The Quest

Their first stop, after about ten minutes, was a huge gnarled tree that was mostly dead, and which Gann said was a baobab. A few paces from the tree was the shortwave radio, wrapped in plastic and covered with palm fronds.

Gann had hoped that the Royalist partisans had delivered new batteries, but the radio was still dead.

He said in a whisper, “This trail will take us to the spa. The road would be faster, but we’re more likely to come upon someone on the road-a vehicle, an army patrol, or Gallas on horseback.” He also told them, “I know some of these trails, but so do others. We need to remain silent, and we need to listen to the jungle. I will take the point, and Mr. Purcell will take the rear. If anyone hears anything, you will quickly and silently alert everyone, and point to where you’ve heard the sound. We will then take cover off the trail.” He asked, “Any questions?”

“Can I smoke?”

“No.”

They continued on, and the trail became more overgrown. They were heading generally north, paralleling the narrow road that they had driven in September. Purcell hadn’t much enjoyed driving the creepy road through the dark jungle, and he wasn’t enjoying walking through that jungle now.

The ribbon of sky above the narrow trail was getting lighter, and somewhere out there, the sun was shining.

Vivian was walking ahead of Purcell, and now and then she glanced back and gave him a smile, which he returned. It was hard to stay angry when each step could be your last, and when you were just hours or days away from the greatest religious discovery since Moses found the Ten Commandments-which, as it turned out, were in Axum, inside the Ark of the Covenant.

Purcell still didn’t believe in any of this, but he would be happy to be proven wrong.

After about an hour, Gann stopped and motioned everyone to the right side of the trail where an outcropping of black obsidian lay among the ground growth between towering trees. They sat on the rock and took a break. Gann and Purcell looked at one of the maps and estimated where they were. Gann said quietly, “The spa will be another two or three hours.”

They both studied the map and agreed that their next objective after the spa would be Prince Theodore’s fortress, which was about five or six kilometers east of the spa.

Gann said, “The map does not show a trail between the fortress and the spa, and if we can’t find one on the ground, and if there is thick underbrush between the trees, as there is here, we will have to cut a trail.” He informed them, “That could take more than a day to travel that five kilometers.”

Vivian reminded them, “Father Armano walked from the fortress to the spa, and we saw him at about ten at night.”

Gann inquired, “What time did he start from the fortress?”

Vivian replied, “I don’t know… but we have to assume he started sometime that evening… he could not have traveled far with that wound.”

Purcell reminded them, “Getachu said that his artillery bombarded Prince Theodore’s fortress-and this is probably how Father Armano got out of his cell.”

Gann nodded and said, “That would have been about seven-fifteen.” He told them, “I took note of the time, and I wondered what the idiot was shooting at, because he wasn’t shooting at me or Prince Joshua’s camp.”

So, with a little simple math, everyone agreed that Father Armano was freed from his cell-probably by a lucky artillery round-after 7:15 P.M., and he appeared at the spa about three hours later, meaning there was a good and direct trail between the fortress and the spa. All they had to do was find it.

Vivian looked at the rock they were sitting on and asked, “Could this be the rock that Father Armano mentioned?”

Gann replied, “There are many rock outcroppings in this area, and there is nothing remarkable about this one.” He suggested, “I think you should forget the rock, the tree, and the stream, which may have had some meaning to the priest, but that meaning is obscure to us.”

Vivian did not reply.

They all stood and continued on. It was becoming warmer, and more humid, and the thick, rotting vegetation gave off noxious vapors, which reminded Purcell of the jungles of Southeast Asia. There was a reason that few people lived in the lush tropical rain forests of the world; it was a hostile environment to humans, and a paradise for insects, slithering snakes, and animals with fangs and claws. In fact, he thought, the jungle sucked.

They continued on.