Two months after their departure from Egypt, the Judeancolumn was halted in a large wadi, near a small water hole. Food was scarce and, given that the slaves had started the journey half-starved, the rumble of discontent was as loud as that of the empty stomachs. To the south and east they could see several tall peaks towering into the sky. All around lay desolate desert.
“It is time for us to get back to our ship,” Gwalcmai said. He had a cloth wrapped around his face to protect it from the light mist of blowing sand. They both wore white robes cinched about their waists with cord. They were on the east side of the wadi, along the edge. Below them to the west were thousands of Judeans, huddled under what passed for shelter. A small group was clustered near the south end — Moses and the tribal leaders, arguing about direction and, more important, food.
“It will be a long and hard journey,” Gwalcmai continued when Donnchadh did not respond to his first statement. When she still didn’t say anything, he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “I am tired.”
That caught her attention. “What do you mean? We can rest on the way back. We are still early in these bodies and—”
“I am tired,” Gwalcmai said. He shrugged. “I don’t know what it is, but I feel weary like I never have before.”
That caused Donnchadh pause, bringing back memories of the time in Avalon when he had fallen sick. “Do you feel ill?”
“Nothing specific,” Gwalcmai said. “Just a feeling of unease and malaise.” He nodded toward the cluster around Moses. “They couldn’t agree on whether the sun came up, never mind on a direction. And I don’t see much possibility of food in this desolate place.”
“If we leave, what about the Grail?” Donnchadh asked.
“We did what we could. The Wedjat of the Judeans isprepared as best we could do. The Grail and Ark will pass into legend and history, but the bottom line is that the Airlia and their people will not have it. In fact, it would be best if you and I did not know where it is. We agreed that we would block out its location during the imprinting on the next regeneration, anyway, so that we would not be tempted.”
The Airlia technology they used had the ability to selectively block information from being downloaded into the brain. This was a security device the Airlia used to protect vital data from the Swarm in the only way possible — by making sure it was not accessible.
“You have to let go of your dream for now,” Gwalcmai said. “We knew from the beginning it would take a very, very long time before the Airlia could be overthrown here. We have done well, causing their civil war. Leading them into destroying Atlantis. Stealing the Grail. But it is time for us to let things develop. Who knows how this”—he indicated the Judeans—“will turn out. As I always say — it will turn out in a way we least expect.”
Donnchadh reluctantly nodded. “It is time for us to go.”
Aspasia’s Shadow watched the two white-robed figures head off to the north. He still had no idea who they were other than troublesome strangers. He had heard rumors of a group called the Wedjat, which traced its lineage back to Atlantis and had vowed to keep tabs on the Airlia. There was supposed to be one at Giza, but the threat from humans was so insignificant that Aspasia’s Shadow had never bothered to check out the rumors. Perhaps the two were part of this Wedjat. If so, they did more than watch. Getting the Grail out of the Hall of Records was a rather significant feat, but a fruitless one. Aspasia’s Shadow was more than prepared to counter their action.
As the two strange humans disappeared to the north, Aspasia’s Shadow sent an emissary to the Judean camp — a Bedu, one of many whom he had recruited through fear and bribery to support him in the Sinai. He had given the man both a message and a sign to present to the leader of the Judeans.
Moses had long ago accepted that this had been a mistake. He would have been better off staying governor of Midian than leading this group of ungrateful louts. He had always thought the Judeans one people, but although they all claimed a singular heritage, there were twelve distinct tribes among them. And it was nearly impossible to get two of the tribal leaders to agree on anything, never mind twelve. Every decision required a meeting and they spent more time in meetings than traveling.
He was leading them on a circuitous route to the land he had in mind for them not only because he feared the Egyptians but because he knew there were other dangers in Palestine, and if these people didn’t unite before they arrived, they would be overwhelmed.
Right now, though, food was the priority. The Judeans had brought few supplies with them on departing Egypt and the pickings had been slim along the way. The two who had started all this — Gwalcmai and Donnchadh — had made themselves scarce ever since the Sea of Reeds and been of little help.
As the dozen tribal chieftains argued among themselves, one of Moses’ aides came to him and whispered in his ear that a local man had come to talk to him. Glad to be out of earshot of the arguing, Moses left the tent and went a short distance away where the Bedu waited for him.
“My lord,” the Bedu said, going to one knee, as Moses appeared.
Moses dismissed his aide. “What do you want?”
The Bedu stood and held out an amulet. On it was inscribed the triangle with an eye in the middle — the same symbol Donnchadh had shown him. “You are Wedjat?” Moses asked.
“No, Lord. I come from one whom the Wedjat watch.”
Moses froze. “What do you mean?”
“I come from God to bring you a message and to bring you words of hope.”
Moses made note of the singular. “What God do you come from?”
“The one true God,” the Bedu said. “As a sign of his benevolence for you and the people you lead, he has prepared food for you and your people’s sustenance.”
That, at least, was more helpful than Donnchadh and her partner had been, Moses thought. “Where is this food?”
“I will show you, then you can lead your people to it. You will tell them it comes from their God. That their God will help them across the desert. But that they must worship and obey the one and only God.”
Moses nodded. It was the only way he could see to unite these people long enough for them to establish their homeland and fight off their enemies. “Is that all?”
“He wants to meet you and some of the elders of the tribes.”
Moses eyebrows arched. “God does?”
“Yes. First, the food. Then I will be back to tell you when and where to meet God.”
The food was abundant and mightily welcomed by the Judeans, who knew only that Moses was the favoredof God, who had showered this blessing down upon them. For the time being the bickering subsided. The encampment was moved, as Moses had been directed by the Bedu messenger to do, farther south, to the shadow of the shorter of the two peaks.
They spent a week eating and resting. Then the Bedu secretly came to Moses once more in the middle of the night. He ordered Moses to gather four of the Judean elders the next evening and to bring the Ark with them up the mountain. Moses was surprised for a moment that the Bedu knew of the Ark, as he had ordered it kept hidden during the journey for fear that someone would try to steal it. It had been loaded inside a large wooden box and placed on one of the few wagons they had brought with them.
Moses searched out the four elders and gave them the instructions. As darkness fell the following evening, they retrieved the Ark and carried it out of the camp and toward the base of the mountain. As the Bedu had said, they found a thin, single track that led up the mountain and with great difficulty, carrying the Ark, they made their way up. As dawn slowly tinged the sky to the east they were barely two-thirds of the way to the top when they crossed over a spur jutting out from the side of the mountain. They came to a halt as they were faced by a score of Bedu dressed in black robes and holding long, bright spears. In the forefront was the Bedu who had been meeting with Moses.