Rise of an Eagle

by Margaret Way

  Morgan pressed on. When you knew how to handle Sultan he was as sweet-tempered as a mare. Birds exploded in their legions, winging alongside them, and soon Morgan came on the first water-hole, the verdant surrounds chopped up by many unshod hoof marks.

  'Hallelujah!' Morgan breathed. There was an army of hoof marks further up. The men were on the trail. They could have even set up a trap by now or decided on driving the brumbies into the already existing strongly built yards. Mostly these yards were fashioned out of stout logs, at the very least two metres high, driven deeply into the ground and held together by wire. The entrance to the trap was about one and a half metres and it was blocked by four strong slip rails that fitted into slots. Fanning out from the gateway were long, Y-shaped wings hidden by scrub. Once the brumbies were in, there was little chance of their getting out. The hard part was getting them to go in. Hard and often dangerous.

  The wind whistled eerily through the canyon, with the sun bouncing off the inflammable-looking rocks. A chain of shallow pools, surrounded by water-loving plants, ran cleanly through the centre of the carved corridor from entrance to exit, and the sheer sides rose in waves of spectacular colours: pink, rose, ivory, crimson, indigo. Morgan often thought her desert country had something of the character of ancient Egypt, but, where the pyramids had been man-built, the great desert monuments of the Outback had been fashioned by strange gods. Nowhere was more Australian than the Heartland.

  'C'mon, Sultan!' she urged as they rode out on to the dense floral carpet of Batchelor's Buttons. Soon she came on a holding yard and it immediately occurred to her, as it would have occurred to Ty and the men, that when the brumbies started running this was the place to drive them. A quick look around assured her that it was Ty's intention. Everything was in excellent working order and a split in the wire had been repaired and reinforced. She would have to take care now. The brumbies were following water and this area was laced with gullies. None knew better than the wild ones which routes to take through the bush. None dared follow them through thick growth.

  On a gibber-strewn ridge-top she got her first view of the herd: the massive grey stallion, leading the way, followed by mares, yearlings, and several foals bunched up tightly behind their mothers. There were about fourteen in all, manes and tails streaming, galloping without caution towards the men who were staked out ahead. Morgan had been with Ty more than once when he had lassoed a fleet-footed brumby they had chased for days. Only the best were retained. Most horses were gelded, rarely retained for breeding. The grey looked magnificent, even if he was a rogue.

  Moments later the entire outfit rode from cover, frightening the brumbies so that the stallion reared and plunged, his wild cry filling the air. The mares froze momentarily, waiting for direction, and the stallion came down hard on his powerful legs, seemed to brace, then broke immediately into a thundering gallop' the herd trailing behind. All they had to do was follow the leader, and to Morgan's surprise the number one mare was an ex-station hack. It hadn't taken her long to revert to the wild!

  With her blood racing, Morgan raced down from the ridge. She was certain she could help. She had done it before. Even E.J. had found a few words of praise for her, even if Ty had always called her a reckless little fool. Why was her personal safety more important than his? She could ride like the wind. Maybe it was her size. She was built like a jockey.

  Across the gold and white plain, a frantic Ernie Hudson had spotted her.

  'Gawd almighty!' he roared. Morgan's familiar figure was riding pell-mell towards the herd, enough to make any man go pale.

  The warning cry galvanised Ty. 'Stay right on them, then veer right.' His face was like thunder. 'I'll cut her off.'

  No need to ask who she was. Ernie's face worked.

  Lucifer broke out of the group, hammering up an impressive turn of speed. His ebony tail streamed out like a pennant as they flew across the flat. As the herd thundered towards her, Morgan rode hard to swing them away in the direction of the yard. The outfit were close behind, but Ty on Lucifer was riding straight for her. Even at a distance she could see his face set in a granite mould. It was all tied into his theory that she was useless. Some of the mares and foals had faltered, but there was never my doubt about the big stallion. It thundered on, its sides heaving like bellows.

  'Clear out!' Ty waved his fist furiously at her. 'Out of there, Morgan.' To do so would be to lose incalculable face. Domestic horses would have run right into the yard, but wild horses, like any wild creature, were a whole lot smarter.

  The stallion sensed not only danger but the holding yard ahead. Just as the men were closing, turning them straight for the yard, the stallion suddenly broke, a stark reminder of its spirit and fantastic cunning. The mares and yearlings were being gathered in with whinnies of terror, but the stallion, fire in its lungs, sought the gap. Only Morgan on Sultan challenged it, and it made the decision to charge.

  'Close up on 'em!' Ernie shouted as the rest of the herd galloped right behind the number one mare. She was leading them right in behind her to the waiting trap.

  Sultan half reared as he saw the wild stallion thundering towards them, and for the first time Morgan knew a terrible apprehension. Her mind doubted it, yet it was happening. A wild horse was challenging her. It was startling, its destructive aura. There wasn't a single thing she could do but get out of the way. It was a powerful- looking brute and Ty was yelling non-stop for her to clear out.

  She wheeled immediately, feeling a wave of panic, and incredibly the wild stallion tracked her in a spectacular territorial display. She had never experienced anything like it. It was not meant to go this way. Now Ty thundered by her, riding straight at the grey stallion. The stallion, momentarily bewildered, turned its attention to breaking the dominion of the big black. No faint-hearted horse, let alone rider, could have faced such a dangerous and unpredictable menace.

  There was a roaring in Morgan's ears, her heart turned to stone, but Ty's whip lashed out, forcing the wild stallion to break in its terrible stride. The whole image came close to that of a magnificent wild lion and its fearless tamer. Morgan was to be left with a lasting impression. It burned itself into her brain, so that many years later she shuddered when she remembered that particular morning.

  Could she really have done that? No, she couldn't. Accustomed as she was to seeing daily displays of fine horsemanship, she had never seen such daring or acceleration. She took her first real look at her own recklessness. But for Ty, the stallion would have churned her into the ground. He had ridden directly into danger, with never a thought for himself. Literally hurled himself and Lucifer into the front-line with breathtaking courage.

  The result of the violent flight of the stallion was that it hurtled into camp like a rocket, so that the men on the ground had to make a frantic run for the trees. The station mare began to scream, hurling herself at the slip rail while the foals huddled for cover. One of the men, one leg stiff from an old injury, turned in fright as the stallion spewed its fury, until Ty, making the only decision he could, dropped the brumby with one shot.

  It fell with a heavy thud, and quite extraordinarily the mare stopped her screaming, seemingly bereft of all spirit. She stood to attention, and as Morgan rode into the clearing it was to a stunned and shocked silence.

  Morgan looked at Ty miserably. 'Ty, oh, Ty, a thousand thanks!'

  He stepped right up to her and pulled her down off her horse. 'It's a short trip to the grave,' he thundered, anger in every inch of his finely tuned body.

  She had never seen him so angry. There was an odd pallor beneath his skin and his blue eyes glittered with' strange lights. 'What can I say? I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' She stood before him, her small face pale and uplifted.

  'Sorry!' he shouted, and grabbed her.

  'Hey, boss!' Ernie Hudson, Jahandra's respected foreman, took one look at Ty's face and risked intervention. On the one hand Morgan's grandfather had stood back and invited her to break her neck, now her cousin was in a fury of f
right. Ernie knew which reaction he preferred, but he couldn't stand by and allow little Miss Morgan to come to any harm.

  'Out of my way, Ernie,' Ty warned him, a powerhouse of energy and young-man strength.

  'What are you gonna do, boss?'

  Ty swore. He took a quick look around, then, while the men stood frozen, stunned, he dragged Morgan to a fallen stump, sat on it and pulled her over his knee, administering several short, hard whacks to her small, defenceless rear.

  'Spare the rod and spoil the child,' he said. 'You're not brave. You're a lunatic! Pride is a sin!'

  Morgan said nothing. She made no movement. She didn't cry out. She took her punishment like a man. She saw now the fear she had inflicted on him. On them all. Every last man looked shocked. Men saw death, wars, but their blood ran cold over women. Protection was their natural role. She saw that now.

  'What have you got to say for yourself?' Ty demanded at length. A muscle worked along his jaw and his eyes were the burning blue of the desert sky.

  She wanted to beg his forgiveness. Beg all of them to forgive her. Instead she said fierily, 'This isn't going to look good when we get into court.' Did he really think she was going to cave in that easily?

  'Why, for God's sake, did you do it?' he asked, not even deigning to acknowledge her remark.

  'Seems to me I've done it before.'

  Ernie walked up to them, twisting his battered hat round and round in his hands. 'You must understand E.J. encouraged her, boss.'

  'Don't talk to him, Ernie. I'm here!'

  'Beggin' your pardon, miss—you've just given us a terrible fright.'

  'And I'm sorry, Ernie. I'm sorry, all of you.' Morgan stretched a pleading hand towards the waiting semicircle of men. 'But we've never had trouble before.'

  'Damn it, the stallion was a rogue. You knew it!' Ty boomed. 'I've tried everything I know with you, to no avail. We don't need you to hare around like a dare-devil jackeroo. You've been lucky to reach twenty.'

  'OK!' Morgan said stormily. 'You've had your say. And now we all know you're capable of physical violence. I really don't appreciate being ticked off in front of the men.'

  'Every last one of them has watched you grow up,' Ty gritted. 'So much for admiring your fearlessness, you've turned them all grey.'

  'I'm no one special,' she countered.

  'You're special to them, Morgan. Can't you understand that?'

  Ernie sighed. 'That's a fact. Don't like to speak ill of the dead, but E.J. was one heck of an old bull, so strict and stem, yet he let you do things no man would allow his daughter. I got daughters, Miss Morgan, you know that. They do plenty for their husbands, even tough things occasionally, but it's the unwritten law that anything dirty or dangerous is for the man!'

  'And I'm a droopy, drippy female?' Morgan asked.

  'You're not very bright!' Ty said shortly.

  Nobody laughed.

  Morgan averted her eyes from the fallen stallion. 'Did you have to shoot it?'

  'Yes, Morgan, I did,' Ty, the horse-lover, responded curtly. 'I imagine Al might thank me, if you don't.'

  'Set to kill me, miss,' Al insisted. 'Probably would have, only the boss moved so fast. You can never trust a wild horse. Never. You oughta remember that.'

  'I will, Al,' Morgan promised. 'Sorry to spoil your morning.'

  'I'll ride with you, Morgan, as far as the Two Mile,' said Ty.

  'My fondest wish is to be on my own.'

  Whatever he felt like saying, he spared her. He lifted himself into the saddle while Ernie gave Morgan a leg up.

  They rode out of camp in silence, Morgan attempting to hide her confusion. Under his tough veneer, Ty too was shaken. He was the complete opposite of E.J., yet the spark of genius burned brightly in both of them. E.J., for all his faults, and maybe because of them, had built up a mighty pastoral empire. Ty was the fitting guardian, not only that, Morgan knew in her bones it wouldn't stop there. Ty was committed to achievement. Much as she admired him, and of course she did, it didn't help her. There was no pleasure in being second best. She would never accept it.

  'I'm sorry,' he announced suddenly in a voice of extreme impatience.

  'You want to talk to me?' she asked haughtily.

  'Don't take that tone with me. Once started I mightn't be able to stop. I'm not sorry I turned you over my knee. That was long overdue. I'm sorry I was provoked to the point I did it in front of the men.'

  Morgan laughed. 'It's a deep-rooted tradition, isn't it, using physical violence on women?'

  'With some women, I'm afraid, there's no alternative,' he returned crisply. 'I practically begged you to give up, I even locked you in your room. How did you get out, by the way?'

  'Simple! I climbed over the balustrade and inched along to the big vine. It held me easily. I knew it would.'

  'You took a hell of a risk,' he sighed. 'The homestead is in desperate need of repair and restoration. All those millions, and E.J. savoured every cent. How the devil did he get to be so mean?'

  'Maybe he was planning on leaving you the richest man in the country.'

  He ignored her sarcasm. 'Every man needs a successor. I'm going to need mine.'

  'I do hope Camilla has everything in working order.'

  'Is that how you hurt your elbow?'

  'No problem with my elbow.'

  'Ever the little stoic! Do you know what your big problem is, Morgan?'

  'Deprivation?' Her eyes flashed.

  'E.J. has passed on to you his own warped view of your sex. Instead of being reared a female and rejoicing in it, you're going through life furious you're not a male.'

  'May I point out, males get the spoils of this world. I am E.J.'s only grandchild. You rule by divine right. My only role is being companion to you. Your mistress, if you take a mind to it. Let Camilla bear the perfect children, the first-born son your successor. You can balance her dullness with me on the side.'

  'Aren't you rather young to be so bitter?' he asked sombrely.

  'In fact, I'm not young at all. While you and the twins were doted on by your parents—of course your womenfolk adore you—I survived on school friendships, on the interest and encouragement of my teachers. Fine women with brains. I'm all for developing a woman's brain and spirit. I am a woman, you know.'

  'Morgan, you're the most female female I know, but you're at war with it. You won't allow yourself to enjoy what you are. I don't like this bitterness. I won't stand around and watch it grow. You have everything in this world going for you. You're beautiful, you're bright, you're perfectly healthy. You're even very rich.'

  'But not as rich as you.'

  'It's not the money, Morgan.' He silenced her. 'You don't give a damn about money. I know you. It's your feeling of powerlessness. Underneath it all you're still a little lost child. There ought to be laws against allowing a man like E.J. to bring up a child. For God's sakes, don't let him win. Can't you see he tried to rear you in the male role?'

  'I'm not a fool.'

  'So all this reckless striving is a consequence. You always had to prove yourself. It was criminal. You don't have to prove anything with me. Or anyone else for that matter. You're much admired. Can't you accept that?'

  'And that's it in a nutshell, isn't it? A woman has to accept things. Her passivity is much prized.'

  'No one could call you passive.'

  'You don't have to accept anything, Ty.'

  His blue eyes brushed her. 'I can't walk away from you.'

  'So there it is. You saved my life again.'

  'I didn't think you would really like to die.'

  Morgan let her gaze range widely over the luminous plains. 'I want to go with Cecilia and the girls when you fly them to Tyson's Landing.'

  'Why? Are you afraid?' He turned his head to look at her.

  'I would say I have reason to be.'

  'I would never do anything, Morgan, against your will. Not even with your consent, though things are getting and of torrid. I'll take you back, by all means. Mot
her will be delighted. Sandra told me you're desperately in need of new clothes. Why don't you girls fly to Sydney for a few weeks? Stay at the penthouse. You need a complete break.'

  Her lovely mouth down-turned. 'I don't trust you, Ty, when you're being considerate.'

  'On the contrary, trusting me makes you angry. All this love-hate is scary.'

  'I would hardly call it that,' she parried, as coolly as she could.

  'What would you call it, Morgan?'