vague realization began to take form, like a dull light in her head that began just then to burn more brightly. She held up ten fi ngers, each for a century, and counted forward from Rekemheb' s generation in New Kingdom Egypt.

Valerie calculated. If each generation is twenty years, and fi ve generations are born in a century , then fi fty generations would make up a millennium, and a hundred would be roughly two thousand years.

But two thousand years after the reign of Pharaoh Meremptah would be about 1000 AD. The realization was staggering.

The familiar face looked impassionately at her through the Plexiglas as she whispered the revelation. "You lived a thousand years before the birth of Christ. We can't be the hundredth generation after you. You knew it all the time, but you never told us. The Child of the hundredth generation was born in the Early Middle Ages."

* 124 *

Vulture's Kiss She made another circle of the room, breathless, ordering her thoughts. She had to talk to Auset.

Then she saw it.

A small display case against the wall near the entrance. She knew its contents because she had put them there herself. A collar of gold and turquoise, hammered gold bracelets, slippers, fi nger and toe covers lined up in order of size. But next to them, in the corner, lay something that did not belong there.

Rekemheb's amulet, the amulet that Derek had brought back to Egypt and which Auset had taken from his suitcase. It could not be a copy, for Antiquities did not even know of its existence. And it could not possibly be the original that she had seen in Auset's hand the day before. She stood in front of it, paralyzed.

"Dr. Foret, please forgive the interruption." Fuad Rashidi stood in the entranceway.

"Oh, I'm sorry , Dr. Rashidi, but I was just on my way out. I can't stay long today. But please, take a look at this." She directed his attention toward the display case. "Can you tell me what this is? The amulet, I mean, there in the corner. It wasn't part of the collection."

He stood at her elbow, and she could sense his bewilderment.

"I confess, I don't recall it, and I certainly should. That's strange.

It has no tag either. I must look in the catalog."

"Yes, yes, please do that. In the meantime, I'm truly sorry. I have a very important meeting," she said over her shoulder to the baffl ed man. "I'll telephone you." She quickened her pace until she was almost running.

Her head pounded with questions. Who or what had brought the amulet from its hiding place to the museum? Were the gods toying with them? And most importantly, had the gods sent forth another chosen Child a thousand years before Nefi ?

* 125 *

32.

Jerusalem Amhara shaded Reni's face with a cloth as she herself squinted toward the Kidron valley.

"There it is, Sayyid Husaam," Sharif said unnecessarily as they reached the top of the hill. "Al Quds. The Holy City . "

Husaam stroked his beard. "I should be relieved, I suppose, but I would rather be in Damascus." From their elevation, he surveyed the landscape. "The Kidron valley is greener than I remember it. They must have had good rain this year . We can camp just down there between the wall and the brush." He looked toward the western end of the wall.

"There's a pool not far from the southern gate. Siloam, they call it. The men can water the animals this evening and be done with it."

The Cairene and Negev caravans made two clusters below the walls of the city. The men unloaded the camels and separated the freight as they had every evening in the desert. The women started two adjacent fi res for the cooking, then pitched the goat-hair tents around them.

Amhara unrolled the lar gest rug for Husaam to sit on in front of his tent. "How long will we have to stay outside the city, Father?"

"Not long. Only until I can send a message to the emir for permission to enter. I won him more than one good deal in past years, so I'm certain he will grant us quarters. In the meantime, you should keep to the tent with the other women."

Amhara looked over at the Negev women who were heating their cauldron of fuul beans over the larger fi re. She was weary of the noise and bickering and longed for the family tent they had shared before, with Faaria on one side of the curtain and her father and Sharif on the other. But since the two caravans had joined together , the Husaam tent had become a place of business and male talk, and the half dozen women of both camps were relegated to a single tent.

The double caravan did feel safer, however, and the monotony of the daily trek was alleviated by talk, even if it was trivial. And when they camped now in the community of women, a group cared for the children, so that each woman, in her turn, had a bit of rest. Only the * 126 *

Vulture's Kiss sleeping arrangements were tedious, for Amhara hadn't had an hour alone with Faaria.

She unfastened the sling that held Reni on her back and laid the drowsy infant down beside her father . "Here. Please take her . I'll be back in just a moment." She looked around for Faaria and saw her fi nally, hobbling the camels.

She joined her, standing over her as Faaria bent down to tie the sisal cord loosely above the animal' s knees. "Father said we have to stay with the other women until we go into the city. But that shouldn't be long. It will be different once we're inside."

Faaria was gruf f. "Let's hope the emir actually remembers your father, and this isn't just wishful thinking. Then let's hope he likes him enough to of fer us rooms." She dropped her voice. "W ill we ever be alone again?"

Amhara knelt down beside Faaria and said softly , "There' s a place where we can go alone before dawn, the pool of Siloam. The shepherds won't go there to water until after morning prayers. Would you like-?"

Faaria dropped long eyelashes. "Oh, yes, I would."

Ludolf of Tournai drew his khuffi a closer around his head so that it covered him like a Bedouin's turban, and only his eyes showed.

The scouting party had been well organized, with four men riding ahead to survey the land for food, water , and wood. A knight was not needed to accompany them, but Ludolf had nonetheless volunteered.

He had grown impatient with the bickering among the commanders and longed to reach the end of his three-year pilgrimage.

Now he would be among the fi rst to see the precious goal of all their labor before it was transformed by battle and fi re.

All afternoon it was a gray spot on the horizon, which appeared and disappeared as he rode over the hilly landscape. But then, as he crested the ridge of what he knew was the Mount of Olives, he saw it from above.

The Kidron valley was greener than he had imagined, with herds of goats grazing on the rocky plain. They would be useful to feed the army when it reached the city, he noted. A caravan seemed to have just * 127 *

arrived; he could see the camels being unloaded and the low black tents set up around the fi res outside the city walls. He briefl y resented the very normalcy of Saracens setting up their household before the city of Christ.

Jerusalem. The most precious place on earth, a place that he had carried in his heart for three years. He had studied every image of it, read every passage in the Bible, listened to every tale, and it seemed he knew it already. There on the one side was the Tower of David and, across from it, the dome of the great temple. And between them-his heart seemed to leap-were the smaller and more precious domes of the Church of the Sepulchre.

The late afternoon sun shone from deep in the west and poured a rich orange light over the city , as if burnishing it for the believer .

Here is where God had descended to earth. Where His incarnation had walked and preached and been tormented for men' s sins. Deep in the brickwork of its streets, droplets of His sacred blood still lingered.

Ludolf's hand came involuntarily to his heart. His chest tightened and he burst suddenly into tears. He dismounted and fell upon his knees and prayed in a trembling whisper.

Overwhelmed, he knew that he could not return to the Frankish camp that day. The other scouts would be turning back now to report where the armies could best encamp and strike the city . But he would spend the night in fasting and prayer beneath its walls.

A line of trees and low brush ran southwest and he followed it, crossing over the ruins of some ancient wall. As he approached a copse of trees around a pool, the shepherds watering their sheep ignored him. In the gathering darkness, his face and hair were covered by the headscarf, his leather jerkin concealed by loose Saracen clothing, so he felt neither threatening nor threatened.

He threaded his way through the low trees and fi nally dismounted to avoid being brushed from the saddle. Then he saw a piece of paradise.

At the center of the copse the rectangular pool lay placid, catching the last rays of evening light. On the one side rock formed a natural wall, and on the other , wide steps of crumbling brick led gently down to water level. Yes, he recalled now; the maps the invading army carried had showed a spring on the south side of the city, but gave no indication it was enclosed in such lush greenery.

* 128 *

Vulture's Kiss The water was sweet, as he knew it would be, and after he quenched his thirst, he brought his horse to the edge to drink. By the last light he led his mount back into the brush to avoid attracting attention. He savored the moist air and the chirping of the cicadas and wondered with a sudden shudder if this could have been the Garden of Gethsemane.

But no, the Frankish maps showed the sorrowful garden on the eastern side, and he was on the south.

He loosened his saddle and tied his horse on a long leash so it could graze, then undid his bedroll. The night was gentle and the ground beneath the trees was soft. Warmed by the joy of achievement and by the sense of lying so close to the city of Christ, he fell asleep. He dreamt he guided a great boat across the waters, and at his back, the Holy Spirit burned in a sphere of golden light.

* 129 *

33.

The Pool of Siloam Allaaaah uakbar! The sound of the fi rst call to prayer insinuated itself into Faaria's unconscious. As a non-believer, she shut it out at fi rst. But something deep inside her recalled that it signaled the short precious period before daylight, the stolen time.

Her eyes fl ew open. She reached toward one of the dark forms that slept on the carpet around her and touched it soundlessly . Amhara jerked to wakefulness and sat up. Next to her Reni still slept, sucking her fi st.

The Negev women would feed her along with the other children, and she would probably be content for a couple of hours before she would begin to cry for Ummi. In silent agreement, Amhara stood up at the same time as Faaria, and they stepped from the tent into the transparent darkness .

The sky was still cobalt, but dawn was close and there was just enough light for them to creep among the tents. A handful of men from the caravan knelt in prayer. Their foreheads pressed to the ground, they faced the opposite direction as the two women sprinted westward.

"Are you sure there's no one here?" Faaria whispered when they reached the circle of trees.

"It's too early . The men will be at prayer for awhile, and then they'll eat. There's time, I'm sure."

"All right. Come here then." Faaria drew Amhara to a spot just beyond the stone steps that led into the pool and in front of two trees.

The pool itself was still black and uninviting, and the fl ocks would not water there for another hour.

The wall of trees around the pool blocked the faint light af forded by the dawning sky, and each woman saw the other only vaguely.

"I have waited half a hundred days to do this," Faaria whispered.

She took hold of the face she could barely see and pressed her lips on it. In the cool air of the grove, their two mouths were a center of warmth that radiated downward. They stood together in a tight embrace for several minutes, until Faaria broke the kiss and whispered into Amhara's hair, as if she could be overheard. "I know the sweet thing * 130 *

Vulture's Kiss that's at the end. Let me touch you and take you there, habibti."

"Yes, yes," Amhara breathed, opening her abaya.

Faaria stepped back and pulled her long galabaya over her own head and undid the cord to let her trousers fall to the ground. For a moment they looked at each other , pale bodies ghostlike in the half light."Hurry, habibti." Amhara stepped into her arms again. "I am afraid the shepherds-"

Faaria covered her mouth with another kiss, deeper and more urgent than the one before. Then she drew her down onto the patch of grass between the trees and the stone steps. They lay side by side for a moment, warming themselves on each other , breathing each other 's scent. Faaria inched down and took Amhara's full breast in her mouth.

How glorious, how dizzying it was to know her this way . If this was wickedness then she was lost, for she would not stop herself. Her hand moved down the softly curving belly to the forbidden place, and Amhara opened to her.

A wave of excitement spread through her, bringing the wonderful tight heat to her own sex, and she buried her face in Amhara's neck.

A thousand times she had imagined how it would be to touch her this way, and she had been right. It was passing wonderful. What she had not imagined was how easy it would be, how they would both fall so quickly into wild abandon.

Oh sweet heaven, to feel Amhara press against her and slide her hand down beneath her belly.

She lifted slightly to let Amhara's fi ngers go to the forbidden place and...ohh. What delicious madness, to set two fi res burning-the one she fed with her hand and the one that fl ickered between her own thighs from the demon serpent that slipped inside of her . Fire and serpent.

In her delirium the infernal images combined, and she surrendered to perdition.

Like brushfi re it caught them both, young bodies that had craved too long, and they writhed and strained until the thing erupted. Faaria felt it fi rst in Amhara, then in her own shuddering rapture.

"Oh, habibti," Amhara whispered. "I knew it would be like that. I knew you could make me happy that way."

"You did the same for me." Faaria chuckled softly . "Shameless * 131 *

woman. You knew exactly what to do. How did you know?"

"What do you think, you silly person? Of course I knew . You are just like me."

"Not exactly. For example, I don' t like this, but maybe you do."

She leaned over and nipped at Amhara's breast.

"Oh!" Amhara yelped. "No, I don't like that. But maybe you like this." She tickled Faaria along her ribs, causing her to giggle. Then they fell again into an embrace, silent with gratitude.

Some bright sound awakened him, and he opened his eyes to the fi rst light of dawn. He listened, perplexed, thinking it was birdsong, then realized it was girlish laughter. He threw off his blanket and stood up.

There at the corner he saw them, two Saracen women. He crept closer, concealed by the foliage and the pre-dawn dimness, to a vantage point where he could see them clearly. One was slender and boyish, her hair scarcely reaching her shoulders, and the other more voluptuous.

He peered through the brush, rapt, trying to make sense of the spectacle. For they were lying on the ground, naked and locked in an embrace. The short-haired one lay half over the other one, and their mouths were pressed together.

He'd heard stories back in Flanders that the Mohammedans copulated with animals. This, he concluded, must be another form of that perversion.

The boyish one lifted herself up, resting her weight on her elbow, and the voluptuous one who still lay on the ground became fully visible. His heart pounded at the sight of the woman' s full breasts and the triangle of hair between her thighs. Three years it had been since his oath of celibacy, three long, blood-soaked years, and he knew he should withdraw or lechery would undo him. His Christian conscience told him he looked on wickedness, yet he could not tear his eyes away.

He watched, both thrilled and horrifi ed, as the taller one slid her hand between the legs of the other . He thought he heard her moan, and he wanted to look away but could not, so powerful was the grip of sin. The offense was both to God and nature, a stone' s throw from the Sepulchre of Christ. Not only did they desecrate a holy place, * 132 *

Vulture's Kiss they polluted him, for he felt his resolve weaken, as if a witch' s hand caressed his sex .

"Abomination!" Outraged, he burst from his hiding place.

The two defi lers leapt to their feet and stood quaking as he advanced. Then the taller one stepped in front of the other and barked something at him in their vile language.