The Quest

Getachu again barked something in Amharic and the three men dropped to their hands and knees. Getachu produced a riding crop from the deep cargo pocket of his pants and moved behind the men. He said, “Colonel Gann’s riding crop.” He swung the leather crop across the prince’s buttocks and the man yelled out in pain. The soldier holding the lamp laughed.

Getachu delivered a blow to each of the other two men, who also cried out, causing the soldier to laugh louder.

Getachu put the crop away and said, “Much better than hanging or shooting. Better for me.” He came around to the front of the men and made an exaggerated bow, saying to Prince Joshua, “Forgive me, Ras. I am just a simple peasant who does not know how to show proper respect to my master.”

The soldier again laughed.

Getachu turned to Purcell and Vivian. “That will be all.”

Purcell took Vivian’s arm and they passed through the curtain and out of the tent. Vivian was shaking and Purcell put his arm around her.

As they walked toward the hospital tent, she said in a breaking voice, “Those poor men… Frank… promise me…”

“That will not happen to us.”

“He’s insane… sadistic…”

“Yes.” And he was history, getting its revenge. Purcell said, “But he’s not stupid. He knows what he can get away with and what he can’t get away with.”

Neither of them believed that, but it was all they had at the moment. Purcell thought about their ill-advised decision to leave the relative safety of the capital to find General Getachu. Henry Mercado had miscalculated the situation, and ironically Mercado had half believed the good press that General Getachu was getting in the English- and Italian-language newspapers in Addis. Purcell was angry at Mercado, and angry at himself, but anger wasn’t going to get them out of here. They needed to work on Getachu. A little flattery, a little bluster, and a lot of luck.

Vivian, however, had another thought and she said in a barely audible voice, “We will get out of here because we are supposed to find the black monastery and the Grail.” She asked him, “Do you believe that?”

“No. But you do. And I’m sure Henry does.”

“The signs are all there, Frank.”

“Right.” The signs all said Dead End. But he recalled that Henry had said that faith had kept him alive in the Gulag, so he said to Vivian, to keep her spirits up, “You may be right.”

She took his arm and they moved quickly toward the hospital tent.

Chapter 10

Purcell and Vivian entered the long hospital tent, which was badly lit by candles and oil lamps. The air was filled with the stench of blood and excrement, and with the moans and cries of the sick and wounded. A bright Coleman lamp hung in the rear, and Purcell could see three men with surgical masks standing around a table, attending to a patient.

Purcell took Vivian’s arm and they picked their way between the rows of bandaged men who lay naked on dark blankets. Huge flies landed on their faces and Vivian covered her mouth and nose with her hand as she walked, her head and eyes darting around the darkness, looking for Mercado and Gann.

Doctor Mato spotted them and pulled off his surgical mask, and he and Vivian exchanged a few sentences in Italian, then Dr. Mato returned to his patient.

Vivian said to Purcell, “Henry and Colonel Gann were taken away as soon as Doctor Mato pronounced them well enough to be moved. They are under arrest.”

“We know that. Where were they taken?”

“He says there is a campo… parata militare-a parade ground where prisoners are kept. Due east about five hundred meters.”

Purcell took her arm and led her quickly out of the tent.

A nearly full moon was rising over the eastern hills, and the quiet camp was bathed in an eerie silver glow. Red sparks rose from a hundred campfires, and the air was heavy with the smell of burning straw and dried dung.

They headed east, avoiding the clusters of men around the fires, and avoiding the scattered tents as they tried to maintain their heading across the sprawling camp. In the dark, in their shammas, they attracted no attention.

No military camp, thought Purcell, was complete without a stockade where an army’s misfits and criminals were held to await trial and punishment, and he scanned the moonlit camp for a structure in a field that could serve as a stockade, but he didn’t see anything more substantial than canvas tents.

They continued on, and Purcell spotted the other thing that was a necessity in many military camps; the thing that Getachu had mentioned to Vivian. A long line of soldiers stood smoking and joking in front of a large tent, waiting their turn.

Vivian asked, “What’s going on there?”

Purcell did not reply, and Vivian said, “Oh…”

They moved on.

Vivian was becoming concerned, and she said, “I think we missed it. Let’s ask-”

“Let’s not.”