kick that made her mount shy. Sidudu lost her seat and was thrown over its head. She fell heavily and rolled in a cloud of dust almost under the giraffe's hoofs. It loosed a second kick at her that would have shattered her skull had it landed square, but instead it flew over her head. When at last she stopped rolling and sliding she lay deathly still on the ground. Meren turned his own horse back immediately, and jumped down.
As he ran to where she lay, she sat up groggily and gave an uncertain laugh. 'The ground is harder than it looks.' Gingerly she felt her temples.
'And my head is softer than I thought.'
Neither Taita nor Fenn had seen her fall and raced on after the giraffe.
'Our arrows are not penetrating deep enough to kill him,' Taita shouted across at her. 'I must bring him down with the sword.'
'Don't risk your neck,' Fenn shouted anxiously, but he ignored the warning and kicked his feet free of the stirrups.
'Take Windsmoke's head,' he told her, and tossed the reins to her.
Then he drew the sword from the scabbard that hung between his shoulder-blades and vaulted to the ground. He used the momentum of the mare's gallop to throw himself forward so that for a brief space he was able to match the speed of the giraffe. With each pace its huge rear hoof swung higher than his head and he ducked under it. But as the giraffe planted its nearest hoof and placed its weight upon it, the tendon stood out proud beneath the dappled skin as it came under pressure. It was as thick as Taita's wrist.
On the run he took a double-handed grip on the sword hilt and swung the blade hard, aiming to severe the tendon just above the hock. He
47S
