WATER and FIRE: The Quest of the Cushite Warrior

ADJUA'S TRIBULATION

Silent as the shadows, Adjua Babatu--a proud African warrior and chieftain--moved through a chamber in the rock-hewn tomb of a dateless pyramid. His every muscle was vibrant in anticipation of danger. How can a man live long with this polluted air in his lungs? he thought, waving a feeble torch about in absolute darkness.

Searching for the passageway to the next chamber, he moved the flame to the left. Like a talisman in the ancient tales about Egyptian witchdoctors, the torch seemed imbued with the power to call up corpses and skeletons. Adjua walked onward among the remnants of dead men. The stench made him gag.

When he discovered the passageway, he continued past more fleshless skeletons into the next Cimmerian chamber. His only desire was to escape the hellish prison, and he was fearfully aware that the prison keeper would soon notice his absence.

After creeping through several more chambers and winding passageways, he finally came to another chamber that was larger than the others. On the farthest wall, he noticed a rectangular outline--possibly the outline of a door. He approached the etched portion of the wall, holding his tiny flame forward. On closer examination, he felt certain that it was a block of granite that was separate from the wall. Perhaps he had stumbled on the secret exit from the immense tomb.

Over eight feet high and six feet across, the rectangular stone taunted him with its massiveness. He saw neither handles nor notches to take hold of or fit his hand into. He lifted the torch higher. The flame revealed Egyptian inscriptions written across the uppermost edge of the stone.

He read the hieroglyphs: The words of the gods lay written before you, yet you dare not open your eyes. Hear what I say to you: look upon the truth and your life will be lengthened.

More inscriptions had been written beneath the message, but he could not decipher them because they were stonewashed. What mean these hieroglyphs? Have I found freedom from here or not? If it is a door, I will say farewell to this prison. His mind reeled as though inebriated with fermented drink at the idea of freedom from the bowels of the dank tomb.

O Isis, Egyptian sun goddess, I beg you to bring strength to my hands that I may find freedom.

He fixed his shoulder against the slab of granite--hoping it to be the obstacle between him and freedom.

After a few moments, the stone began to yield to his Herculean effort. He persisted, pressing against the stone and straining every muscle until daylight squeezed through the newly made crack between the granite block and the wall. He reached his hand into the sunlight. The warmth of the rays intensified his desire to escape. He tossed the torch aside and shoved his shoulder against the granite block again.

The stone slid farther outward along a rough groove in the porch beyond. The space was now wide enough to allow the sun-rays to bathe his work-tortured flesh. Breathing heavily, he dropped to both knees. He took a last look into the tomb. A grim smile touched his lips as the corpses seemed to bid him stay.

Despite his soreness and fatigue from working the stone block outward, he somehow rose to both feet and staggered to the outer edge of the porch.

The landscape was beautiful. It was not the desert he had expected. It was as though he looked upon a dreamland. Rainbow-winged butterflies flitted about blue, orange-red, and golden flowers. The colorful blossoms stretched across the valley to faraway hills. Elysian olive groves lounged upon the hillsides beneath a bright sun. He inhaled the vitalizing breeze, delicious as the taste of a newly plucked plum. He quickly forgot the multi-chambered hellhole from which he had just emerged as he staggered down the steps of the portico. Happily, he entered the flowery meadow.

Suddenly, a cold gust of wind blew over the land. In the blink of an eye, the valley became bleak and dismal. The flowers withered and drooped to the ground. One by one the butterflies dropped dead. The groves on the hills became leafless, and the tree trunks molded with fungus. He gazed with confusion at the lifeless valley. Then unseen fingers snatched him back into the tomb.

In the frightening silence, his heart pounded like a African witch doctor's tom-tom calling out to lowland tribes. He looked across the chamber at the corpses. Then bull-like snorts came from the adjacent chamber. With horror, he turned to watch the passageway. The furious snorts caused him to speculate what possible horror lurked so near. He did not have to wonder for long.

An enormous, shadowy form appeared from the passageway. The winged monster moved into the stream of sunlight that entered through the gap between the granite door and the wall. The sunlight struck a nine-foot monster with the head of a bull and the body of a man. Horns jutted from each side of its forehead and curved inward, nearly touching one another at the ends. Mucky hair covered the creature's beastly frame, and its wingspan reached thirteen feet across. The eyes of the beast blazed. Then without warning, it snorted and charged.

Adjua's knees buckled. He dropped into the grime and scrambled away until he hit a wall. Cringing against the cold stone, he shut his eyes tightly. When he felt the beast's claws pierce his quivering flesh, he let out a shameful scream.

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