Sailing to Love

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Sailing to Love Page 12

by Barbara Cartland


  “And I believe he was on the verge of a great discovery,” the Earl said. “There’s a small Russian camp about fifteen miles along the Pass. We managed to get close enough to overhear them talking and Devenish was getting excited.”

  “Didn’t he tell you what they were saying?” the Colonel asked anxiously.

  “He had no chance. There was a commotion from inside the tent – some kind of a quarrel I think – and they started to get close to us. We beat a hasty retreat, but the ground was rough and Devenish’s horse stumbled and threw him.

  “We managed to remount him and get away, but the poor fellow was in agony, half fainting most of the way.”

  “And he’s in a high fever now,” Mrs Arkwright added. “We won’t get any sense out of him for a while, poor fellow.”

  “And that’s serious,” said the Colonel, “because whatever he heard was obviously important. We shall just have to pray that he recovers consciousness quickly.”

  He turned to Anthony.

  “What sort of a time did you have, sir? A bit rough, was it?”

  “Never had a better time in my life,” Anthony said unexpectedly.

  “What, dressed in those terrible clothes?” Venetia asked.

  “All part of the fun,” he said at once.

  “He really did enjoy himself,” the Earl said. “I was astonished.

  “And we’ll have to go back,” Anthony said at once. “If Devenish doesn’t come round and tell us what he learned, we can’t leave it there.”

  “No,” the Colonel said strongly. “But let’s hope he improves.”

  He did not improve, however. By next morning his fever had climbed dangerously, and he could do nothing but toss and turn, raving incoherently.

  “Last thing – expect – ” he gasped. “Take them by surprise – English devils – English devils –”

  “I suppose that means us,” the Colonel said wryly. “He’s repeating something he heard, but heaven knows what it can be. And how can they take us by surprise when we’re always on full alert for an attack?”

  “Then it’s something we haven’t thought of,” the Earl said heavily. “But in heaven’s name, what?”

  “I can’t begin to imagine,” replied the Colonel.

  Devenish groaned. Venetia seated herself on his bed and gently mopped his brow. He was still talking, but his voice had dropped to a mutter.

  “Look, Colonel, we can’t wait any longer,” the Earl said. “We have to go back to that camp and find what else there is to learn.”

  “But how?” the Colonel demanded. “I have nobody else here who can speak Russian. That was Devenish’s special value to us.”

  “Nobody else?” the Earl echoed, aghast.

  “Some of the lads have picked up a smattering, but we’ve nobody who speaks it fluently like him. There was one other man but he was killed and I’m still waiting for a replacement. You might tell Her Majesty that, Lord Mountwood.”

  “I will, but it doesn’t help us much now,” he replied heavily.

  Suddenly Devenish sat up in bed, screaming the same three words over and over again. Then abruptly he stopped and fell back on the bed, his chest heaving, his eyes staring wildly.

  “That sounded like Russian,” the Colonel said. “But what the devil was he saying?”

  “He was saying, ‘Kill them all, kill them all,’” Venetia said quietly.

  In the stunned silence that followed, they turned to look at her.

  “You understood that?” the Colonel asked.

  “Oh yes. I speak Russian. I had a governess whose mother was Russian. She taught it to me. She said I ought to know a better language than insipid English. I’ve always loved it.”

  She rose and stood between the Earl and the Colonel, looking from one to the other.

  “It’s going to have to be me.”

  “You can forget that,” the Earl rapped out. “There is simply no way that I’ll allow you to go through the Pass to find the Russian camp.”

  “But why not?” she asked with an air of honest surprise.

  “Why not? Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Not to me. You came here to do a job for your country. Now you find there’s only one way of doing it, you can’t refuse that one way. It would be to fail in your duty.”

  He stared at her.

  “Ivan, listen,” she said urgently. “The Russians have a secret that can destroy this place and everyone in it. If they succeed it could put the whole North-West frontier at risk.

  “It doesn’t matter that I am a woman. It doesn’t matter that I am your wife. What matters is that you’ve been shown a way to avoid disaster. An instrument has been put into your hand, and you must use that instrument. You have no choice.”

  In his horrified silence and deadly pallor, she saw that he had understood the truth of this.

  “She’s right,” the Colonel said quietly. “What would the Queen expect of us?”

  “She would expect us to take any risk, no matter what the cost,” the Earl said in a hollow voice.

  “I think we should make a start at once,” Venetia said. “Then we can approach them by night.”

  There was nothing more to say. The Earl knew that she was right. It was their duty to their country to take any risk, at any sacrifice to themselves.

  He had always believed that, but never before had the potential sacrifice been so great. He wanted to cry out that his Venetia must not be subject to danger because he could not live without her.

  Instead, he said bleakly,

  “You are right, my love. Let us be gone as soon as possible.”

  “You’ll take a contingent with you,” the Colonel said. “They’ll make sure you come back safely.”

  “Thank you,” Venetia said quietly.

  But they all knew that she was on a mission that only she could accomplish, that there would come a moment when she must face danger alone, when, perhaps, nobody could guarantee her safety.

  As they walked back to their room, the Earl went through the things he would like to say to her, but he found he could say none of them.

  He no longer recognised her. He had not known that she spoke Russian, but then, he wondered, how well had he ever known her?

  The cheerful, sharp-witted girl who had snared his interest and then his heart had vanished, replaced by this steely young woman who had made her decision without asking his opinion.

  “It doesn’t matter that I am your wife.”

  She had said that. Did she mean it?

  Almost as soon as they reached their room, there was a knock on the door and it was Mrs Arkwright, bearing a set of tribesmen’s clothes.

  “Luckily you’re fairly tall,” she said. “So I think you’ll find them a good fit. They’re really quite clean, considering.”

  “Shall I help you put them on?” the Earl asked, when they were alone again.

  “Yes, please.”

  He played ‘lady’s maid’ for her, as he had done many times before, but this time it was different. This time one or both of them might not come back alive.

  He removed her dress, helped her on with the ragged trousers and long tunic and then wrapped the turban around her head.

  He dressed himself in his own rags and rubbed some brown boot polish into his face.

  “Now it’s your turn,” he said. “Anyone who lives here soon gets a deep tan, so we must hide our light skins or they would soon realise we are strangers. Mind you, I hope we may manage to pass unseen.”

  She stood still while he darkened her face, looking up at him with a faint smile on her face.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said fervently.

  “Nothing can happen to me if I’m with you,” Venetia replied simply.

  He put his arms around her, drawing her close and holding her in a fierce hug. She held him in return, each of them wondering if they would ever share a moment like this again.

  This was not the right time for a declaration of love and there wa
s no need for words. Each felt the strength of the emotional bond that held them fast.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “We’re gathering downstairs,” came the Colonel’s voice.

  “We’re coming,” Venetia called.

  They left the room hand in hand, heading down to the courtyard where a group of soldiers, all dressed as tribesmen, stood by their horses. When they saw Venetia, they sent up a spontaneous cheer and burst into applause.

  The Earl joined in the applause, regarding his wife with pride. Anthony too was applauding, and the two of them stood, one each side of her, while the cheers rose.

  Then it was time to leave. The sun was setting fast, dropping down behind the mountains, as they rode out of the great gates of the fort, heading for the Khyber Pass.

  The Pass was a very rough road of about thirty miles, starting in the North-West of India and wending its way through the mountains and across the India-Afghan border. On each side rose bleak mountains that were almost impossible to climb, except in a very few places.

  As the sun finally disappeared behind the mountains they were plunged into almost total darkness. The little troop moved carefully so as not to make too much noise. Venetia was constantly alert, straining to see any sign of lights that would suggest a camp.

  After what seemed like an age they halted. The Major leading the expedition came and spoke quietly.

  “We’ve reached the place where we found the camp last time, and I think we’ll see their lights around the next bend. We should dismount here and go softly the rest of the way.”

  Two soldiers stayed behind with the horses while the rest made their way quietly round the curve in the road, and there in a hollow at the foot of the mountain were the lights of a camp.

  Keeping close to the shelter of the mountain, they crept up close to the camp, until they had gone as far as was wise.

  “Where was Lieutenant Devenish when he heard something he thought was valuable?” Venetia asked.

  The Earl indicated the largest tent. It was well lit and they could discern shadows moving back and forth inside.

  “Whoever is in there must be in charge,” the Earl whispered.

  “Then he’s the one who knows the secret,” Venetia said softly. “It’s time for me to start work.”

  She glided away from them into the darkness, heading for the large tent. But the Earl was right behind her, determined not to let her out of his sight. Following up to the rear were Anthony and the Major.

  There were large rocks to shelter them as they crept round the perimeter of the camp until they reached the large tent. From inside they could clearly hear the sound of voices raised in revelry.

  The four of them dropped to the ground, and lay there, listening to the Russians. To the men the words sounded like confusion, but Venetia, listening intently, said at last,

  “They’re celebrating because they’re going to be out of here very soon – they’ve started packing up already.”

  “Do they say why they’re going?” the Major asked.

  She listened for a while, then said,

  “They’ve achieved what they set out to do.”

  “But don’t they say what that was?” the Earl asked urgently.

  There was another burst of Russian.

  “One of them said, ‘we found the right man’,” Venetia explained. “And another one keeps saying, ‘the die is cast,’ and then giving a nasty little giggle.”

  There was a shout from inside the tent, followed by general laughter.

  “Someone said, ‘they’ll never know what happened’,” Venetia told them.

  “What do they mean by ‘the right man’?” the Major wanted to know. “Have they suddenly found a brilliant new leader.”

  But Venetia had gone very still.

  “No, not that. It’s one of our men they’re talking about. They’ve found an English soldier who’s helping them.”

  “A traitor? I don’t believe it. You must have misunderstood, ma’am.”

  “No, I haven’t misunderstood. This man is going to sabotage the cannon.”

  They all exchanged looks of horror.

  “Venetia, are you sure?” the Earl asked softly.

  “Yes, I’m sure. When the attack comes, the big guns will be useless, and then they think they can overwhelm us.”

  “That’s what poor Devenish was trying to tell us,” Anthony said.

  “I refuse to believe it,” the Major said stubbornly. “No English soldier would do such a thing.”

  “Now listen,” the Earl told him firmly, “my wife risked her life to get you that information and she’s not risking it any further. We’re going back to the fort to warn them.”

  In the face of his fiercely whispered wrath, the Major backed down.

  They eased back along the ground until they judged they were far enough away from the tent to risk standing up. Luckily the camp was full of noise and they were able to slip away into the night without being discovered.

  On the perimeter they found the soldiers who had accompanied them, and who were becoming anxious.

  “To the horses quickly,” the Major said. “The sooner we get back to the fort the better.”

  Once mounted, they moved slowly back down the Pass for the first mile, but then they broke into a gallop. At every moment Venetia expected to hear the sound of Russians pursuing them, but miraculously they made their escape.

  As the first dawn light appeared they could make out the huge grey hulk that was the fort. In a few minutes the gates opened to receive them, and they were safely home.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Colonel Arkwright was relieved and joyful at their safe return, but then appalled when he had heard Venetia’s story.

  “There’s no chance that you could be mistaken?” he asked, more in hope than belief.

  “No chance at all,” she said. “There’s a man in this fort who is working for the Russians, and he’s going to disable the cannon so that our strength will be reduced before the attack.”

  “Thank God you warned us,” the Colonel said. “We have time to make sure of the cannon. If anyone tries to get to them, that’s our man. And when the attack comes, we’ll be ready. You’re a true soldier, ma’am. I know no higher praise.”

  “Thank you,” Venetia replied, deeply moved.

  But her greatest joy was the glow of pride in her husband’s eyes.

  “I’ll just see my wife to our room,” he told the Colonel, “then I’ll come back. You’ll need every man.”

  He almost ran with her to their room. There he seized her in his arms and gave her a long, fierce kiss.

  “I’ve never been so frightened in my life,” he said. “All the way back I was waiting for an attack, fearful that you would be hurt or killed.”

  “I was safe while you were with me,” she said, thrilled with what she could see in his eyes.

  “I shall never let you take such risks again,” he said. “From now on – but it’s too soon to talk of that yet. First we have to deal with this attack and then we will have time for ourselves.”

  He kissed her again.

  “Go to bed. You’ve been up all night and you need rest.”

  She was sure that all the excitement would keep her awake, but when she had taken a bath and slipped between the sheets she found that sleep came easily. The night’s exertions had worn her out.

  She was awoken by the sound of the door opening and closing as the Earl entered. She could see that the light was fading and she must have slept through most of the day.

  “We caught him,” he said, sitting on the bed in great excitement. “Colonel Arkwright mounted a treble guard on the cannon, but told them to keep out of sight. They were waiting when the traitor came to disable them.”

  “But who was it?” she demanded eagerly.

  “A man called Kelton. He’s a private and, I guess, a thug by nature. He has a grudge because he was constantly passed over for promotion – with good reason, I would ima
gine. So he sold out to our enemies for gold. He’s under arrest now and won’t trouble us any further. The guns are safe, and we’re ready for the attack.”

  “And when will it come?”

  “Probably tonight. I want you to get dressed and be ready. We should repel them easily, but if not – ” he strode over to a cupboard in the corner, unlocked it and took out something which he handled carefully.

  “I want you to have this,” he said. “Just in case.”

  Then Venetia saw that he was holding a pistol.

  “I’m sure you won’t need it,” the Earl said reassuringly. “But it will ease my mind in case I can’t get here to protect you myself.”

  They clasped each other tightly, neither able to voice their desperate thoughts. Then he was gone.

  Venetia dressed herself hurriedly, trying not to think what might happen.

  Looking out of the window, she saw that every man in the fort was on alert for the coming attack. They lined the walls, rifles at the ready.

  Suddenly the air was split by the loudest sound she had ever heard. It was the bellow of a cannon and even while she trembled Venetia felt a sense of pride. But for her that cannon might have been silenced.

  Then there was more bellowing as the other two cannon facing the front were fired. Distantly she could hear screams as the enemy were mown down, realising that their plan had not succeeded.

  Then there was rapid rifle-fire as the soldiers on the walls took up the action.

  She wondered where the Earl was, and what he was doing. Had he put himself into the thick of danger.

  Desperately she started to pray for him.

  The gunfire was getting louder and louder. The roar of the cannon seemed to shake the whole building.

  ‘Let him be safe,’ she prayed frantically. ‘Please God, save him.’

  She said the same words over and over, while she covered her face with her hands.

  Then it seemed as if her prayers were being answered.

  The shots became fewer.

  The cannon still roared, but less often.

  ‘We are sending them away,’ she thought. ‘Perhaps my prayers have helped them to do so.’

 

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