Power of the Sword - Smith Wilbur. Страница 63

Seventy miles to the river, seventy miles at least. Lothar broke the silence, and he began to unwrap the filthy rags that covered his arm.

The swelling was grotesque. His hand was the size and shape of a ripe melon. The fingers stuck stiffly out of the blue ball of flesh. The swelling carried up the forearm to the elbow, trebling the girth of his lower limb, and the skin had burst open and clear lymph leaked out of the tears. The bite wounds were deep, slimy, yellow pits, the edges flared open like the petals of a flower, and the smell of infection was sweet and thick as oil in Lothar's own nostrils and throat, disgusting him.

Above the elbow the swelling was not So intense, but there were livid scarlet lines beneath the skin running right up to Lothar's shoulder. He reached up and gently explored the swollen glands in his armpit. They were hard as musket balls buried in his flesh.

Gangrene, he told himself, and he realized now that the carbolic acid solution with which he had originally cleansed the bite wounds had aggravated the condition. Too strong he muttered. Too strong solution. It had destroyed the capillary vessels around the wound, preparing the way for the gangrene that had followed. The hand should come off. He faced the fact at last, and for a moment he even considered attempting the operation himself. He imagined starting at the elbow joint and cutting I can't do it, he decided. I can't even think of it. I have to go on as far as the gangrene will let me, for Manie's sake. He looked up at the boy.

I need bandages. He tried to make his voice firm and reassuring, but it came out as a raven's croak, and the boy started and tore his eyes from the ravaged limb.

Lothar dusted the suppurating wounds with carbolic crystals, all that he had, and bound them up with strips of blanket. They had used up all their extra clothing for bandages.

How far is she behind us, Henny? he asked, as he knotted the bandage.

We have won time, Hendrick guessed. They must be saving their horses. But look at ours. of the animals had lain down at the edge of the water, One the sign of capitulation.

Five or six hours behind us. And it was seventy miles to the river, with no guarantee that the pursuers would honour the border and not pursue them across. Lothar did not have to voice those doubts; they were all too aware of them.

Manfred, he whispered. Bring the diamonds. The boy placed the canvas haversack beside Lothar and he unpacked it carefully.

There were twenty-eight of the small brown cartridge paper packages with their red wax seals. Lothar separated them into four piles, seven packages in each.

Equal shares, he said. We cannot value each package, so we will cut them four ways and give the youngest first pick. He looked across at Hendrick. Agreed? Swart Hendrick understood that the sharing of the booty was at last an admission that not all of them were going to reach the river. Hendrick lowered his eyes from Lothar's face. He and this golden-haired, white-skinned devil had been together since the far-off time of their youth. He had never considered what held them together. He felt a deep, unwavering antagonism and distrust towards all white men except this one. They had dared so much, seen so much, shared so much. He did not think of it as love or as friendship. Yet the thought of the parting which lay just ahead filled him with a devastating despair, as though a little death awaited him.

Agreed, he said, in that deep resonant tone, like the chime of a bass bell, and he looked up at the white boy. The man and the boy were one unit in Hendrick's mind. What he felt for the father was also for the son.

Choose, Manie, he ordered.

don't know. Manfred put both hands behind his back, reluctant to touch one of the piles.

Do it, snapped his father, and obediently he reached out and touched the nearest pile.

Pick them up, Lothar ordered, and then looked at the black youth.

Choose, Klein Boy. There were two piles left, and Lothar grinned through cracked lips. How old are you, Henny? As old as the burned mountain, as young as the first flower of spring, the Ovambo said, and they both laughed.

If I had a diamond for every time we have laughed together, Hendrick thought, I would be the richest man in the world. And it required an effort to keep the smile on his face. You must be younger than I am, he spoke aloud.

For I have always had to care for you like a nursemaid.

Choose! Lothar shoved his chosen pile across to Manfred. Put it in the haversack, he told him, and Manfred packed their s hare of the booty into the canvas bag and strapped it closed while the two black men filled the pockets of their tunics with their packages.

Now fill the water bottles. It's only seventy miles to the river, Lothar said.

When they were ready to leave Hendrick stooped to help Lothar to his feet, but he struck Hendrick's hands away irritably and used the trunk of the acacia to push himself upright.

One of the horses could not rise and they left it lying at the water's edge. Another broke down within the first mile, but the other two limped on gamely. Neither of them could any longer support the full weight of a man, but one carried the water bottles and Lothar used the other as a crutch. He staggered along beside it with his good arm draped over its neck.

The other three men took it in turns to lead the horses, and they trudged on determinedly northwards. Sometimes Lothar laughed without reason and sang in a strong, clear voice, carrying the tune so beautifully that Manfred felt a buoyant rush of relief. But then the singing quavered and his voice broke and cracked. He shouted and raved and pleaded with the fever phantoms that crowded about him, and Manfred ran back to hi-in and circled his waist with a helping arm and Lothar quieted down.

,YOU are a good boy, Manie, he whispered. You've always been a good boy. We are going to have a wonderful life from now on. A fine school for you, you will become a young gentleman, we'll go to Berlin together, the opera,, Oh! Papa, don't talk. Save your strength, Papa. And Lothar subsided once more into an oppressive silence, toiling on mechanically with his boots dragging and scuffing, and only the labouring horse and his son's strong young arm preventing him from crashing face forward onto the hot Kalahari sands.

Far ahead of them the first of the granite kopjes showed above the sparse heat-blighted forest. It was round as a pearl and the smooth rock glowed silver grey in the sunlight.

Centaine stopped her horse on the crest of the rise and looked down into the basin of land beyond. She recognized the tall trees from the top branches of which, many years before, she had glimpsed her first wild African elephant, and a little of the childlike wonder of that moment had remained with her over all that time. Then she saw the water, and all else was forgotten. It was not easy to control the horses once they had smelled it. She had heard of desert travellers dying of thirst at the water-hole when they allowed their cattle and horses to rush ahead and trample the water into thick mud. But Blaine and his sergeant were experienced men and controlled them firmly.

As soon as the horses had been watered and picketed, Centaine pulled off her boots and waded fully dressed into the pool, ducking under the surface to soak her clothing and her hair and revelling at the chill of the muddy water.

At the far end of the pool Blaine had stripped to his breeches and was knee-deep, scooping water over his head.

Centaine the studied him surreptitiously. It was the first time she had seen him bare-chested, and his body hair was thick and dark and springing, sparkling with water droplets. There was a small black mole below the nipple of his right breast, which for no good reason intrigued her, otherwise his body was without blemish; his skin had the sheen of polished marble, like the Michaelangelo statue of David, and his muscles were flat and hard-looking. The sun had stained a dark brown V below his throat and his arms were brown up to the distinct lines that his shirtsleeves had left; beyond that his skin was the pale ivory that she found so attractive that she had to look away from it.