Desert God by Wilbur Smith

qualify for that exemption, Captain.’ Grall lowered his wine mug. ‘However, even if you do qualify I may have to charge you for my expenses.’ His smile was sly and knowing. ‘But it will be a paltry sum, I do assure you.’
    ‘Of course.’ Zaras nodded. ‘All of us must live. However, I am grateful for this opportunity to speak to you in private. I need to send a message to Memphis informing King Beon of our imminent arrival. I am conveying to him a large amount of silver bars as tribute from our Supreme Minos.’ Zaras reached under the table and produced the silver ingot which I had given him earlier. He placed this on the table top between them. ‘Here is a sample.’
    Grall set aside his mug slowly and fastened his gaze on the ingot. His eyes seemed to bulge from their sockets. His toad’s mouth hung open slackly so the wine dribbled over his lips and ran down into his scraggly beard. He seemed bereft of the power of speech. Probably he had never laid eyes on such a treasure in his entire lifetime.
    ‘I wondered if you have carrier birds here at Kuntus; birds that can fly to Memphis and take my message to your king to alert him ahead of our arrival at his capital city?’ Zaras continued.
    Grall croaked and nodded his head. He was unable to answer coherently or to take his eyes off the glistening bar of silver.
    ‘Perhaps we should look upon this ingot as the payment for your invaluable services.’ Zaras nudged the silver bar an inch towards him. ‘A token of the accord that exists between our two great nations.’ Zaras placed the pigeon pod containing my missive beside the ingot. ‘This is the message that must be sent to your King Beon, if it so pleases you.’
    One of Grall’s hands crawled across the table like a great hairy spider and spread itself over the silver ingot. He lifted it reverently and pushed it down the front of the stained leather jerkin that he wore, and knotted the fastenings. His hands were trembling with emotion. The ingot made a considerable bulge under his jerkin, but he clasped it to his breast as tenderly as a mother giving suck to her infant.
    He came unsteadily to his feet and with his free hand picked up the pigeon pod. ‘I understand now that you are involved in affairs of high state, Your Honour.’ He bowed deeply to Zaras. ‘Please forgive my intrusion. Of course I consider myself to be privileged to be given the honour of flying your message to King Beon with one of my birds. The king will have your message in his hands before sunset this very evening. Even in this magnificent ship of yours you will not be able to reach Memphis before noon the day after tomorrow.’
    ‘You are extremely kind. Now I will escort you safely back on board your felucca,’ Zaras offered, but Grall was already halfway up the companion ladder to the upper deck.
    Zaras and I watched the felucca racing back to Kuntus. We delayed long enough to see Grall scramble from the felucca to the jetty and then hurry into the village. Only then did I nod at Zaras. We spread our sails and ran out our banks of oars to resume our southerly course.
    I looked back over our stern and saw a horseman leave the scattered buildings of Kuntus and gallop up the track to the watchtower on the headland. I shaded my eyes against the sun and watched him pull up at the base of the tower and toss his reins to a waiting groom, then drop to the ground and hurry into the tall building.
    A short time later the same man reappeared on the top platform of the tower. He was silhouetted against the sky as he lifted both his arms above his head. A purple pigeon fluttered from his cupped hands and whirled aloft on swift wing-beats.
    The bird circled the tower three times and then settled on to a determined southerly heading. It came down the middle of the river, climbing swiftly. But as it passed directly over our ship it was still low enough for me to imagine that I could see the shape of the tiny pod fastened to one of the legs