The Amulet of Power - Mike Resnick [58]
She looked around at the photographs and exhibits. “He was quite a man, that Gordon. It’s just amazing that he could have held out for so long with no army, no artillery, hardly any food. . . .”
“He had his God,” answered Omar. “And they say his faith was as strong as the Mahdi’s.”
“He also took comfort from the knowledge that a relief column would arrive at any moment,” said Lara. “The column arrived two days after Khartoum fell, and Lord Kitchener didn’t retake the city for a dozen years.” She paused. “Of course, Gordon didn’t know that. All his information said that he had only to hold out a few more days or weeks until the column arrived. He may have lost, but it was a truly remarkable bit of soldiering.”
“He was a remarkable man. They both were. And they were both sure that they had Allah’s blessing.”
Lara sighed. “Well, I’d better see what I can glean from all this.”
She began examining each item, each photograph, with a single-minded intensity. After she’d been through the entire room twice in an hour and was starting to go through it a third time, Omar stepped forward.
“What exactly is it that you are looking for?” he asked. “Perhaps I can help.”
She shook her head. “I’m just trying to learn how his mind worked—why he did this instead of that. Did he ever feel self-doubt or fear? Did he have any respect or compassion for his enemies? When did he know for certain that he couldn’t save Khartoum, and when he finally did know it, why didn’t he at least save himself?”
“And have you discovered anything about his mental processes?”
“He was more than simply a religious man. He had such absolute certainty that whatever he did was right, that God would direct and protect him. . . .” She grimaced. “He was a great man, but he must have been hell to get along with—especially if you disagreed with him.”
Omar watched in silence for another forty-five minutes, then approached and told her it was almost time to meet Mason.
“All right,” she said. “I’m not going to learn any more here.”
“Have you any ideas?”
“All I can think of after seeing this exhibit is to examine every church that was standing in 1885. Where else would a man of such faith hide something he believed belonged to a servant of the devil?”
“They have been searched.”
“Perhaps not thoroughly enough,” said Lara. “We’ll try again. But first I have to get to the library and the Ethnographical Museum.”
They reached the main lobby and found Mason waiting for them.
“Learn anything?” he asked.
“Not really. Just that we should probably go through the churches with a fine-toothed comb.”
“I did that before I went to Edfu,” he said. “Still, it can’t hurt to do it again. Might as well be thorough.”
“Well, that’s helpful, anyway,” said Lara.
“What is?” asked Mason, puzzled. “I didn’t find it.”
“No, but you knew where to look—so you must have a list of the churches that were built before 1885 and are still standing, and where they are.”
He seemed surprised. “I’ll be damned! I hadn’t realized how valuable such a list would be. I got rid of it when I couldn’t find anything in the churches.”
“No problem. It shouldn’t be difficult to put it together again. How many churches were there?”
“Four,” said Mason.
“We can search them tomorrow or the next day,” said Lara. “For the moment, I think we ought to get over to the Ethnographical Museum and see if they have anything useful—though I have my doubts. There won’t be anything on Gordon, but they might have something on the Mahdi, and I’m still looking for a map of 1885 Khartoum.”
The three of them walked out of the museum, and were immediately joined by Hassam.
“No Mahdists?” asked Omar.
Hassam shrugged. “Here and there. None of them chose to walk past me.” He turned to Lara. “Was the museum productive?”
“Probably not,” she said. “You have to understand: We’re on an awfully old, awfully cold trail.”
“You will find it,” he said with certainty.
“I appreciate your confidence, but it may be misplaced,” said Lara. “It’s getting very