Origins (24 page)

“Damn this battle between the gods,” she uttered beneath her breath.  “Can’t they carry on this fight of theirs up in the heavens rather than bringing it down here and dragging us into the middle of it?”

Chapter 35:  Holy Cow

Under the watchful
eye of two armed guards, four men slowly stalked toward a large bull that stood alone in a field.  The animal was huge.  On all four legs it stood a head taller than a man, and the long, thick horns atop its head were not to be taken lightly.  They stuck out two feet in front of the bull’s head and came to sharp, menacing points that meant business.  Normally, the creatures were docile and made perfect beasts of burden to help plow fields, but the absence of food and fresh water for several days now made them . . . moody.

Hastelloy cringed as he heard a dry twig snap causing the bull to raise its head and jump back half a step.  The beast didn’t move any farther, but its senses were now focused on the animal’s surroundings and took notice of the four men inching their way closer from the front, back, and both sides.

The captain took his eyes off the target to exchange a look with Valnor and shook his head from side to side in disbelief.  The land was completely barren, yet the young man somehow found the one twig to step on and startle their prey.

Tonwen suddenly held his right arm up in the air with a clinched fist.  The others stopped immediately and looked to the science officer for further instruction.  Tonwen was within five feet of the bull and could make his assessment. 

The other crewmen waited anxiously, hoping this would be the one.  They’d gone through the same process three different times and each bull so far had diseased boils on their flesh and therefore were not fit for consumption.  The men were beginning to lose patience.

As time inched by, Hastelloy mentally resigned to seeing Tonwen slowly open his fist, signaling the men to back away.  He felt his body weight shift backwards in preparation to leave when Tonwen raised his index finger and pointed twice at the target.  Hastelloy’s heart skipped a beat with excitement; the hunt was a go.

Tonwen raised his fingers. Go in four . . . three . . . two . . . one.

In unison the four men carrying spears rushed the animal.  Three men hit the mighty beast dead center in the body and buried their spears deep, but Gallono wasn’t able to connect.  He had the misfortune of the bull turning to face off against him.  Gallono instantly realized the danger, dropped his spear and grabbed hold of the bull’s horns instead.

When the three spears struck, the raw power of the animal went on full display.  Enraged by the pain, it snapped its head up and backwards.  The sudden motion yanked Gallono clean off his feet.  For a moment Hastelloy thought his first officer was going to hold a handstand above the animal’s head while hanging onto the horns until his right hand lost its grip. 

Gallono twisted his body as he rotated down and landed with his right arm over the bull’s neck.  When his feet touched ground again he instantly released his left hand from the horn and brought it under the bull’s neck, interlocked his arms and held on for dear life. 

If the situation weren’t so dangerous, Hastelloy would have laughed at how utterly ridiculous the sight of Gallono holding 2,000 pounds of pissed off bull in a headlock really looked.  For its part, the animal clearly didn’t find the situation amusing.  It leapt; it kicked, and it twirled around in a tight spin that made Hastelloy want to vomit just from watching. 

Suddenly the bull lost its footing and fell onto its side, causing the two spears imbedded on that half of its body to drive all the way through.  One of them must have pierced the animal’s heart because the mighty beast let out one last bellow and then dropped its head on top of Gallono’s torso and moved no more.  Hastelloy, Valnor and Tonwen kept their distance and simply looked upon the scene in stunned disbelief.  Time stood silently still as they waited for any sign of life from Gallono.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just fine with this thing on top of me.  Not like its heavy or anything,” a muffled voice cried out from under the animal’s head.

The three men quickly ran to help.  Hastelloy and Valnor each grabbed a horn to lift the head while Tonwen grabbed Gallono by his wrists and dragged him out from under the beast’s remarkably heavy head.

Once Gallono was on his feet again, he dusted himself off and said what was on everyone’s mind, “Holy cow!”

“It is a bull actually,” Tonwen deadpanned back, “but it does have holes in it now.”

“They should make a sport out of that some day,” Gallono said with a relieved chuckle.

Hastelloy was not one to linger on the past so he pressed the men forward with their work.  “Tonwen, what’s the prognosis with this one?  I certainly hope you ordered the kill with good reason.  Otherwise I see Gallono growing very grumpy in the near future.”

Tonwen took a few minutes to look over every square inch of the bull’s pelt just to be sure.  Finally he let out a relieved sigh.  “I do believe we got one of the last healthy heads of cattle in the city.  There is no evidence of the diseased sores anywhere.  He was certainly one of the biggest and strongest cattle, so it must have been able to guard the last bits of water in the trough for itself and fend off the others.”

“Survival of the fittest,” Hastelloy commented.  “It’s the natural order of things.”

“You just watch, when we get back to camp our reward for a successful hunt will be our very own bowl full of the same tasteless mush,” Gallono sneered.  “We risk our lives so the ruling class can eat a fine steak dinner while we eat glorified dirt.  That’s also the natural order of things.”

Just then the two guards assigned to watch them on the hunting expedition moved in with their curved swords drawn.  The bald, fat one ushered the hunters away from the kill, while the anorexic looking guard signaled for ten other slaves to bring over a large four-wheeled cart.

Together, all fourteen slaves deposited the bull’s enormous frame onto the cart and were immediately on their way to the overseer’s side of the city.  Gallono spat towards the overly opulent tent that belonged to Tomal as they pulled the cart past. 

Tomal might have taken offense to the gesture if he’d been home, but he was busy erecting the last of his four gigantic obelisk monuments.  To say the tall slender objects looked intimidating was a profound understatement.  They were simply massive and appeared to almost emanate power from their very core.  The spires were a magnificent symbol of the greatness of Egypt, almost as impressive as the pyramid itself.

Hastelloy was surprised to see the cart team escorted past all of the overseer tents and eventually led into Pharaoh’s private compound.  Everything else in the city was, in some way, made of sticks with cloth over them.  Some tents were large and lavish, while others barely fit a man laying flat on his back.  Contrasting these humble shelters stood Pharaoh’s compound; made of stone and wood.

A tall, thick stone wall surrounded a well-kept courtyard that actually sported lush green grass.  It was certainly a statement of Pharaoh’s priorities that his people and cattle were dying of thirst, yet he still had a plush lawn to walk on with his bare feet.  It was truly amazing observing how quickly the aristocracy in a society could lose touch with realities the common people dealt with on a daily basis.

In the middle of the courtyard stood a somewhat humble palace; relative to the great pyramid at least.  The structure stood two stories tall and was basically square in shape with a very stout metal door forming an entrance in the middle of the wall facing the group of men.  Protruding from the square structure were two half-moon shaped balconies on the second floor that were supported by brightly painted pillars flanking the front door.  Hastelloy had certainly seen more flamboyant royal compounds in his lifetime, but considering the infancy of Pharaoh’s kingdom it was quite impressive.

The group of cart hauling slaves went to the far corner of the compound, behind a thick patch of trees to deposit their cargo at the kitchen house.  The business of butchering animals and cooking food was considered unsightly and thus hidden from view as much as possible.

The cart’s hauling crew lugged the massive bull off the cart and managed to drag the beast into the butcher shop, where Pharaoh’s personal chef quickly went to work.  The four hunters received no thank you or even an appreciative nod for that matter, they were summarily led away.  On their way out of the royal compound, they passed dozens of tables with chairs being positioned around them.

“It looks like they’re planning to throw one heck of a dinner party.  You think we’ll be invited for some steaks considering we’re the ones who risked getting impaled by two foot long horns to provide it?” Gallono asked sarcastically.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” Hastelloy answered.  “Besides, Tomal is bound to be there and the last thing we need right now is for you two to make a scene.”

“I wonder what the occasion is; you think Pharaoh has finally recovered from his illness?” Valnor asked.

Gallono pointed to a bed of pillows with a soft linen canopy providing shade set up in the far corner of the courtyard.  Two half naked slave girls fanned the occupant as he lay there groaning softly.  “I do believe the man himself is lying right over there.  Why don’t you go ask him?  Oh, and be sure to get all of us invitations to the big bash while you’re at it.”

As the group silently walked past the royal figure, Tonwen made sure to take a particularly close look at the man.  His body was covered with boils resulting from the plethora of bug bites that everyone endured over the past few days, but something was different about his affliction.  The welts looked bigger and were concentrated around his neck, armpits, and inner thighs.  Not only that, the blisters were oozing puss and blood, as evidenced by the stains on the otherwise pure white pillows.

The fat guard drew his scimitar and placed the blade under Tonwen’s throat and slowly turned his head away from the Pharaoh with the blade never losing contact with his skin.  Without any words, Tonwen got the message, ‘you are not worthy to look upon the great one.’

When the group of workers returned to the pyramid construction site, as Gallono predicted, the four men were each handed a bowl of pasty goop to consume before getting back to work.  Tonwen took the time to speak his mind.

“I do not think Pharaoh is feeling any better.  In fact, he looks to be far worse off than anyone else in the city,” Tonwen commented with concern.  “The blisters on his body are not from bug bites, I know that for certain.”

“How could you possibly know that from looking at the man for five seconds while walking past him twenty paces away?” Valnor asked skeptically.

“Bugs are not particular where they bite people to cause the boils and sores from which we all currently suffer.  Pharaoh only had blisters on his neck and armpits, which is where the lymph nodes are located in these bodies,” Tonwen instructed.  “His body is trying to fight an infection so the glands are swollen.  It looks to me like the infection is winning the fight since his blisters are beginning to burst; I am virtually certain he has been infected by something, or some god-like beings to be precise.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Gallono challenged.  “Pharaoh is their ally, why would the Alpha want him dead?  Couldn’t it just as easily be that one of these bugs is carrying a disease that transfers when it bites a person?”

“That is a possibility, but it is too much of a coincidence in my mind that Pharaoh is the only one infected to such a degree,” Tonwen countered.

Hastelloy held up his hand to administer a call for silence while he gave the matter serious thought.  He took two slow bites of food from his bowl while he debated the arguments in his head.  He let out a sigh and roll of his head to vent his anger for not seeing this situation coming. 

“Ah damn,” Hastelloy groaned.  “It makes perfect sense for the Alpha to infect Pharaoh.  He would have insisted on the Alpha fixing the river and relieving the suffering of these plagues.  Since they’re not really gods, they of course couldn’t comply so they did the next best thing.  They shut Pharaoh up and distracted his followers by making the man critically ill.”

Gallono cringed a bit as he saw where Hastelloy was heading with his analysis.  “And then Pharaoh’s illness gave them the perfect leverage to speed up the pyramid construction so it would be completed before the worst of the plagues hit.  They’d be long gone before these people finally came to the conclusion that their gods were really a couple of impotent wankers.”

“First things first.  Tonwen, what sort of disease do you think we’re dealing with here?  Could it be contagious and possibly wipe out a large portion of the population?” Hastelloy asked.

Tonwen looked at his captain in disbelief and said in all seriousness.  “How should I know?  It is not like I had my medical pack with me and took a sample of his blood or gave him an in-depth physical.  Like Valnor said, I looked at him from afar for five seconds before I nearly had my head lopped off.”

Hastelloy mentally reprimanded himself for walking straight into that comment.  His confidence was shaken by having his carefully conceived plan suddenly falling apart.  He wanted all the facts for his next decision.  Hastelloy was so focused on the problem, he neglected to give the matter any logical thought as to whether the facts were even possible to get.  Assuming his science officer could identify a disease with only a passing glance was ridiculous.  Command responsibility sometimes meant having to make decisions based on incomplete information.  Hastelloy needed to accept that reality at the moment.