Night Pilgrims by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

Author:Chelsea Quinn Yarbro [Yarbro, Chelsea Quinn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781466807716
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2013-07-30T00:00:00+00:00

6

“When you reach the foothills, you will need to have horses and asses only; you will not require camels, so I will take them, as we agreed, and I will find horses and asses for you to go on,” said Firouz as he paced around the campfire, lit equally by the fading sunset and the flames, his attenuated shadow undulating over the rippled sands as he made his way from the fire-pit to the gathering company, and back again. “I will go to Nuri and wait for those seeking to cross the desert to the south.”

Sieur Horembaud glared thunderously at their guide and translator as he heard Sandjer’min repeat in Anglo-French what Firouz had said. “Yes. Yes. We had an agreement, and it didn’t include you leaving us,” he said at last. “Now that we’re a night’s journey out from Baruta, you have decided to amend our terms?” Baruta was the market-village on the bank of the Nile between the Fourth and Fifth Cataracts where the river bent from its southwestern running current to a north-northwestern one; from Baruta, the Nile stretched up to the foothills of the jagged, green peaks of the Ethiopian Highlands. “All of you, keep your distance,” he ordered the pilgrims.

“Circumstances change,” said Firouz, unmoved by the fury in Sieur Horembaud’s eyes. “The Inundation is coming.”

“I would listen to him, Sieur Horembaud,” Sandjer’min told him when he had translated what Firouz had said.

“You knew that when we started out; so did we, for the Inundation comes every year. There is nothing new in it,” Sieur Horembaud reminded Firouz.

“Not quite every year; there are variations that are known to those who live on the rise and fall of the Nile,” said Firouz and added to Sandjer’min, “Why not tell him what the monks at the Visitation Monastery in Sese’metkra recorded in their accounts? They go back centuries, or so I’m told by Olu’we.”

“Do you think he would believe me?” Sandjer’min asked in rapid Arabic.

“He would, if Olu’we also—”

Sieur Horembaud interrupted. “What are you nattering on about?”

“Nothing to our immediate circumstances, Sieur Horembaud,” said Sandjer’min, then added to Firouz, “Tell him what he wants to know. I’ll make it intelligible to him.”

“What difference does it make?” Firouz asked petulantly.

“Tell him, or we’ll be here all night.”

Firouz sighed profoundly. “Yes, I knew the Inundation was coming, but I thought we would have three weeks more to reach the separation of the Blue and the White Nile before the water rose, and it appears that we do not; the signs are for heavy rains, and early. As it is, you may have to delay going up the Blue Nile if the Inundation is increasing to full force in the next month, and will remain so through your July. This is not a matter of negotiated terms, it is a matter of nature. The route is perilous when the waters are rising.” The guide lifted his right hand to show it was impossible for him to change the Inundation.

“And why do

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