caravan to move out.
Tamre had insinuated himself into the group of monks who were escorting
the party. He kept close behind Royan as they set off up the trail, with
the lamentations and farewells of the monastic community following them
for the first mile.
It was hot in this brutal midday. There was no movement of air to bring
relief, and the stone walls of the valley sucked up the heat of that
awful sun and spewed it back over them as they toiled up the steep
gradients. It dried their sweat even as it oozed through their pores,
leaving patterns of white salt crystals on their skins and clothing. The
muleteers, spurred on by fear, set a killing pace, trotting behind their
beasts and prodding their testicles with a sharpened stick to keep them
moving at their best pace.
By midafternoon they had retraced the morning's travel and once more
reached the putative site of Taita's dam wall. Nicholas and Royan took a
few.minutes'breather to dip their heads in the river and sluice the salt
and sweat from their faces and necks. Then they stood together above the
falls and took a brief farewell of the chasm in which lay all their
hopes and dreams.
'How long until we return?'she asked.
'We cannot afford to leave it too long,' he told her.
'Big rains are due soon, and the hyenas have got the scent and are
crowding in. From now on every day will be precious, and every hour we
lose may be crucial.'
She stared down into the chasm and said softly, 'You haven't won yet,
Taita. The game is still afoot.'
They turned away together and followed the mules up the trail towards
the escarpment wall. That evening they did not stop at the traditional
campsite beside the river, but pressed on several miles further until
darkness forced a halt. There was no attempt to build a comfortable
camp.
They dined on cakes of injera bread dipped in the wat pot that the monks
had carried with them. Then Nicholas and Royan spread their bedrolls
side by side on the stony earth and, using the mule packs as pillows,
fell into exhausted, dreamless sleep.
The next morning, while the mules were being loaded in the pre-dawn
darkness, they drank a bowl of strong bitter black Ethiopian coffee.
Then they started out along the trail again.
As the rising sun lit the sheer walls of the escarpment ahead of them
they seemed close enough to touch, and Nicholas remarked to Royan, as
she swung along longlegged beside him, 'At this pace we should reach the
foot of the escarpment this afternoon, and there is a good chance that
we might sleep tonight in the cavern behind the waterfall.'
'That means we could cut a couple of days off the journey and reach the
trucks some time tomorrow.'
'Possibly,' he said. 'I'll be glad to get out of here.'
'It feels like a trap,' Royan agreed, looking at the rocky, broken
ground that rose on either hand, hemming them into the narrow bottom of
the Dandera river. 'I have been doing a bit of thinking, Nicky.'
'Let's hear your conclusions.'
