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Authors: Philip Caveney
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hung to his shoulders and around his skinny neck was an assortment of beads and charms, worn one on top of the other as though he had acquired more and more of them over the years.
'Please be seated,' he said, indicating a rug laid out beside the fire. He watched in silence as the visitors settled themselves down. Then he gave them a gap-toothed grin.
'You are welcome to my home,' he croaked. 'Keera has told me much about you, but this is the first time I have seen you for myself. My legs are not good these days – I seldom leave the hut.' He looked at Sebastian – 'You are the Chosen One who seeks the lost city' – then pointed a bony finger at Cornelius – 'Obviously you are the little warrior who fights like twenty men.' His gaze shifted to the doorway. 'And this must be the magical talking buffalope.' He smiled at Keera. 'You described them well,' he said.
'Well, he's certainly got the measure of us,' said Max; and Joseph gave a wheezy gasp of delight. He looked at the girl beside the fire. 'You were right, Salah, he does sound like he has the intelligence of a man!'
Max looked affronted. 'Judging by some of the people I've met,' he said, 'that's not saying very much!'
Joseph cackled again, as though this was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. 'Do you hear him? The brute clearly has quite an opinion of himself.'
' Brute? ' echoed Max. 'Well, really!'
Sebastian spoke in a hasty attempt to defuse any argument. 'Thank you for taking the time to speak to us,' he said. 'You clearly know quite a bit about us.'
'Oh, Salah here brings me all the news of the village,' said Joseph. The girl grinned self-consciously and stirred the brew with a length of stick. 'She's my niece. Her parents both died in a Gograth raid some time ago and she hasn't uttered a single word since that day. I'm afraid I'm all she has left in the world.'
Sebastian was about to ask how Salah could tell Joseph any news if she couldn't speak, but at that moment she turned to the old man and made some swift gestures with her hands.
Joseph nodded. 'She asks if you would like to partake of a cup of chai,' he said.
'We'd be delighted,' said Sebastian.
Salah nodded and began to ladle dark-green liquid from the cooking pot into clay cups, which she handed round to everybody.
'I drink ten cups every day,' said Joseph. 'That's why I've lived to be as old as I am.'
Max looked hopefully at the others. 'Couldn't I have a little drop?' he asked pitifully. 'I'm parched.'
'You know the effect it has on you,' warned Cornelius.
'Yes, but my back end's not even in the hut. And I need something to take away the taste of that medicine. Surely it can't do any harm?'
Salah looked enquiringly at her uncle and the old man smiled and nodded.
'Pour the beast a hot sup,' he told her. 'Since he seems to think he's the equal of any man, we'll see what he thinks of our chai.'
Salah took a bowl to the doorway, set it down reverently in front of Max as though he were some kind of sacred cow, then backed away. He fell to, making loud slurping noises as he drank.
'That's very good,' he observed, between slurps. 'Quite the nicest I've tasted.'
Joseph laughed. 'I never dreamed I would live to see the day when a buffalope congratulated me on my chai,' he observed. 'What a world we live in!' He settled himself back against his cushions and studied Sebastian and Cornelius with interest. 'So . . . you wish to know about the lost city of Mendip?'
'Yes, please,' said Cornelius. 'We have been sent here to find it – and Keera tells us that you have actually been there.'
'That's true enough,' Joseph said, 'though it was many, many summers ago. I was but a boy then, not much older than Salah. My father used to tell me stories about the place, but I never dreamed that there was any truth in them. Then, one day . . . I went out on a hunt with some of the warriors of the village.'
'Yes, but which village?'
'Please be seated,' he said, indicating a rug laid out beside the fire. He watched in silence as the visitors settled themselves down. Then he gave them a gap-toothed grin.
'You are welcome to my home,' he croaked. 'Keera has told me much about you, but this is the first time I have seen you for myself. My legs are not good these days – I seldom leave the hut.' He looked at Sebastian – 'You are the Chosen One who seeks the lost city' – then pointed a bony finger at Cornelius – 'Obviously you are the little warrior who fights like twenty men.' His gaze shifted to the doorway. 'And this must be the magical talking buffalope.' He smiled at Keera. 'You described them well,' he said.
'Well, he's certainly got the measure of us,' said Max; and Joseph gave a wheezy gasp of delight. He looked at the girl beside the fire. 'You were right, Salah, he does sound like he has the intelligence of a man!'
Max looked affronted. 'Judging by some of the people I've met,' he said, 'that's not saying very much!'
Joseph cackled again, as though this was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. 'Do you hear him? The brute clearly has quite an opinion of himself.'
' Brute? ' echoed Max. 'Well, really!'
Sebastian spoke in a hasty attempt to defuse any argument. 'Thank you for taking the time to speak to us,' he said. 'You clearly know quite a bit about us.'
'Oh, Salah here brings me all the news of the village,' said Joseph. The girl grinned self-consciously and stirred the brew with a length of stick. 'She's my niece. Her parents both died in a Gograth raid some time ago and she hasn't uttered a single word since that day. I'm afraid I'm all she has left in the world.'
Sebastian was about to ask how Salah could tell Joseph any news if she couldn't speak, but at that moment she turned to the old man and made some swift gestures with her hands.
Joseph nodded. 'She asks if you would like to partake of a cup of chai,' he said.
'We'd be delighted,' said Sebastian.
Salah nodded and began to ladle dark-green liquid from the cooking pot into clay cups, which she handed round to everybody.
'I drink ten cups every day,' said Joseph. 'That's why I've lived to be as old as I am.'
Max looked hopefully at the others. 'Couldn't I have a little drop?' he asked pitifully. 'I'm parched.'
'You know the effect it has on you,' warned Cornelius.
'Yes, but my back end's not even in the hut. And I need something to take away the taste of that medicine. Surely it can't do any harm?'
Salah looked enquiringly at her uncle and the old man smiled and nodded.
'Pour the beast a hot sup,' he told her. 'Since he seems to think he's the equal of any man, we'll see what he thinks of our chai.'
Salah took a bowl to the doorway, set it down reverently in front of Max as though he were some kind of sacred cow, then backed away. He fell to, making loud slurping noises as he drank.
'That's very good,' he observed, between slurps. 'Quite the nicest I've tasted.'
Joseph laughed. 'I never dreamed I would live to see the day when a buffalope congratulated me on my chai,' he observed. 'What a world we live in!' He settled himself back against his cushions and studied Sebastian and Cornelius with interest. 'So . . . you wish to know about the lost city of Mendip?'
'Yes, please,' said Cornelius. 'We have been sent here to find it – and Keera tells us that you have actually been there.'
'That's true enough,' Joseph said, 'though it was many, many summers ago. I was but a boy then, not much older than Salah. My father used to tell me stories about the place, but I never dreamed that there was any truth in them. Then, one day . . . I went out on a hunt with some of the warriors of the village.'
'Yes, but which village?'
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