Читать книгу The Mystical Swagman - Gary Blinco - Страница 8
ОглавлениеExtract from
John Greenway’s Journal
I watched the camel caravan emerge from the cold desert
night as pale fingers of silvery light fell across the land
and rolled the velvety darkness over the western horizon. The caravan left the shifting sands and moved like a giant, weaving snake between two small hills, then down the narrow road and into the sleeping village.
The village stirred slowly into life as the camels walked with their strange, easy rhythm down the single, dusty street. The leather of harness and saddles creaked softly, the metal buckles clinking a monotonous tune that beat in time with the padded camel feet thudding on the hard surface of the road. The scissoring leg motion of the beasts stirred up a fog of dust that rose and glistened in the first sunbeams until it stung the eyes of the riders. The sorcerer looked back with a paternal gaze at the small child nestled in the arms of the fat nursemaid. The boy slept peacefully, completely oblivious to his strange surroundings.
The sorcerer shifted his gaze and met my face as I smiled at him from my seat high on the largest of the camels. Then I glanced away quickly from his piercing emerald eyes, for I was afraid I would drown in the deep pools of those luminous eyes. My own skin had been burned dark brown by the desert sun, but I was still pale compared to the sorcerer and the rest of my companions. Now I saw the sorcerer look past the leading camel and down the hill, beyond the quiet streets, to the harbour that came slowly into view through the gloom. Two tall ships appeared through the darkness, their images growing out of the murky waters like developing photographs.
The sorcerer sighed with relief and again glanced nervously back the way we had come, as if expecting someone to appear over the horizon to thwart our escape, even at this late hour. It was three weeks since we had left the great oasis deep in the desert to begin our dangerous journey to the coast, to meet the tall ships and continue our flight to freedom in the new world. I sat dreamily on the swaying camel and let my mind revisit the events that had led me to this strange position. It seemed years since I had arrived in the desert in search of my own adventures, but, in reality, it was a little less than one year. I had travelled light into the desert. It was unwise to carry too many possessions for one could be robbed, perhaps murdered, for even the smallest treasures.
* * *
The sorcerer too had few possessions when I first had come upon him setting up his camp under the spreading palms near a well at the big oasis. Just a small tent, the robes he wore, and a few bits of gold and some precious stones with which to barter for food. It was obviously the first night at the oasis for both of us. I watched him from the corner of my eye as I pitched my tent a short distance from him, and after that we sat regarding each other suspiciously for several hours. Something about his manner intrigued me, but I was determined to bide my time and let him make the first move, for it seemed clear that we were both strangers in this community.
At last he must have decided that I did not look like a dangerous agent of the evil chief who was reported to rule the area, but as he approached my tent he did so cautiously. As I’d suspected, we had arrived with the same caravan; though we had not met, for the caravan had been one hundred camels long and it was forbidden to leave one’s position in the line. I explained how I had heard of this huge oasis in the middle of the desert and decided to see it for myself. “I am on my way to the new colony in the great south land,” I told him, hoping my openness would loosen his tongue. He interested me. It was lonely in the desert and I craved society, and he spoke English very well. “My wife and brother left old England on the last fleet to go on ahead and find suitable investments and a place to live,” I added, smiling at the sorcerer. He returned my smile and I was at once captured by his bright emerald eyes, eyes that gripped me until I felt I was falling into a deep, dark pool. It was with considerable effort that I was eventually able to look away through the date palms and regain control of my thoughts.
“I am not a young man as you can see,” I continued at last. “And I have travelled the world, but I still hunger for new sights and new knowledge. To my poor wife’s annoyance, I decided to take a detour on my way to the new world. I wanted to see the Far East, as this may well be my last journey before I settle in a new country to live out my latter years.
“When I heard stories of this strange desert community, I could not resist a journey here.” I smiled at him again. “It was not easy to arrange this trip, but I suppose you know about that yourself.” I offered my hand. “My name is John Greenway,” I said.
The sorcerer returned my smile, obviously glad of a friendly face and a potential companion in his lonely vigil. “I am called Brengazi,” he said. “I am what they call a sorcerer in my own land, so you should know that at once, in case you see strangeness in my ways.”
I peered at him in some surprise, but again avoided looking into his eyes. “A sorcerer?” I repeated slowly. “Wizards, witches, alchemists and black magic, that sort of thing? I thought that stuff had died out about two hundred years ago – I mean, we are into the second half of the eighteen hundreds, after all.”
The sorcerer laughed lightly. “I know,” he agreed. “And it has died out for the most part. But there are still dark corners of the world where time has stood still for centuries, and my people are of these lands. Much of the magic lies in illusion, in what we can release in the other person’s mind.
“The darker their minds and the deeper their superstitions. the easier is our task,” he grinned. “But we are moving into a more complex and modern world, my friend, and even my own country is coming into a new age. People like you who are well-travelled and educated are unlikely to fall under the spell of a sorcerer. We must therefore ply our trade in the darker corners of the earth while we are still in demand. My father feared the new age, and he was full of regret that much of his life’s work had been spent working for evil rulers. He wanted a better role for me and my children when they come, a chance to use what powers I have for good. That is why I am here in this strange land.”
I nodded, wondering what mysterious mission had led my new friend to this place, but I was reluctant to ask just yet. We sat together and talked for hours and, as we got to know one another better, we began to relax and openly share the experiences of our lives. It was then that he began to relate a fantastic story that eclipsed even my wildest thoughts of adventure. The things he told me as we sat quietly under the date palms had taken him two years to discover, but he was now nearing the end of his mission. Like his forebears, the sorcerer told me he could create the illusion of fire with a sweep of his hand, or instill images in the minds of his enemies that appeared real and frightening. As long as he could see his foes, he could create fearful monsters or waves of attacking troops with just the power of his mind; or he could conjure up desert storms, or plagues of imaginary insects, or hundreds of squirming and hissing snakes to confuse and terrify his opponents. Many of these powers had had their origins in the darkness of ancient times, when evil rulers retained sorcerers to help protect them from their enemies.
‘It was two years ago when my father sent me on this quest,’ he explained. ‘He was on his deathbed at the time, but he insisted that I go into the desert to find a mysterious white maiden who has been blessed with special healing powers. This maiden had been revealed to him by the winds and in his dreams.’ The sorcerer soon settled into his tale, and I sat in silent wonder as he spoke in his quiet way.
* * *
His father had believed that this desert flower was the woman destined to marry his son, and that any child of the union would be born with new and wonderful powers that would be greater than the sum of the parts.
Sorcerers were becoming out of date in a modern and complex world, his father had said. He wanted his son to take the powers that had often been used for dark purposes and join them with the healing powers of the white princess, and then to use those powers for good rather than evil. Already this maiden had become a legend in her own land, rising to cult status with the people. From the day she was born, however, she had incurred the wrath of her father, the chief, who had been outraged to see that she was as white of hair and pink of skin as a new-born lamb, while he was as dark and rugged as the desert night. He had his wife put to the sword at once for her suspected infidelity, and he vowed to watch the child closely to see what manner of evil she would bring. The child was denied her birthright as a princess and forced to live with the servants and slaves.
The chief had ruled his household and his people with an iron fist, routinely robbing and pillaging the desert settlements and any caravan that dared stray near his territory. With the great wealth he acquired for himself, he built a huge castle on a large and fertile oasis in the middle of the desert. The people came daily to the great castle to pay taxes or to bring gifts and offerings to the chief. Those who failed to pay their taxes were visited by soldiers who would seize their possessions or stock. If there was nothing of value to steal, the people were taken into slavery or brutally killed as a warning to others.
Shuddering, Brengazi paused for a time in his narration. At last he continued, explaining how the desert ruler liked to strip his enemies naked and then peg them out on a meat-ants’ nest. He would then watch in morbid fascination while they died in slow screaming agony as the ants stripped the flesh from their bones.
Because he did not really believe her to be his own, the chief never bothered to give the girl a name. But the desert people called her Nan – the white princess – and it was as Nan that she soon became known throughout the desert communities. As the girl grew into a beautiful young woman she began to make daily visits to one of the many wells in the oasis with the other servants, to draw water and to bathe. As word of her presence spread, the desert people began to gravitate towards the strange albino girl, believing her to have magical healing powers. Even though her father had denied her, the people accepted her as a princess who had been sent by the gods to help them. Crowds of people from far and wide would gather at the well each day for a glimpse of the girl, the very same well that I could now see in the shadows under the towering palms. The people believed that if she looked kindly upon the sick, or weak and infirm, they would soon be cured of whatever ailed them. One day a woman with leprosy had come to the well to meet the girl, pushing through the crowd and begging for help. The girl had smiled at the woman and beckoned her to come near, and then she had poured her pail of cool spring water over the woman’s sores. A month later the woman had returned to the well, her sores healed and her voice raised in praise of her benefactor.
The sorcerer had heard this story and many more as he searched for the girl, and now, at last, his quest had led him to this great oasis. Like me, he had posed as an innocent Bedouin with few real possessions or wealth; for to do otherwise would have attracted the attention of the desert chief. But for a long time no expedition had gone into this part of the world, because the desert chief was known to attack and rob any passing travellers, murdering the people and stealing their camels and goods. I nodded as I listened – for I had experienced the same problems in finding passage to this place myself. At last, however, he had found a shrewd man who enjoyed a special arrangement with the desert chief, bringing in much-needed trade supplies in safety in exchange for a share of the profits. After much bargaining, the man had agreed to take the sorcerer to the edge of the oasis. Once he left the protection of the supply caravan, however, his life would be in his own hands. It had taken him a long time to reach this point, Brengazi explained, but soon he hoped his quest would be over.
* * *
It was just after dawn when the sorcerer finished his story; and others had begun quietly to collect at the oasis, waiting as we were waiting. Then he suddenly fell quiet as Nan, the beautiful white princess we had been discussing, appeared with her entourage.
We sat in silent wonder and watched the girl draw water from the well. Her movements were gentle and delicate in the soft light of dawn. A faint glow seemed to emanate from her as she worked, and people immediately began to gravitate to her. Somehow she appeared to be able to make contact with every one of them at the same time.
Until that moment, though I had tried to conceal it, I had been listening to the sorcerer’s story with a constant look of skepticism upon my face. The whole quest appeared too clinical for me. I was a romantic at heart, I suppose, and such an orchestrated union seemed to lack something. But now as we watched the girl I could feel her power and understand a little of what Brengazi’s father had seen in his dreams. “Is she magical as well, then?” I asked.
“She probably is,” Brengazi said quietly. “But like me, I suspect her real gift is in her ability to release the power that is in people to help themselves, by giving them the gift of belief. Though the gods have vested special powers upon her as well,” he mused, watching the girl pour water from her pail over the suppurating wounds of a soldier. “I suppose that’s why my father sent me to find her and marry her.”
We sat and watched a little longer as the girl smiled and talked quietly with the others at the well until at last it was time for her to return to her duties at the castle. “I don’t know why they call her the white princess,” I said as we watched her go. “She is actually more colorless than white – like a beautiful translucent flower.” The sorcerer nodded in agreement. I could see that his heart ached with longing for the girl of his destiny.
* * *
It was several days before Brengazi found the courage to speak to the girl, but I continually urged him on until at last he spoke up. She said little at first, only saying that she had seen him watching her, and that she had wondered why it had taken him so long to speak to her. However, from that moment there seemed at once to be a form of communication between them that was beyond words. They arranged to meet secretly after dark that same day, with me standing guard as they talked for hours into the night.
They met each day after that, and the sorcerer and I gradually became the best of friends. I joined in the daily gatherings with the girl’s loyal supporters who had begun to bring gifts of food and goods. I had little else to do during this time except wait for the return of the supply caravan that would take me out of the desert; but throughout my waiting I could see their love blossoming. I wondered, however, what direction their lives would take under these strange circumstances. I knew that they could never be openly married, for their love would never receive the blessing of the desert chief.
So it was no surprise to me when they became secret lovers. Soon the girl was expecting a child. In time, as the pregnancy advanced, she was no longer able to hide her condition beneath the flowing desert robes; and a treacherous maid betrayed her to her father. I learned later that he had already seen her growing popularity with the desert people as a threat to his power, fearing she would win with kindness the loyalty he had failed to win with ruthlessness and cruelty. Yet he dared not inflame his people by appearing unkind to the girl they loved. When he discovered her union with this seemingly destitute nomad, he determined to use it as an excuse to purge himself of the girl forever.
At the same time, however, he was wary of the strange man she had met. Once he became aware of the affair, he sent agents to distant places to learn all they could of the sorcerer and from whence he had sprung. At last, after two months of searching, the agents returned and told the chief how the man who had stolen the girl’s heart was a sorcerer, one from a long dynasty of ancient mystics. They also warned the chief that the sorcerer was a powerful man who could control the wind and conjure up fire and all kinds of evil to confuse and terrify the tribespeople. The chief knew then that he had to exercise extreme caution, or he risked losing his position as ruler to the girl and her strange lover.
The agents advised the chief that it would be best to seize the sorcerer during the night as he slept with the girl in his tent by the well. They had discovered that if the sorcerer were overpowered quickly and had his eyes covered, he would be unable to use his awesome powers. Now at last the chief had a way of dealing with his unwanted daughter. He would convince his people that the girl was a witch who had betrayed them, that she consorted with evil, and the child she bore would bring suffering and peril to the desert tribes. And so he sent his agents out into the streets of the oasis and into the deep desert to spread stories of the girl’s evil union with a sorcerer from a distant land, warning that a foreign army would invade and pillage their oasis if the girl and the sorcerer were not destroyed. Once the word had spread, the chief decreed that the only hope the people had of escaping this dark invasion was for the girl, the sorcerer, and the child to be burned in a huge fire inside the grounds of his palace.
In hindsight, I wish we had learned more of these evil plans earlier. But we had very little contact outside the small group we had come to know near the well, and my friend and his new love were totally engrossed in one another.
To my shame, I always slept deeply in the desert heat; and so on the night when the chief put his diabolial plan into action, I was completely unaware of the evil that was about to transpire. It was in the dead of night when I finally awoke, too late to do anything but watch as the sorcerer was dragged away. His eyes were covered by a dark cloth to prevent him from using his powers, and his hands were bound firmly behind his back. He and the now very pregnant girl were thrown into the stone jail that stood behind the great castle: there they would remain until the child was born.
Only then did the people tell me what the ruler had decreed. Exactly one week after the child was born, it, along with its father and mother, would be thrown into the fire during a celebration put on especially for the occasion by the desert chief.
As I watched these events unfold around me, I cursed myself for my helplessness. While I excused my behaviour by rationalising that I knew little of the language, I had already been reluctant to leave Brengazi before his objectives were achieved. Now that his troubles had multipled, I knew I had to help him in any way I could.
I began planning at once. I knew the couple would be safe until the birth of the child, because the desert chief believed that the child needed to be born before it could be destroyed along with its parents. First I used all the gold in my possession and the few precious stones left in my care by the sorcerer to put together a caravan of camels and supplies to aid their escape. Despite my problems with the local language, I eventually managed to recruit from the kindly desert folk a hundred willing supporters who were outraged by the plight of their princess. At last my spies told me the child had been born, that it was a boy, and that the date of the execution had been set for one week later, on a night when there would be no moon.
On the night set for the execution I rallied my followers and mingled with the huge crowd until we could get close to the prisoners, who were being held near the towering fire. Even today I can still feel the waves of heat from that blaze and see the great flames leaping towards the dark sky and casting ghostly shadows about the palm trees; and I see anew the terrible bloodlust that had seized the crowd as they chanted and roared and pressed near the great fire.
When we felt the time was right, we attacked, quickly striking down the guards and freeing first the sorcerer. He blinked wildly in the firelight when his eyes were uncovered, the brightness momentarily blinding him, but then he then raised his arms as he stared into the eyes of the soldiers who surged forward to recapture their charges. They yelled and fell back in fear; seeing a violent desert storm sweep through the oasis and hundreds of wriggling snakes falling from the date palms. We seized the opportunity to surge forward again and seize the child.
Alas, we were too late to save the princess, who had been thrown into the fire by one of the guards before my men could reach her. She died quickly and silently in the flames as the sorcerer called out her name in hopeless despair. In the confusion that now filled the castle grounds, we gathered up the heartbroken sorcerer and the child and fled into the night. As planned, we quickly assembled behind some palm trees before breaking up into six small caravans and sneaking off into the desert in as many different directions.
After we had fled the oasis, a kindly woman who was part of our caravan and who had recently lost her own baby agreed to act as a wetnurse for the infant during the several weeks we expected to spend in the desert. My heart went out to Brengazi who mourned the loss of the woman he had loved, but at least he knew the child was safe for now and that his destiny was being realised. He often wondered what had become of the other groups who had fled the oasis, but I urged him to drive the thought from his mind. We both knew without saying that anyone caught by the soldiers of the evil chief would have been slaughtered without mercy.
* * *
At last we reached the dock, and I felt a sudden surge of fear pass through me because I knew we were still in great danger. The desert chief would not hesitate to use all of his resources to track us down in order to save face with his people. I knew I would not rest easy until we were on one of the ships and well clear of this harsh and unruly land, so I quickly set about negotiating with some traders to sell the camel caravan, dispersing the animals amongst the traders to hide any evidence of our presence from our enemy.
Brengazi had taken my advice. He would flee this dark land and come with me to the new world where he could put his powers to good use. After rewarding our supporters, I used the balance of the proceeds to buy passage on one of the tall ships for the sorcerer, the child, and myself. I also bought passage for the wetnurse, who was willing to come along to ensure the child’s survival so long as she could rejoin her people later. The tribesmen who had helped us escape swore that they would one day return to the desert, drive the evil chief from power, and avenge the loss of their princess; but I will never know if they were successful in their quest.
At dawn the next day the tall ships set sail for the new land with all four of us on board. Immediately my spirits rose as we watched the barren hills of that desert land recede into the distance. The wish of the sorcerer’s dead father had been realised in his son’s union with the white princess, and in the child who would one day grow up with the combined powers of the sorcerer and the girl. For the first time since we had met, Brengazi became very excited at the prospect of finally being able to use his powers for good purposes in new lands, and he was already making plans to travel widely as his son grew and developed his own powers. As we travelled, he asked me to record the things I had seen so far so there would be a permanent record of our adventures together; and he also begged me to care for his son if he should come to some unfortunate end himself. He wanted to be sure there would be someone available to nurture the child and tell him of his beginnings and his destiny to perform good deeds. To this I agreed.
The journey to the new world would take several months, and the tall ships frequently had to brave bad weather and high seas, as well as the constant risk of meeting hostile vessels. Three months into the journey my greatest fear was realised, when we were suddenly set upon by a huge band of pirates in three longboats. Attacking from the rear, they quickly overpowered the other ship, which had been following about half a mile behind our own. In short order, the unfortunate crewmembers who had survived were tossed overboard like rag dolls, and the ship was sailed away to wherever the pirates kept their lair. Helpless to alter the outcome, I watched this brutal attack with growing horror, while our captain jettisoned as much cargo as he dared to lighten our ship and increase her speed. However, one of the longboats did manage to catch our ship as she fled, the pirates preparing ropes and ladders with which to board; and then our captain urged his crew to prepare to fight to the death.
Brengazi waited patiently near the rail until he could make eye contact with the invading pirates. When he did, he began to conjure up images of fire and lightning and hordes of fierce sailors; and the pirates quickly fell back in fear. Sadly, during the struggle Brengazi was struck in the head by a stray round from a musket, and fell to the deck in a rapidly spreading pool of blood. Despite my frantic ministrations, he died quickly and silently right there on the deck, his hopes and dreams flowing from his body with the crimson blood that stained my hands as I cradled his head.
By then the valiant crew of the tall ship had repelled the confused pirates, and a sudden high wind gathered up the vessel and bore it quickly away from the scene of the carnage before others could reach us. Brengazi’s brave actions had saved the ship and the life of his son, and I knew as I held his dead body that I would honour my promise to him until my own death.
I spent the rest of that journey compiling this journal, as I wanted one day to be able to share the secrets I know and thus discharge my promise to his father. Brengazi had told me that the boy’s mystical powers would begin to emerge when his age reached double figures: this, he felt, would be the appropriate time to tell him of his strange beginnings and his mission in life. He had been resolute that his son should use his powers to help people in the new world, where the ancient forces of darkness and evil were not yet in play. He had also warned me that the boy should not be told anything of his history until the first sign of his mystical powers emerged, because only then would he be mature enough to develop his inherited skills for the good of all he encountered.
At last the ship arrived at the colony. There I met up with my dear wife, Ede, who had accompanied my brother to the new land earlier to seek out suitable property for investment. When I had inherited considerable wealth from my own father, we had decided to leave behind the troubled old country of England, determined to make a new and successful start in the wonderful new land across the sea that we had heard so much about. Even then I had an inexhaustible thirst for knowledge and was probably too keen for adventure, so I opted to send my wife and my younger brother on ahead with the main English convoy while I made other travel plans for myself. I decided to take a route through the ancient countries of the East in search of knowledge, as well as goods that be of use to us in the new land. Little had I known what wonderful things I would see on that journey, let alone that I would end up with a child to rear, one with a mysterious past and a fantastic future.
That child was several months of age by the time we disembarked the ship, and no longer dependent on the wetnurse who was longing to return to her own people. It was therefore arranged right there at the port that the woman would be sent back with the very next convoy to rejoin her family. Ede was eager to take care of the child, being too old to have any children of her own. When she held out her arms, the child responded at once. She admired his dark locks, smooth brown skin, and large, liquid blue eyes. “But what is the child’s name?” she asked as she held him close and stroked his cheek. “You have not told me the boy’s name.”
I confess that I was caught off guard at this point. It had not occurred to me before that the boy had not yet been named, and now both his parents were dead and could not be consulted. “His name is Brennan,” I said at last, deciding to use a combination of Brengazi, the boy’s father, and Nan, the name of the white princess. “He will bear no other name, just Brennan, and he will be known to the world from now on as our nephew.”
As I began to take charge of my affairs, I was distressed to learn that my brother had made no investments and had squandered much of my fortune in the bars and fleshpots of the new colony. I managed to overcome my anger, however, aware of my own selfishness by my going off adventuring and leaving too much responsibility with my brother and Ede. Instead, I threw myself into the exclusive control of my own business, and took up a large selection along the river on the outskirts of the colony, quickly developing a successful mixed farm. I like to think of myself as a clever and industrious man. My dear wife, though, was a simple but kind woman, and my brother was a man who preferred to enjoy the fruits of others’ labour, being reluctant to work hard himself. Neither of them were therefore ideal business partners; but I nonetheless resolved to build the best life I could for all of us here in the new country.
I also built a busy and successful trading post, buying materials, goods and produce from all over the colony. The goods we then either sold to the settlers or exported them back to the old country. We worked hard and within three short years we were quite successful and our endeavours in our adopted country were returning comfortable profits. During this time, I had taken my ‘friend’, the sorcerer’s son, as my own nephew, and my wife and I nurtured the child with all the love and attention we would have focused on our own child, had Ede been able to have children herself.
This is the end of the Journal.
