The Burning Shore - Smith Wilbur - Страница 110
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These gaps were guarded by other guerillas. Garry saw only the tops of their heads and the glint of their rifle barrels amongst the rocks, and he noticed how cunningly the site for the rendezvous had been chosen. Nobody could follow them undetected. An army would not be able to rescue them. They were totally vulnerable, completely at the mercy of these rough hard men. Garry shivered in the sweltering gut of the canyon.
We'll be damned lucky to get out of this, he muttered to himself, and then aloud, My leg is hurting. Can't we rest? But no one even looked back at him, and he stumbled forward to keep as close to Anna as he was able.
Quite unexpectedly, long after Garry had relapsed into resigned misery, the Ovambo guide stepped around the corner of a yellow sandstone monolith and into a temporary camp site under an overhanging cliff on the river bank. Even in his exhaustion and unhappiness, Garry saw that there was a steep pathway up the canyon wall behind the camp, an escape route against surprise attack.
They have thought of everything. He touched Anna's arm and pointed out the path, but all her attention was on the man who sauntered out from the deep shadow of the cavern.
He was a young man, half Garry's age, but in the first seconds of their meeting he made Garry feel inadequate and foolish. He didn't have to say a word. He merely stood in the sunlight and stared at Garry with a catlike stillness about his tall elegant frame, and Garry was reminded of all the things he was not.
His hair was golden, hanging to his bare shoulders, streaked white by the sun, yet as lustrous as raw silk, offering a startling contrast to his deeply tanned features.
These might once have been as beautiful as those of a comely girl, but all softness had been burned by the flames of life's furnace, and like forged iron, the marks of the anvil had been left upon them.
He was tall but not gawky or round-shouldered, and he was lean, with hard, flat muscle. He wore only ridingbreeches and boots, and the hair on his chest sparkled like fine copper wire. Around his neck on a gold chain he had hung a small gold locket, something that no English gentleman would ever do. Garry tried to feel superior, but under that flat level gaze it was difficult.
Colonel Courtney, he said, and again Garry was taken off balance. Though accented, it was the voice of an educated and cultivated man, and his mouth altered shape, losing its hard stern line as he smiled.
Please do not be alarmed. You are Colonel Courtney, are you not? Yes. It took an effort for Carry to speak. I am Colonel Courtney, did you write the letter? He took the poster from his breast pocket, and tried to unfold it, but his hands were shaking so that it fluttered and tore in his fingers. The man's smile gently mocked him as he nodded, Yes, I sent for you. You know where the lost girl can be found? Anna demanded, stepping closer to him in her eagerness.
Perhaps, he shrugged.
You have seen her? Anna insisted.
First things come first. You want money- Garry's voice was unnecessarily loud. Well, I have not brought a single sovereign with me. You can be sure of that. If your intention is to rob us, I have nothing of value on me. Ah, Colonel, the golden man smiled at him, and it was so charming, so unexpectedly exuberant and boyish that he could feel Anna's stiff and antagonistic stance melt beneath that smile, my nose tells me that is not true. He sniffed theatrically. You have something of immense value, Havana! he said and sniffed again. No doubt about it, Havana! Colonel, I must warn you that I would kill for a Havana cigar. took a hurried step backwards involuntarily Garry before he realized it was a jest. Then he grinned weakly and reached for the cigar case in his hip pocket.
The golden man inspected the long black cigar. Romeo y Julieta! he murmured reverently and then sniffed it lovingly. A whiff of Paradise. He bit off the tip and struck a match off the sole of his boot. He sucked the flame into the cigar and closed his eyes with ecstasy.
When he opened them again, he bowed slightly to Anna.
I beg your pardon, madam, but it has been a long time, over two years, since I tasted a good cigar.
All right, Garry was bolder now. You know my name and you are smoking my cigar, the least you can do is introduce yourself. Forgive me. He drew himself up and snapped his heels together in the teutonic manner. I am Lothar De La Rey, at your service. ,oh my God, all Garry's new-found courage deserted him. I know all about you. There is a price on your head - they'll hang you when they catch you. You are a wanted criminal and a notorious outlaw, sir. My dear Colonel, I prefer to think of myself as a soldier and patriot.
Soldiers do not go on fighting and destroying property after a formal surrender. Colonel Franke capitulated nearly four years ago- I did not recognize Colonel Franke's right to surrender, Lothar interjected contemptuously. I was a soldier of the Kaiser and Imperial Germany. Even Germany surrendered three months ago.
Yes, Lothar agreed. And I have not perpetrated an act of war since then. But you are still in the field, Garry pointed out indignantly. You are still under arms, and- I have not gone in to give myself up yet for the very good reason that you have so succinctly stated: if I do, your people will hang me As if under Garry's scrutiny he had suddenly become aware that he was bare to the waist, Lothar reached for his tunic. Freshly laundered, it hung from a thorn bush beside the entrance to the cave. As he shrugged into it, the brass buttons sparkled and Garry's eyes narrowed, Damn you, sir, your insolence is insupportable. That's a British military tunic, you are wearing one of our uniforms. That in itself is cause enough to shoot you out of hand! Would you prefer I went naked, Colonel? It must be obvious even to you that we are reduced in circumstances. It gives me no pleasure to wear a British jacket.
Unfortunately there is no choice. You insult the uniform in which my son died I take no pleasure in your son's death, just as I take no pleasure in these rags. By God, man, you have the effrontery- Garry puffed himself up to deliver a devastating broadside, but Anna cut across him impatiently.
Mijnheer De La Rey, have you seen my little girl? And Garry subsided as Lothar turned back to her, his features taking on a strangely compassionate cast.
I saw a girl, yes, I saw a young girl in the wilderness, but I do not know if she was the one you seek Could you lead us to her? Garry demanded, and Lothar glanced at him, his expression hardening again. I would try to find her again on certain conditions. Money, said Garry flatly.
Why are rich men always obsessed with their money? Lothar drew on the cigar, and let the fragrant smoke trickle over his tongue. Yes, Colonel, I would need some money, he nodded. But not 5,000. I would need 1,000 to equip an expedition to go into the desert fastness where I first saw her. We will need good horses, ours are from out, and wagons to carry water, and I would almost w need to pay my men. 1,000 would cover those expenses. What else?
Garry demanded, There must be some other price. Yes, Lothar nodded. There is. I am tired of living in the shadow of the gallows. you want a pardon for your crimes! Garry stared incredulously. What makes you think that is in my power! A personal friend of You are a powerful man, Colonel.
both Smuts and Botha, your brother is a general, a cabinet minister in the Botha Government, I would not thwart the course of justice. to the I fought an honourable war, Colonel. I fought it d Botha once fought bitter end, like your friends Smuts an their war. I am no criminal, I am no murderer. I lost a father, a mother, a wife and a son, I paid the price of defeat in a heavy coin. Now, I want the right to live the life of an ordinary man, and you want this girl. ,I couldn't agree to that. You are an enemy, Garry blustered.
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