Prisoner of the Seraglio

Prisoner of the Seraglio

A Cordelia Delacourt Adventure

Chapter 12 The City of Gold

Sometime near dawn Cordelia fell asleep; as a result when the camp awoke she overslept. When she finally did roll out of bed she stood stupidly in the middle of the tent wondering what to do. After what she had discovered she couldn’t face sitting down to breakfast with Liz and Burton, but she knew that by now they would both be at Burton’s table waiting for her. In a minute or so Burton was bound to send someone to check on her.

Faced with the inevitable, she quickly dressed. She and Liz no longer wore the blue sailor suits they had been given on board the Adler. They had worn out long ago. Instead Burton had supplied them with clothing from his own wardrobe. It had taken a considerable amount of cutting to make any of the clothing items fit, but she and Liz had managed to make them serviceable.

Using the bowl provided, she poured water from a porcelain pitcher and splashed water on her face. Then, taking the small mirror Burton had given her, she dragged a comb through her hair, reflecting on how long it had been since she had seen her hair in ringlets. Quickly she twisted it into a tight braid, and then satisfied that she was about as presentable as she was going to get, she exited the tent and trudged toward the breakfast table.

As she had surmised Burton and Liz were already there. She tried to keep a blank face, but when Liz looked up and smiled a greeting the smile froze halfway. Burton, in the midst of rising to greet her also halted half out of his chair.

“What is it Miss Delacourt?” Burton asked. “Are you not feeling well?”

Liz said nothing, but she uncharacteristically flushed, her skin darkening under her tan. Her eyes told Cordelia that she knew she and Burton had been discovered.

“I am fine, sir,” Cordelia answered in reply to Burton’s question.

She said nothing further, but began to pick at the food set in her place. Burton also remained silent, but looked at Liz. The girl’s eyes said it all, and Burton who had already more than half finished his breakfast suddenly stood up and excused himself on the grounds that he had to attend to some minor detail with the porters.

“I am sorry, Cordelia,” Liz said as soon as Burton was out of earshot.

“What for?” Cordelia answered. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I meant to tell you,” Liz added, “but every time I started to something seemed to stop me. It’s funny; I’ve never had trouble talking about something like that before.”

“You don’t have to talk about it now,” Cordelia said. “It is none of my business.”

“But I do,” Liz insisted. “I should have told you the first time it happened. But I couldn’t perhaps because….”

“Because you thought I wanted him too,” Cordelia finished for her. She laughed somewhat ruefully. “This is silly; we’re two girls not yet out of our teens and we’re talking about being in love with a man who could be our grandfather.”

“Do you love him, Cordelia?” Liz asked. “Because if you do, then…”

Cordelia stopped Liz before she could continue. She knew what the girl was going to say. “No, Liz; you don’t have to do that. I hardly have first claim on Mr. Burton, much less the right to displace you. Besides I think my attraction to him was more due to the fact that he was the only Englishman for a thousand miles rather than anything else.”

Liz seemed relieved by Cordelia’s answer. “You know,” she said softly, “he’s the only man I’ve ever known who treated me like a lady. I can’t explain it, but it seemed only natural that I reward him.”

“I think I understand,” Cordelia answered. “But you don’t need to excuse yourself to me. You are my friend and there is nothing that I would not do for you.”

Tearfully, Liz wrapped her arms around Cordelia. As she returned the hug she thought how sad Liz’s life had been; that she automatically gave her body to the first man who had ever shown any form of politeness to her. Strangely, she felt no animosity toward Burton either. She could hardly deny that Liz was a most beautiful woman, and she certainly knew how to please a man. Burton would be most unusual not to be attracted to her.

They broke for the hug. “Come on,” she said. “We will say no more about this. Let Mr. Burton figure it out for himself. And if you wish to continue sleeping in your own tent it is entirely up to you.”

Liz smiled widely, showing clearly what had attracted Burton to her. Arm in arm they sought out the leader of the expedition.

Wisely, Burton made no effort to find out what had transpired between the two women, at least not so far as Cordelia was concerned. What he said to Liz that evening was between them only.

They remained only one day in the campground Burton had selected. The next day the expedition started its slow descent toward the Lake of the Sky. It was much easier walking downhill than up, but the pace was just as leisurely. The porters had to pick their way carefully to avoid stumbling down the steep slope. The vegetation was also thicker, large trees and thick undergrowth forcing the advance guard of the party to hack its way through in places. What had seemed a relatively easy walk from above turned out to be much more difficult in reality. Still, they made fairly good time, following an animal track down the slope toward the lake. It also appeared that the track might have been used by human beings from time to time, a fact that Cordelia commented upon.

“You are right, Miss Delacourt,” Burton replied. “We are almost certainly entering the domain of some African king or chieftain, although it appears from the overgrown state of the trail that it is used only occasionally. I expect we will learn more as we get closer to the lake.”

By now the lake could no longer be seen, screened from view by the thick forest vegetation. After the more open land they had been trekking through for the last few weeks Cordelia now felt closed in. The forest, however, was not without its wonders. Overhead, bright birds moved flitted from branch to branch and monkeys jabbered at the procession that dared to invade their domain. Cordelia spent as much time with her eyes turned upward as she did picking a way down the slope. Beside her Burton commented steadily on each new plant or animal, occasionally admitting that there was one he had never seen.

Cordelia wished that they could stop so that she could sketch a few of the plants and animals she saw, but Burton seemed to be in a bit more of a hurry than usual. He kept the procession moving steadily downward toward the lake that they could no longer see.

And then they came to a break in the trees. A rough stone ridge almost devoid of vegetation ran straight toward the lake giving them a view of the water once more. They were very close and a half hour later they stopped beside the water.

By the sun it was just a little after noon, but Burton called for the porters to set up camp. Cordelia had expected a midday break. The decision to stop for the day surprised her.

“We go no further by land, ladies,” Burton explained. “It is the other side of the lake I seek.”

“And what is there, Mr. Burton?” Cordelia asked.

Burton smiled mysteriously. “You will see, Miss Delacourt. You will see.”

Cordelia got no more out of the explorer. They camped as usual, but there was one small change; Liz now referred to Burton as “Henry.” It was a difference that emphasized her changed status with the explorer. It was also something that made Cordelia feel strangely depressed. But she knew what it was. She had forged a strong bond with Liz. Still far from home, Liz was her only companion. The thought of losing her to another, even a man like Burton, left her saddened. However, she knew also that she could never stand in the way of what made Liz happy even if she had such a power.

Burton spent the rest of the day walking through the forest, marking trees. He let the porters rest, explaining: “Tomorrow we begin building our fleet. It should take a few days and then we cross the lake.”

The “fleet” turned out to be a large number of hollowed out trees. Burton had carefully chosen trees with wood that was relatively easy to work. Even so it still took several days to create enough of them to ferry all of the supplies across the lake.

Burton had no intention of taking all the porters at once. That would have required too large a building project. The first detachment would take fifty men spread out among five canoes and a number of others loaded with the supplies. They would then return for the rest of the porters.

Burton seemed to have full confidence in the canoes he had constructed, Cordelia didn’t. But he assured her that they would do to get them to the other side of the lake. Mindful of the fact that the lake seemed to be teeming with crocodiles, but Trusting Burton’s judgment, Cordelia and Liz seated themselves in the lead canoe.

It was by Cordelia’s standards a very crude vessel, consisting of a sixty foot log that had been hollowed out to create a hull with gunwales that were about a foot above the water when loaded. To keep the craft from capsizing it had been stabilized with an outrigger. To Cordelia’s pleasant surprise it cut through the water fairly effectively, but as she crossed the lake her mind focused on Burton’s mysterious reluctance to tell either her or Liz what he expected to find.

It was, she reflected, completely the opposite of what the explorer was usually like. On every previous occasion he had delighted in explaining the wonders of Africa to her. Why was he so close-mouthed about what he expected to find on the other side of the lake? It was almost as if he feared her reaction if he told her. And yet, Burton had acted in a most gentlemanly manner. Even when he had been somewhat critical of her attitudes he had not been truly rude, just rather blunt in his assessment of her. Certainly there was nothing to be afraid of; and yet Cordelia could not quite eliminate the feeling of apprehension that remained with her as they neared the far shore.

She kept her eyes on Burton as he leaned forward in the bow of the canoe. As the canoe neared the far shore a change came over the explorer similar to the time when he had first glimpsed the Lake of the Sky. He seemed agitated, a severe departure from his usually calm demeanor. On several occasions he took out a weathered document that Cordelia supposed was the mysterious map, and glanced at it.

Cordelia followed the direction of his gaze attempting to see what Burton might be looking for, but whatever it was was still too far away. And then she saw it, almost at the same time Burton did.

A number of black objects dotted the water. Burton peered intently at them and then gave a grunt of satisfaction as first one and then another blossomed like a flower. Cordelia realized she was looking at sailing vessels hoisting their sails.

Burton turned to Cordelia and Liz. “It is as I hoped. My quest may be at an end.”

“But who are they, Mr. Burton?” Cordelia asked.

“Let us wait and see,” Burton replied, maintaining his air of mystery.

Cordelia was finding Burton’s secrecy a bit frustrating but at that moment something happened to take her mind off the explorer’s strange behaviour. A massive stone outcropping rose out of the water just a few hundred yards from the shore. But it was not the towering rock that caught Cordelia’s attention; it was what had been laboriously cut into the rock.

Looming before them was a gigantic figure of what Cordelia took to be an African warrior standing at least two hundred feet tall.

Burton turned to her and Liz, his eyes wild with excitement. “Do you see?” he cried, waving the piece of ancient parchment before them. “It is exactly as described.”

Cordelia could make nothing out of the document Burton thrust before her eyes. It was written in a language she had never before encountered. What concerned her was the fanatical zeal she saw in his face. That was something she had seen – in the face of von Jagermeister just before he had caned her. She suppressed a shudder, remembering the horror of that incident.

Burton turned his attention back to directing the canoe, ordering it to the left of the impressive rock island.

Cordelia stared at the enormous rock carving, wondering what lost civilization could have created it.

“Blimey,” Liz said in awe. “That’s summit init?”

Cordelia almost winced at Liz’s lapse back into her street accent, but she was too lost in watching where they were going to comment. They paddled past the island. Before them was the shore and a large stone pier. Many of the sailing vessels that had fled before them were tied up there, their dark-skinned crews arrayed on the dock. Looking beyond them Cordelia could make out what had been invisible from the far shore, a collection of stone buildings built in an ancient style that she did not recognize.

“So this is what Burton was looking for,” Cordelia thought. “A lost city.”

As the canoe pulled up to the pier the dark-skinned men lining it moved back fearfully. Burton seemed unperturbed. Instructing everyone to stay in the canoe he stepped onto the dock alone and spoke to the assembled masses. Cordelia could not understand a word he spoke, but the strange people he spoke to seemed to understand.

Several of them ran toward the city while the others gathered to stare. Burton turned back to the canoe. “Now we wait,” he said.

They didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later several men marched toward them. These were quite different from the collection of fishermen on the dark. They were clearly soldiers, wearing what appeared to be leather armour and carrying spears. As they moved closer Cordelia was able to pick out more detail and noted to her surprise that the spears carried by the soldiers appeared to be tipped by stone spearheads. She also saw that nowhere on their armour was there a trace of metal.

Burton stepped forward to meet the new arrivals. Again there was the exchange of pleasantries in a language she could not follow and then Burton turned to the canoe. One of the porters handed him a canvas bundle. Burton quickly untied the ropes and pulled forth a gleaming metal blade. There was an immediate murmur from the assembled masses, but Cordelia could see nothing special about it. It was a utilitarian metal blade with a wooden handle of the sort produced by the thousands in the factories of Birmingham. Burton had brought hundreds of them with him as trade goods.

It seemed to be a suitable gift, however. The man who took it handled it as if it were the most precious of metals. He bowed to Burton and then motioned toward the city. Burton nodded and turned back to the canoe.

“Bring the canoes in,” he ordered. "Unload the goods onto the dock."

In short order the remaining canoes were tied up and the porters began to unload them. Cordelia noted that the armed men Burton had brought with him were lined up along the dock in readiness, keeping a watchful eye on the crowd of strange people who stood watching them. So far, however, the dark-skinned people watching them seemed merely curious and not hostile. She hoped that nothing happened to change that. Their weapons appeared very primitive, but their very numbers frightened her.

Shortly after the last canoe was unloaded another procession came down the road from the city. This one was much larger and in the middle of it was a litter carried by eight strongly-built men. Riding in it was a regal-looking man dressed in scarlet robes and wearing a gleaming coronet upon his head. Almost certainly the man was royalty and the respect shown him by the people crowding the dock confirmed that as they all went to their knees as the litter approached.

For his part Burton remained standing and motioned that Cordelia and Liz should do the same. “Royalty do not bow to royalty, ladies.”

“But we’re not royalty,” Cordelia protested.

“Really, Miss Delacourt,” Burton replied. “Sometimes you are entirely too naïve. I am sure that the king of Aksum has no way of determining what we are. It is so much easier to negotiate when speaking as equals.”

Properly chastened, Cordelia shut her mouth, wondering what “Aksum” was, and let Burton handle the introductions.

The man in the litter was about forty years of age, and dressed in white cotton robes. He made no move to get out of the litter as Burton spoke, instead regarding them impassively. Cordelia saw that the litter was liberally ornamented with gold as were the men carrying the litter and the guards surrounding him. Interestingly, however, she saw that all of the weapons carried by the guards were Stone Age. Other than the gold there was no hint of any other metal.

Burton continued to speak, receiving the occasional reply in turn, but there was very little reaction from the king until Burton handed him another of the metal blades and then gestured toward the bundles of goods his porters had unloaded onto the dock. Suddenly the king smiled and spoke animatedly. Finally he pointed back the way he had come and Burton turned to Cordelia and Liz.

“It seems that we are welcome,” Burton said. “We’ve been invited into the city by its ruler, which is apparently a great honour. I believe that things are gong to go well.”

“But who are these people?” Cordelia asked. “What is Aksum and how is it that you speak their language.”

“I speak their language because I prepared myself for this expedition. I knew what I was looking for. It was all in the map. This is the lost city of the Abyssinians, also known as the City of Gold. I have found the source of both fame and fortune.”

Cordelia smiled her appreciation of Burton’s achievement. Now at last perhaps she would be able to return to civilization. Interesting as the wilds of Africa were, she still longed to see her father again. However, she was not home yet, and something in the back of her mind told her not to get her hopes up too high.

The procession to the city was impressive, and became more so as they advanced further. City of Gold was an apt description. The people of Aksum used the metal most liberally, in much the same way that baser metals were used in Cordelia’s world. The city glowed brilliantly in the light of the afternoon sun as light reflected off a thousand gold-plated surfaces.

“Dazzling,” Cordelia thought. “It’s incredible. Almost as fantastic as von Jagermeister’s ship.”

The king’s procession took them through the heart of the city. Even without the gleam of the gold it would have been impressive. Large colonnaded buildings lined the wide avenues. It was a style of architecture that Cordelia had never scene, resembling that of pictures she had seen of ancient Athens and Rome, but somehow different. She felt like she had gone back in time two thousand years and could not help gawking at the sights around her.

The appearance of strangers in the city created great excitement and the streets were lined with thousands of people. Most of the women were dressed in long robes that covered their bodies from head to foot. The men wore toga-like garments that left one shoulder bare and extended to their feet. Cordelia wondered what they thought of her and Liz. By comparison she and Liz were dressed rather immodestly; the clothes Burton had given them being much more suitable for a man than two young ladies.

They followed the king to the centre of the city. Before them was a building that rivaled the largest and grandest structure in London. They entered it by means of a magnificent marble staircase and found themselves in a gigantic hall. On either side rows of massive marble pillars supported a ceiling that was eighty feet over their heads. Cleverly designed openings allowed light to pour into the huge room reflecting off large sheets of beaten gold that acted as mirrors and filled the entire hall with a golden light. The effect was overwhelmingly beautiful and awe-inspiring.

The king was carried to a raised dais where he seated himself upon his throne. He gestured toward his guests and Burton, accompanied by Cordelia and Liz strode, slowly toward him. “Remember,” Burton instructed, “we are royalty. Act as if you expect to be treated as such.”

“What happens now?” whispered Cordelia.

“Now,” Burton responded, “we negotiate.”

“Negotiate?” Cordelia wondered. “For what?”

For a few seconds no one spoke. The king’s eyes swept over them, fixing first on Cordelia and then on Liz with an intensity that made Cordelia nervous. She had seen that look far too often in the last few months. She fervently hoped that Burton knew what he was doing, especially since his bodyguard had not accompanied him into the palace.

As if reading her mind, Burton spoke. “Don’t worry. Ahmed has orders to break into the palace if I do not communicate with him in an hour. I doubt that the Aksumi have anything that can match our firepower.”

Cordelia relaxed a bit. It seemed that Burton had thought of everything. And then the king began to speak.

Cordelia could follow nothing of the conversation, but a good deal of it seemed to focus on the steel implement that Burton had presented to the king. The king continually held it up and motioned to it. From time to time the king also consulted with several men who stood next to him. Cordelia assumed these were the court advisors. These small breaks gave her the change to talk to Burton.

“What is happening, Mr. Burton? You say you are negotiating, but negotiating about what?”

“The gold of course,” Burton replied. “The Aksumi have so much of it that they use it the same way that we use lead. However, they lack iron and as a result implements and weapons of steel are incredibly valuable to them. I intend to trade the iron trade goods I have brought for a fortune in gold.”

Cordelia tried hard to conceal her dismay. What had happened to Burton’s boast that he carried out his explorations simply for the advancement of human knowledge? Was he little than a common trader seeking only to increase the size of his bank account? She held her tongue only with difficulty as the king spoke again.

Whatever he said appeared not to agree with Burton. The explorer’s eyes narrowed and the tone of his voice held a hint of anger. However, the king seemed not to mind, he continued to speak and then he did something that sent chills through Cordelia. He looked directly at her and motioned toward her with his hand.

Burton shook his head vehemently. It was suddenly very obvious to Cordelia that the negotiations were not going well and then the king smiled. He said something more and waited. For more than a minute Burton said nothing. Cordelia saw that his head was beaded with perspiration as if he was engaged in vigorous physical activity, and then he inclined his head in a motion of consent.

Slowly he turned to Cordelia and Liz. There was something in his eyes that told her right away that she was not going to like what he was about to say.

“What is going on, Mr. Burton?” she asked nervously. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I am sorry, Miss Delacourt, but negotiations did not quite go as planned.”

“What have you done?” Cordelia demanded. “What sort of deal did you make?”

“The king is most desirous of obtaining iron goods in exchange for gold, but he also wanted something else as well. I am afraid that something else includes you and Liz.”

“Bloody hell,” said Liz, speaking for the first time. “The bastard’s sold us. And to think I let him…”

Cordelia suddenly felt sick. She tried to speak but the words caught in her throat. When she could finally choke out a reply her voice was barely audible. “You can’t be serious. You traded two white women to a black king for a few pieces of gold?”

“Oh no, Miss Delacourt. I trade you for a great deal of gold. Much more gold than I had imagined. And as for trading you to an African, consider it an honour. The king was most disappointed to learn that neither you nor Miss Brown still possessed your virtue. But he decided to overlook that defect.”

“Defect?” Cordelia gasped. Her head was swimming and her legs had turned to rubber. “But I was forced…” She stopped speaking realizing that nothing she said was going to have any affect. The sense of betrayal was overwhelming. For a few weeks she had thought herself safe and now she had been sold into sexual bondage by a man she thought she could trust.

“You can’t do this,” Cordelia panted, near beside herself from shock and fear. “How could you betray two of your own countrywomen for the sake of gold? Have you no sense of honour?”

“Come, Miss Delacourt. You can hardly expect me to ignore the work of a lifetime just to make you happy.” Burton spoke calmly, but the face he turned toward her was of a man whose fanatical quest had driven him to the edge of madness.

“I should point out, Miss Delacourt,” Burton continued, as if he were giving a university lecture, “that you and Miss Brown are being accorded a great honour. It is not every woman who has a chance to become the wife of a king. You should also remember that when I rescued you and Miss Brown, you were living in a mud hut. Surely this palace is an improvement.”

Cordelia’s legs buckled. Vaguely she could hear Liz giving Burton a piece of her mind, and then black spots coalesced before her eyes and she fainted.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER WIZARD'S LAIR MAIN PAGE L'ESPION'S STORY PAGE NEXT CHAPTER