The Amulet of Power - Mike Resnick [11]
“It’s not that simple, Lara.”
“Somehow it never is.”
“The Mahdists believe that for the Amulet to function at its most powerful—at full throttle, if you will—the possessor must believe in it totally. If you are a Jew, or a Christian, or even a traditional Moslem, you believe in other things, in God or Jesus or Mohammed, and to the extent that you believe in them, the power of the Amulet is weakened and you can be killed. That’s why Gordon couldn’t use it to defeat the Mahdi. He must have been tempted—after all, it would have worked to some extent—but he knew it was ultimately evil, and he was devout enough to turn his back on it and hide it where no one could use it.”
She considered what she had heard for a moment, then looked directly at him. “Do you believe in it?”
“I believe it exists. I believe that the Mahdi accomplished things that seem almost like magic. And I believe he was never the same after he lost possession of it.”
“Why should you say that?” asked Lara curiously. “He took Khartoum and killed Gordon, didn’t he?”
“Yes, he killed Gordon and overran Khartoum—but he outnumbered Gordon’s forces twenty-to-one, and even so, Gordon held him at bay for almost half a year. And don’t forget—he himself died just months after defeating Gordon.” He sighed wearily. “So maybe there’s something to it. But what I believe doesn’t matter. What matters is that the Mahdists believe in it, and there are thousands, maybe tens of thousands, of them.”
“And they’re all coming after us,” said Lara grimly.
Mason shook his head. “The fact of the matter is, they’re all coming after you. After all, you should have died under that rubble, and you didn’t. You may not be invulnerable, but they figure you are a lot harder to kill than a normal person. That’s proof enough to them that you have the Amulet. As for me, they assume I’m simply under your charismatic spell.” He smiled. “Which isn’t far wrong.”
“What if I just tell them I don’t have it?”
“They won’t believe you. You’re an infidel, and they believe it’s the nature of infidels to lie. Besides, you’re not totally unknown in this part of the world, Lara. They’ll assume you’ve got it, and that you plan to sell it or use it yourself.”
“You know,” she said, “a while back I found myself wondering just what I’d gotten myself into.” She grimaced again. “Of all the possibilities that occurred to me, none of them were remotely like this.”
“Well, like they say, truth is stranger than fiction,” Mason observed.
“It’s certainly deadlier,” she said.
5
It was late morning when Lara felt strong enough to emerge from her cabin. Mason argued against it for the reasons he had given her earlier, but she refused to stay in her cramped quarters any longer.
“If you’re afraid someone will spot us,” she said as she walked to the door, “you can stay here. After all, they’re looking for a couple.”
“They’re looking for a girl whose face looks like it’s been used for a punching bag,” answered Mason. “Whether you’re alone or with me, you’re not going to be able to hide those bruises.”
“Then I’ll just have to take my chances,” she said sharply. “I’ve been buried in a tomb, attacked in a hospital, shot at in a car, and now I’m in a room about the size of a broom closet. I’ve got to get some fresh air. I appreciate all your help, but I’m used to taking care of myself. I have a feeling you wouldn’t be half this solicitous if I were a man.”
“I resent that.”
“Resent it all you like,” she said. “Just don’t deny it. I want you to stop giving me orders and stop treating me as if I was a piece of rare china that might break at any instant.”
“All right,” he said unhappily. “But at least leave your guns here. They’ll stand out even more than your face.”
“I wasn’t wearing them when you took me to hospital, or when we escaped from it,” replied Lara. “Why should my guns identify me?”
“If for no other reason, they’re what I’d call an attention-getting device.” He stared at her, then shrugged. “What the hell. You’re probably the only Western woman