Discreetly, I
opened my lips to let a dribble of spit fall. I froze. More attuned to the frequency of silence than
at any other time in my life, I listened. I hoped. I waited for the softest sound in the world, the
gentle pat of saliva on stone.
There was nothing. Either the spit had been insufficient to make enough noise or there
was nothing ahead of me but an endless drop. Either way, my life was back at three to one odds.
A bead of sweat tickled down my cheek and rested on the cleft of my chin. Another followed the
same path. I wiggled my nose. The two drops merged, dangled as one, and then fell. The next
moment, I heard the slightest tap.
That was enough for me. Best foot forward, I quickly placed myself on the third step of
the bridge. What a lengthy ordeal it seemed. In fact, it was over in just a few seconds. I often
wondered, after, what Einstein would make of that disparity--time and relativity taken to absurd
psychological extremes.
And the test was far from over.
I chewed my lower lip until the booming voice resumed.
"And where does this England lie?"
"A great distance to the east, across the ocean."
Sweating profusely, I focused on the problem at hand. Here is what I formulated to
deceive the Tongue of Deceit. Firstly, and most crucial, was the now frequent patter of sweat
hitting the step at my feet. I set about using this perspiration to hedge my bets. Without moving
my feet, I swiveled my body to the right, leaning my head over just enough to take a sounding. If
the patter ceased, snake eyes; if not, I had it made. In a different sequence of directions each time,
forward, right or left, I repeated this either once or twice. I knew that after two negatives, the only
possibilities remaining were back from where I had come, which was forbidden, or the correct
step.
Each stepping stone was traversable by a single pace. Each step landed me firmly in the
centre of the stone. It required only a small lean in any direction to position my chin over the
edge. In addition, so that each gesture would appear to be my chosen step, I either
pulled back or proceeded only at the very last moment. Anything less, I feared, would give the
game away.
Thus, my mind became a difference engine as I played out this charade. The ultimate
Blind Man's Bluff.
A step to the right.
"Why have you come to The Land?"
"To learn. We are curious to learn from this great land of which we have heard so
little."
Another step to the right.
"What do you know of the seafaring science?"
"We are well versed in the basic laws of seafaring, though few from England can sail the
seas any more. You need not fear more of us arriving, as we have traveled a near fatal distance to
reach you."
A very unsure, heart-in-mouth step backwards.
"How well do you know the stars in the sky?"
"Not well at all. The science of the stars is of little interest to me."
Though his choice of topics intrigued me, I wondered how many of these bizarre
questions the Kamachej had in store. Through his crafty mind game, he was obviously putting
together a subtle jigsaw picture of me. I took another backward step.
"How did you come to travel with a great bear from the east?"
Picturing that awful moment when Darkly first appeared, his ferocious claws having
scythed two hyenas, I smiled. The irony lifted my spirits. The bear did all that for me, and I
thought he was lining me up to be the main course. Darkly, my great protector from the east.
"He saved me from the jaws of death in the forest. Before that, I had never seen him.
Afterwards he stood by me without incentive. I will be forever in his debt."
An easy step to the left.
"What do you know of the Chamber of Skulls?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Right, don't move," warned Rodrigo, in response to a curt phrase from the Kamachej.
"Stay right where you are, Baz."
Footsteps snapped rhythmically behind me. I cursed the Kamachej. For all my brave
efforts, was this to be it? Was this Chamber of Skulls ploy a trick question, an
opened my lips to let a dribble of spit fall. I froze. More attuned to the frequency of silence than
at any other time in my life, I listened. I hoped. I waited for the softest sound in the world, the
gentle pat of saliva on stone.
There was nothing. Either the spit had been insufficient to make enough noise or there
was nothing ahead of me but an endless drop. Either way, my life was back at three to one odds.
A bead of sweat tickled down my cheek and rested on the cleft of my chin. Another followed the
same path. I wiggled my nose. The two drops merged, dangled as one, and then fell. The next
moment, I heard the slightest tap.
That was enough for me. Best foot forward, I quickly placed myself on the third step of
the bridge. What a lengthy ordeal it seemed. In fact, it was over in just a few seconds. I often
wondered, after, what Einstein would make of that disparity--time and relativity taken to absurd
psychological extremes.
And the test was far from over.
I chewed my lower lip until the booming voice resumed.
"And where does this England lie?"
"A great distance to the east, across the ocean."
Sweating profusely, I focused on the problem at hand. Here is what I formulated to
deceive the Tongue of Deceit. Firstly, and most crucial, was the now frequent patter of sweat
hitting the step at my feet. I set about using this perspiration to hedge my bets. Without moving
my feet, I swiveled my body to the right, leaning my head over just enough to take a sounding. If
the patter ceased, snake eyes; if not, I had it made. In a different sequence of directions each time,
forward, right or left, I repeated this either once or twice. I knew that after two negatives, the only
possibilities remaining were back from where I had come, which was forbidden, or the correct
step.
Each stepping stone was traversable by a single pace. Each step landed me firmly in the
centre of the stone. It required only a small lean in any direction to position my chin over the
edge. In addition, so that each gesture would appear to be my chosen step, I either
pulled back or proceeded only at the very last moment. Anything less, I feared, would give the
game away.
Thus, my mind became a difference engine as I played out this charade. The ultimate
Blind Man's Bluff.
A step to the right.
"Why have you come to The Land?"
"To learn. We are curious to learn from this great land of which we have heard so
little."
Another step to the right.
"What do you know of the seafaring science?"
"We are well versed in the basic laws of seafaring, though few from England can sail the
seas any more. You need not fear more of us arriving, as we have traveled a near fatal distance to
reach you."
A very unsure, heart-in-mouth step backwards.
"How well do you know the stars in the sky?"
"Not well at all. The science of the stars is of little interest to me."
Though his choice of topics intrigued me, I wondered how many of these bizarre
questions the Kamachej had in store. Through his crafty mind game, he was obviously putting
together a subtle jigsaw picture of me. I took another backward step.
"How did you come to travel with a great bear from the east?"
Picturing that awful moment when Darkly first appeared, his ferocious claws having
scythed two hyenas, I smiled. The irony lifted my spirits. The bear did all that for me, and I
thought he was lining me up to be the main course. Darkly, my great protector from the east.
"He saved me from the jaws of death in the forest. Before that, I had never seen him.
Afterwards he stood by me without incentive. I will be forever in his debt."
An easy step to the left.
"What do you know of the Chamber of Skulls?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Right, don't move," warned Rodrigo, in response to a curt phrase from the Kamachej.
"Stay right where you are, Baz."
Footsteps snapped rhythmically behind me. I cursed the Kamachej. For all my brave
efforts, was this to be it? Was this Chamber of Skulls ploy a trick question, an
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