Ayesha the Obeyed

A dry hot wind drove scents across the plains. They were scents of the wild, of dust and grass, animals and their droppings, and the stench of rotting flesh.After a long day the blazing sun had reached the horizon. Enormous animals roamed the plain their long shadows moving across the arid ground. Calls and roars echoed like distant thunder, a reminder of the power that the living beings of this continent possessed. Fear was a real thing in this place and it was not just a pride of lions that could evoke it. Herds of elephants with their bulks of grey flesh or charging herds of hippopotamuses could arouse a sense of terror along with wonder.A solitary figure, standing on a rocky outcrop, experienced these feelings as he stared out at the spectacular sight presented before him like a vast canvas spread out and painted by the Lord Himself.Up above the sky had caught fire, burning the deepest scarlet as the orange globe sank beyond the infinite horizon. Below the plains had become a dark shade of lavender as the shadows merged to become one. Here in these latitudes twilight was a swift transition as quick as a striking predator.Darkness descended and the stars appeared. Brighter than anywhere else on earth, they were beyond mere points of white, they were red, yellow, a few blue. A huge streak of these emerged in the sky appearing like an elegant stream of water reflecting sunlight. And the night became cooler as the day was dry with heat the night was frosted with cold. The animals of the plains continued to call out, as the full moon ascended the distant mountains. Black clouds danced across it, blocking the light, indifferent to its silvery beauty. Time had slipped away from this place like a handful of red earth carried on the wind.A knock on his office door brought Horace Holly back from his daydream and to his present reality. Thoughts of the travels he had experienced through Africa, that strange Dark Continent, would come back later. For now he turned to the door of his office to see who had interrupted him.'Leo,' he said when he saw who stood at the open door. 'Come in, please. How can I help you?''Afternoon, Uncle Holly,' Leo greeted.Although he referred to him as Uncle, Leo was not related to Horace by blood. Their relationship had commenced twenty years previous, as Horace was busy studying to gain his fellowship to Cambridge as a professor of archaeology. At this time his only friend Mark Vincey, knowing he was about to die, had instructed Horace to raise his son, Leo, as his own. Alone and unmarried, Horace had taken what he saw as the only opportunity to have a family and successfully raised Leo to become an academic and a gentlemen in his own right. Along with raising the boy, Horace had also taken charge of a Vincey family heirloom. On Leo's twenty-fifth birthday, both men had opened the heirloom, a chest containing directions to an unexplored area of Africa's eastern coast. And thus their adventure of discovery had begun.'You gave me a letter to read,' Leo declared.He walked into the university office and sat down in one of the spare chairs in front of the desk. He took out of his jacket pocket a folded piece of paper and handed it to Holly. 'You wanted my opinion. I hope I haven't interrupted anything.''No, these student papers have made me particularly bored. I was just remembering an African sunset. But to the letter, what did you think?''Interesting, both subject and sender,' Leo began. 'I thought the man had died and yet here he is writing to you of all people, no offense meant, and asking about the most peculiar of individuals. Where is he now?''Dorn Pedro the Second, last Emperor of Brazil, is living his days of exile in France. Alone and forgotten it would seem from his letters.''How many are there? Letters?''Several, and they are here if you want to look at them.' Holly retrieved the rest of the letters that had been sent to him by Pedro II and handed them over to his ward. …