Lion Quest by Mel Eldridge

Author:Mel Eldridge [Eldridge, Mel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
Published: 2021-08-18T00:00:00+00:00

Loretta sat up rigid, wide awake. The open wagon door let in the light of a new day. Robert, Martha and Tom sat in a line in front of her, a concerned look in their eyes.

“Is there a problem?”

“Depends what you mean by a problem?” Robert replied.

“Don’t talk in riddles.”

“Look at the walls,” Tom said.

Words mixed with strange symbols were chalked in each available space on the wooden slatted walls of the goods wagon. The same phrase was repeated over and over, followed by signs for running water, forests and mountains, “Past the mountains, into the green, the Stilts will assist, so be keen.”

“How did it get there?” Loretta said.

Robert said, “In a trance, you stood up with a piece of chalk from your pocket to make those marks.”

“Any idea what it means?” Tom said.

Loretta looked into Martha’s eyes, a long, piercing stare. “Does Stilts mean a tribe?”

Martha roared, then said, “I have never met the Stilts but have heard their name.”

As the morning drifted into the afternoon the landscape began to change. Desert sand began to be replaced by lush, green flatlands that flowed into thick, green forest where the train slowed then came to a stop outside Adooba. With Martha at her side, Loretta jumped from the goods wagon. On the other side of the train men shouted, steam hissed from under the engine as water filled the boiler. The giant black engine hissed a jet of steam as Loretta, with Martha, walked past.

The small market town of Adooba consisted of a single main dirt street lined with market stalls piled high with fruits or vegetables of all colours. Men, women and children in traditional Arab dress kept their distance from Martha. The oppressive heat made Loretta dizzy as she strolled by displays of flatbreads then stalls of strange, hard cakes. Her stomach gurgled at the sight of the food. In a side street rolls of carpet leant against the corner of a rickety shack made from a collection of tin sheets. The carpets seemed to keep the shop from collapse. Some dangled like bedsheets from a rail beside the door. Loretta hoped this was the shop owned by Amir, the brother of Shariff.

Inside the shop was dark, with a thick smell of fresh, strong coffee in the air. A carpet covered the dirt floor with rolls leant against the walls.

Loretta called out, “Is anyone there?”

A voice from the hidden area at the rear of the shop said, “Just a moment. Will you take a coffee?”

“No, thanks.”

Martha sat beside the door while Loretta ran her hands through the tassels of the carpets.

“Can I be of service?” a voice said.

Behind her stood a short man dressed in a white Arab headdress with an ankle-length white kaftan.

“I seek Amir, the brother of Shariff.”

“You are Loretta. What is it you need?”

“Do you know a tribe called the Stilts?”

“This is a name I’ve not heard for a long time. At night around the desert campfire my father mentioned the Stilts, who live far away from civilisation.

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