Wilbur Smith - C11 Blue Horizon

by C11 Blue Horizon(Lit)

  "What happened today was wrong."

  "I am to blame," he said.

  "There is no blame on either of us. We had been close to death. Our expressions of relief and gratitude towards each other were only natural in the circumstances. However, I said foolish things. You must forget my words. This is the last time we shall meet like this."

  "I shall fall in with your wishes."

  "Thank you, Your Highness,"

  Mansur switched to English. "Will you not at least treat me as a friend and call me Mansur, and not by the title that sits so uncomfortably on your lips?"

  She smiled, and answered in the same language. "If that is indeed your true name. It seems to me that you are a great deal more than you seem, Mansur."

  "I have promised to explain it to you, Verity."

  "Yes, indeed you have. That is why I have come." Then she added, as though she was trying to convince herself, "And for no other reason."

  She turned away and took a seat on a fallen stone block just large enough to accommodate her alone, and she gestured to another at a discreet distance. "Will you not be seated and make yourself at ease? It

  seems to me that your tale will take some telling." He sat, facing her. She leaned forward with one elbow on her knee and her chin in the palm of her hand. "You have all of my attention."

  He laughed and shook his head. "Where to begin? How will I ever make you believe me?" He paused to gather his thoughts. "Let me start with the most preposterous. If I can convince you of those parts of it, then the rest of the medicine will not be so difficult for you to swallow."

  She inclined her head in invitation, and he drew breath. "Like yours my English surname is Courtney. I am your cousin."

  She burst out laughing. "In all fairness, you did warn me. None the less 'tis bitter medicine that you are trying to dole out to me." She made as if to rise. "I see that this is but a prank, and you take me for the fool."

  "Wait!" he entreated. "Give me a fair hearing." She sank back on the stone. "Have you heard the names Thomas and Dorian Courtney?" The smile vanished from her lips and she nodded wordlessly. "What have you heard?"

  She thought for a moment, her expression troubled. Tom Courtney was a terrible rogue. He was my father's twin brother. He murdered his other brother, William, and had to fly from England. He died somewhere in the African wilderness. His grave is unmarked and his passing unmourned." "Is that all you know of him?

  "No, there is more," Verity admitted. "He is guilty of something even more heinous."

  "What is worse than the murder of your own brother?"

  Verity shook her head. "I know none of the details, only that it was so foul a deed that his name and his memory are blackened for ever. I do not know the full extent of his wickedness, but since we were children we have been forbidden to mention his name."

  "When you say we, Verity, who is the other person?"

  "My older brother, Christopher."

  "It pains me to be the one to tell you, but what you have been told about Tom Courtney is but a sad travesty of the truth," Mansur said, but before we discuss it further, please tell me what you know of Dorian Courtney."

  Verity shrugged. "Very little, for there is little to know. He was my father's youngest brother. No, that is not correct, he was my father's half-brother. In a tragic turn of events he fell into the hands of Arab pirates when he was but a child of ten or twelve years. Tom Courtney, that craven rogue, was to blame for his abduction and did nothing to Prevent it, or to save him. Dorian died of fever, neglect and a broken heart while he was a captive in the lair of the pirates."

  "How do you know all this?"

  "My father told us about it, and with my own eyes I have seen Dorian's grave in the old cemetery on Lamu island. I placed flowers upon it and said a prayer for his poor little soul. I take comfort in the words of Christ, "Suffer little children to come to me". I know he rests in the bosom of Jesus."

  In the moonlight Mansur saw a tear tremble on her bottom eyelid. "Please don't weep for little Dorian," he said quietly. "Today you rode out hawking in his company and you dined this very evening at his board."

  She recoiled so violently that the tear fell from her eyelid and slid down her cheek. She stared at him. "I do not understand."

  "Dorian is the Caliph."

  "If this be true, which it cannot be, we are cousins."

  "Bravo, coz! You have arrived at where we started our conversation."

  She shook her head. "It cannot be... yet there is something about you--' She broke off, then began again: "At our very first meeting I felt something, an affinity, a bond that I could not explain to myself." She looked distraught. "If all this is a jest, then it is a cruel one."

  "No jest, I swear it to you."

  "I need more than that to convince me."

  "There is more, a great deal more. You shall have as much of it as you can possibly desire. Shall I tell you first how Dorian was sold by the pirates to the Caliph al-Malik, and how the Caliph came to love him so that he adopted him as his own son? Shall I tell you how Dorian fell in love with his adoptive half-sister Princess Yasmini and they eloped together? How she bore him a son, whom they named Mansur? How Yasmini's half-brother Zayn al-Din became caliph after the death of al Malik? How, not a year past, Zayn al-Din sent an assassin to murder my mother Yasmini?"

  "Mansur!" Verity's face was as white as the marble Aphrodite's. "Your mother? Zayn al-Din murdered her?"

  "This is the main reason we have returned to Oman, my father and I. To avenge my mother's death, and to deliver our people from tyranny. But now I must tell you the truth about my uncle Tom. He is not the monster you paint him."

  "My father told us--'

  "I last saw Uncle Tom scarcely a year ago, hale and flourishing in Africa. He is a kind person, brave and true. He is married to your aunt Sarah, your mother Caroline's younger sister."

  "Sarah is dead!" Verity exclaimed.

  "She is very much alive. If you knew her you would love her as I do. She is so much like you, strong and proud. She even looks a great deal

  like you. She is tall and very beautiful." He smiled and added softly, "She has your nose." Verity touched her own and smiled faintly.

  "With such a nose as mine she cannot be so beautiful." The little smile faded. They told me my mother and father told me they were all dead, Dorian, Tom and Sarah..." Verity covered her eyes with one hand as she tried to assimilate what he had told her.

  "Tom Courtney made two mistakes in his life. He killed his brother William in a fair fight, defending himself when Black Billy tried to murder him."

  "I heard that Tom stabbed William while he slept." She dropped her hand and stared at him.

  "Tom's other mistake was to father your brother Christopher. That is the reason your mother and father hated him so."

  "No." She leaped to her feet. "My brother is no bastard! My mother is no whore!"

  "Your mother conceived in love. That is not harlotry," Mansur said, and she sank down again. She reached across the gap between them and laid her hand on his arm. "Oh, Mansur! This is too much for me to endure. Your words tear my world apart."

  "I do not tell you this to torment you, Verity, but for both our sakes."

  "I do not understand."

  "I have fallen in love with you," Mansur said. "You asked who I am, and because I love you I must tell you."

  "You delude yourself and me," she whispered. "Love is not something that falls like manna from the sky, full formed and complete. It grows between two persons--'

  "Tell me you feel nothing, Verity."

  She would not reply. Instead she sprang to her feet and looked to the night sky as if seeking escape. "The dawn is breaking. My father must not learn I have been with you. I must go back to my tent at once."

  Answer my question before you go," he insisted. "Tell me you feel nothing and I will trouble you no further."

  "How can I tell you that when I know not what I feel? I owe you my life, but beyond that I
cannot yet tell."

  "Verity! Give me one small grain of hope."

  "No, Mansur. I must go! Not another word."

  Will you come to meet me here again, tomorrow evening?"

  "You do not know my father--' She stopped herself. "I can promise you nothing."

  There is so much more that I must tell you."

  She laughed shortly, then stopped herself. "Have you not told me sufficient to last me a lifetime?"

  "Will you come?"

  "I will try. But only to hear the rest of your story." She snatched up the lamp and pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, covering her face, and ran from the temple.

  In the dawn the Caliph rode out with his guests and all his entourage to fly the falcons. They killed three times before the heat came down and they were forced back into the shelter of the tents.

  During the noonday heat Sir Guy spoke to the council, explaining to them how he could save Oman from the tyrant, and from the clutches of the Turk and the Mogul. "You must place yourselves under the suzerainty of the English monarch and his Company."

  The desert sheikhs listened and argued among themselves. They were free men, and proud. At last Mustapha Zindara asked for all of them, "We have driven out the jackal from our sheepfold. Shall we now allow the leopard to take his place? If this English monarch wants us as his subjects, will he come to us so that we can see him ride and wield the lance? Will he lead us into battle as al-Salil has done?"

  The English king will hold his shield over you, and protect you from your enemies." Sir Guy avoided a direct answer.

  "And what is the price in gold of his protection?" Mustapha Zindara asked.

  Al-Salil had seen that Mustapha's temper was rising like the heat outside the tent. He looked across at Verity and said gently, "I ask your father for his indulgence. We must discuss all he has told us, and I must explain to my people what it means, and set their fears at rest." He turned to his councillors. "The heat has passed and the huntsmen have found much game on the high ground across the river. We shall talk more on the morrow."

  Mansur found that Verity was avoiding him assiduously. She would not even glance in his direction. Whenever he came close to her she turned all her attention on her father or the Caliph. He saw how she looked on Dorian in a changed light now that she knew he was her uncle. She stared into his face and watched his eyes when he spoke to her. She followed his every gesture with attention, yet she would not even glance in Mansur's direction. During the afternoon's hunt she would not allow him to separate her from her

  father, but rode close at Sir Guy's side. In the end Mansur was forced to contain himself until the evening meal. He was not hungry and it seemed interminable. Only once did he catch Verity's eyes and, with a tilt of his head, asked a silent question of her. She arched an eyebrow enigmatically, and gave him no reply.

  When at last the Caliph dismissed the company, Mansur escaped to his own tent with relief. He waited until all was quiet, for he knew that even if she intended to keep the assignation she would not move before then. That night there was a restless feeling in the camp with men passing back and forth, loud voices and singing. It was well after midnight before Mansur could leave his own tent, and start for the temple. Istaph was waiting for him beside the stone doorway. "Is all well?" Mansur asked.

  Istaph came closer and whispered, There are others abroad this night."

  "Who are they?"

  "Two men came out of the desert while the Caliph and his guests were at dinner. They hid themselves in the horse lines When the English effendi and his daughter left the company, the girl did not go to her own tent as she did last night. Instead she went with her father to his. Then the two strangers came secretly to them."

  They are set on mischief?" Mansur demanded, with horror. Was Verity to die as his own mother had, under the assassin's blade?

  "No!" Kumrah assured him quickly. "I heard the effendi greet them when they entered and they are together still."

  "You are certain you have never seen these men before tonight?"

  They are strangers. I do not know them."

  "How were they dressed?"

  They wore Arab robes, but only one was an Omani."

  "How did the other look?"

  Kumrah shrugged. "I saw him only for a moment. It is not possible to tell much from a man's face alone, but he was a ferengi."

  A European?" Mansur exclaimed, with surprise. "Are you sure?"

  Istaph shrugged again. "I am not sure, but so it seemed to me."

  They are still in the tent of the consul? Is the woman with them?" Mansur demanded.

  They were all still there when I came to meet you here."

  Come with me, but we must not be seen," Mansur said decisively.

  There are watchmen only on the outer perimeter of the camp," Istaph answered.

  We know where they are. We can avoid them." Mansur turned back and went quietly down the narrow alley, the way he had come. He made

  as if he was returning to his own tent, then ducked behind a pile of ancient masonry and waited there until he was certain they had not been seen or followed. Then he and Istaph crept up silently behind Sir Guy's pavilion. There was light within, and Mansur could hear voices.

  He recognized Verity's. She was speaking to her father, clearly translating, "He says that the rest will arrive within the week."

  "A week!" Sir Guy's voice was louder. They should have been ready at the beginning of the month."

  "Father, lower your voice. You will be heard throughout the entire camp."

  For a while their voices sank to a soft mumble and they spoke with suppressed urgency. Then another voice spoke in Arabic. Even though it was so low and muted that he could not make out the words, Mansur knew he had heard it before, but where and when he could not be sure.

  In a barely audible whisper Verity translated for Sir Guy, and his voice rose again sharply. "He must not even think of it now. Tell him it could dash all our plans. His private concerns must wait until afterwards. He must restrain his pugnacious instincts until the main business has been taken care of."

  Mansur strained his ears but could catch only snatches of what followed. At one stage Sir Guy said, "We must sweep up the whole shoal in our net. We must not allow a single fish to slip through."

  Then, abruptly, Mansur heard the strangers take leave of him. Once again the familiar Arab voice tugged at his memory. This time it whispered the formal words of farewell.

  I know him, Mansur thought. He was certain of this, but still could not place him. The second stranger spoke for the first time. Istaph had been correct. This was a European speaking Arabic with a German or guttural Dutch accent. He could not remember having heard it before. He ignored it, and tried to concentrate instead on exchanges between Sir Guy and the Arab. There was silence, and he realized that the strangers had left Sir Guy's pavilion as quietly as they had come. He jumped up from where he was crouched and ran to the corner of the tent wall. Then he had to shrink back, for not ten paces away Sir Guy and Verity were standing at the entrance talking quietly and looking in the direction in which their visitors had gone. If Mansur and Istaph tried to follow, Sir Guy would spot them. Father and daughter remained in the doorway for some minutes longer before they went back inside. By this time the strange visitors had vanished among the closely huddled pavilions of the encampment.

  Mansur turned to Istaph, who was close behind him. "We must not

  let them get away. Search the far side of the camp, down towards the river, and see if they went that way. I shall take the northern perimeter."

  He broke into a run. Something about the stranger's voice had filled him with a sense of foreboding. I have to find out who that Arab is, he thought.

  When he reached the last ruined buildings he saw two of the night watchmen standing together in the shadows cast by the wall. They were leaning on their jezails and talking quietly. He called to them, "Did two men pass this way?"

  They recognized his voice
and ran to him. "No, Highness, no man passed us." It seemed that they had been awake and alert, so Mansur had to believe them.

  "Shall we raise the alarm?" one demanded.

  "No," Mansur said. "It was nothing. Return to your post."

  The strangers must have gone down towards the river. He ran back through the dark camp and, in the moonlight, saw Istaph running back towards him along the causeway. He sprinted to meet him and called to him while still far off, "Have you found them?"

  "This way, Highness." Istaph's voice was harsh with exertion. Together they raced down the hillside, then Istaph turned off the path and led Mansur towards a clump of thorn trees.