I THE QUEST
their living tent and arranged it to form a mattress. Over it he spread the tiger-skin. He knelt to remove his master's sandals and loosen the belt of his tunic, but Taita snapped at him, 'I am not a puling infant, Meren. I can undress myself.'
Meren smiled indulgently as he eased him back upon the mattress.
'We know that you are not, Magus. Strange, is it not, how often you behave like one?' Taita opened his mouth to protest, but instead gave a soft snore and, in an instant, dropped into a deep sleep.
'He has watched over me while I slept. Now I will attend him, good Meren,' Demeter said.
'That is my duty,' Meren said, still watching Taita.
'You can protect him from man and beast - no one could do that better,' Demeter said, ' - but if he is attacked through the occult, you will be helpless. Good Meren, take your bow and bring us a fat gazelle for our dinner.'
Meren hovered a little longer beside Taita, then sighed and stooped out through the flap of the tent. Demeter settled beside Taita's mattress.
Taita walked beside the seashore, along a beach bright as a snowfield against which rolled shining waters. Breezes perfumed with jasmine and lilac brushed his face and ruffled his beard. He stopped at the water's edge and the wavelets lapped his feet. He looked out across the sea, and saw the dark void beyond. He knew that he was at the very end of the earth, looking on to the chaos of eternity. He stood in the sunlight, but he gazed upon darkness, the stars floating on it like clouds of fireflies.
He searched for the Star of Lostris, but it was not there. Not even the faintest glow remained. It had come from the void, and to the void it had returned. He was assailed by a terrible sorrow, and felt himself drowning in his own loneliness. He began to turn away when, faintly, he heard singing. It was a young voice he recognized at once, although he had last heard it so long ago. His heart bounded against his ribs, a wild creature struggling to be free, as the sound drew nearer.
'My heart flutters up like a wounded quail when I see my beloved's face and my cheeks bloom like the dawn sky to the sunshine of his smile …'
It was the first song he had taught her, and it had always been her favourite. Eagerly he turned back to find her, for he knew that the singer could be none other than Lostris. She had been his ward, and he had been charged with her care and education soon after her natural mother had died of the river fever. He had come to love her, as he knew no man had ever loved a woman.
He shaded his eyes against the dazzle of the sunlit sea, and made out a shape upon its surface. The shape drew closer, and its outline became clearer. He saw that it was a giant golden dolphin, which swam with such speed and grace that the water curled open ahead of its snout in a creaming bow wave. A girl stood upon its back. She balanced like a skilled charioteer, leaning back against the reins of seaweed with which she controlled the elegant creature, and she smiled across at him as she sang.
Taita fell to his knees on the sand. 'Mistress!' he cried. 'Sweet Lostris!'
She was twelve again, the age at which he had first met her. She wore only a skirt of bleached linen, crisp and shining, white as the wing of an egret. The skin of her slim body was lustrous as oiled cedarwood from the mountains beyond Byblos. Her breasts were the shape of new-laid eggs, tipped with rose garnets.
'Lostris, you have returned to me. Oh, sweet Horus! Oh, merciful Isis!
You have given her back to me,' he sobbed.
'I never left you, beloved Taita,' Lostris broke off from her song to say. Her expression sparkled with mischief and a childlike sense of fun.
Though laughter curled her lovely lips, her eyes were soft with compassion.
She glowed with womanly wisdom and understanding. 'I have never forgotten my promise to you.'
The golden dolphin slid up on to the beach, and Lostris sprang from its back to the sand in a single graceful movement. She stood with both arms extended towards him. The thick sidelock of her hair swung forward over one shoulder and dangled between her girlish breasts. Every plane and silken contour of her lovely face was graven into his mind. Her teeth sparkled like a mother-of-pearl necklace as she called, 'Come to me, Taita. Come back to me, my true love!'
Taita started towards her. He hobbled the first few steps, his legs stiff and clumsy with age. Then new strength surged through them. He raised himself on his toes and flew effortlessly over the soft white sand. He could feel his sinews taut as bowstrings, his muscles supple and resilient.
'Oh, Taita, how beautiful you are!' Lostris called. 'How swift and
strong, how young, my darling.' His heart and his spirit were exalted as he knew that her words were true. He was young again, and in love.
He reached out both hands to her and she seized them in a death grip.
Her fingers were cold and bony, twisted with arthritis, the skin was dry and rough.
'Help me, Taita,' she screamed, but it was no longer her voice. It was the voice of a very old man in agony. 'She has me in her coils!'
Lostris was shaking his hands with the desperation of mortal terror.
Her strength was unnatural - she was crushing his fingers and he could feel the pain of bones buckling, sinews cracking. He tried to tear himself free. 'Let me go!' he shouted. 'You are not Lostris.' He was no longer young, the strength that had filled him only a moment before had evaporated. Age and dismay overwhelmed him as he felt the wondrous tapestry of his dream unravelling, ripped to tatters by the chilling gales of dreadful reality.
He found himself pinned down on the floor of the tent by an enormous weight. His chest was caving in under it. He could not breathe. His hands were still crushed. The shrill screams were close to his ear, so close he thought his eardrums might burst.
He forced his eyes open, and the last images of his dream vanished.
Demeter's face was only inches above his. It was almost unrecognizable, distorted with agony, swollen and
