Power of the Sword - Smith Wilbur - Страница 60

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He meant it, she spoke aloud. He was truly ashamed.

He could never have done the same thing again. She shivered with dread as she decided what she was going to do, and to bolster her courage she went on in a voice that shook slightly, It's a bluff. The notice is a bluff. It must be, then she broke off as she remembered the three dead horses. He put them down. They were finished, and he used poison on them as part of the bluff. Probably gave it to them in a bucket, but not the water-hole. He wouldn't have done that twice. Slowly she took the hat from her head and used the wide brim to skim the floating layer of dust and rubbish from the surface of the pool. Then she scooped a hatful of the clear cool water, holding it in both hands, steeling herself to do it. She took a deep breath and touched the water with her lips.

Centaine! Blaine roared in shock and rage as he bounded down the bank and snatched the hat out of her hands. The water splashed over her legs soaking her breeches. He seized her by the arms and jerked her to her feet. His face was swollen and dark, his eyes blazing with anger as he shouted in her face. Have you gone stark staring mad, woman? He was shaking her brutally, his fingers digging into the flesh of her upper arms.

Blaine, you are hurting me. Hurting you? I could willingly thrash you, you crazy Blaine, it's a bluff, I'm sure of it. She was frightened of him. His rage was a terrible thing to watch. Blaine. Please!

Please listen to me. She saw the change in his eyes as he regained control. Oh God, he said, I thought, You are hurting me, she repeated stupidly, and he released her.

I'm sorry. He was panting as though he had run a marathon. 'Don't do that to me again, woman, next time I don't know what I will do. Blaine! Listen to me. It's a bluff. He didn't poison the water. I would stake my life on it. ,you almost did, he growled at her, but he was listening now. How did you reach that conclusion? He leaned closer to her, interested and ready to be convinced.

I knew him once. Knew him well. I heard him make an oath. it was he who poisoned the water-hole you talked about, back in 1915. He admitted it, but he swore that he would never be able to do it again. He described the carnage at the water-hole, and he swore an oath. The dead horses lying out there, Blaine demanded, how do you explain them? All right. He poisoned them. He would have to have destroyed them anyway. They were broken; he couldn't leave them for the lions. He strode to the edge of the water and stared down into it.

You were going to take that chance, he broke off and shuddered, then turned from the water and called sharply.

Sergeant Hansmeyer! Sir. The sergeant hurried across from the horse lines.

Sergeant, bring the lame mare to me, and Hansmeyer went to the lines and led the animal back. She was favouring her right fore and they would have to leave her anyway.

Let her drink! Blaine ordered.

Sir? Hansmeyer looked puzzled, and then when he realized Blaine's intention, he became alarmed. From the spring? It's poisoned, sir. That's what we are going to find out, Blaine told him grimly. Let her drink! Eagerly the black mare scrambled down the bank and bent her long neck to the pool.

She sucked up the water in great gulps. It sloshed and gurgled into her belly, and she seemed to swell before their eyes.

I didn't think to use one of the horses, Centaine whispered. 'Oh, it will be terrible if I have guessed wrongly. Hansmeyer let the mare drink until she was satiated, and then Blaine ordered, Take her back to the lines. He checked his wristwatch. We'll give her an hour, he decided, and took Centaine's hand. He led her to the shade thrown by the overhang of the bank and they sat together.

You say you knew him? he asked at last. How well did you know him? He worked for me, years ago. He did the first development work at the mine. He is an engineer, you know. Yes. I know he is an engineer. It's in his file. He was silent. You must have got to know him very well for him to admit something like that to you? It's a very intimate thing, a man's guilt. She did not reply. What can I tell him? she thought. That I was Lothar De La Rey's mistress? That I loved him and bore him a son? Suddenly Blaine chuckled. Jealousy is really one of the most unlovely emotions, isn't it? I withdraw the question.

It was impertinent. Forgive me. She laid her hand on his arm and smiled at him gratefully.

That doesn't mean I have forgiven you for the fright you gave me, he told her with mock severity. I could still quite happily turn you over my knee. The thought of it gave her a funny little perverse twinge of excitement. His rage had frightened her and that excited her also. He had not shaved since they had left the mission.

His new beard was thick and dark as the pelt of an otter except there was a single silver hair in it. It grew at the corner of his mouth, shining like a star in the night.

What are you staring at? he asked.

I was wondering if your beard would scratch, if you decided to kiss me instead of spanking me. She saw him struggling like a drowning man in a rip tide of temptation. She imagined the fears and the doubts and the anguish of wanting that boiled behind those green eyes, and she waited, her face turned up to him, neither pulling back nor thrusting forward, waiting for him to accept the inevitability of it.

When he took her mouth it was fiercely, almost roughly, as though he was angry with his own inability to resist, and angry with her for leading him into this dangerous wilderness of infidelity. He sucked all the strength out of her body so that she went limp in his arms, only the grip of her own arms around his neck matched his and her mouth was deep and wet and soft and open for him to probe.

He broke away from her at last and sprang to his feet. He stood over her, looking down at her. May God have pity on us, he whispered, and strode away up the bank, leaving her alone with her joy and disquiet and guilt and with the raging flame he had kindled in her belly.

Sergeant Hansmeyer summoned her at last. He came to the pool and stood at the top of the bank.

Colonel Malcomess is asking for you, Missus. She followed him back to the horse lines, and she felt strangely detached from reality. Her feet seemed not to touch the earth and everything was dreamlike and far away.

Blaine stood with the lame mare, holding her head and stroking her neck. She made little fluttering sounds in her nostrils and nibbled at the front of his tunic. Blaine looked over her head as Centaine came up on the mare's other side.

They stared at each other.

No turning back, he said softly, and she accepted the ambiguity of his words. We go forward, together. Yes, Blaine, she agreed meekly.

And to hell with the consequences, he said harshly.

A second longer they held each other's eyes, and then Blaine lifted his voice. Sergeant, water all the horses and fill the bottles. We have nine hours to make up on the chase. They kept going through the night. The little Bushmen stayed on the spoor with only the stars and a sliver of moon to light it for them, and when the sun rose the tracks were still strung out ahead of them, each filled with purple shadow by the acutely slanted rays.

Now there were four riders in the fleeing band, for the horse herder from the fountain had joined them and they were leading a spare horse each.

An hour after dawn, they found where the fugitives had camped the previous night. Lothar had abandoned two of his horses here; they had broken down from the brutal treatment, hard riding in these severe conditions. They stood beside the remains of the camp fire which Lothar had smothered with sand. Kwi brushed away the sand and knelt to blow on the ashes, a tiny flame sprang up under his breath and he grinned like a pixie.

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