The Quest

'It might be another ruse of the witch.' Taita doubted his eyes, but already Meren was racing down the slope, standing high in his stirrups and yelling, his men following him. Taita and Windsmoke maintained a more sedate and dignified pace to the edge of the pool, which was lined now with men, horses and mules. The animals' heads were down and they were sucking up the green water like shadoofs, the waterwheels of the peasant farmers, as the men scooped handfuls to pour it over their own faces and down their throats.

Windsmoke sniffed the water suspiciously, then began to drink. Taita loosened her girth rope to allow her belly to expand. Like a pig's bladder, she blew up before his eyes. He left her to it, and waded out into the pool, then sat down. The tepid water reached his chin and he closed his eyes, an ecstatic smile on his face.

'Magus!' Meren called from the bank. 'This is your doing, I am sure.

You have cured the river of her foul disease. Is it not so?'

Meren's faith in him was limitless and touching. It would not do to disappoint him. Taita opened his eyes to see that a hundred men were waiting attentively for his reply. It was also prudent to build their trust in him. He smiled at Meren, then dropped his right eyelid in an enigmatic wink. Meren looked smug and the men cheered. They waded into the pool, still in sandals and shirts, and splashed sheets of water at each other, then wrestled each other's heads beneath the surface. Taita left them to their revelry and waded to the bank. By this time Windsmoke was so bloated with both water and foal that she waddled rather than walked. He took her to roll in the crisp white river sand and sat

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down. While he watched her he pondered the change in their fortunes and the miracle of the clear water that Meren had ascribed to him.

This is as far as the contamination has spread, he decided. From here southwards the river will be clear. Wasted and shrivelled, but clear.

They camped that morning in the shade of the grove.

'Magus, I plan to stay at this place until the horses are recovered. If we go on immediately we will begin to lose them,' Meren said.

Taita nodded. 'You are wise,' he said. 'I know this place well. I lived here for a full season during the great exodus. There are plants in the forest whose leaves the horses will eat. They are rich in nutrients and will put fat and condition on them within days.' And Windsmoke will soon drop her foal. It will have a better chance of survival here than out in the desert, Taita thought but did not say.

Meren was speaking animatedly: 'I saw the tracks of oryx near the pool. The men will enjoy hunting them, and be grateful for the fine meat. We can dry and smoke the rest to take with us when we ride again.'

Taita stood up. 'I will go to search out fodder for the animals.'

'I will come with you. I want to see more of this little paradise.' They wandered together among the trees and Taita pointed out edible shrubs and vines. They were desert adapted and hardened to the drought conditions. Sheltered from direct sunlight by the tall trees, they were thriving. They gathered armfuls, and took them back to camp.

Taita offered samples of the wild harvest to Windsmoke. After due consideration she nibbled one of his offerings, then nuzzled him for more.

Taita assembled a large foraging party and took the men into the forest to show them the edible plants and to harvest them. Meren took a second party, and they scouted at the edge of the forest for game. Two large antelopes were disturbed by the sound of axes and ran within easy arrow shot of the hunters.

When the warm carcasses were brought into camp to be butchered, Taita examined them carefully. The male carried stout horns, and had a dark, beautifully patterned hide. The female was hornless and more delicately built, her coat red brown and soft. 'I recognize these beasts,' he said. 'The males are aggressive when brought to bay. During the exodus one of our hunters was gored by a big buck. It severed the blood vessel in his groin and he bled to death before his companions could summon me. However, the flesh is delicious, the kidneys and liver in particular.'

While they were encamped at the pools Meren allowed his men to

return to the diurnal pattern of activity. After they had fed the horses, he set them to build a sturdy and readily defensible stockade of logs cut in the forest to accommodate the horses and themselves. They feasted that evening on antelope meat grilled on the fire, wild spinach and herbs that Taita had selected, with rounds of dhurra bread hot off the coals.

Before he retired to his mattress, Taita wandered down to the pool to study the night sky. The last vestige of the Star of Lostris had disappeared, but there were no other celestial phenomena of import. He meditated for a while, but sensed no psychic presence. Since the escape of Soe, the witch seemed to have lost contact with him.

He returned to the camp and found only the sentries still awake. In a whisper, so that he did not disturb the sleepers, he wished them a safe watch then went to his sleeping mat.

Windsmoke woke him by nuzzling his face. Sleepily he pushed away her head, but she was insistent. He sat up. 'What is it, my sweet? What ails you?' She kicked at her belly with a back foot, and gave a soft groan that alarmed him. He stood up and ran his hands over her head and neck, then down her flank. Deep in her swollen belly he felt the strong contractions of her womb. She groaned again, spread her back legs apart, raised her tail high and urinated. Then she nuzzled her flank. Taita placed one arm round her neck and led her to the far end of the stockade.

He knew how important it was to keep her quiet. If she was disturbed or alarmed the contractions might stop and delay the birth. He squatted to watch over her in the moonlight. She fretted and shifted restlessly, then lay down and rolled on to her back.

'What a clever girl,' he encouraged her. She was instinctively positioning the foal correctly for birth. She came to her feet and stood with her head down. Then her belly heaved and the waters broke. She turned and licked the grass on which the fluid had spilled. Now her tail was towards him and he saw the pale opaque bulge of the birth sac appear beneath it.

She heaved again, contracting strongly and regularly. Through the thin membrane he discerned the outline of a pair of tiny hoofs then, with each contraction, the fetlocks appeared. At last, to his relief, a little black muzzle peeped out between them. He would not be called on to perform a breech delivery.

'Bak-her.1' he applauded her. 'Well done, my darling.' He restrained the urge to go to her assistance. She was doing perfectly well on her own, the contractions regular and strong.

The foal's head popped out. 'Grey like its mother,' he whispered, with pleasure. Then, abruptly, the entire sac and the foal within it were

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ejected. As it hit the ground the placenta parted and the sac was free.

Taita was amazed. It had been the swiftest of thousands of equine births he had witnessed. Already the foal was struggling to break out of the membrane.

'Fast as a whirlwind.' Taita smiled. 'That shall be its name.' Wind smoke watched her newborn's struggles with interest. At last the membrane tore and the colt, for a colt he was, heaved himself upright and stood swaying drunkenly. He was breathing deeply from his efforts, his silvery flanks heaving.

'Good!' Taita said softly. 'Good brave boy.' Windsmoke gave her foal a hearty maternal lick of welcome that almost knocked him down again.

He staggered but recovered his balance. Then she started the process in earnest: with long firm strokes of her tongue, she scrubbed off the amniotic fluid. Then she moved to place her swollen udder within easy reach. Already the milk was dripping from her waxed teats. The colt sniffed at them, then latched on to one like a limpet. He gave furious suck, and Taita stole away. His presence was no longer needed or desirable.