Whispers in the Sand

by Barbara Erskine

  ‘I have not come to be entertained,’ Louisa retorted. ‘And Mohammed will stay here at my side if he so wishes. He is the friend of my friend.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Why did you decide not to go back to the cave?’

  He smiled. ‘Because I was informed that the vial was no longer there. You tried to trick me, Mrs Shelley.’

  ‘The thing you wanted so badly you were prepared to kill a man to get it!’ Her voice was very even.

  There was a slight moan from Katherine.

  ‘Oh yes, Mrs Shelley. I was prepared to kill a man.’ He smiled. ‘Though in the event I didn’t have to. The snake did it for me.’

  She laughed. ‘The snake did it for you!’ she echoed. ‘Have you told your friends here just how badly you wanted my little scent bottle? And have you told them what you have done to get hold of it? Have you told them how evil you are?’

  ‘Oh Louisa!’ Katherine’s groan was anguished. ‘Please, my dear, don’t.’

  ‘Don’t try and stop me telling you what happened!’ Louisa turned on her for only a second, but the force of her words made Katherine shrink back on her cushions. ‘This man, who entertains you as a friend, is an evil fiend, a practitioner of the black arts. You are not safe on this boat. No one is!’

  She could see the faces of the musicians and Carstairs’ crew all turned towards her. She didn’t know how many of them spoke English but they all looked afraid. ‘You are in danger!’ she shouted at them. ‘Don’t you understand?’

  ‘Louisa, my dear.’ David Fielding put his hand on her arm. ‘We all know you are upset. With good cause. But this will not help. What happened out there in the desert was no one’s fault. It was a tragic accident. People are being killed by snakes and scorpions all the time out here.’

  ‘No!’ Louisa shook her head. ‘This was no accident. Hassan knew about snakes and scorpions. That was his job! To escort me and keep me safe.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Don’t you see? He did it. As surely as if he had plunged that knife into Hassan’s heart a second time!’ She flung out her arm towards Carstairs.

  Carstairs shook his head slowly. ‘These are the imaginings of an overheated brain.’

  ‘Are they?’ She dashed the tears out of her eyes. ‘So, you don’t want the bottle?’

  He tensed suddenly. She saw his eyes grow watchful. ‘You know I am very anxious to acquire your scent bottle, Mrs Shelley. I have offered to buy it from you. I told you that you could name your price.’

  ‘All right. My price is Hassan! If your magic is so powerful, you can bring him back to life!’ She took another step towards him and felt Mohammed shadowing her once more. ‘So, is your magic that powerful, Lord Carstairs?’ She was smiling at him wildly.

  He narrowed his eyes. ‘You know it is not. No one can bring someone back from the dead.’

  ‘What, not the priests that guard the bottle?’ She folded her arms. ‘I have seen them. They have power. And were they not dead themselves?’

  His eyes were heavily lidded and she couldn’t tell whether or not he was looking at her from under his lashes. He was so still he appeared to have stopped breathing. ‘The priests are not living beings. They are still dead, even when they walk this earth.’

  There was a sharp intake of breath behind him and Louisa saw eyes rounding amongst the cluster of men on the deck near them. Some of them at least were following the conversation.

  ‘So, you cannot pay my price?’

  ‘I have offered you money, Louisa. Any amount you would like to name.’ His voice was growing impatient.

  She shook her head. ‘Money is of no use to me.’

  ‘Then anything else that it is in my power to give. Jewels. Land.’ He frowned. ‘I have already offered you my title and my own hand!’

  There was a small cry from Venetia behind him. ‘Roger! You promised me!’

  He ignored her; his eyes were fixed directly on Louisa’s face. ‘Well, what is it you want?’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t think there is anything you can give me that I want, my lord.’ Her voice dropped suddenly to a whisper. ‘Except revenge.’

  Venetia had thrown herself sobbing towards Katherine, who leant across to take her sister-in-law in her arms. At Louisa’s last words, which had somehow cut through Venetia’s tears, they both turned towards her and fell suddenly silent.

  The boat was completely quiet. The only sound was the gentle rustle of reeds along the bank. Louisa held his gaze. Then at last she nodded. ‘I have the bottle here,’ she said quietly. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her dress and drew out the silk-wrapped parcel.

  His eyes widened hungrily. ‘And you are going to give it to me!’ He smiled in triumph.

  She looked down at her hand thoughtfully. ‘No,’ she said at last. She glanced up at him again. ‘No, I’m not going to give it to you. I am going to give it to the gods you claim to serve. You will never set eyes on this again, my Lord Carstairs. Never!’

  With one quick movement she hurled the bottle as hard as she could out into the darkness. There was a pause as every person on the boat held their breath, then a small splash far out in the river.

  ‘No!’ Carstairs threw himself towards the rail. He hung over it, staring frantically at the water. ‘Do you realise what you have done?’ He turned suddenly and his eyes were blazing with rage. ‘Do you? Do you realise what you’ve done?’ He caught her by the shoulders and shook her hard.

  ‘Hey! Wait! Take your hands off her!’ David Fielding grabbed his arm as Mohammed stepped forward, his face set. He had his own knife in his hand.

  ‘No!’ Katherine let out a scream. ‘No! Someone is going to get hurt! David, be careful! Let her go, Roger. What’s the use? It’s gone!’ She pulled herself to her feet. ‘For pity’s sake! This has all gone on long enough. Louisa, I think you should go. You’ve made your point!’ She broke off suddenly and clutched at her stomach with a groan.

  ‘Kate?’ David Fielding’s cry was anguished. ‘My love, what is it?’

  She straightened up, her face white, and staggered back to the cushions. ‘I’m all right.’ She was breathing heavily. ‘Louisa, you should go.’

  Louisa had stepped back towards the rail, tearing herself away from Carstairs’ restraining hands. ‘I’m going.’ She threw the words over her shoulders as she turned to her escort. ‘Mohammed, will you help me into the boat –’

  Her words were interrupted by a piercing scream. Katherine had doubled up once more. ‘My baby! It’s my baby!’ She tried to stand, reaching frantically towards her husband.

  Louisa stopped at the top of the ladder and turning round she saw with horror a red stain spreading on Katherine’s skirt. For a moment nobody moved. Then Venetia put her hand to her head and fainted back onto the silken cushions. No one took any notice of her. Louisa stared round the assembled men in horror. They were paralysed, staring at the agonised woman and at the pool of blood appearing on the deck of the boat below her skirts.

  ‘Carry her below into a cabin!’ She stepped forward, pushing Carstairs aside. ‘Now! Quickly!’

  ‘We’ll go back to the Lotus!’ David Fielding looked round wildly for his own servants. ‘She should be there.’

  ‘There’s no time. Take her below, David. My lord,’ she turned to Carstairs with a contemptuous stare. ‘See that the other men leave the boat. Presumably they can go across to the Lotus. Mohammed, will you go and fetch Lady Forrester to help me? Venetia, pull yourself together. You will have to stay to help, too. Do it!’ She shouted at the stunned faces around her as Katherine let out another scream. The sound sent the men scurrying in all directions and eventually it was Carstairs himself who pushed aside David, who seemed paralysed with shock, picked Katherine up and carried her towards the saloon where he laid her on the cushioned divan.

  Coming face to face with Louisa who had followed them as he turned away from the sobbing moaning woman, he gave her one quick cold glance then he pushed past her and went back out onto the deck.

&nbs
p; Venetia, white as a sheet and tearful was standing in the doorway, clearly terrified of entering the cabin. ‘Tell someone to heat water for us,’ Louisa called, ‘and find some clean sheets.’

  Katherine let out another groan as David appeared in the doorway, his face as white as paper. ‘What can I do?’

  Louisa glanced up at him. ‘Go and help Venetia bring water.’

  She turned back to Katherine and with soothing words began to try and make her more comfortable. Somehow she managed to help her sit up so she could undo the impossibly tight gown and draw it up over the woman’s head before settling her back on the pillows. Katherine’s fear was contagious. Louisa could feel herself fighting down waves of panic as gently she pushed back the woman’s hair and then bundled her bloodstained clothing out of sight. ‘You’ll be all right, Katherine. You’ll be fine.’ She took her hands and held them firmly.

  ‘And the baby? What about the baby? It’s not due for two months!’ Katherine burst into tears again. ‘It’s David’s fault. He wouldn’t listen. He would insist on coming to this God-forsaken country. I begged him not to, but he wanted to bring Venetia. He wanted to try and find a man for her.’ She broke off with a catch in her breath before she could say any more, wailing with pain.

  Louisa was still holding her hands tightly. As the next contraction started to build she could feel the clutch of Katherine’s fingers tighter and tighter until her own bones were screaming in agony. There was a movement in the doorway. ‘Here are the sheets.’ Venetia stepped into the cabin and pushed them at her, averting her face from the woman on the divan.

  ‘Keep them for later. Fetch a bowl of warm water and a wash cloth so we can sponge her.’ Louisa glanced up at her. She was sorry for Venetia suddenly. No unmarried woman should see such a sight, especially if the baby was going to die. She bit her lip. Katherine was panting, quiet now between contractions, her face tear-stained and white. Louisa leant forward to sponge her forehead but already another pain was coming. ‘It’s your fault!’ Suddenly Katherine was screaming in her face. ‘If you hadn’t come over and picked a fight with Carstairs this wouldn’t have happened!’ She clutched Louisa’s hands more tightly. ‘You shouldn’t have come! Why did you?’ She was panting frantically, sweat pouring down her face and body.

  When the pain had passed Louisa heard a noise at the door. She glanced round to see Mohammed hovering on the threshold. He had turned his head away to avoid looking directly into the saloon. ‘Lady Forrester will not come, Sitt Louisa. She says she knows nothing of childbirth. Maleesh! No matter! I have brought a woman from the village who is wise in these things.’

  Behind him a heavily veiled woman peered anxiously into the cabin. She had huge dark eyes which glanced shyly round above the veil and rested on Katherine with a frown of concern.

  Louisa smiled at her, remembering Hassan telling her that the wise women of the villages often had great knowledge of simple medicine and midwifery.

  Mohammed whispered to the woman quickly and she slipped into the cabin past him and approached Louisa with a bow.

  ‘Do you speak English?’ Louisa asked.

  The woman shrugged. She was carrying a small basket which she put on the table near them.

  Katherine grabbed Louisa’s hand. ‘Don’t let her come near me!’ She screamed. ‘Dear God, I’m going to die and you bring me a native! Where is David? Oh God!’

  With the door closed behind her the woman removed her cloak and veil. She was older than had first appeared and as she looked at Katherine she took stock of the situation at once. She nodded and moving forward placed a cool hand on Katherine’s belly.

  Katherine shrank back but the woman nodded and smiled.

  ‘Good. Good,’ she said. ‘Baby good. Inshallah!’

  ‘Send her away!’ Katherine pushed at the woman’s hand, but already the pains were coming again.

  When the cabin door opened a few minutes later the three women standing around Katherine looked up. At first they could not see who stood there. Silhouetted against the night sky the figure was tall and dark and indistinguishable from the night around it. It was the village woman who recognised him first and she turned away with a moan, trying to hide her face.

  ‘Roger? Is that you? What is it?’ Venetia stood away from her sister-in-law with obvious relief as the village woman reached for her scarf and pulled it over her head and around her face.

  ‘I have brought help.’ He stooped and peered into the cabin. ‘I have invoked the priest of Sekhmet. She is goddess of healing and with his help she will grant this woman succour!’ His voice rang round the cabin.

  Katherine groaned. ‘Get him away from me! Don’t let him near me!’ Her voice was hoarse from screaming. She clung to Louisa. ‘Don’t let him come in!’

  ‘You heard her! Don’t come in. Keep your foul magic away from us!’ Louisa looked up at him. ‘You are not wanted in here!’

  ‘Not even to save her life?’ The sneering voice echoed round the room. ‘Believe me, madam, only magic can save her!’

  ‘Your kind of magic can do nothing for her! It is destructive, murderous magic!’ Louisa shouted.

  ‘Do you dare take the chance?’ The voice was becoming more and more mocking. ‘I think you had better let me come in.’

  ‘No!’ Katherine’s sobs became ever more hysterical. ‘No, please, make him go away! David!’ Her final scream was so shrill that the village woman forgot her fear of Carstairs. She placed her hand on Katherine’s stomach and uttered a couple of incomprehensible instructions to Louisa, followed by a sequence of far more easily understood gestures as she tried to pull Katherine to her feet and indicated that she should squat, ready for the birth.

  It was left to Venetia to push Carstairs out of the room and onto the deserted deck of the boat to join David who had been standing by himself in the stern. A few minutes later both heard clearly the feeble cry of a baby. At the sound David turned. ‘Was that it? Was that my baby?’ He was shaking.

  Carstairs shrugged. Standing away from him he made his way across the roof of the cabin to the bows. There he stood and raised his arms to the sky.

  By the time David was allowed into the cabin it had been tidied, the woman’s basket with the ointments of fenugreek and honey, acacia, birthwort and tamarisk had been repacked and Katherine was lying on the divan propped on pillows, the tiny baby lying between her breasts. He looked at it in alarm.

  ‘It’s all right, David.’ Katherine was touching the little head with one finger. ‘He’s here to keep warm. He’s very small, but Mabrooka says he is all right.’ She smiled at the village woman, who bowed. Already she was drawing her veil around her face once again. ‘You must give her some baksheesh, David,’ Katherine went on. Her voice was very weak. ‘She probably saved my life.’

  Louisa crept out on deck, leaving them alone and took a deep breath of the night air. It must be nearly dawn.

  A sound behind her made her swing round. Carstairs was standing there, arms folded. At the sight of him, still dressed in his black robe with its red and gold sash, his head swathed in the elaborate turban she felt a sudden revulsion run through her. His gaze swept over her in disdainful silence, taking in the blood on her gown, her dishevelled hair, her exhaustion and she felt her anger flare at once. ‘Don’t you want to know how they are?’

  He shrugged. ‘No doubt you are about to tell me.’

  ‘They are both safe and well.’

  ‘Inshallah!’ He inclined his head slightly.

  ‘And now I shall leave.’

  ‘Please do.’ He turned away without another word.

  She made her way towards the stern of the boat where Mohammed was sitting cross-legged waiting for her. Beside him the mooring line from the sandal which bobbed behind the dahabeeyah was tied to the rail. He rose as she approached and bowed to her. ‘Sitt Fielding is well?’

  ‘She is well, Mohammed, thanks to you. And the baby boy, too. Will you take me across to the Ibis and then come back for Mabrooka, p
lease?’ She rubbed her eyes wearily. ‘It is nearly day, and I am very tired.’

  He turned to pull in the dinghy, then suddenly he let out a cry. Coiled on the boards near him was a large snake. As he moved, it hissed. It lifted its head, the hood extended sideways, and swayed its neck from side to side, its eyes on his face.

  ‘No!’ Louisa stared at it for a moment, then she turned to Carstairs. ‘Call it off! Are you so evil you would kill another innocent man?’

  He was smiling. ‘I did not summon it, Mrs Shelley, I assure you.’

  ‘Your assurances are worth nothing.’ She stepped towards the snake, her heart in her mouth. ‘Mohammed, get in the sandal.’

  ‘No, lady. I cannot leave you.’ His face was chalk-white.

  ‘Do it! It will not hurt me.’ She stamped her foot and the snake hissed.

  Mohammed moved cautiously backwards a step at a time as Louisa reached out for Venetia’s discarded parasol, lying near her on a chair. The snake was watching her now. ‘Call it off, my lord.’ She smiled. ‘Would you have me die too, so I can join Hassan?’

  He shook his head slowly. ‘I did not call it!’

  ‘Then your powers are growing feeble. And they are more feeble still if you cannot dematerialise the evil concoction of your own brain!’ She was aware of Mohammed behind her, slowly climbing up onto the side of the boat and over onto the top step of the little ladder. As he let himself down into the dinghy he whispered to her. ‘Please, Sitt Louisa. Please. Now save yourself.’

  Louisa gave a small smile. ‘So, Lord Carstairs. Will you send me into paradise with Hassan?’

  Carstairs gave a hiss. As the snake wavered and turned towards him Louisa ran to the side of the boat and scrambled over onto the steps. Within seconds she was in the dinghy and Mohammed was paddling frantically for the Ibis.

  Behind them they could hear Carstairs’ bitter laughter ringing out in the darkness.

  Halfway across the river Mohammed rested on the oar. ‘Sitt Louisa. I have something for you.’ He fumbled in his robe and drew out something small and white. He passed it over to her. ‘When I rowed to fetch Lady Forrester I saw it floating in the water. The silk you wrapped it in had caught the air. It never sank.’