Power of the Sword c-10

by Wilbur Smith

  Come on the mail boat yesterday, madam, he boasted.

  Hadji, you are a magician, she applauded. Scotch kippers were Blaine's favourite breakfast. You are going to do them his way, aren't you? Blaine's way was simmered in milk, and Hadji looked pained at the impropriety of the question as he turned back to his stove.

  For Centaine it was a marvelous game of make-believe, playing wife, pretending that Blaine truly belonged to her.

  So with a sharp eye she watched Miriam grind the coffee beans and Khalil finish sponging Blaine's grey pinstripe suit and begin to put a military gleam on his shoes before she left them and crept back into the darkened bedroom.

  She felt quite breathless as she hovered beside the bed and studied his features. He still had that effect on her even after all this time.

  I am more faithful than any wife, she gloated. More dutiful, more loving, more, His arm shot out so suddenly that she squealed with fright as he plucked her down beside him and flicked the sheet over her.

  You were awake all along, she wailed. Oh, you awful man, I can never trust you. They could still, on occasion, drive each other into that mindless frenzy, those writhing sensual marathons that exploded at the end in a great burst of light and colour like the Turner on the wall before them. But more often it had become as it was this morning, a fortress of love, solid and impregnable. They left it with reluctance, coming apart slowly, lingeringly, as the day filled the room with gold and they heard the clink of Hadji's breakfast dishes on the terrace beyond the shutters.

  She brought him his robe, full-length brocaded China silk royal blue lined in crimson with a belt of embroidered seed pearls and velvet lapels. She had chosen it because it was so outlandish, so different from his usual severe style of dress.

  I wouldn't wear it in front of anybody else in the world, he had told her, holding it gingerly at arm's length, when she presented it to him on his birthday.

  If you do, you'd better not let me catch you at it! she warned, but after the first shock he had come to enjoy wearing it for her.

  Hand in hand they went out onto the terrace and Hadji and Miriam beamed with delight and bowed them to their seats at the table in the morning sunlight.

  With a rapid but steely survey, Centaine made sure everything was perfect, from the roses in the Lalique vase to the snowy linen and the Faberg6 jug of silver gilt and crystal filled with freshly squeezed grapefruit juice, before she opened the morning paper and began to read to him.

  Always in the same order: the headlines and then the parliamentary reports, waiting for him to comment on each, adding her own ideas, and then going on to the financial pages and stock exchange reports, and finally to the sports pages with special emphasis on any mention of polo.

  Oh, I see you spoke yesterday: "a forceful reply from the minister without portfolio", they say. And Blaine smiled as he lifted a fillet off his kipper.

  Hardly forceful, he demurred. "Pissed off" better describes it. What's this about secret societies? A bit of a flap over these militant organizations, inspired it would seem by the charming Herr Hitler and his gang of political thugs. Anything in it? Centaine sipped at her coffee. She still couldn't get her stomach to accept these English breakfasts.

  You seem to have dismissed the whole thing rather lightly. Then she looked up at him with narrowing eyes. You were covering up, weren't you? She knew him so well, and he grumed guiltily at her.

  Don't miss a thing, do you? Can you tell me? Shouldn't really. He frowned, but she had never betrayed his trust. We are very worried indeed, he admitted. in fact the Ou Baas considers it the most serious threat since the 1914 rebellion when De Wet called out his commandos to fight for the Kaiser. The whole thing is a political nettle, and a potential mine-field. He paused, and she knew there was more, but she waited quietly for him to make up his mind to tell her. 'All right, he decided. The Ou Baas has ordered me to head a commission of enquiry, cabinet level and confidential, into the Ossewa Brandwag, which is the most extreme and flourishing of them all.

  Worse than the Broederbond even. Why you, Blaine? It's a nasty one, isn't it? Yes, it's a nasty one, and he picked me as a non-Afrikaner.

  The impartial judge!

  Of course, I've heard of the OB. There has been talk for years but nobody seems to know much. Extreme right-wing nationalists, anti-Semitic, anti-black, blaming all the ills of their world on perfidious Albion, secret blood oaths and midnight rallies, a sort of Neanderthal boy scout movement with Mein Kampf as its inspiration. I haven't yet read Mein Kampf. Everyone is talking about it. is there an English or French translation? Not officially published, but I have a Foreign Office translation. It's a rag-bag of nightmares and obscenities, a manual of naked aggression and bigotry. I would lend you my copy but it is appallingly bad literature and the sentiments would sicken you. He may not be a great writer, Centaine conceded. 'But, Blaine, whatever else he has done, Hitler has put Germany on its feet again after the disaster of the Weimar Republic.

  Germany is the only country in the world with full employment and a booming economy. My shares in Krupp and Farben have almost doubled in the last nine months. She stopped as she saw his expression. Is something wrong, Blaine? He had laid his knife and fork down and was staring at her.

  You have shares in the German armaments industry? he asked quietly, and she nodded.

  The best investment I have made since gold went off She broke off; they had never mentioned that again.

  I have never asked you to do anything for me, have I? he asked, and she considered that carefully.

  No, you haven't, ever. Well, I'm asking you now. Sell your shares in German armarnents. She looked puzzled. Why, Blaine? 'Because it is like investing in the propagation of cancer, or like financing Genghis Khan's campaigns. She did not reply, but her expression went blank and her eyes went out of focus, crossing into a slightly myopic squint. The first time he had seen that happen he had been alarmed; it had taken him some time to realize that when she squinted like that she was involved in mental arithmetic, and it had fascinated him to see how quickly she made her calculations.

  Her eyes flicked back into focus and she smiled agreement.

  On yesterday's prices, I'll show a profit of a hundred and twenty-six thousand pounds. It was time to sell anyway. I'll cable my London broker as soon as the post office opens. Thank you, my love. Blaine shook his head sorrowfully.

  But I do wish you'd made your profit somewhere else. You may be misjudging the situation, cheri, she suggested tactfully. Hitler may not be as bad as you think he is. He doesn't have to be as bad as I think he is, Centaine.

  He only has to be as bad as he says he is in Mein Kampf to qualify for the chamber of horrors. Blaine took a mouthful of his kipper and closed his eyes with mild ecstasy. She watched him with a pleasure almost equal to his own. He swallowed, opened his eyes, and declared the subject closed with a wave of his fork.

  Enough horrors for such a splendid morning. He smiled at her. 'Read me the sports pages, woman! Centaine rustled the pages portentously and then composed herself to read aloud, but suddenly the colour drained from her face and she swayed in her seat.

  Blaine dropped his knife and fork with a clatter and jumped up to steady her. What is it, darling? He was desperately alarmed and almost as pale as she was. She shrugged his hands away and stared at the open newspaper which trembled in her grip.

  Blaine moved quickly behind her, and scanned the page over her shoulder. There was an article on the previous weekend's racing at Kenilworth. Centaine's entry, a good stallion named Bonheur, had lost the feature race by a short head, but that could not have occasioned her distress.

  Then he saw that she was looking at the foot of the page and he followed her gaze to a quarter-column photograph of a boxer, in shorts and vest, facing the camera in a formal pose, bare fists raised and a grim expression on his handsome features. Centaine had never evinced the slightest interest in boxing, and Blaine was puzzled. He read the heading of the article which accompani
ed the photograph: FEAST OF FISTICUFFS CLASSY FIELD FOR INTERvARSITY CHAMPIONS, which did nothing to alleviate his puzzlement. He glanced at the footnote beneath the photograph: The Lion of the Kalahari, Manfred De La Rey, the Challenger for the InterVarsity Light Heavyweight Belt. Hard pounding ahead., Manfred De La Rey. Blaine said the name softly, trying to remember where last he had heard it. Then his expression cleared and he squeezed Centaine's shoulders.

  Manfred De La Rey! The boy you were looking for in Windhoek. Is this him?

  Centaine did not look round, but she nodded jerkily.

  What is he to you, Centaine? She was shaken into an emotional turmoil; otherwise she might have answered different But now it was out before she could bite down on the words. He's my son. My bastard son. Blaine's hands dropped from her shoulders and she heard the sharp hissing intake of his breath.

  I must be mad! Her reaction was immediate, and she thought, I should never have told him. Blaine will never understand. He'll never forgive me. She dared not look round at the shock and accusation she knew she would find on his face. She dropped her head and cupped her hands over her eyes.

  I've lost him, she thought. Blaine is too upright, too virtuous to accept it. Then his hands touched her again, and they lifted her to her feet and turned her gently to face him.

  I love you, he said simply, and her tears choked her and she flung herself against his chest and held him with all her strength.

  Oh Blaine, you are so good to me. If you want to tell me about it, I'm here to help you. If you'd rather not talk, then I understand.

  There is just one thing, whatever it was, whatever you did, makes no difference to me and my feelings for you.

  I want to tell you. She fought back her tears of relief and looked up at him. I've never wanted to keep secrets from you. I've wanted to tell you for years now, but I am a coward. You are many things, my love, but never a coward. He seated her again and drew his own chair close so that he could hold her hand while she talked.

  Now tell me,he commanded.

  It's such a long story, Blaine, and you have a cabinet meeting at nine. Affairs of state can wait, he said. Your happiness is the Most important thing in the world. So she told him, from the time that Lothar De La Rey had rescued her to the discovery of the H'ani diamond mine and the birth of Manfred in the desert.

  She held nothing back: her love for Lothar, the love of a lonely forsaken girl for her rescuer. She explained how it had changed to bitter hatred when she discovered that Lothar had murdered the old Bushman woman who was her foster mother, and how that hatred had focused on Lothar's child that she was carrying in her womb, and how she had refused even to look upon the newborn infant but had made the father take it from the childbed still wet from the act of birth.

  It was wicked, she whispered. But I was confused and afraid, afraid of the rejection of the Courtney family if I brought a bastard amongst them. Oh, Blaine, I have regretted it ten thousand times, and hated myself as much as I hated Lothar De La Rey. Do you want to go to Johannesburg to see him again? Blaine asked. We could fly up to watch the championships. The idea startled Centaine. We? she asked. 'We, Blaine? I couldn't let you go alone. Not to something so disturbing. But can you get away? What about Isabella? Your need is far more important now, he told her simply.

  Do you want to go? Oh yes, Blaine. Oh yes please. She dabbed away the last tear with her lace table napkin, and he saw her mood shift.

  It always fascinated him how she could change moods as other women changed their hats.

  Now she was crisp and quick and businesslike. I am expecting Shasa back from South-West later today. I'll ring Abe in Windhoek to find out what time they took off. If all is well, we can leave for Johannesburg tomorrow. What time, Blaine? As early as you like, he told her. This afternoon I will clear my desk and make my peace with the Ou Baas. The weather should be fine this time of year, perhaps a few thunderstorms on the highveld. She took his wrist and turned it to see his Rolex watch. Cheri, you can still get to the cabinet meeting if you hurry. She went with him to the garage to see him off, still playing the dutiful wife, and kissed him through the open window of the Bentley.

  I'll ring your office as soon as Shasa arrives, she murmured in his ear. I'll leave a message with Doris if you are still in the meeting. Doris was Blaine's secretary, and one of the very few people in the world that knew about them.

  As soon as he was gone, Centaine rushed back into the bedroom and picked up the phone. The line to Windhoek was noisy with crackles and hisses and Abe Abrahams sounded as though he were in Alaska.

  They left at first light, almost five hours ago, he told her faintly. David is with him, of course. What's the wind, Abe? They should have a tail wind all the way. I'd say twenty or thirty miles an hour. Thank you. I'll wait at the field for them., That might be a little awkward. Abe sounded hesitant.

  There was a lot of secrecy and deliberate vagueness when they got in from the mine yesterday evening, and I wasn't allowed to see them off from the airfield this morning. I think they might have company, if you will excuse the euphemism. As a reflex, Centaine frowned, though she truly could not find it in herself thoroughly to disapprove of Shasa's philanderings. She always excused him with: It's his de Thiry blood. He can't help himself, feeling a covert touch of indulgent pride in her son's effortless successes with the opposite sex. Now she changed the subject.

  Thank you, Abe. I've signed the new Namaqualand leases so you can go ahead and draw up the contract. They spoke business for five minutes more before Centaine hung up.

  She made three more calls, all business, then phoned her secretary at Weltevreden and dictated four letters and the cable to her London broker to Sell all Krupp and Farben at best. She hung up, sent for Hadji and Miriam and gave them instructions for the running of the cottage in her absence.

  Then she made a quick calculation. The Dragon Rapide, a beautiful blue and silver twin-engined aircraft which Shasa had prevailed on her to buy, could cruise at 150 knots, and with a tail wind of twenty miles an hour they should be at Youngsfield before noon.

  So we will see just how much Master Shasa's taste in women has improved recently. She went out to the Daimler and drove slowly around the shoulder of the mountain, below District Six, the colourful Malay quarter, its narrow lanes reverberating to the cries of the muezzin calling the faithful to prayer, the hoot of the fishsellers horns declaring their wares and the birdlike cries of children, and past the hospital of Groote Schuur and the university which adjoined Cecil Rhodes magnificent estate, his legacy to the nation.

  it must be the most beautiful situation of any university in the world, she thought.

  The colonnaded stone buildings were set against a backdrop of dark pines and the sheer sky-high cliff of the mountain, while on the meadows abutting them grazed small herds of plains animals, eland and wildebeest and zebra.

  Sight of the university set her thinking about Shasa again.

  He had just completed his year, with a respectable second-class.

  I always suspect those who pass first class in everything, Blaine had remarked when he heard Shasa's results. Most of them are too clever for their own good or the good of those around them. I prefer those lesser mortals for whom the achievement of excellence requires considerable effort. You accuse me of spoiling him, she had smiled. 'But you are always making excuses for Shasa yourself. Being your son, my love, is not the easiest of tasks for a young man, he had told her, making her bridle furiously.

  You think I am not good to him. You are very good to him. As I have suggested, perhaps too good to him. It's just that you do not leave much for him. You are so successful, so dominant. You have done it all. What can he do to prove himself? Blaine, I am not domineering. I said dominant, Centaine, not domineering. The two are different. I love you because you are dominant. I would despise you if you were domineering. Still I do not always understand this language of yours. I shall look it up in my dictionary. Ask Shasa, English was his only first. Blaine chuck
led and then put his arm around her shoulders. You must slacken the rein a little, Centaine, give him space to make his own mistakes and enjoy his own triumphs. If he wants to hunt, even though you do not approve of killing animals that you cannot eat, the Courtneys have all been big-game hunters. Old General Courtney slew elephant in their hundreds and Shasa's father hunted; let the boy try his hand at it. That and polo are the only things you haven't done before him. What about flying? she challenged.

  I apologize, and flying. Very well, I will let him go and murder beasts. But Blaine, tell me, will he make the polo team for the Olympics? Frankly, my darling, no. But he is good enough! You said so yourself., Yes, Blaine agreed. He is probably good enough. He has all the fire and dash, a marvelous eye and arm, but he lacks experience. If he were chosen he'd be the youngest international ever.

  However, I don't think he will be. I think Clive Ramsay has to get the ride at number two. She stared at him, and he stared back expressionlessly. He knew what she was thinking. As Captain, Blaine was one of the national selectors.

  David will be going to Berlin, she had followed up.

  David Abrahams is the human version of a gazelle,Blaine had pointed out reasonably. He has the fourth best time in the world for the two hundred metres and the third best for the four hundred. Young Shasa is competing against at least ten of the world's best horsemen for a place. I would give anything in the world for Shasa to go to Berlin. Very likely you would, Blaine had agreed. She had built a new wing to the engineering faculty at the University of Cape Town the Courtney Building, when it had finally been decided that Shasa would go there rather than to oxford; yes, he knew no price was too high for her to pay.

  I assure you, my love, that I will make very certain he paused, and she perked up expectantly, that I excuse myself from the room when, and if, Shasa's name ever comes up before the selectors. He's so damned virtuous! she exclaimed aloud now and beat her clenched fist on the steering-wheel of the Daimler with frustration, until a sudden vision of the ivory and gold inlaid bed stopped her and she grinned wickedly.