Gulé stood solemnly by the archway and waved the men off. The Snatch sped northwards out of the village. Everything felt good. The road was good, the fields were full of wet, wild flowers and the weather was glorious: not too hot, with a sweet, cooling breeze rolling down from the Hakkari Mountains.
Major Richmond gave Ashe a sly smile. ‘Mystery tour, Toby. Do you mind changing gear for me?’
‘Amazing you can drive at all. It looked like your shoulder’d been torn off.’
‘Thank God for the Blue tracker. Took the main force.’
‘Who put you right?’
‘Czech field hospital. Fantastic people. Tore a patch off my backside. How’s your pneumothorax? Jolo told me the story.’
‘Pneumobollocks! My breathing’s fine. Never better. Vinny was talking out his arse, I reckon.’ Ashe suddenly became aware of Zappa’s absence. ‘Where is Vinny?’
‘That’s the bad news. Maybe he was protecting you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Vinny failed to report. No codes received on any channel. Vanished. We’re half expecting to see his face on some bloody video with an execution threat.’
‘And?’
‘Nothing, so far. The kidnappers like to time their broadcasts for maximum impact. Even so, something usually leaks out.’
‘I can see him bending a few rules – if he was on to something.’
‘Some rules you don’t bend. He knows that as well as anyone.’ Richmond cleared his throat. ‘Unfortunately, Toby, this makes things difficult for you. Without your source handler, you’re wasting your time here.’ Richmond paused. ‘And ours.’
Ashe sighed. ‘Just as things were getting interesting.’
Richmond scratched the back of his neck. ‘Desk has taken a remarkable interest in your welfare, Toby. Not that you heard that from me, you understand.’
‘Crayke or no Crayke, I take it the mystery tour leads straight to the airport.’
‘Not quite.’ Richmond turned to the Kochek, who was sitting next to Jolo on the back seat. ‘Tell him, Jiddan.’
Jiddan’s face lit up. ‘It leads to Lalish! The pilgrimage site all Yezidi must visit once in their lifetime.’
Ashe liked the sound of that. ‘And the occasion?’
‘A little ceremony. Jolo’s horsemen are handling security. Watching the passes. I’m Crayke’s representative. All part of my liaison work with the Yezidi community. Respect breeds security. You can often accomplish a lot more by showing up at a family event – provided you’re invited of course – than with a squadron of tanks.’
Ashe pondered the situation. There was no way the British and American security effort in Baghdad could afford to part with one of its best officers for a community liaison exercise. There was obviously more to it.
‘You sure that’s the only reason for this journey, Simon?’
Richmond turned to Ashe and smiled a smile that felt like a wink. ‘Need-to-know basis, Toby.’
The Snatch stopped at a T-junction. The metalled road continued to the left, signposted to Tel Kef. To the right, the road became a track: red earth, muddy, full of potholes. This route was signposted in Arabic, but an English translation had been painted beneath it: ‘Esiyan’.
‘Guess which way, Toby?’
‘By the steep and rugged pathway must we tread rejoicingly!’
‘Where would we be without Hymns Ancient & Modern?’
‘Modern Britain, dear boy.’
Richmond laughed. ‘That path leads to your pot of gold, says the little one.’
‘Little one?’
‘That’s what “Kochek” means.’
‘I’ll believe it when I see it.’
‘That’s not believing at all.’
Richmond turned the Land Rover to the right.
‘Did you know the Yezidis invented the Ark?’
Jiddan chipped in. ‘Noah, he true son of the tradition.’
‘The Yezidis have a story there was another Flood.’
‘Like the one in the Bible?’
‘They say there were two. They say the great ship started at a village called Ain Sifni. That’s a few miles northwest of here.’
Ashe had the distinct feeling that they were driving across some vast, cuneiform-inscribed tablet; the tracks were like the ancient Babylonian letters. But what was its message?
‘The water rose and the ship sailed off.’
‘Any particular direction?’
‘Who can say? Anyhow, it sort of ran aground on the peaks of Mount Sinjar, where a rock pierced the hull.’
Jiddan, who was trying hard to follow Richmond’s telling of the story, interjected. ‘Snake! Snake!’
‘As Jiddan says, there was this great serpent in the ship. And the snake curled itself up into a cake. And that plugged the ship. Then the ship floated off again until it rested on Mount Judi, ninety miles northeast of here. Used to be pilgrimages to see the remains.’
The Defender ground its way northwards, passing groups of armed Kurdish fighters on the way. Some of the Kurds cheered at the sight of a Coalition vehicle; some just nodded. They all looked dog-tired.
After long miles of trundling northeast, the Snatch took a left at the crossroads. Direction: Atrush. Ahead, Ashe could see a cluster of gentle, green mountains.
‘Why approach from the east? Lalish is north of Bashiqa.’
‘If we’d come from the south, we’d have had to take the footpath from Ba’dre – through the mountains. Bit of a hike.’
In the distance, Ashe could see the shell of an ancient building.
‘Khana Êzî,’ said Jolo.
‘Khana Êzî?’
‘House of Ezîd. “Ezîd” is other name for God.’
‘Sultan Ezîd,’ added Jiddan.
‘Yes. This was Yezidi caravanserai. Many pilgrims come to Lalish in old times.’
Ashe got the feeling Jolo could actually envision lines of camels and horses and pilgrims: richly dressed, poorly dressed, brightly dressed, happily approaching… But wait! thought Ashe, that is what I’m seeing – in my mind’s eye. He looked round at the Kochek. The Kochek was staring at him, his face glowing.
‘There!’ Jolo pointed right, to the mountain rising in the north. ‘There!’
‘Mount Erefat,’ added Richmond coolly.
‘Yes, Erefat, Tobbiash. High on Mount Erefat is holy spring.’
‘Kanî Baykî.’ Jiddan nodded knowingly.
‘This, Tobbiash, is where Sheykh Adi beat rock with his gopal.’
‘Gopal?’
‘Like stick for guiding sheep. He beat rock with stick. Water flow from rock. Living water. Holy water. Spring still there. Kanî Baykî.’
‘And who was Sheykh Adi?’
The two Yezidis were astounded Ashe had never heard of Sheykh Adi. To them, Adi was clearly the most important being who had ever lived.
Jiddan put his large hand gently on Richmond’s shoulder. ‘Here, Major, we stop.’
The Snatch came to a quiet rest near a burbling mountain stream. Jolo pointed to a small, white, stone bridge. ‘Pira Silat.’
Jolo and Jiddan took their shoes off and stepped to the edge of the sparkling water. They washed their hands, faces and necks. Ashe followed them.
Richmond gripped his Browning, holstered onto his thigh. His cotton trousers stuck uncomfortably to his leg. The holster had been rubbing it all day long. He looked about him, then reached for a pair of field glasses to study the dense woodland.
Rising from the water, Jolo shook his head dry, then pointed to the major. The Yezidis laughed. Jolo made an ear-piercing whistle. From out of the woods, on both sides of the road, emerged a dozen of Jolo’s irregular cavalry. Forming a sixty-metre ring around the Land Rover, they dismounted, withdrew their M16s from their saddles, and vanished into the bushes and grasses.
Jolo and Jiddan then crossed the bridge three times, clapping. As they made their way back and forth, they solemnly intoned the words:
Pira Silat, aliyek doje, êk cennete
‘We’re leaving the car and travelling on foot, so I should stick your boots back on, Toby. Those guys will walk barefoot the rest of the way, but they’re used to it. We don’t want to have to carry you back.’
‘Just getting in the spirit of things.’
‘Think of yourself as an official observer, OK?’
‘And this?’ Ashe patted his sidearm.
‘There may not be much verbal objection to your having it, under current circumstances, but keep it covered.’
Ashe looked over to the two pilgrims on the other side of the bridge. ‘What did those words mean?’
Jiddan gestured permission for Jolo to answer. ‘Being interpreted, Tobbiash, the words are saying: “On the one side is hell; on the other Paradise”.’
Richmond nudged Ashe across the bridge. ‘D’you hear that, Toby? Paradise.’