Birds of Prey

At last they forged their way out of this morass of humanity, and spurred up the steep track into the hills. Fasilides led them at a gallop, his robes swirling about his wiry figure and his beard streaming out over his shoulder. At the crest he reined in his steed and pointed to the south. "There!" he cried. "There is Adulis Bay, and there before the port of Zulla lies the army of Islam." Hal shaded his eyes against the desert glare, and saw that the dun cloud of smoke and dust was shot through with sparks of reflected sunlight from the artillery trains and the weapons of another vast army.

"How many men does El Grang command in his legions?" "That was my mission when you found me to find the answer to that question from our spies."

"How many, then?" Hal persisted, and Fasilides laughed. "The answer to that question is for the ears of General Nazet alone" he said, and spurred his horse. They climbed higher along the rough track, and came up onto the next ridge.

"There!" Fasilides pointed ahead. "There stands the monastery of St. Luke."

It clung to a rugged hill top. The walls were high and their harsh square outline unrelieved by ornament, column or architrave. One of the Bishop's outriders blew a blast on a ram's horn, and the single massive wooden gate swung open before them. They galloped through into the courtyard, and dismounted before the keep. Grooms ran forward to take their horses and lead them away.

"This way!" Fasilides ordered, and strode through a narrow doorway into the warren of passageways and staircases beyond. Their boots clattered on the stone paving and echoed in the corridors and smoky halls.

Abruptly they found themselves in a dark, cavernous chapel, whose domed ceiling was lost in the gloom high overhead. Hundreds of flickering candles and the glow from suspended incense burners illuminated the hanging tapestries of saints and martyrs, the tattered ba

Fasilides knelt at the altar, on which stood a silver Coptic cross, six feet tall. Hal knelt beside him but Aboli stood behind them, his arms folded over his chest.

"God of our fathers, Lord of hosts!" the Bishop prayed, in Latin for Hal's benefit. "We give thanks for your bounty and for the mighty victory over the pagan which you have vouchsafed us. We commend this your servant, Henry Courtney, to your care. May he prosper in the service of the one true God, and may his arms prevail against the unbelievers."

Hal had barely time to complete his genuflections and his amens before the Bishop was up and away again, leading him to a smaller shrine off the nave.

"Wait here!" he said. He went directly to the vividly coloured woollen wall-hanging behind the smaller altar and drew it aside to reveal a low, narrow doorway. Then he stooped through the opening and disappeared.

When Hal looked around the shrine, he saw that it was more richly furnished than the bleak, gloomy chapel. The small altar was covered with foil of yellow metal that might have been brass but which shone like pure gold in the candle-light. The cross was decorated with large coloured stones. Perhaps these were merely glass, but it seemed to Hal that they had the lustre of emerald, ruby and diamond. The shelves that rose to the vaulted roof were loaded with offerings from wealthy and noble penitents and supplicants. Some must have stood untouched for centuries for they were thickly coated with dust and cobwebs so that their true nature was hidden. Five monks in grubby, ragged habits knelt at prayer before the statue of a black-featured Virgin Mary with a little black Jesus in her arms. They did not look up from their devotions at his intrusion.

Hal and Aboli stood together, leaning against a stone column at the back of the shrine, and time stretched out. The air was heavy and oppressive with incense and antiquity. The soft chanting of the monks was hypnotic. Hal felt sleep coming over him in waves and it was an effort to fight it off and keep his eyes from closing.

Suddenly there came the patter of ru

He saw Hal, ran to where he stood and stopped in front of him. He stared at Hal with such solemnity that Hal was enchanted by the pretty elf, and went down on one knee so that they could study each other at the same level.

The boy said something in the language that Hal could now recognize as Geez. It was obviously a request but Hal could not even guess at the substance of it. "You too!" Hal laughed, but the child was serious and asked the question again. Hal shrugged, and the boy stamped his foot and asked the third time.

"Yes!" Hal nodded vigorously. The boy laughed delightedly and clapped his hands. Hal straightened up but the child opened his arms and gave a command that could mean only one thing. "You want to be picked up?" Hal stooped and gathered him in his arms where the boy stared into his eyes then spoke again, pointing so passionately at Hal's face that he almost impaled one eye with his little finger.

"I ca

Fasilides had come up silently behind him and now said solemnly, "His Most Christian Majesty, Iyasu, King of Kings, Ruler of Galla and Amhara, Defender of the Faith of Christ Crucified, remarks that your eyes are of a strange green colour unlike any he has seen before."

Hal stared into the angelic features of the imp he held in his arms. "This is the Prester John?" he asked in awe. "Indeed," replied the bishop. "You have also promised to take him for a sail on your tall ship, which I have described to him."

"Would you inform the Emperor that I would be deeply honoured to have him as a guest aboard the Golden Bough?" Suddenly Iyasu wriggled down from Hal's arms, seized his hand and dragged him towards the concealed doorway. Beyond the opening they went down a long passageway lit with torches in iron brackets on the stone walls. At the end of the passage were two armed guards, but the Emperor squeaked an order and they stood aside and saluted His tiny Majesty. Iyasu led Hal into a long chamber.