Nelson Demille - The Quest

The trail itself was clear, and it was obvious that this was a well-used route.

Purcell said, “This could be the trail used by the villagers.”

Gann agreed. “Someone is using it on a regular basis.”

Vivian asked, “Does anyone but me think that those cats were sent by God to show us this trail?”

Purcell assured her, “Only you, Vivian.”

“Well.” She smiled. “I don’t think that either.”

But Purcell thought she did. And maybe this time she was right.

Gann said, “We will travel about twenty feet apart, but always within sight of one another. Maintain sound discipline, no smoking, and alert everyone if you hear something.”

Mercado asked, “Where are we going?”

Gann replied, “I don’t know, but we’ll make good time getting there.” He took Purcell’s map and looked at it. “Don’t see this trail.” He said, “We’ll see what we see, and we will fly by the seat of our pants.” He added, “We’re in the right area, and if we read the land correctly, I feel confident we can find at least one of the abandoned stone quarries, which may be a clue to the location of the black monastery.”

Purcell was impressed with Colonel Gann’s outdoor skills, and he asked him, “Can we live off the land? I mean if the food runs out.”

“I don’t much fancy jungle pickings, old boy.”

“Me neither.”

“Let’s make certain we can get back to Shoan before the victuals run out.” Gann informed them, “If everyone’s gone, there will be a food cache there for us.”

Purcell said, “If you’re gone, where would we find that cache?”

“You should look in the stone cisterns which are high up. This is the dry season, and they will be suitable for food storage.”

“Which cistern?”

“Don’t know, old boy. Each house has one. You’ll find the right one.”

“Couldn’t they have left the food in the palace kitchen?”

“We don’t know who will be coming around after the last person has left.” He explained, “Goats, chickens, and such will be left behind, and that draws hungry people.”

“Well, let’s hope the Gallas don’t come around.”

“More likely soldiers or partisans.” He added, “We need to be careful when we enter the village.”

Mercado asked, “How will we actually get out of here after we’ve completed our mission?”

“There is a Royalist partisan point about fifty K west of Shoan, and I can find it without a map. Been there. Chaps there will guide us to the French Somali border, as I mentioned.”

Purcell asked, “And if you’re not with us to find that place?”

“Dead, you mean?”

“Or just not feeling well.”

Gann smiled, then said seriously, “I’d advise you to walk to Gondar. You should be able to blend into the population, though it’s a bit tricky with all the Western tourists and businesspeople gone, and the soldiers everywhere. But it’s not impossible to do that.”

Purcell suggested, “We could pose as journalists.”

“There you are.”

“What do we do after we blend?”

“You should try to get to Addis by plane, or get someone with a truck to drive you over the Sudan border.” He handed the map back to Purcell and asked, “Have we covered everything?”

“We have.”

“Miss Smith? Any questions or concerns?”

“No. Let’s go.”

Gann, in military style, restated their mission objective. “We are looking for two things. One is the place where the Falashas meet the monks. We will look for signs of human presence-food waste, campfires, footprints, and all that. Our primary objective, not completely dependent on the first objective, is to find the black monastery.” He reminded them, “From Shoan, which is a few hours’ march south of here, give or take, to the meeting place is, as we know, a day’s march. From the meeting place to the monastery is, we believe, or assume, another day’s march.” He concluded, “If we find the meeting place, then we know we are a day’s march to the monastery-though we don’t know in which direction.” He added, “It’s possible, of course, that we don’t find the meeting place, but do find the monastery.” Gann looked at Purcell, Mercado, and Vivian and asked, “Is that clear?”

Purcell thought it had already been clear why they were in Ethiopia. But to be a good soldier, he said, “Clear.”

Mercado nodded.

Vivian said, “A rock, a tree, and a stream. And maybe a cluster of palms.”

Gann looked at her. “Yes, all right.” He glanced at his watch, then said, “We will let Mr. Purcell take point and I will bring up the rear.” He smiled. “Follow those cats.”

Purcell began walking up the trail. Somewhere between here and where they wanted to go lay a vast expanse of unknown. And the end of the trail was also unknown. From the unknown, through the unknown, to the unknown. Put your hand into the hand of God. It will be all right.

What started as a hopeful beginning was becoming a long day in the jungle.

The trail remained wide, but it was soon obvious that it was not the only trail; many smaller trails intersected the main one, though none had any signs of recent footprints or hoofprints, or signs of cut vegetation.

Gann stated the obvious. “There seems to be a network of trails in this area.”

Purcell had checked his compass as they moved, and they were headed generally west, but also veering south.

Mercado inquired, “What are we actually doing?”

Gann explained, “We are trail walking, following the paths of least resistance to cover as much ground as possible.”

Purcell recalled an army ranger once saying to him on patrol, “We don’t know where we are or where we’re going, but we’re making really good time.”

Gann and Purcell looked at the map to try to determine where they were, but the Italian Army maps showed no trails under the dense overhanging canopy. And with no landmarks visible on the ground, it was nearly impossible to determine their position on the map. All they had to go by was the compass and their traveling time.

Gann put his finger on the map and said, “I believe we are here.”

Purcell asked, “Where is here?”

“Where we are standing. Give or take a kilometer.”

“I’m not even sure we’re on the right map.”

“I believe we are.” He said, “All we can do is continue to run the trails.”

“Right. But I can see now that we could pass within fifty meters of the monastery and walk right by it.” Purcell added, “We can assume the monastery is not directly on a trail.”

“That is a good assumption.”

Mercado said, “I think we should have stuck to the original plan and checked out what we saw in the photographs east of the road.”

Vivian said, “No, I am convinced that Frank was right-Father Armano was headed this way to return to the black monastery.”

Mercado did not reply.

Purcell reminded Gann, “You said you thought you could find one of these stone quarries.”

“Yes, I did say that. Unfortunately, now that I’m here, I see the difficulties.” He added, “No soldier or explorer has ever had a good experience in the jungle.”

“And we’re not going to be the first.”

“We need to just push on, trust our instincts, look for a clue or two, and pray that fortune is with us.”

Vivian reminded them, “Also, we are meant to find the monastery.”

Gann said, “The good thing is that we are not restricted by time, as we would be with a military objective.” He added, “We have all the time we need.”

Purcell reminded him, “The monks may be packing their suitcases right now.”

“Yes, but the monastery is not going anywhere.”