"You are not surprised to see me here," Katinka stated. It was not a question for she could see the answer in his flat gaze.
"I was expecting you. I was expecting the Goddess Kali. Nobody else would dare come here," he said, and Katinka blinked at this unusual form of address.
She sat down on the low stone wall beside the pump, and was silent for a while. Then she asked, "Why do you call me that?" The death of Zelda had forged a strange, mystic bond between them.
"In Trincomalee, on the beautiful island of Ceylon beside the sacred Elephant Pool, stands the temple of Kali. I went there every day that I was in the colony. Kali is the Hindu Goddess of death and destruction. I worship her." She knew then that he was mad. The knowledge intrigued her, and made the fine, colourless hairs on her forearms stand erect.
She sat for a long time in silence and watched him complete his toilet. He squeezed the water from his hair with both hands, and then wiped down those lean, hard limbs with a square of cloth. He pulled on his undershirt, then picked up the dark coat from where it hung over the wall, shrugged into it and buttoned it to his chin.
At last he looked at her. "You have come to hear about my little sparrow." With that fine melodious voice he should have been a preacher or an operatic tenor, she thought.
"Yes,"she said. "That is why I have come."
It was as though he had read her thoughts. He knew exactly what she wanted and he began to speak without hesitation. He told her what had taken place that day in the room below the armoury. He omitted no detail. He almost sang the words, making the terrible acts he was describing sound as noble and inevitable as the lyrics from some Greek tragedy. He transported her, so that she hugged her own arms and began to rock slowly back and forth on the wall as she listened.
When he had finished speaking she sat for a long while with a rapturous expression on her lovely face. At last she shuddered softly and said, "You may continue to call me Kali. But only when we are alone. No one else must ever hear you speak the name."
"Thank you, Goddess." His pale eyes glowed with an almost religious fervour as he watched her go to the gate in the wall.
There she paused and, without looking round at him, she asked, "Why do you call him your little sparrow?"
Slow John shrugged. "Because from this day onwards he belongs to me. They all belong to me and to the Goddess Kali, for ever." Katinka gave a small ecstatic shiver at those words, then walked on down the path through the gardens towards the residence. Every step of the way she could feel his gaze upon her.
Sukeena was waiting for her when she returned to the residence. "You sent for me, mistress."
"Come with me, Sukeena."
She led the girl to her closet, and seated herself on the chaise-longue in front of the shuttered window. She gestured for Sukeena to stand before her. "Governor Kleinhans often discussed your skills as a physician," Katinka said. "Who taught you?"
"My mother was an adept. At a very young age I would go out with her to gather the plants and herbs. After her death I studied with my uncle."
"Do you know the plants here? Are they not different from those of the land where you were born?"
"There are some that are the same, and the others I have taught myself."
Katinka already knew all this from Kleinhans, but she enjoyed the music of the slave girl's voice. "Sukeena, yesterday my mare stumbled and almost threw me. My leg was caught on the saddle horn, and I have an ugly mark. My skin bruises easily. Do you have in your chest of medicines one that will heal it for me?"
"Yes, mistress."
"Here!" Katinka leaned back on the sofa, and drew her skirts high above her knees. Slowly and sensually she rolled down one of the white stockings. "Look!" she ordered, and Sukeena sank gracefully to the silk carpet in front of her. Her touch was as soft upon the skin as a butterfly alighting on a flower, and Katinka sighed. "I can feel that you have healing hands."
Sukeena did not reply and a wave of her dark hair hid her eyes.
"How old are you?" Katinka asked.
Sukeena's fingers stopped for an instant and then moved on to explore the bruise that spread around the back of her mistress's knee. "I was born in the year of the Tiger," she said, "so on my next birthday I will be eighteen years of age.-) "You are very beautiful, Sukeena. But, then, you know that, don't you?"
"I do not feel beautiful, mistress. I do not think a slave can ever feel beautiful."
"What a droll notion." Katinka did not hide her annoyance at this turn in the conversation. "Tell me, is your brother as beautiful as you are?"
Again Sukeena's fingers trembled on her skin. Ah! That shaft went home. Katinka smiled softly in the silence, and then asked, "Did you hear my question, Sukeena?"
"To me Althuda is the most beautiful man who has ever lived upon this earth," Sukeena replied softly, and then regretted having said it.
She knew instinctively that it was dangerous to allow this woman to discover those areas where she was most vulnerable, but she could not recall the words.
"How old is Althuda?"
"He is three years older than I am." Sukeena kept her eyes downcast. "I need to fetch my medicines, mistress."
"I shall wait for you to return," Katinka replied. "Be quick."
Katinka lay back against the cushions and smiled or frowned at the vivid procession of images and words that ran through her mind. She felt expectant and elated, and at the same time restless and dissatisfied. Slow John's words sounded in her head like cathedral bells. They disturbed her. She could not remain still a moment longer. She sprang to her feet and prowled around the closet like a hunting leopard. "Where is that girl?" she demanded, and then she glimpsed her own reflection in the long mirror and turned back to consider it.
"Kali!" she whispered, and smiled. "What a marvelous name. What a secret and splendid name."
She saw Sukeena's image appear in the mirror behind her but she did not turn immediately. The girl's dark beauty was a perfect foil for her own. She considered their two faces together, and felt the excitement charge her nerves and sing through her veins.
"I have the salve for your injury, mistress." Sukeena stood close behind her, but her eyes were fathomless.
"Thank you, my little sparrow," Katinka whispered. I want you to belong to me for ever, she thought. I want you to belong to Kali.
She turned back to the sofa and Sukeena knelt before her again. At first the salve was cool on the skin of her leg, and then a warm glow spread from it. Sukeena's fingers were cunning and skilful.
"I hate to see something beautiful destroyed needlessly," Katinka whispered. "You say your brother is beautiful. Do you love him very much, Sukeena?"
When there was no reply Katinka reached down and cupped her hand under Sukeena's chin. She lifted her face so that she could look into her eyes. The agony she saw there made her pulse race.
"My poor little sparrow," she said. I have touched the deepest place in her soul, she exulted. As she removed her hand she let her fingers trail across the girl's cheek.
"This hour I have come from Slow John," she said, "but you saw me on the path. You were watching me, were you not?"
"Yes, mistress."
"Shall I repeat to you what Slow John told me? Shall I tell you about his special room at the castle, and what happens there?" Katinka" did not wait for the girl to reply but went on speaking quietly. When Sukeena's fingers stilled she broke off her narrative to order, "Do not stop what you are doing, Sukeena You have a magical touch."
When at last she finished speaking, Sukeena was weeping without a sound. Her tears were slow and viscous as drops of oil squeezed from the olive press. They glistened against the red gold of her cheeks. After a while Katinka asked, "How long has your brother been in the castle? I have heard that it is four months since he came back from the mountains to fetch you. Such a long time, and he has not been tried, no sentence passed upon him."
Katinka waited, letting the moments fall, a slow drop at a time, slow as the gi
rl's tears. "Governor Kleinhans was remiss, or was he persuaded by somebody, I wonder. But my husband is an energetic and dedicated man. He will not let justice be denied. No renegade can escape him long."
Now Sukeena was no longer making any pretence, she stared at Katinka with stricken eyes as she went on, "He will send Althuda to the secret room with Slow John. Althuda will be beautiful no longer. What a dreadful pity. What can we do to prevent that happening?"
"Mistress," Sukeena whispered, "your husband, he has the power. It is in his hands."
"My husband is a servant of the Company, a loyal and unbending servant. He will not flinch from his duty." "Mistress, you are so beautiful. No man can deny you.
You can persuade him." Sukeena slowly lowered her head and placed it on Katinka's bare knee. "With all my heart, with all my soul, I beg you, mistress."
"What would you do to save your brother's life?" Katinka asked. "What price would you pay, my little sparrow?" "There is no price too high, no sacrifice from which I would turn aside. Everything and anything you ask of me, mistress."
"We could never hope to set him free, Sukeena You understand that, don't you?" Katinka asked gently. Nor would I ever wish that, she thought, for while the brother is in the castle the little sparrow is safely in my cage.
"I will not even let myself hope for that."
Sukeena lifted her head and again Katinka cupped her chin, this time with both her hands, and she leaned forward slowly. "Althuda shall not die. We will save him from Slow John, you and I," she promised, and kissed Sukeena full on the mouth. The girl's lips were wet with her tears. They tasted hot and salty, almost like blood. Slowly Sukeena opened her lips, like the petals of an orchid opening to the sunbird's beak as it quests for nectar.
Althuda. Sukeena steeled herself with the thought of her brother, as without breaking the kiss Katinka took her hand and moved it slowly up under her skirts until it lay on her smooth white belly. Althuda, this is for you, and for you alone, Sukeena told herself silently, as she closed her eyes and her fingers crept timorously over the satiny belly, down into the nest of fine dense golden curls at the base.
The next day dawned in a cloudless sky. Although the air was chill the sun was IT brilliant and the wind had dropped. From the scaffold Hal watched the closed door to the dungeons. Daniel stayed close by his side, in taking Hal's share of the work on his broad shoulders he was shielding him from Barnard's lash.
When Slow John came through the gates and crossed the courtyard to the armoury, with his measured undertaker's tread, Hal stared down at him with stricken eyes. Suddenly, as he passed below the scaffold, Hal snatched up the heavy mason's hammer that lay on the planking at his feet and lifted it to hurl. it down and crush the executioner's skull.
But Daniel's great fist closed around his wrist. He eased the hammer from Hal's grip, as though he were taking a toy from a child, and placed it on top of the wall beyond his reach.
"Why did you do that?" Hal protested. "I could have killed the swine."
"To no purpose," Daniel told him, with compassion. "You cannot save Sir Francis by killing an underling, You would sacrifice your own life and achieve nothing by it. They would simply send another to your father."
Manseer brought Sir Francis up from the dungeons. He could not walk unaided on his broken bandaged feet, but his head was high as they dragged him across the courtyard.
"Father!" Hal screamed, in torment. "I cannot let this happen."
Sir Francis looked up at him, and called in a voice just loud enough to reach him on the high wall, "Be strong, my son. For my sake, be strong." Manseer forced him down the steps below the armoury.
The day was long, longer than any that Hal had ever lived through, and the north side of the courtyard was in deep shadow when at last Slow John re-emerged from below the armoury.
"This time I will kill the poisonous swine," Hal blurted, but again Daniel held him in a grip that he could not shake off as the executioner walked slowly beneath the scaffold and out through the castle gates.
Hop came scampering into the courtyard, his face ghastly. He summoned the Company surgeon and the two men disappeared once more down the stairs. This time the soldiers brought out Sir Francis on a litter.
"Father!" Hal shouted down to him, but there was neither reply nor sign of life in response.
"I have warned you often enough," Hugo Barnard bellowed at him. He strode out onto the boards and laid half a dozen whip strokes across his back. Hal made no attempt to avoid the blows, and Barnard stepped back astonished that he showed no pain. "Any more of your imbecile chattering, and I will put the dogs onto you," he promised, as he turned away. Meanwhile, in the courtyard, the Company surgeon watched gravely as the soldiers carried Sir Francis's unconscious form down to his cell. Then, accompanied by Hop, he set off for the Governor's suite on the south side of the courtyard.
Van de Velde looked up in irritation from the papers that littered his desk. "Yes? What is it, Doctor Soar? I am a busy man. I hope you have not come here to waste my time." "it is the prisoner, your excellency." The surgeon looked flustered and apologetic at the same time. Van de Velde did not allow him to continue but turned on Hop, who stood nervously behind the doctor, twisting his Hat in his fingers.
"Well, Hop, has the pirate succumbed yet? Has he told us what we want to know?" he shouted, and Hop retreated a pace.
"He is so stubborn. I would never have believed it possible, that any human being-" He broke off in a long, tormented stammer.
"I hold you responsible, Hop." Van de Velde came menacingly from behind his desk. He was warming to this sport of baiting the miserable little clerk, but the surgeon intervened.
"Your excellency, I fear for the prisoner's life. Another day of questioning he may not survive it."
Van de Velde rounded on him now. "That, doctor, is the main object of this whole business. Courtney is a man condemned to death. He will die, and you have my solemn word on that." He went back to his desk and lowered himself into the soft chair. "Don't come here to give me news of his imminent decease. All I want to know from you is whether or not he is still capable of feeling pain, and if he is capable of speaking or at least giving some sign of understanding the question. Well, is he, doctor?" Van de Velde glared.
"Your excellency," the doctor removed his eye-glasses and polished the lenses vigorously as he composed a reply. He knew what van de Velde wanted to hear, and he knew also that it was not politic to deny him. "At the moment the prisoner is not cmnpos mentis."
Van de Velde scowled and cut in, "What of the executioner's vaunted skills? I thought he never lost a prisoner, not unintentionally anyway."
"Sir, I am not disparaging the skills of the state executioner. I am sure that by tomorrow the prisoner will have recovered consciousness."
"You mean that tomorrow he will be healthy enough to continue questioning?"
"Yes, your excellency. That is my opinion."
"Well, Mijnheer, I will hold you to that. If the pirate dies before he can be formally executed in accordance with the judgement of the court, you will answer to me. The populace must see justice performed. It is no good the man passing peacefully away in a closed room below the walls. We want him out there on the Parade for all to see. I want an example made of him, do you understand?"
"Yes, your excellency." The doctor backed towards the door.
"You too, Hop. Do you understand, dolt? I want to know where he has hidden the galleon's cargo, and then I want a good rousing execution. For your own good, you had better deliver both those things."
"Yes, your excellency."
"I want to speak to Slow John. Send him to me before he starts work tomorrow morning. I want to make certain that he fully understands his responsibilities."
"I will bring the executioner to you myself," Hop promised. it was dark when Hugo Barnard stopped work on the walls and ordered the lines of exhausted prisoners down into the courtyard. As Hal passed his father's cell on the way down the staircase, he
called desperately to him, "Father, can you hear me?"
When there was no reply, he hammered on the door with both his fists. "Father, speak to me. In the name of God, speak to me!" For once Manseer was indulgent. He made no attempt to force Hal to move on down the staircase and Hal pleaded again, "Please, Father. It's Hal, your son. Do you not know me?"
"Hal," croaked a voice he did not recognize. "Is that you, my boy?"
"Oh, God!" Hal sank to his knees and pressed his forehead to the panel. "Yes, Father. It is me."
"Be strong, my son. It will not be for much longer, but I charge you, if you love me, then keep the oath."
"I cannot let you suffer. I cannot let this go on."
"Hal!" His father's voice was suddenly powerful again. "There is no more suffering. I have passed that point. They cannot hurt me now, except through you."
Wilbur Smith - C09 Birds Of Prey Page 40