Power of the Sword c-10

by Wilbur Smith

  Well, Perhaps virtuous is not the correct word again. The airfield was deserted. She parked the Daimler beside the hangar, where Shasa would not see it from the air. Then she took the travelling rug from the boot and spread it under a tree on the edge of the wide grassy strip.

  It was one of those lovely summer days, bright sunlight with only patches of cloud over the mountain, a sharp breeze ruffling the stone pines and taking the edge off the heat.

  She settled down on the rug with Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, a book that she had been trying to finish for the last week, occasionally glancing up from the page to scan the northern sky.

  David Abrahams was almost as enchanted with flying as he was with running. That was what had brought him and Shasa together in the beginning. Though Abe Abrahams had worked for Centaine and been one of her closest personal friends for almost all of David's lifetime, the two boys had really only noticed each other when they went up to university in the same year. Since then they had become inseparable and were founder members of the university flying club, for which Centaine had provided a Tiger Moth trainer.

  David was studying law, and it was tacitly understood that when he qualified he would join his father in Windhoek, which meant naturally that he would become one of Centaine's people. She had observed the boy carefully over the years and found no vice in him, so she approved of his friendship with Shasa.

  David was taller than his father, with a lean runner's body and an attractively ugly, humorous face, thick curly hair and a large beaky nose which he had inherited from Abe. His best features were his dark Semitic eyes and long sensitive hands, with which he was now manipulating the control column of the Dragon Rapide. He flew with an almost religious dedication, like a priest performing the ritual of some arcane religion. He treated the aircraft as though it were a beautiful living creature, whereas Shasa flew like an engineer, with understanding and great skill, but without David's mystic passion.

  David brought that same passion to running and many of the other things in his existence. This was one of the reasons that Shasa loved him so dearly. He spiced Shasa's own life, enhanced the pleasure which Shasa derived from the things they did together. These past weeks might have been dull and anti-climactic without David.

  With Centaine's blessing, withheld strenuously for almost a year and then mysteriously given at the last moment, the two of them had taken the Rapide and flown to the H'ani Mine the day after they had written their final examinations.

  At the mine Dr Twenty-man-Jones had arranged for two four-ton trucks to be waiting for them, fully equipped with camping equipment, camp staff, trackers, skinners and a k. one of the company prospectors, a man thoroughly versed in the ways of the wild, in bushcraft and hunting big dangerous game, was in charge of the expedition.

  Their destination was the Caprivi Strip, that remote ribbon of wilderness, between Angola and Bechuanaland.

  Entry to this area was severely restricted and hunting was forbidden except in exceptional circumstances. Enviously it was referred to by other sportsmen as the private hunting preserve of the cabinet ministers of the South African government. Blaine Malcomess had arranged entry permits and hunting licences for them.

  Under the grizzled old prospector's quiet instruction and firm hand the two young men had come to a closer understanding of, and respect for, the wilderness and the fascinating spectrum of life it contained. In a few weeks he had taught them something of man's place in the fragile balance of nature and instilled in them the principles of ethical hunting.

  The death of each individual animal is sad but inevitable.

  However, the death of the forest or swamp or plain that supports the entire species is tragedy, he explained. if the kings and noblemen of Europe had not been avid huntsmen, the stag and the boar and the bear would be extinct today.

  it was the huntsmen who saved the forest from the axe and the plough of the peasants. And they listened attentively at the camp-fire as he explained. Then who hunt for love of the creatures they pursue will protect the breeding females and young from the poachers and save the forests from the goats and cattle. No, my young friends, Robin Hood was a dirty poacher. The sheriff of Nottingham was the real hero. So they spent enchanted days in the bush, leaving camp on foot while it was still dark and returning dog-weary after the sun had set. Each of them killed his lion, and experienced the hunter's sadness and elation at the deed, and came out determined to preserve that wild and beautiful country from the predations of unthinking, greedy men. And Shasa, blessed by the chance of birth with the promise of great wealth and influence, came to realize in some small measure how much of that responsibility could one day be his.

  The women had been superfluous, as David had warned they would be.

  However, Shasa had insisted on bringing them, one for himself and one for David.

  Shasa's choice was almost thirty years old. The best tunes are played on an old fiddle, he assured David. She was also a divorcee. 'I never break in my own polo ponies., She had big blue eyes, a ripe red mouth and a pneumatic figure, but was not burdened by an unnecessary amount of brain.

  David nicknamed her Jumbo,, Because, he explained, she's so thick that two elephants could walk across her skull side by side., Shasa had prevailed upon Jumbo to bring a friend for David, and she had selected a tall dark lady, another divorcee, with trailing locks; her thin arms were loaded with bangles, her long neck with strings of beads. She affected an ivory cigarette-holder and had a smouldering intense gaze but spoke seldom, then usually to ask for another gin.

  David dubbed her the Camel for her insatiable thirst.

  However, the two of them turned out to be ideal, for while they delivered what was expected of them with vigour and expertise when called upon to do so, for the rest they were quite content to remain in camp all day, and in the evening demanded little attention and made no attempt to sabotage the conversation around the camp-fire by joining in.

  That was probably the most enjoyable holiday I will ever spend., Shasa leaned back in the pilot's seat of the Rapide and stared dreamily ahead, content to let David, in the copilot's seat, do the flying. 'But it isn't over yet! He glanced at his wristwatch. Another hour before we reach Cape Town. Keep her on course, he told David, and unfastened his safety-belt.

  where are you going2 David demanded.

  I will not embarrass you by replying to that question, but do not be surprised when the Camel comes up to the cockpit to join you. I really am worried about you. David looked grave.

  You're going to rupture something if you go on like this. Never felt stronger, Shasa assured him as he wriggled out of the seat.

  Not you, dear boy, it's jumbo I'm worried about. David shook his head sadly, and Shasa chuckled, slapped his shoulder and ducked into the rear cabin.

  The Camel looked up at him with that dark fanatical gaze and spilled a little gin and tonic down the front of her blouse, while jumbo giggled and wriggled her fat little rump across the seat to make room for Shasa. beside her.

  He whispered in her ear and jumbo looked bewildered, not an unusual expression for her.

  The Mile High Club, what in heaven's name is that? Shasa whispered again and she peered out of the side window at the earth below.

  Goodness! I didn't realize we were that high. You get a special brooch when you become a member, Shasa told her, made of gold and diamonds. And jumbo's interest flared.

  Oh goody! What kind of brooch? A flying pussy cat, with gold wings and diamond eyes. A pussy cat? Why a pussy, she broke off as understanding dawned in those china blue eyes. Shasa Courtney, you are awfulF She lowered her eyes and blinked demurely, and Shasa winked across the aisle at the Camel.

  I think Davie wants to talk to you. The Camel rose obediently, glass in hand, all her bangles and beads jangling as she wobbled from one side of the aisle to the other.

  An hour later Shasa brought the Rapide in from the mountain side of the airstrip, and laid her down on the grass as though he were buttering
hot toast. He swung her nose around before she had stopped, taxiing back towards the hangars. With a burst of the starboard engine, he brought her up onto the hard stand and cut the motors.

  Only then did he notice the yellow Daimler parked in the shadow of the hangar with Centaine standing beside it.

  Oh for the love of Allah, Mater is here. Get those beauties flat on the floor! Too late, David groaned. Jumbo, bless her, is already waving at your mum through the porthole., Shasa steeled himself to his mother's wrath as jumbo came giggling down the boarding ladder, supporting the Camel, whose legs had finally let her down.

  Centaine said nothing, but she had a taxi waiting beside the Daimler. How she had known about the girls Shasa would never ask, but she waved the taxi forward and herded the unsteady pair into the back seat with an eye like a stockwhip.

  Get their luggage in the boot, she ordered Shasa tersely, and the moment it was loaded, she nodded at the taxi-driver.

  Take them wherever they want to go., Camel sat owl-eyed in her seat, but jumbo leaned out of the rear window waving and blowing kisses at Shasa until the taxi disappeared through the gates of the airfield, and Shasa bowed his head and waited for his mother's icy sarcasm.

  Did you have a good trip, darling? Centaine asked sweetly, holding up her face to be kissed, and the two girls were never mentioned again.

  Marvellous! Shasa's kiss was full of gratitude and relief and genuine pleasure at being with her again, and he began to tell her all about it, but she cut him off, Cheri!! she said. Right now I Want you to arrange for the Rapide to be refuelled and checked. We are flying up to Johannesburg tomorrow. In Johannesburg they stayed at the Carlton. Centaine owned thirty percent of the equity in the hotel company, and the royal suite was at her disposal whenever she was in town.

  The hotel would soon be in need of major renovation, but it occupied a prime position in the centre of Johannesburg.

  While she dressed for dinner, Centaine weighed the possibility of having the old building pulled down and redeveloping the site, She would have her architects prepare a report, she decided, as she put business out of her mind and devoted the rest of the evening and all of her attention to Blaine.

  Taking a silly chance of alerting the gossips, she and Blaine danced until two in the morning in the nightclub on the top floor of the hotel.

  The next day Blaine had a full series of meetings at the Union Buildings in Pretoria, his excuse to Isabella for leaving Cape Town, so Centaine could spend the day with Shasa. In the morning there was a sale of yearlings at the showgrounds, but the prices were ridiculously high and they ended up without having bought a single animal. They lunched at the East African pavilion, where, more than the food, Centaine enjoyed the envious and speculative glances of the women at the surrounding tables.

  in the afternoon they went to the zoo. Between feeding the monkeys and rowing on the lake, they discussed Shasa's plans for the future and she was delighted to learn that he had lost none of his determination to take up his duties and responsibilities with Courtney Mining and Finance as soon as he had obtained his Master's degree.

  They arrived back at the Carlton with plenty of time to change for the boxing. Blaine, already in his dinner jacket, held a whisky and soda in his hand and he sprawled in one of the armchairs and watched Centaine complete her toilet.

  She enjoyed that. It was playing at being married again, and she called him to hook in her ear-rings and then paraded for his approval, pirouetting to spread her long skirts.

  I have never been to a boxing match before, Blaine. Aren't we terribly over-dressed? I assure you that black tie is de rigueur. oh God, I'm so nervous. I don't know what I'm going to say to him, even if I get a chance, she broke off. You did manage to get tickets, didn't you? He showed them to her and smiled. Front row, and I have arranged for a car and driver. Shasa drifted into the suite with a white silk scarf draped casually over the shoulders of his dinner jacket, and his black tie minutely and artfully asymmetrical so that it could never be mistaken for one of the modern clip-on monstrosities.

  He looks so magnificent. Centaine's heart swelled at the sight of him. How ever am I going to preserve him from the harpies? He kissed her before going to the cabinet and pouring her customary glass of champagne.

  Can I freshen your whisky, sir? he asked Blaine.

  Thanks, but one is my limit, Shasa, Blaine declined, and Shasa poured himself a dry ginger-ale. That was one thing she didn't have to worry about, Centaine thought, liquor would never be one of Shasa's weaknesses.

  Well, Mater, Shasa raised his glass, here's to your newfound interest in the gentlemanly art of boxing. Are you versed in the general objectives of the game? I think two young men get into a ring and try to kill each other, is that right! That, Centaine, is exactly right, Blaine laughed. He never used an endearment in front of Shasa, and not for the first time she wondered what Shasa thought of her and Blaine.

  He must suspect, surely, but she had enough to worry about this evening without opening that dark door. She drank her champagne and then, gorgeous in diamonds and silks, on the arms of the two most important men in her world, she swept out to the waiting limousine.

  The streets of the campus of the University of the Witwatersrand around the gymnasium were solid with parked vehicles and others moving nose to tail up the hill, while the sidewalks were packed with a jostling excited crowd of students and fight fans from the general public hurrying towards the hall, so their driver was forced to drop them off two hundred yards short of the entrance, and they joined the throng on foot.

  The atmosphere in the hall was noisy and expectant, and as they took their reserved seats Centaine was relieved to see that everyone in the first three rows was wearing evening dress and that there were almost as many ladies as gentlemen in the crowd. She had had nightmares about being the only female in the hall.

  She sat through the preliminary bouts, trying to appear interested in the lecture she was receiving from both Blaine and Shasa on the finer points of the contests, but the fighters in the lower weight divisions were so small and scrawny that they reminded her of underfed game cocks, and the flurry of action was fast enough to trick the eye. Besides, racing ahead to her first her mind and expectations were sight of the man she had come to see.

  Another bout ended; the fighters, bruised and slick with sweat, climbed down from the ring, and an expectant hush fell on the hall, and heads began craning around towards the dressing-room.

  Blaine checked his programme and murmured, This is it! Then a bloodthirsty roar went up from the mass of spectators.

  Here he comes. Blaine touched her arm, but she found she could not turn her head.

  ,I wish I had never come, she thought, and shrank down in her seat. I don't want him to see me. The light heavyweight challenger, Manfred De La Rey, came down to the ring first, attended by his coach an two seconds, and the block of Stellenbosch students let out a roar and brandished their colour banners, launching into the Varsity war cry. They were immediately answered by the Wits students opposite with cheers and jeers and stamping of feet. The pandemonium was painful to the eardrums as Manfred climbed up into the ring and did a little shuffling dance, holding his gloved hands above his head, the silk gown swinging from his shoulders like a cloak.

  His hair had grown longer and unfashionably it was not dressed with Brylcreem, but rippled around his head like a gilded cloud as he moved. His jaw was strong, stopping just short of heaviness, and the bones of forehead and cheek were prominent and cleanly chiselled, but his eyes dominated all his other features, pale and implacable as those of one of the big predatory cats, emphasized by his dark brows.

  His shoulders were wide, descending in an inverted pyramid to his hips and the long clean lines of his legs, and his body had been pared of all fat and loose flesh, so that each individual muscle was visible beneath the skin.

  Shasa stiffened in his seat as he recognized him. He chewed angrily, grinding his teeth together as he remembered the impact of t
hose fists into his flesh and the suffocating slime of dead fish engulfing him as clearly as if the intervening years had never been.

  I know him, Mater, he growled between clenched teeth.

  He is the one I fought on the jetty at Walvis Bay. Centaine laid a hand on his arm to restrain him, but she did not look at him nor speak. Instead, she stole a single glance at Blaine's face, and what she saw distressed her.

  Blaine's expression was grim, and she could feel the anger and the hurt in him. He might have been understanding and magnanimous a thousand miles from here, but with the living proof of her wantonness before him, he could only be thinking of the man who had made this bastard on her, and her acquiescence, nay, her joyous participation in the act.

  He was thinking of her body which should be his alone, used by a stranger, by an enemy against whom he had risked his life in battle.

  Oh God, why did I come? She tortured herself, and then she felt something melt and change shape inside of her and knew the answer.

  Flesh of my flesh, she thought. Blood of my blood. And she remembered the weight of him in her womb, and the spasm of burgeoning life deep within her, and all the instincts of motherhood welled and threatened to choke her, and the angry birth cry rang again in her head, deafening her.

  My son! she almost cried aloud. My own son. The magnificent fighting man in the ring turned his head in her direction and saw her for the first time. He dropped his hands to his sides, and he lifted his chin and stared at her with such concentrated venom, with such bitter hatred in those yellow eyes that it was like the blow of a spiked mace in her unprotected face. Then Manfred De La Rey deliberately turned his back on her and strode to his corner.

  The three of them, Blaine, Shasa and Centaine, sat rigid and silent in the midst of the roaring, chanting, heaving multitude. Not one of the three looked at the others, only Centaine moved, twisting the corner of her sequined shawl in her lap and chewing on her lower lip to prevent it quivering.