Wilbur Smith - C07 A Time To Die

by C07 A Time To Die(Lit)

  Once in the middle of the day, she woke and lay in Sean's arms to listen to the sound of the searching Hind.

  "China is working the riverbanks ahead of us," Sean whispered.

  The sound of the Hind's turbos rose and fell as it turned on each leg of the search pattern, and Claudia felt her stomach muscles knotting and contracting as it grew louder, passing only a short distance south of where they lay, and then finally faded into silence.

  "He's gone." Sean hugged her. "Get some sleep.

  She woke again with a sense of panic on her, but when she tried to MO ve she found herself held down firmly and the palm of someone's hand clamped painfully across her mouth. She turned her eyes sideways, and Sean's face was close to hers.

  "Quiet!" he breathed in her ear. "Not a peep out of you."

  When she nodded, he released her and rolled over to look out through the screen of swamp grass. She did the same and peered out across the shallow waters of the lagoon.

  At first she saw nothing. Then she heard someone singing. It was a sweet girlish treble softly piping a Shangane love song, and with it came the sound of light footfalls in the shallow lagoon water.

  The singing came very close, so close that Claudia instinctively shrank nearer to Sean and held her breath.

  Suddenly the singing girl stepped into the line of her vision through the aperture in the grass before Claudia's eyes. She was a slim, graceful lass, just past puberty, for though her features were sweet and childlike, her breasts were big and round as tsama melons. She wore only a ragged loincloth pulled up between her long, coltish legs and her skin glowed in the late afternoon sunlight like burnt molasses. She seemed as wild and fey as a spirit of the forest, and Claudia was instantly enchanted by her.

  In her right hand the girl carried a light reed fishing spear with multiple barbed grains, and as she waded softly through the lucid warm waters she held the spear poised to strike.

  Abruptly the song died on her lips and she froze for an instant, then lunged with the grace of a dancer. The shaft of the spear twitched in her hands, and with a happy little cry she lifted a long, slimy catfish clear of the water. It wriggled on the end of the spear, its wide whAered mouth gulping and grunting, and the girl clubbed its flattened skull and dropped it into the plaited-reed bag at her waist.

  She washed the fish slime from her small pink-palmed hands, picked up the spear, and resumed her fishing, coming on directly toward where they lay in the patch of swamp grass. Sean reached out and squeezed Claudia's arm, cautioning her not to move, ut the black girl was already so close that with a few more paces she would stumble over them.

  Suddenly she looked up, directly into Claudia's eyes. The two of them stared at each other for only a moment, then the girl whirled and darted away. In an instant Sean was up and racing after her, and from the grass on either side both Alphonso and Matatu rushed out to join the chase.

  The girl was halfway across the lagoon before they caught up with her; she tried to dodge and double back, but each way she turned there was one of them ready to cut her off and at last she stood at bay, wild -eyed and panting with terror but holding the fishing spear determinedly in front of her. Her courage and spirit were wasted against the three men facing her; like a cat surrounded by Alsatians, she had no chance of escape.

  Matatu feinted at her flank, and the instant she turned the point of the spear toward him Sean knocked it out of her hands and swept her up under his arm. He carried her kicking and clawing back to the island and dumped her on the dry land. She had lost both her straw bag and loincloth in the struggle, and she crouched naked and trembling, staring up at the men who surrounded her.

  Sean spoke to her in soft, soothing tones, but at first she would not reply. Then Alphonso questioned her, and as soon as the girl realized that he was of her own tribe, she seemed to relax slightly.

  After another few gently questions, she made a hesitant breathless response.

  ""What does she say?" Claudia could not restrain her concern for the child.

  "She is living here in the swamps to hide from the soldiers," Sean answered. "Renamo killed her mother and Frelimo took her father and the rest of her family away to cut trees in the forest. She escaped."

  They questioned the girl for almost an hour. How far ahead was the river? Was there a crossing? How many soldiers were there at the river? Where were the Frelimo cutting trees? As she replied to each question, the girl's terror abated. She seemed to sense Claudia's sympathy and looked toward her with a pathetic childlike trust.

  "I speak English a little, miss," she whispered at last.

  Claudia was startled. "How did you learn?"

  "At the mission, before the soldiers came and burned it and killed the nuns."

  "Your English is good." Claudia smiled at her. "What is your name, child?"

  "Miriam, miss."

  "Don't get too chummy," Sean warned Claudia grimly.

  "She's a darling little thing."

  Sean seemed about to reply but then thought better of it and looked up at the sunset instead. "Damn it, we have missed China's radio schedule. Let's get ready to move out. Time to get cracking."

  It took only minutes for them to gird up for the march, and with her pack on her back Claudia asked, "What about the girl?"

  "We'll leave her here," Sean said, but something in his voice and the way he looked away worried Claudia. She started to follow Sean as he stepped off the island into the water. Then she stopped and looked back. The black girl still squatted naked, staring after Claudia unhappily, but behind her stood Matatu, and he had the skinning knife in his right hand.

  Realization dashed over Claudia like a huge wave of icy anger.

  "Sean!" Her voice shook as she called him back. "What are you going to do to this child?"

  "Don't worry about it," he told her brusquely.

  "Matatu!" She began to tremble. "What are you going to do?"

  And he grinned at her. "Are you going to-T" She drew her finger across her own throat, and Matatu nodded merrily and showed her the knife.

  "Ndio, " he agreed. "Kufa. " She knew that Swahili word.

  Matatu had used it whenever her father had shot down an animal and Matatu had slit its throat. Suddenly she was shaking with anger. She rounded on Sean.

  "You're going to murder her!" Her voice was shrill with outrage and horror.

  "Wait, Claudia, listen. We can't leave her here. If they catch her it would be suicide."

  "You bastard!" she screamed at him. "You're as bad as any Renarno thug, as bad as China himself!"

  "It's our lives, don't you understand? It's survival."

  "I can't believe what I'm hearing!"

  "This is a hard, cruel land. If we are to survive, we have to live by those standards. We can't afford the folly of compassion."

  She wanted to attack him physically; she balled her fists in the effort of self-control, but her voice was still shrill. "Compassion and conscience are all that separate us from the animals." She drew a deep breath. "If you value what there is between us, you won't say anything more, you won't try to rationalize what you almost did to this child."

  "You prefer to be captured by General China?" he demanded.

  "Ms child, as you call her, won't hesitate to give them our exact whereabouts."

  "Don't, Sean! I'm warning you, everything you say is causing damage to our relationship that can never be repaired."

  "All right, then." Sean reached out to take her hands and draw her to him. "What do you want us to do with her? I'll do whatever you say. You want us to turn her loose to report to the first Renamo patrol that comes along, I'll do it."

  Claudia was standing rigid in the circle of his arms, and though the strident edge was gone from her voice, it was cold and determined. "We'll take her with us."

  Sean dropped his arms. "With us?"

  "That's what I said. If we can't leave her, then that's the only solution."

  Sean stared at her and she went on firmly, "You said you'
d do whatever I say. You made me a promise."

  He opened his mouth, then closed it and looked at the black girl.

  She had understood some of the argument, enough to know that her LIFE was at stake and that Claudia was her champion, her savior. When Sean saw the expression on the child's face, suddenly he was filled with shame and self-disgust. It was an alien sensation.

  During the bush war the Scouts had left no witnesses. This woman of his was turning him soft, he thought, then smiled and shook his head-or perhaps she was simply humanizing him.

  "All right." He was still smiling. "The girl comes with us on condition that you forgive me."

  Their kiss was bx*el, cool. Claudia's lips were tightly closed.

  Sean understood it would take time for her to recover from her outrage.

  She turned from Sean and lifted the black girl to her feet.

  Miriam clung to her thankfully.

  "Fetch her loincloth," Sean ordered Matatu. "And put your knife away. The girl is coming with us." Matatu rolled his eyes in disapproval. But he went to find the girl's single item of clothing.

  While Miriam rewound the scrap of rag around her waist, Sergeant Alphonso leaned on his rifle and watched her with interest.

  It was obvious that he was not unhappy with the decision to spare the girl. Claudia did not approve of his appraisal of her protegee, and she opened her small personal pack and dug out her one spare shirt, a camouflage Renamo sweatshirt from General China's stores.

  The shirt hung half down MtriajVs thighs and satisfied Claudia's sense of decorum. The black girl was delighted, her terror of a few minutes before forgotten as she Preened in her new finery.

  "Thank you, Donna, think you very much. You good lady."

  "All right," Sean intervened. "The fashion show is over. Let's move out." And Alphonso took Miriam's arm.

  only then did the girl realize she was being abducted, and she pulled away and broke into a passionate protest.

  "Damn it!" Sean exploded. "Now we are really in trouble! "what is it?" Claudia demanded.

  "She isn't alone. She's got others with her."

  "I thought she had lost her parents!"

  "That's right, but she's got a brother and sister hidden in the selves. Damn swamps. Two kids so young they can't fend for them it! Damn it!"

  Sean repeated bitterly. "Now what the hell do we do?"

  with us also," Claudia "We fetch the children and take them stated simply.

  "Two brats! Are you crazy? We aren,t running an orphanage."

  "Do we have to go over this one more time?" Claudia turned her back on him in exasperation and took Miriam's hand. "It's all right. You can trust me. We'll look after all of YOU."

  The black girl quieted and stared at Claudia with a puppy's trust and adoration.

  "I'ere are the children? We'll fetch them." hand into

  "Come, Donna. I show you." Miriam led her by the the swamp.

  It was almost dark when they reached the tiny island where Miriam had hidden the children in a clump of papyrus. When she parted the thick green stems, two pairs of huge dark eyes stared out at them like owlets from the nest.

  "A boy." Claudia lifted him out. He was five or six years of age skinny and shivering with fright. "And a girl." She was younger: not more than four, and Claudia exclaimed as she touched her.

  sick"" The little girl was too "She's burning up. This child is very weak to stand, and she lay curled like a dying kitten, trembling and mewling softly.

  "Malaria," said Sean, and squatted beside the child. "She's riddled with it."

  "We've got chloroquine in the medical pack." Claudia reached for it briskly.

  "This is madness!" Sean growled. "We can't lumber ourselves with this bunch. It's a nightmare!"

  "Do shut up!" Claudia snapped. "How many chloroquine do I give her? The instructions say, "For children under six years, consult a physician." Thanks a lot, we'll try two tablets."

  As they worked over the child, Claudia asked Miriam, "What are their names? What do you call the children?"

  The answer was so long and complicated that even Claudia looked daunted, but she recovered quickly. "I'll never pronounce that," she said finally. "We'll call them Mickey and Minnie."

  "Walt Disney will sue," Sean warned, but she ignored him and wrapped Minnie in her own blanket.

  "You'll have to carry her," she told Sean matter-of-factly.

  "If the little bugger pees on me, I'll wring her neck," he protested.

  "And Alphonso can carry Mickey."

  ts were thor Sean could see that Claudia's maternal inst inc additional burden that oughly aroused, and his resentment of this had been thrust upon them was tempered by seeing how the new responsibilities had changed her. Claudia had sloughed off her exhaustion and lethargy and was more vigorous and incisive than she had been since Job's death.

  Sean lifted the child's almost weightless little body onto his back and strapped it there with a strip of the blanket. The heat of the fever soaked through the blanket as though she were a hot-water bottle. However, it was a familiar experience to the child, who had been carried since infancy in this fashion, and she was immediately quiet and somnolent. "I still can't believe what's happening to me," Sean muttered. "A goddamned unpaid nursemaid at my age." But he plunged into the swamp once more.

  Before the night had h#ll run out, Miriam proved to be an asset that far outweighed the additional burden she and the two children had placed on them. She knew the river area with the intimacy of a swamp creature. She went ahead with Matatu and guided him through the labyrinth of islands and lagoons, picking out the secret pathways that saved them hours of wearisome exploration.

  A little after midnight, when Orion the great hunter stood directly overhead with his bow at full draw, Miriam led them out onto the bank of the Rio Save and pointed out the ford through which a man could wade to the far bank.

  They rested, and the women tended the children and fed them morsels of leguan meat. The chloroquine had taken effect, and the little girl was cooler and less fretful. After a hurried meal the men concealed themselves in the reed beds and stared out across the black waters in which the stars were reflected like drowning fireflies.

  "This is the most dangerous point," Sean whispered. "China was patrolling the river all day yesterday in the Hind, and he'll be back at first light. We don't dare waste time here. We have to get across and get clear before sunrise."

  "They'll be waiting on the far side," Alphonso demurred.

  "They'll be expecting us."

  "That's right," Sean agreed. "They are here, but we know they are here. We'll leave the women on this side and go across to clear the far bank. We can't use firearms, it will have to be knives and wire. It's wet work tonight." He used the old Scout term for it.

  "Sebenza enamanzi. In more ways than one, it will be wet work tonight."

  Sean's wire was a four-foot length of stainless steel, the single strand he had cut from the winch cable of the Hercules aircraft before abandoning it. Job had carved two hardwood buttons and fixed them to either end of the wire to form grips. It rolled into a coil the size of a silver dollar and slipped easily into the grenade pocket of his webbing. Now Sean fished it out and unrolled it. He tested it, settling the wooden buttons between his fingers and jerking it tight, grunting with satisfaction at the familiar tension in the single resilient strand. Then he recoiled the wire and slipped it over his left wrist like a ban e.

  The three of them stripped completely naked; wet clothing dripped water to alert an enemy or give him a hold in a hand-to hand struggle. Each of them wore his knife on a short cord around his bare neck.

  Sean went to where Claudia waited with the children in the reeds. When he kissed her, her lips were soft and warm and she clung to him briefly.

  "Have you forgiven me?" he asked. As answer UM again.

  "Come back soon," she whispered.

  The three men slid into the water soundlessly, keeping close contact, and dog-paddled qui
etly out from the bank, letting the current carry them well down below the ford.

  They landed in a bed of papyrus on the south bank and slid ashore on their bellies. Sean's naked white body gleamed in the starlight. He rolled in the sticky black swamp mud until it coated every inch of his skin, then scooped a double handful and rubbed it over his face.

  "Ready?" he asked quietly. He freed the trench knife in its sheath at his throat. "Let's go!"

  They moved out away from the river and circled back upstream toward the ford. The swamps were confined to the north bank, while this side of the river was drier and the forests grew almost to the river's edge. They stayed in the shadows beneath the trees for concealment. As they drew closer to the ford they moved more cautiously, spreading out, Sean in the middle and Alphonso and Matatu on the flanks.