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THE full power of the sun blazed down upon Astur as she nudged her horse along the arroyo. The perspiration poured from her body as the blazing heat reflected from the white walls of the canyon and turned the narrow defile into a scorching furnace. She glanced up at the sky and knew that there were still many hours of day left and they would soon have to find shelter or collapse. Desperately, she fought the almost-overwhelming temptation to turn Mercury around and race for the entrance, now miles away, and burst out into the open where at least the slight breeze could cool her burning skin.
Inside the hood, her face felt as if it was blistering as the reflected heat blasted at her. Within her tunic and breeches, her skin was being chafed away by the coarse material already soaked on the inside with her intense perspiration. She stopped and looked at Artakhshayarsha who had given up the fight to resist and simply sat on his horse as it followed Astur's. He was the picture of abject misery. 'We must stop,' he muttered as his horse caught up with her. 'I am going to die.' 'You certainly will if we stop. We must keep going for a little longer. They may well still be following us.' 'I don't care any more. I just want to lay down and wait for the end.' Astur reached down and clutched at the reins of his horse. 'Not yet. You may be ready to die but I am not.' The sudden movement was too much for Artakhshayarsha. With hardly a sound, he slipped from his horse and crashed to the ground, the hot, yellow water trickling close to his face. Astur leapt from her own horse and knelt beside him. 'You must get up. We daren't stop here, they will find us.' 'I cannot,' he murmured softly. 'You go on. Leave me here to die.' Carefully, with her small dagger, she cut a wide strip of material from the bottom of her long tunic and used a little of the precious water they had brought to moisten it and wipe it across his forehead. The rest of the liquid she dribbled between his parched lips. As she covered his head with the damp material to keep the sun off, she heard the sound of hooves. They seemed to echo around the canyon and she found it difficult to judge the distance that they were away. Leaving the Prince on the ground, she ran to his horse and pulled the long spear from the side of his saddle. Then, ignoring the hardened salt which was burning the exposed skin of her back, she forced herself into a narrow cleft in the salt mass where she could remain hidden until they were very near. Gradually, the hoofs came closer and closer until, with a cry, the men drew to a standstill some way away and stared at the prone form of Artakhshayarsha. 'Is he dead?' asked one of his companion as Astur trembled at what she was about to attempt. 'He looks it,' replied the other and nudged his horse forward at a trot. 'But where is the boy?''I am here,' Astur said and, holding the spear by the point, swung the heavy shaft with all her strength. The soldier's expression was a picture as he recognised Astur a second before the beam smashed him full in the face and pitched him from the saddle. The other soldier hesitated and, before he could move, Astur ran towards him. He drew his sword and raised it into the air, ready to slash downwards at her. Astur reacted instinctively by screaming at the horse. Not expecting such an unusual development, the animal reared up and its rider's sword swung wide of the mark. Astur thrust upwards and the point of the spear entered his body just below the ribs. The downward movement of the horse forced the spear deep into his body and he fell sideways, dead before he crashed onto the ground. Astur turned on the balls of her feet, crouched like a wild cat, as the first man stumbled to his feet in a daze. His sword was in his hand as he stood over the prone Artakhshayarsha. She sprang at him before he could fully recover his senses and fell on top of him, her small knife in her hand. The man gasped as he hit the ground and Astur raised her arm to strike but it was not needed. She sat astride his chest and looked down at his still form, his neck at a strange angle. Gradually, reaction set in and she shuddered and cried at what she had done. A hand touched her shoulder and she whirled round, her knife at the ready. 'Don't,' said Artakhshayarsha, falling backwards in his surprise. 'I just wanted to help.' Her shoulders slumped. 'It's a bit late for that.' Carefully, he helped her to her feet and held her close until she stopped shaking. 'Come,' he said eventually as he turned towards his horse. 'We must go further before the vultures arrive and attract unwanted attention.' Astur shook her head. 'The vultures do not come here. Somehow, even the scavengers of the desert know which places to avoid.' 'We have two extra mounts,' remarked Artakhshayarsha. 'And water,' he said, shaking the dead mens' water bags. 'Collect their weapons,' said Astur suddenly. 'Put them on the spare horses. We may need them again.' 'Who needs an army?' smiled the Prince. 'When I have you?' 'I was angry,' said Astur sadly as she climbed back onto her horse. He grinned. 'You must become angry more often.' She lashed out with her tongue. 'I was not angry with them, you idiot, I was angry with you. Don't you ever fall down on me like that again.' He bowed in mock submission. 'No, your Majesty.' Astur suddenly saw the funny side of it and rode close to him. 'And, young man,' she added, pointing her index finger at him severely. 'If either of us ever comes out of this alive, don't you dare ever call me "mother".' Impossible though it might first appear, the temperature continued to rise throughout the rest of that afternoon. The white sides of the arroyo seemed to collect the heat and then concentrate it within the confined space. In time, their sluggish stream crossed others and, gradually, they found themselves in a totally alien landscape where jagged sulphur and salt pillars were interspersed with bubbling pools of yellow brine. 'We can't go on,' complained Artakhshayarsha bitterly. 'We have no idea where we are or which way to go.' 'We must go on. I would rather like to hang on to my belly for a while longer and I'm sure you would like to keep your head.' He looked over his shoulder at the empty salt waste. 'They can't still be following us, surely.' 'Don't underestimate Artabanus. He is greedy will do almost anything for power. Megabyzus is not quite as bad but he knows he dare not cross Artabanus at this stage. He will have issued very strict instructions to his men for them not to return without us.' 'And you think they know where we are?' 'They have done all along. They must have someone with them who is very good at tracking fugitives. They followed us across the mountains and the lower valley, didn't they?' Artakhshayarsha nodded. 'You are right. But when do we stop?' Astur looked up at the sun and sky and, standing up in the saddle, surveyed the scene around them. She pointed. 'When we reach those tall rocks.' 'Very well,' sighed the Prince and nudged his mount forward. The rocks were, in fact, not rocks at all but a huge outcrop of salt and sulphur which looked as if it had been forced out of the bowels of the salt-lake itself. The surface was slimy and oozing a creamy substance and the horses shied away from it with obvious terror. Artakhshayarsha dismounted and strode over to the strange formation. 'It is hot,' he said, withdrawing his hand from it quickly. 'And it trembles a little.' 'Trembles?' queried Astur, staring at it. 'I think it is alive.' Astur laughed. 'It cannot be. It is a rock.' The laughter died in her throat as the vibration increased and steam and yellow smoke began to belch forth from fissures all around them. Artakhshayarsha staggered back, coughing and rubbing his eyes and then collapsed as Astur jumped from her mount and tried to help him to his feet. 'Go,' he said. 'It is the dragon at the centre of the earth. It is angry at our coming here.' Astur had never experienced anything like it before, but the idea of a subterranean dragon did not seem logical to her as she struggled to drag her companion away from that trembling monstrosity. Instantly, everything went crazy. There was a loud explosion followed by a hiss as steam and yellow liquid burst into the air and Astur covered her ears and hardly noticed the horses as they bolted. The roaring and hissing seemed to go on forever as Astur leant over the Prince's prone form, trying to shield him from the blast and the debris which fell in small, sharp pieces around them. Now, she thought to herself, I know how Lot's wife must have felt while she was being turned into a pillar of salt. The sky was dark around them as they were showered with semi-solidified globules of matter. Gradually, the noise and vibration increased until Astur thought she could bear it no more. Then, a sudden pain came to her back and she cried out in agony. She tried to find the source of the pain as it came again and again as lumps of hot sulphur burned her skin. Huddled over Artakhshayarsha's face she tried her best to protect him with her own body as the skin was being slowly stripped from her back and arms. There was no relief, nowhere to go nor hide, as her whole world became full of darkness, noise and pain. When she thought she could take no more, it abruptly stopped and she lay, panting, across the body of her King. Astur was barely conscious of the fact that the sky was clearing. She could not move as they were coated with a fine film of substance which was solidifying over them, the salt in it still burning her skin and flesh. Her eyes were searing and her throat choked as the sun was revealed again and she then knew that nothing could save them from a slow, agonising death. | ||||
 CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX
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