The Amulet of Power - Mike Resnick [41]
Derisive murmurs erupted from the villagers at this statement. “You speak heresy, my cousin,” said Abdul in a cold voice. “Everyone knows that the spell of which you speak is a lie, a fairy tale. Only fools and children believe in it. Until now, I had not realized that you were a child, Omar. Or do you fall into the other category?”
Lara’s hands moved beneath her robes, drawing her Black Demons. But Omar simply smiled. “It is late, Abdul. Let us not say things that cannot be unsaid.”
Abdul, who had been watching Lara’s movements closely, smiled and spread his hands as if to calm his fellow villagers. “You are right, Omar. Let us not dishonor our shared blood or our shared cause. It is the Mahdists who are our true enemies.”
“You speak wisely, my cousin.”
“Go now and rest,” Abdul said. “You have traveled far and endured much. Tomorrow, we will speed you on your way.”
“It shall be as you say, Abdul,” said Omar with a respectful nod.
An hour later, Lara came instantly awake as someone entered her hut. She reached for her Black Demons, sure that the Mahdists had found her again, when a familiar voice whispered from out of the shadows: “Lara Croft! Are you awake?”
“What is it, Omar?” she asked, lowering her weapons.
“My cousin,” Omar replied. “He means to betray us. We must leave this place at once!”
Lara stood and strapped on her holsters. “I know you and Abdul disagree about the Amulet,” she said, “but I can’t believe he’d sell us out to the Mahdists!”
“Not to the Mahdists,” Omar said.
“Then who?”
“I am ashamed to say, but it is to our own people.”
“I don’t understand . . .”
“My people have been fighting the Mahdists for over a century. In that time, a fanatical group of elite assassins has emerged. Men who believe not only that the Amulet must never be found, but that it should never even be looked for. And that those who dare to search for the Amulet must be hunted down and killed.”
“And Abdul is one of them?”
“No. The members of this cult are identifiable by a single shared characteristic, which Abdul lacks. But it is clear from his words that he sympathizes with their aims.”
“What is this characteristic?” asked Lara.
“They mutilate themselves,” Omar said with distaste, “by cutting out their own tongues. And they carry poison, so that in case of capture, they can escape any torture that might compel them to reveal their secrets in writing. For these reasons, and others, they are called the Silent Ones.”
“I’ve already met these Silent Ones of yours. In fact, they’ve already tried to kill me.”
“Then you know there is no time to lose,” said Omar.
“Won’t the villagers try to stop us from leaving?” Lara asked as she and Omar moved toward the door of the hut and the moonlit landscape beyond.
“These men are not warriors,” said Omar as he led her through the darkened village. “And Abdul, though it pains me to say so about a relative, is a coward at heart. They watch us now, from behind their doors and windows, but they will not interfere.”
Gaafar and Hassam were waiting for them beyond the outskirts with what appeared to be a small herd of camels.
“Just how many camels do we need?” asked Lara.
“All of them,” said Omar. “We’ll turn them loose at midday, and they’ll find their way back here, but why give the villagers animals to ride if they decide to pursue us?”
Then they each mounted a camel and turned toward distant Khartoum. As they rode deeper into the Sudan, Lara found herself wondering if there was anyone in the whole country besides her three companions who didn’t want to kill her.
14
The midday sun beat down upon the four travelers.
Lara could almost feel the oppressive heat rising from the ground. She had donned her robes a few minutes after the sun came up, but they didn’t make her feel any cooler.
Her camel was drenched with sweat, and was using so much energy just to walk that he had none left to bleat or fight her commands. The only positive thing was that as long as they walked near the Nile they didn’t have to conserve their water, and she