The Quest: A Novel

the jungle.
    The sun was hot and bright, and the rocks radiated an intense heat. Behind them, they could hear the war cries of the Gallas, and Purcell guessed that they had reached the prince’s deserted camp.
    Mercado was having difficulty breathing so they stopped to rest. Colonel Gann pulled an old Italian survey map from his pocket and studied it. Purcell lit a cigarette and studied Henry Mercado. Mercado had seemed to be in good physical shape, but his age was showing now.
    Vivian was patting Mercado’s face with a handkerchief, and she said, “We need some water.”
    Gann looked up from his map and replied, “There are a few mountain streams close by, but probably dry now.”
    Purcell noticed that Vivian had left her bush hat in the Jeep and her cheeks were bright red.
    Colonel Gann climbed out of the ravine and surveyed the terrain through his field glasses. He called softly down to his companions, “Some of the Gallas on horseback have actually gotten in front of us—between us and the rear guard of the Royal Army. In fact, they are all around us.”
    Purcell climbed out of the ravine and took a look through Gann’s field glasses. Down the hill, on both sides of the ravine, he saw the mounted men picking their way carefully but skillfully down the rock-strewn slopes.
    Farther up the slope, coming toward them, were more horsemen, dressed in black robes, their heads and faces swathed in black scarves. They carried scimitars, and they looked to Purcell like Death.
    At the top of the hill where they’d come from, Purcell could see dust clouds that meant more horsemen.
    He looked across the ravine to the west. A high, razorback ridge of rock ran up to a neighboring peak.
    Purcell lowered the field glasses and pointed to the ridgeline.
    Gann nodded and said, “Yes, almost impassable for horses…” He consulted his map and said, “If we can get onto that ridge, it will take us up to that peak.” He showed Purcell the map and pointed. “A descending ridge will take us to this plateau below the highlands where the government forces are dug in.” He asked Purcell, “Can you read a terrain map?”
    “A little. And I can climb mountains.”
    “Good. If we should become separated, just follow the ridgelines—west, then north.”
    Purcell and Gann scrambled back into the ravine, and Purcell said, “Okay, there seems to be a route out of here, but it’s a lot of uphill.” He looked at Mercado and asked, “Can you make it, Henry?”
    Mercado nodded, but Purcell noticed he wasn’t springing to his feet. Purcell gave him a hand and pulled him up.
    Vivian asked Mercado, “Are you all right?”
    “Yes… can’t wait here for the Gallas.”
    Gann took the field glasses from Purcell and climbed up the west side of the ravine. He scanned the area, then waved everyone up.
    Purcell and Vivian helped Mercado out of the ravine, and they all crouched around the jagged boulders, looking for signs of Gallas between them and the base of the ridgeline about three hundred yards across a rock-strewn slope that was covered with chest-high brown brush.
    There were dust clouds upslope and downslope, but no visible horsemen.
    Gann led the way, followed by Vivian and Mercado, and Purcell brought up the rear, urging Mercado on. They dashed in a crouch, keeping below the brush, from boulder to boulder.
    Now and then, Purcell caught a glimpse of the Gallas and saw that some were dismounted, leading their horses, while others remained mounted. They were proceeding at a leisurely pace, like the scavengers they were, he thought, more interested in fallen men and abandoned equipment than engaging the rear guard of the prince’s army.
    Gann called for a rest among high, jagged rocks, and commented, “When the Gallas have picked the field clean, they will regroup, then decide if they are strong enough to attack the Royal Army.” He added, “They would very much like to get the prince’s crown and his head with it.”
    “Not to mention the prince’s family jewels,” said Purcell.
    On that note, Mercado rallied a bit and said, “Let’s get moving.” They covered the remainder of the three hundred yards in a few minutes and stopped at the base of the ridgeline.
    Purcell looked up the narrow ridge. It was a steep rise, comprised of large jagged red rocks, and between the rocks was more brown scrub brush.
    Gann said, “Good cover and concealment, not passable on horseback.” He asked, “Are we ready?”
    Purcell looked