‘The Mahdi has invited Gordon to join the jihad. My Dongolese guide told me that he even sent him a present of a patched jibba of the Ansar to wear.’
Kitchener snorted. ‘Gordon kicked it across the room in disgust.’
‘And yet he kept it, along with the Mahdi’s other presents.’
‘What are you asking me?’ Kitchener demanded, suddenly haughty again.
‘If Gordon is pushed, which way will his pendulum swing?’
‘You mean has he built his own crucifix, is he standing on a holy rock reaching out to Allah?’
‘Either way he is flying very close to the sun.’
Kitchener squinted at the reddening orb on the horizon. ‘That’s easily done in the desert. You can forgive a man out here for thinking like a pharaoh.’
‘Or like a Mahdi.’
Kitchener pursed his lips. ‘As Christians we have been more savage to those within our faith who do not follow our path than we have been with the infidel. The Mahdi is playing the same game. He has persuaded his followers that the Turkish Muslims are unbelievers because they do not follow the jihad. He knows that in future the jihad will gain strength from this war with moderate Islam. And he knows perfectly well that the true Ansar, his most fanatical followers, only number a small minority now among his army, and that the majority are tribesmen who have been swept up for reasons other than faith. The basis for their fervour in battle is to be sought deep within the history of the desert itself. To keep that fervour stoked, the Mahdi must satisfy the warrior urge for blood, and keep them wanting more. It is a precarious edifice, with weaknesses that one day we might exploit to turn the tide.’
‘Yet not in this campaign.’
‘Each battle for the Mahdi has a parallel in the battles that the Prophet Muhammad fought twelve hundred years ago. As his power develops, the Mahdi is able to shape his own history so that it becomes even more similar. His ultimate aim is to restore the caliphate as he believed Muhammad envisaged it, to discard modern progress and take the world back twelve hundred years.’
‘Using Remington rifles and Krupps field guns.’
‘Means, not ends. Necessary evils to counter the weapons of the unbelievers. All will be discarded when the jihad is over, and the blade and spear will rule supreme again.’
‘Do you think Gordon sympathises with this view of history?’
‘Gordon stands apart from history. But like the Mahdi, he inhabits the world of the foundation of our religion. His time in Jerusalem three years ago was a spiritual journey back to the final days of Christ. And since first arriving in the Sudan ten years ago he has been absorbed by the world of the Old Testament, the time of Moses and Pharaoh and the Exodus from Egypt. He believes that Akhenaten was the pharaoh of the Bible and that Moses received his vision of one God from him. He believes that the vision came to Akhenaten somewhere out here, in the desert.’
‘Those relief carvings I saw, of Akhenaten and the sun-disc,’ Mayne murmured. ‘That’s why you were so interested in them. Have you seen something similar in the desert?’
Kitchener gave him a stony stare. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Because I know Gordon was searching for images of Akhenaten, and excavated sites in the desert with Heinrich Schliemann during his first period as governor general. My Dongolese guide worked as an interpreter for Gordon before joining me, and his last act before leaving Khartoum was to load crates of antiquities and artefacts on to the steamer Abbas for its voyage to safety. Among them was a stone slab which Gordon had insisted be double-crated and cushioned in cloth. My guide knew of my interest in the ruins and inscriptions we passed in the desert, and he drew me a sketch of the slab showing hieroglyphics and radiating lines like those of the Aten sun-disc.’
Kitchener’s eyes bored into him. ‘Can you reproduce it for me?’
Mayne shook his head. ‘It was a sketch made with a stick in the sand.’
‘You say this slab came from Khartoum?’
‘Gordon himself supervised the loading. Whether it was from Khartoum or from one of Gordon’s expeditions, I do not know.’
Kitchener shook his head, knitting his brow. ‘If he had made such a find earlier, he would have told me. This must be a recent discovery, very recent.’
‘Why would he have thought to tell you? Surely there were far more pressing concerns than antiquities and archaeology.’
Kitchener’s eyes were ablaze. ‘Nothing more pressing, I can assure you.’
‘My guide had left the steamer before Colonel Stewart was murdered, but he watched from the far bank as dervishes swarmed over the wreck and dived into the water. They brought up all the crates they could and prised them open, but threw everything back. He thought they were searching for gold and had no interest in the artefacts.’
‘The stone slab?’ Kitchener demanded.
Mayne shook his head. ‘Apparently it was hidden beneath the boiler, where Gordon insisted it be concealed. It seemed to be his prize possession. My guide saw nothing like that raised before the wreck slipped into deeper water.’
‘So it is still there,’ Kitchener said quietly, more to himself than to Mayne.
‘In the river Nile near Abbas Kortas, close to the west bank, so under the Mahdi’s control, I fear. If you’re thinking of attempting to recover the steamer and Gordon’s belongings, that will have to wait until you are able to lead your army of reconquest into the Sudan.’
‘It is an artefact of the utmost importance,’ Kitchener murmured.
Mayne gazed at him. ‘What is going on? Who else knows about this?’
Kitchener stared at him intently. ‘It is a discovery that is the concern of the highest echelons of power. All I will say is this. Many who support Gordon regard Prime Minister Gladstone as a malign force; but do not do so. He has a great interest in Gordon’s discoveries in the desert. He has taken a gamble with Gordon, one of which Wolseley has no knowledge. For months Gladstone pulled every string to prevent Gordon being reappointed to the Sudan; he was working against what he saw as Gordon’s self-destructiveness. But then Gordon went in private to see Gladstone to tell him about something archaeological he needed to find in the desert that he had come close to tracking down during his previous period in the Sudan, an ancient Egyptian temple. He took me and Colonel Wilson into his confidence. Gladstone was won over by his zeal, and agreed with great trepidation to let him go.’
‘And yet he is at loggerheads with Gordon in public.’
‘Gordon did not keep his end of the bargain. He should have left Khartoum as soon as he had located the inscription, but he did not.’
‘This discovery must have been a pretty large prize.’
Kitchener stared at him, began to speak but then thought better of it. He straightened up and tucked the map case under his arm. ‘If you reach Gordon, he may choose to reveal more. If you do not reach him, then there is no value in you knowing.’
‘I need every point of sympathy with the man and his motivations if I am to persuade him to leave.’
‘If that is truly your purpose.’
‘I follow Lord Wolseley’s orders. You know what those were.’
Kitchener grunted. ‘Do you speak the language?’
‘My guide taught me some of the Beja language, Tu-Bedawi, and I know Arabic.’
Kitchener’s eyes narrowed. ‘An Arabic speaker. You are well prepared.’
‘A war out here was always on the cards. I’m a surveyor, Kitchener, just like you. Learning the language is an essential tool of the trade. ’