by Wilbur Smith
"The cart with our luggage has not arrived yet." Sarah peered back worriedly into the darkness of the dunes.
"It will be here in short order," Tom assured her. "Now, please wait here and do not take Yassie and go wandering off to heaven knows where." He embraced her and whispered in her ear, "And I would be mightily obliged if you do as I ask just this once."
"How can you think so poorly of your own wife?" she whispered back. "Off you go. When you return I shall be here, as good as gold."
"And twice as beautiful," he added.
The men scrambled aboard the lighters and seized the oars. The pull out to the ships was rough and wet, for the laden vessels were low in the water. The spray came over the bows, soaking them to the skin. When at last they rowed into the calmer water in the lee of the Gift of Allah there was no challenge from the ship. Tom swarmed up the rope ladder with Dorian and Mansur not far behind him. They drew their blades, ready to meet an attack from the VOC troops, but instead they found Captain Batula waiting at the entry-port.
"May the peace of God be upon you." He greeted his ship's owners with the deepest respect. Dorian embraced Batula warmly. They had ridden thousands of leagues together and sailed even further. They had fought side by side in the battles that had won a kingdom. They had shared bread and salt. Their friendship was a rock.
"Where are the guards, Batula?" Tom cut short their greetings. "The forecastle," Batula told him. "They are sodden with drink." Tom ran to the open companion way and jumped down. The cabin stank of brandy fumes and other less attractive odours. The VOC troopers and their corporal were lying comatose in puddles of their own vomit.
Tom sheathed his sword. "These gentlemen are quite happy for a while. Tie them up and let them enjoy their rest until we are ready to leave. Let's get the gold chests and the rest of the cargo on board."
Once the chests of gold coins were safely stowed in the main cabin, Tom left Dorian and Mansur to supervise the loading of the rest of the cargo. He took charge of the second lighter and they rowed across to the Maid of York. They found the VOC guards there in no better condition than their comrades on the Gift of Allah.
"Sunrise in eight hours, and we must be out of sight of land by then," Tom told Kumrah, the Arab captain. "Get this cargo on board as soon as you like." The crew flew at the task and as the last bale of goods came on board, Tom looked across at the other ship and saw that Dorian had sent a single lantern to the masthead of the Gift, the signal that the first lighter was unloaded and returning to the beach to pick up the women and the remaining cargo.
As soon as the bales were lashed down, Tom had his crew carry the VOC soldiers up from the forecastle and dump them, trussed like chickens, into the lighter lying alongside. By then some were regaining consciousness, but on account of their gags and bonds they were unable to express their indignation except by grunting and rolling their eyes.
They pushed off from the ship's side and Tom took the tiller and steered back towards the shore following Dorian's lighter. As they came on to the sand Tom saw Dorian's boat was already on the beach, but nobody was at work loading it. Instead an agitated knot of servants and crew was gathered at the foot of the dunes. Tom jumped down into the shallow water and waded to the shore. He ran up the beach and saw Dorian arguing with the head driver.
What has happened?" Then he saw that Sarah and Yasmini were missing. "Where are the women?" Tom called.
This idiot has let them go back." Dorian's tone was edged with desperation.
Go back?" Tom stopped dead and stared at him. "What do you mean, go back?"
The cart with their luggage broke down in the dunes. The axle snapped. Sarah and Yasmini have taken one of the empty wagons to retch the load."
"Those mad women!" Tom exploded, and then, with a great effort, brought his temper under control. "Very well, we must make the best of it. Mansur, take the prisoners up above the high-water mark. Do not untie them. Leave them there for Keyser to find in the morning. Then load these goods into the first lighter." He pointed at the remaining boxes and crates piled on the beach. "Send them out to the ships with the crew from the Maid of York. Thank the good Lord we have the gold chests on board already."
"What shall I do after that?" asked Mansur.
"You have charge here at the landing. Wait with the second boat. Be ready to load up and launch as soon as we return with the women." Mansur ran to obey, and Tom turned back to Dorian. "Come, brother, you and I will go to fetch the sweet chickens that have flown the coop."
They hurried to the horses. "Loosen your blade in its scabbard, and make sure both your pistols are charged, Dorry. I like this turn in the road not at all," Tom muttered, as they mounted. He took his own advice, loosened the blue sword in its scabbard, drew the pistols from the holsters on the front of his saddle, checked them, then thrust them back again.
"Come!" he said, and the two galloped back along the sandy track. Tom was expecting at any moment to come across the stranded cart, but when they rode down out of the dunes and started up through the paddocks towards the homestead they had still not found it.
"If the cart did not get very far," Dorian muttered, 'you cannot place much blame on the driver. It collapsed under that great mountain of female baggage."
"We should have packed it on the larger wagon."
"The ladies would not have it so," Dorian reminded him. "They did not want their treasures contaminated by sharing the ride with common goods."
"I see no call for levity in this, brother. Time runs us short." Tom looked up at the eastern sky, but there was no sign of the dawn.
There they are!" Ahead they saw the gleam of a lantern, and the dark shape of a wagon beside the lesser bulk of the capsized cart. They urged the horses to the top of their speed. As they came up Sarah stepped into the road, holding up the lantern, with Yasmini beside her.
"You are just in time to be too late, husband of mine." Sarah laughed. "Everything is safely repacked on board the wagon."
At that moment Tom saw the driver behind her brandish his long whip, flicking out the lash to fire it over the backs of the oxen. "Stay
your hand, Henny, you damned fool. They will hear your whiplash down in the castle. You will bring the colonel and all his men upon us like a pride of lions!"
Guiltily Henny lowered the great whip, and instead he and his voorloper ran alongside the oxen slapping their rumps and urging them to pull away. The wagon began lumbering along towards the start of the dunes. The harpsichord swayed and rocked on top of the load. Tom spared it one bitter glance. "May it fall and burst into a thousand pieces!" he grumbled.
"I choose to ignore that remark," Sarah said primly, 'for I know you did not mean it."
"Come up behind me, my sweeting." Tom leaned out of the saddle to lift her up. "I shall whisk you back to the beach and have you on board before you can blink an eye."
"I thank you, no, my own true heart. I prefer to stay with the wagon, to see that no further mishaps befall my baggage." In frustration Tom slapped the lead ox across its rump with the heavy sword scabbard.
They reached the first slope of the dunes and Tom looked back, and felt the first flare of alarm. There were lights showing around the homestead, which only minutes before had been in complete darkness.
"Look at that, brother," he muttered to Dorian, keeping his voice low. "What do you make of it?"
Dorian turned in the saddle. "Mounted men carrying lighted torches," Dorian exclaimed. "They are coming up the hill from the direction of the colony. A large troop, riding in column. They must be cavalry."
"Keyser!" Tom agreed. "Stephanus Keyser! It can be no other. Somehow he has got wind of what we are about."
"When he finds that we have left the homestead, he will come straight on to the landing on the shore."
"He will catch us before we can load this baggage into the boats," Tom agreed. "We must abandon the wagon, and run for the beach."
He spurred back to where Sarah and Yasmini were walking alongside
the span of oxen. They had cut sticks from the side of the road and were helping to drive the span onwards.
"Douse that lantern. Keyser has come," Tom shouted at Sarah and pointed back. "He will be after us in no time at all."
"Leave the wagon. We must run." Dorian was at Tom's side.
Sarah cupped her hand around the glass chimney of the lantern, blew out the flame. Then she turned on her husband. "You cannot be sure it is Keyser," she challenged him.
Who else would be leading a troop of cavalry to High Weald at this time of the night?"
"He will not know that we are heading for the beach."
"He may be fat, but that does not make him blind or stupid. Of course he will come after us."
Sarah looked ahead. "It's not far now. We can reach the shore before him."
"A loaded ox-wagon against a troop of cavalry? Don't be daft, woman."
"Then you must think of something," she said, with simple faith. "You always do."
"Yes, I have already thought of something. Get up behind me, and we will run as though the devil is breathing fire down our necks."
"Which he is!" said Dorian, and then to Yasmini, "Come, my darling, let us go at once."
"You may go, Yassie," Sarah said, 'but I am staying."
"I cannot leave you, Sarah, we have been together too long. I will stay with you," said Yasmini, and moved closer to her side. They presented the men with an unassailable front. Tom hesitated just a moment longer. Then he turned back to Dorian.
"If I have learned nothing else in my life, this I know. They will not be moved." He drew one of the pistols from its holster on the pommel of his saddle. "Look to your priming, Dorry." He turned back to Sarah and told her sternly, "You will get us all killed. Perhaps then you will be satisfied. Make all haste. When you reach the beach Mansur will be waiting with the lighter. Have it loaded and ready to shove off. When next you see us Dorry and I might be in somewhat of a hurry." He was about to ride off when a sudden thought occurred to him. He leaned over and lifted the spare trek chain from its bracket at the back end of the wagon. Every wagon carried this piece of equipment: it was there for use when the teams had to be double spanned.
"What do you mean to do with that?" Dorian demanded. "It will weigh down your mount."
"Perhaps nothing." Tom lashed the chain to the pommel of his saddle. "But then again, perhaps a great deal."
They left their two wives and the wagon after one last exhortation to make for the beach at their best speed, and galloped back up the hill. As they approached, the lights of the torches became brighter and the scene clearer. They reined in at the edge of the paddock, just below the homestead, and walked the horses into the deeper darkness below the outspread branches of the trees. They saw at once that these visitors were uniformed troopers. Many were dismounted and running in and out of the buildings, their sabres drawn, searching the rooms. Tom and Dorian could clearly make out their faces and features.
"There is Keyser," Dorian exclaimed, 'and, by the beard of the Prophet, that is Susie with him."
"So she is our Judas!" Tom's tone was grim. "What possible reason would she have to betray us?"
"Sometimes there is no accounting for the treacherous spite of those we have loved and trusted most," Dorian replied.
"Keyser won't waste much time searching for us in the homestead," Tom grunted, as he untied the riempie that secured the heavy trek chain to the front of his saddle. "Here is what you must do, Dorry."
Quickly he outlined his plan. Almost as soon as he started talking Dorian had grasped it all.
"The gate above the main kraal," Dorian agreed.
"When you have done, leave it open," Tom warned him.
"You do have a hellish mind, brother Tom." Dorian chuckled. "At times such as these, I am pleased that I am for you, not against."
"Go quickly," Tom said. "Keyser has already discovered that the stable is empty and the birds have flown." Tom mixed his metaphors cruelly.
Dorian left Tom under the trees and took the fork of the road that led down to the main cattle stockades above the lagoon. Tom noted that he had the good sense to keep to the verge so that the grass muffled his horse's hoofbeats. He watched until Dorian disappeared into the darkness, then switched his attention to what was happening around the buildings of High Weald.
The troopers had at last abandoned the search and were hurrying back to their horses. On the front stoep of the homestead Susie was cowering in front of Keyser, who was shouting at her. His angry tone carried to where Tom waited, but he was too distant to catch the words.
Perhaps Susie has been stricken by an attack of conscience, Tom thought, and watched Keyser lash the woman across the face with his riding crop. Susie fell to her knees. Keyser struck her again across her shoulders with a full overhead stroke of the whip. Susie screamed shrilly and pointed down the road to the dunes.
The cavalry troopers mounted hastily and fell in behind Keyser as he rode at the head of the column. By the light of the torches they carried, Tom watched them come down towards the paddock. The jingle of the harness and the clatter of the carbines and sabres in the scabbards grew louder. When they were so close that he could hear the breathing of their horses, Tom spurred his own horse out of the darkness into the middle of the road in front of them.
Keyser, you treacherous bag of pig's lard! A curse on your black heart and a pox on your shrivelled genitals!" he shouted. Keyser was so taken aback that he reined in his horse. The troopers behind him bumped
into each other. For a moment there was confusion in the column as the horses milled about.
"You will never take me, Keyser, you great round of cheese! Not on that donkey you call a horse."
Tom lifted the double-barrelled pistol and aimed as close over the top of the ostrich plumes in Keyser's hat as he dared. Keyser ducked as the ball buzzed past his ear.
Tom spun his horse and sent him racing down the road towards the kraal. Behind him he heard the thud of answering pistol shots, and Keyser's furious bellows: "Catch that man! After him! Alive if you can, but dead if you must. Either way, I want him!"
The troop of cavalry pounded after Tom. A blast of pellets from a cavalry carbine whirred around him like a covey of partridge rising from cover, and he lay flat on his horse's mane and lashed the loose end of the reins across its neck.
He looked back under his arm to judge the gap between himself and the pursuit, and when he saw that he was drawing ahead he slowed down a little into a firm gallop and let Keyser close in. The excited shouts and halloos of the troopers reassured Tom that they had him well in sight. Every few seconds there came the bang and thud of a pistol or carbine, and a few balls flew close enough for him to hear them pass. One struck his saddle only inches from his buttocks and went whining off into the night. If it had hit him, it would certainly have inflicted a wound that would have ended it all there and then.
Although he knew exactly where the gate was and he was looking ahead to find it, it still surprised him when it appeared suddenly out of the darkness ahead of him. He saw instantly that Dorian had done as he had asked and left it wide open. The hedge on each side of the opening was shoulder high, thick and dark with matted thorn. Tom had only a moment to steer away from the gateway, and aim at the hedge. As he gathered his mount for the jump with the pressure of his knees and his hands on the reins, from the corner of his eye he saw the glint of steel. Dorian had wrapped each end of the chain around the heavy wooden gate-posts and the links were stretched at waist height across the opening.
Tom let the horse under him judge the moment of take-off, moved his weight forward and helped him surge upwards. They brushed over the top of the hedge and landed well in hand on the far side. The instant Tom recovered his balance and steadied his mount he turned and looked back. One of the troopers had pulled well ahead of his comrades, and tried to follow Tom over the hedge. His horse shied and refused at the last moment, running out while his rider flew off his back