The Quest

“For now. The name of this village is Shoan.” He suggested, “If you’re not being shot or chained up today, you should give it a try tonight.”

“I was hoping for a helicopter ride to Addis this morning.”

“And I hope you are having a whiskey for me tonight in Addis. But you should have an alternate plan.”

“Right.”

“And if you should ever find yourself in Shoan, tonight or some other time, they will know a thing or two about the black monastery.” He looked at Purcell. “If you are still interested in that.”

Purcell had the feeling he’d stepped into Tolkien’s Middle-Earth. The mysterious dying priest, the surreal Roman ruin, the fortress city of Gondar, the good Prince Joshua, the evil General Getachu, Sir Edmund Gann, and the black monastery. And the Holy Grail, of course. And now the village of the Falashas. None of this seemed possible or real-but it was. Except for the Grail.

Purcell looked at Gann. “Thanks.” He felt he needed to tell Gann about his former employer, Prince Joshua, so he did, sparing no detail.

Gann listened without comment, and Purcell could see he was more angry than he was frightened that this could also be his fate. When Purcell had finished, Gann said, “Bloody bastard.”

“He’s insane.”

“Yes, but I’m sure you can convince him that a British soldier rates a firing squad, or at least a quick bullet in the head.”

“I’ll try to do better than that.” He reminded Gann, and himself, “I’m not sure what Getachu has planned for any of us.”

“He’s treading lightly with you and Miss Smith, or you’d be hanging on these posts.”

“Good thought.”

“Getachu may be insane, but he’s not reckless enough to endanger his own position with the Derg.” He explained, “They’d like nothing better than to find an excuse to summon him to Addis, and General Andom would be glad to arrest his rival and have him shot.”

“That’s good.”

“Or strangled.”

“Even better.”

“The Revolution,” said Colonel Gann, “eats its own.”

“It always does.”

“I predict that Getachu will put you and Miss Smith on a helicopter to Addis.”

“And Mercado?”

“Getachu will send him off to Addis to be dealt with at a higher level. Probably get expelled.” He added, “They’re not shooting Western reporters yet.”

“Good. Well, you seem to know these people.” He informed Colonel Gann, “Getachu hinted that he may want you to train and advise his officers.”

“That will not happen.”

“Don’t turn down that job.”

Gann did not reply, and Purcell pointed out, “The war is almost over. You won’t be helping him much.”

“I won’t be helping him at all.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“I’ve asked a favor of you. Please do it.”

“Do it yourself.” He made eye contact with Gann and said, “Look, Colonel, I’m trying to save your life, and you’re not helping. Don’t take the knight thing too seriously.”

Gann didn’t reply, but he looked past Purcell and said, “I think it’s time to go.”

Purcell turned around and saw that Mercado was on his feet without help from the soldiers, and Vivian had awoken and was trying to minister to her lover, who was having none of it-which seemed to confuse the soldiers who’d missed the reason for Mercado’s bad behavior toward the lady.

Purcell looked up at the dead Ethiopian, who seemed almost Christlike hanging there with his flesh torn. It occurred to Purcell that the new Ethiopia didn’t look much different than the old Ethiopia.

Purcell turned to the rising sun above the eastern mountains, then to the large open field shrouded in morning mist. God did a good job with the heaven and the earth. Not so good with the people.

The squad leader formed everyone up in a line of march and barked something in Amharic, then shouted, “Avanti!”

Forward.

Chapter 12

General Getachu sat at his camp desk in his headquarters tent, speaking to an aide in Amharic and ignoring his four guests who were sitting facing him.

Mercado sat on the far right, and Vivian had taken the chair next to him, though Mercado was pointedly ignoring her. Gann had sat himself between Vivian and Purcell, and behind them was a soldier armed with an AK-47 automatic rifle.

Purcell was surprised that Getachu had included Gann in this meeting, but possibly this was a summary court-martial, with the general acting as judge and jury, and the soldier as instant executioner.

The tent was not as dark as it had been at night, and the morning sun shone through mosquito net windows, revealing a dirt floor strewn with cigarette butts. Getachu took a call on his field phone, and spoke as he signed papers for his aide. A busy executive, thought Purcell, but there’s always time for fun and sport.

On that subject, Purcell saw that neither Prince Joshua nor his two officers were present, and Purcell wondered if Getachu had sent his royal highness to the women’s tent.

The aide left and Getachu looked at Gann and asked, “Do you know that your prince is here?”

Gann did not reply, and Getachu seemed angry at the insolence.

Purcell volunteered, “I informed him.”