The Quest

Mercado added, “Including our chance to get out of here.” He asked Gann, “Where is Prince Joshua?”

“Last I saw of him, he and six of his staff were on horseback, also heading south.”

Purcell remarked, “I hope he remembered to take his crown.”

Vivian said, “This is not funny, Frank.”

“Look at the bright side, Vivian.”

“And what is that?”

“The Gallas can’t castrate you.”

Colonel Gann interjected, “The Provisional government forces are to the north. I would advise you to try to reach their lines and show your press credentials. However, they apparently have allowed the Gallas to have some fun before the army advances. So that puts the Gallas between you and the government army.”

No one replied, and Colonel Gann continued, “But you can give it a go if you’d like.”

Vivian asked, “And will you come with us?”

“No. I’m a known advisor to the Royal Army. The government forces would probably shoot me.”

Purcell said, “So let’s all head south and catch up with the retreating Royalists.”

Colonel Gann informed them, “I’m afraid they don’t fancy me much.” He explained, “I was a strict disciplinarian. You understand?”

Purcell observed, “It seems no one likes you, Colonel.”

“I’m not here to be liked.”

Vivian said, “Well, I like you. So come with us.”

Mercado inquired, “Where are we going?”

Colonel Gann suggested, “We can follow the rear guard of the Royal Army, keeping our distance from them, and staying a few steps ahead of the advancing Gallas.”

“Between a rock and a hard place,” said Purcell.

Colonel Gann also suggested, “You three can probably join up with the Royalist rear guard… though I’m not sure they’d treat you well.” He explained, “The prince is on the run and discipline has broken down.”

“And,” Purcell reminded him, “you’re no longer in a position to enforce good order and discipline.”

“Correct.”

“Well…”

In the distance, to the north, they could hear a man scream.

Colonel Gann said, “The Gallas have arrived.”

Mercado, without a word, began moving quickly downhill toward the goat trail.

Vivian snapped a few quick pictures of the prince’s tent and the deserted camp, then she and Gann started to follow, but Purcell said, “I’ll look for water in the tent and catch up.”

Gann informed him, “We looked. There is no water.” He added, “Whiskey’s gone, too, I’m afraid.”

They caught up to Mercado and headed south, retracing the route they’d taken from the spa to Prince Joshua’s headquarters. They passed the open area where the bloated bodies lay and found the small, ravine-like goat path, then took it downhill, continuing south toward the jungle valley. Purcell noted that their tire marks had been completely obliterated by the sandal prints and bare feet of Royalist soldiers fleeing toward the jungle.

The sun was hot and bright, and the rocks radiated an intense heat. Behind them, they could hear the war cries of the Gallas, and Purcell guessed that they had reached the prince’s deserted camp.

Mercado was having difficulty breathing so they stopped to rest. Colonel Gann pulled an old Italian survey map from his pocket and studied it. Purcell lit a cigarette and studied Henry Mercado. Mercado had seemed to be in good physical shape, but his age was showing now.

Vivian was patting Mercado’s face with a handkerchief, and she said, “We need some water.”

Gann looked up from his map and replied, “There are a few mountain streams close by, but probably dry now.”

Purcell noticed that Vivian had left her bush hat in the Jeep and her cheeks were bright red.

Colonel Gann climbed out of the ravine and surveyed the terrain through his field glasses. He called softly down to his companions, “Some of the Gallas on horseback have actually gotten in front of us-between us and the rear guard of the Royal Army. In fact, they are all around us.”

Purcell climbed out of the ravine and took a look through Gann’s field glasses. Down the hill, on both sides of the ravine, he saw the mounted men picking their way carefully but skillfully down the rock-strewn slopes.

Farther up the slope, coming toward them, were more horsemen, dressed in black robes, their heads and faces swathed in black scarves. They carried scimitars, and they looked to Purcell like Death.

At the top of the hill where they’d come from, Purcell could see dust clouds that meant more horsemen.

He looked across the ravine to the west. A high, razorback ridge of rock ran up to a neighboring peak.

Purcell lowered the field glasses and pointed to the ridgeline.

Gann nodded and said, “Yes, almost impassable for horses…” He consulted his map and said, “If we can get onto that ridge, it will take us up to that peak.” He showed Purcell the map and pointed. “A descending ridge will take us to this plateau below the highlands where the government forces are dug in.” He asked Purcell, “Can you read a terrain map?”

“A little. And I can climb mountains.”

“Good. If we should become separated, just follow the ridgelines-west, then north.”