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.'
