Man of Fire

Home > Other > Man of Fire > Page 11
Man of Fire Page 11

by Margaret Rome


  Slowly, he answered, 'The herb doctor has no objection to showing me the secret methods he uses to brew his potion, but he insists that if a woman were to be present during its preparation it would turn out weak and useless. You must accept, señorita, the importance these natives place upon ritual. The ingredients he uses are not half so important to success, in his eyes, as the elaborate ceremony he conducts while the brew - the jambi - boils. He believes that even though he might have the right pots, the right firewood, the right temperature for cooking the ingredients, his efforts will be worthless unless he adheres strictly to the rules that have been handed down to him through generations. He must eat only certain foods, drink only certain liquids, days before he begins, and, most important of all, he has to ensure that only certain chosen people look upon him while the jambi is in the process of being made. So you see what we are up against,' he concluded heavily.

  The bitter disappointment she felt was mirrored in her wide eyes. She had wanted so much to return to her aunt with the triumphant news of a new discovery, mainly, she only then acknowledged, because she felt it would have made up to Chris in a small way for her selflessness. But if what he said was true, that wish would never be fulfilled. Despair, and a choked-up sense of failure, made her voice quaver when she appealed,

  'Is that his last word on the subject? Is there no chance that he might change his mind?'

  His eyes seemed to penetrate her very soul, reading every secret hope and fear, while he frowned down at her. He half nodded, then hesitated and turned once more to the herb doctor and began speaking forcefully and with such a determined expression that she might have begun to feel sorry for the overwhelmed doctor were it not for the fact that the señor's words and manner seemed to be having the desired effect. Instead of the decisive gestures of refusal he had given earlier, the herb doctor now seemed less sure, although still reluctant As she watched, the señor surprised her by suddenly flourishing his rifle in the herb doctor's startled face. After a few more terse words, the herb doctor began to back away from them both and then he turned on his heel and ran swiftly in the direction of the communal hut where signs of activity were only then becoming apparent.

  The señor grinned as he hastened to satisfy her bewildered curiosity. 'I have threatened him with the power of my "fire-stick", but have also assured him that its magic will protect him from all evil so long as he does as we ask. At first he refused. He insisted that his wife, who at this moment is in labour, will lose the child if he should disobey the wishes of his ancestors. I countered that by promising that no harm will come to his child if he obeys my wishes, but that the consequences will be very serious if he does not. He has gone, at my suggestion, to consult his chief as to whether my magic is stronger than that of his ancestors. If the chief comes down on my side, then you will get your wish. I only hope that if he agrees to do as I ask,' his grin became tight,' his child has an easy birth. Otherwise ...'

  But Tina refused to even consider the unvoiced possibility. The search for the remedy meant more to her than ever now. If successful, it would be the one good thing to come out of this disastrous trip and would make all the nerve-racking weeks worthwhile. So she stammered out, 'But that's wonderful news! When will we know the chiefs verdict?'

  Again he frowned and hesitated before telling her, 'There is something else you should know, señorita. These things cannot be rushed. We will need to sit through hours of meaningless ritual before you are able to sort out the basic facts and, unfortunately, the preparation of the jambi takes at least three days.'

  A silence fell while she considered the implication of his words. Three days! How could she bear to live through three more days and nights in such close proximity with a man she loved but who behaved towards her with the meditated cruelty of a Spanish Inquisitor? Would her nerves stand the strain of the prolonged vigilance she would need to keep if he were not to discover her weakness? How unbelievably tortured she would feel if his probing words and assessing eyes should rob her of her last vestige of pride. But she had to do it! It was unthinkable that she should give up now when she was so near to her goal. She squared her shoulders, her mind made up, and told him,

  'Very well, señor, I am willing to remain if you are.'

  An hour later, acting upon the advice of his chief, the herb doctor led them into the jungle. The spot where he tended his brew was near enough the village for word to be sent to him each day of his wife's progress, and Tina, as she noted his fathomless eyes resting upon her from time to time during the journey, felt alarmed when she allowed herself to wonder what would happen to them both should anything befall either his child or its mother. She blanked off her mind from dwelling upon what might occur, but the sight of the gun the señor had carried with him since they left camp brought a small measure of comfort.

  They had enough food to last the two of them for three days - the herb doctor would be fasting - and as they would not be able to return to camp until the job was completed, the señor carried hammocks and sleeping nets in his bag. After journeying through the forest for an hour, they reached a small clearing which held evidence of recent occupation. Burnt out twigs and chaired grass indicated the site of the herb doctor's previous labours, and a ramshackle hut into which he immediately disappeared was obviously his sleeping place. He stayed inside for quite some time, and when he eventually re-emerged the hammocks had been strung up, ready for occupation when darkness should descend.

  Tina was impatient to begin, but the doctor still seemed reluctant to allow her to participate. Finally, however, he held out his open palm towards her, showing a distinctive-shaped leaf, and she realized with a surge of thankfulness that he was telling her to collect as many of them as she could find. The grateful smile with which she accepted the proffered leaf was returned by a suspicious scowl. Instinctively, she looked to the señor for guidance and was comforted a little when he reassured her, 'Don't let the doctor's animosity trouble you too much, señorita. His is a perfectly natural reaction when you consider how reluctant he must feel at being forced to become the first one to disregard a custom revered for centuries. In his own mind, he is convinced great disaster will befall him for his wickedness. We must humour him and hope his courage will not desert him.'

  She was glad of the señor's silent company as they searched the surrounding forest for the required leaves. Sudden unaccountable movements in the bush were enough to send her hastily, and with a thumping heart, back to his side, but if he noticed her timidity he did not comment upon it. They gathered the leaves until dusk threatened, then they made their way back to the clearing where the herb doctor sat immobile, staring with fixed intensity towards the tangled bush. The señor held up a silencing hand, then guided her to the far end of the clearing where their hammocks were hung.

  'We must not disturb his meditation,' he cautioned.

  After depositing the leaves carefully on the ground, he gestured towards her hammock and sent her pulses racing by teasing lightly, 'Why don't you rest and I'll bring you your supper?'

  'No, thank you,' she froze, 'I'll have it here, if you don't mind.'

  The teasing light disappeared from his eyes and his mouth straightened into a thin line.

  'Very well,' he clipped, 'if you refuse to be friendly there is not much I can do about it!'

  Friendly! The word sent bitterness welling through her. How did he think she could find it possible to ignore all his hurtful jibes and even more hurtful actions? Friendship between two people was a slowly maturing plant that thrived on common interest and mutual goodwill, and the lack of both had been conspicuously absent during their frequent clashes. He dropped down beside her on a convenient tree-trunk and proffered a handful of dried dates.

  'I'm sorry the choice is so limited, but tomorrow I'll scout around and see what I can find to vary our diet. There should be fruit and nuts, perhaps, even honey.'

  'Thank you,' she accepted them grudgingly, too conscious of his nearness to be entirely at ease. He st
artled her by reaching out and covering her hand with his own. Hastily, before she could jerk it away, he appealed, 'Señorita, we are the only two people in this vast area who are truly civilized, surely we can set an example to the so-called savages who are our hosts by subduing our animosity for the few short days we shall be here?'

  Nervous reaction caused her to jump to her feet, scattering her handful of dates amongst the grass. She had to say something to hide the treacherous yearning that had reared up inside her at his touch and tension made her voice ragged when she answered.

  'I do not want friendship from you, señor, not now, not ever! In fact, after last night, I'd be satisfied never to see you again. I know,' she plunged recklessly, 'that you are missing your charming companion, Doña Inez, but that does not excuse your trying to use me as her substitute!'

  He took a deep breath arid forced calmness to his tone. 'But I thought that was your idea, originally,' he countered smoothly, the cold glitter again evident in his deep blue eyes. When scarlet colour flooded her face he laughed, not unkindly, and surprised her by urging, 'Let us call pax for the sake of peace. This terrain is rugged enough without having to contend with the additional burden of a prickly companion. Come,' he held out his hand, 'I apologize sincerely for my previous lapses. Will you shake hands and promise, if not to be friends, then at least to cease these wearying hostilities? Please say you will... Tina.'

  Her name on his lips sounded like the tinkling of small bells, and in spite of herself she was disarmed. Unknowingly, she made a discovery many women had made previously: when Ramon Vegas was in a persuasive mood he was truly irresistible. A shy blush betrayed her uncertainty and he smiled - an appealing, penitent smile - and extended his hand further. In a bemused, trance-like state, she slowly lifted her hand until it was on a level with his, then shivered when she felt his strohg clasp. He murmured gently, 'Thank you, Tina, for your generosity. Will you let me hear you say my name so that I'll know that there is a hope that we might become friends?'

  In that magic moment, with all doubts subdued, it seemed a small thing to ask. 'Very well... Ramon,' she capitulated, feeling rather lightheaded. He smiled and lifted her hand to his lips for a fraction of time before releasing it, then he gave a satisfied sigh and stretched out beside her, a small half smile quirking his lips, and watched through lowered lids while she finished her meal.

  She no longer felt hungry, but the interval she spent chewing the dates gave her time to attempt to overcome the overwhelming sensation of shyness that had succeeded his totally unsuspected approach and to subdue her frantic senses into some semblance of order. But when he spoke again it was as if he sensed her confusion and was at pains to disperse it. His voice was full of a negligent good humour which was emphasized by the somnolent grace of his body as he lay relaxed and contented but, like the wary puma, ever watchful. Gradually, as he spoke, her nervousness was lost amongst the deep interest his subject aroused in her. The beauty and savagery of the jungle; the appeal of lonely places and his keen desire to help the aborigine people of the area were brought to life for her by the poetry of his words. His obvious sensitivity amazed her, but, in retrospect, it occurred to her that his contradictory qualities of dreamer and man of action were an integral part of the character of a true explorer. He spoke of his home in the fertile low country where the land yielded crops of bananas, coconuts, and sugar, with tropical exuberance, and of the coffee growing and cattle rearing in the hills around it.

  She interrupted him to ask, 'Why do you leave your home so frequently, señor, when you are so obviously happy there?'

  'Why?' he shrugged. 'Mainly, I suppose, because of a desire to eradicate from the minds of these much abused natives the idea that all white men are their enemies. Up until a few months ago their only experience of white men was confined to chance encounters with rubber planters who, unfortunately, and simply because of their fear of them, treated all natives like animals and had little regard for their customs and beliefs. Then recently, I was approached by the Brazilian government to join a Commission to deal solely with the welfare of these people, to liberate them from their bondage of ignorance so that one day they might take their place amongst the people of the world with as much ease as do the Indians of North America, today.'

  He frowned deeply and for a time seemed lost in thought, then his startlingly blue eyes lightened with determination as he went on, 'It will be a long and uphill task, but it will be done. It must be done! Perhaps not by my generation, nor the next, but some day the work began this year will be successfully completed, and then, and only then, will Brazil be able to sit back with the assurance that she has nurtured all of her children.'

  Tina felt herself swept along on the surge of his enthusiasm. The deep feeling betrayed by his words made her doubly proud - proud of loving him and proud that she had chosen such a man to love. She wished she could help him to realize his ambition; to be at his side when his plans reached fruition. Eagerly, she broke the silence that had fallen. 'Please go on, señor, I want to hear more!'

  His black eyebrows lifted. 'Señor?' he rebuked.

  She blushed; it still required effort to address his dark arrogance with familiarity. 'Ramon, then ...' she stumbled.

  He sat up with lithesome ease and smiled down at her. 'But I have talked enough about myself. I want to hear about you. All I know is that you are English -very, very English!' he stressed, still smiling, 'and I would be interested to discover what kind of background has fashioned such an anomaly — an ice maiden with a fiery crest!' He was close enough to touch the long plait she had reverted to wearing, but he merely let his eyes linger along its burnished length in appreciative silence until she answered.

  'There is very little in my life which would be of interest to you, señ ... Ramon,' she hastily amended. 'My days at home are mostly spent working in the Botanical Gardens at Kew and in my spare time I study. My aunt and I share a flat in London. We have occasional dinner parties to which we invite our friends, mostly scientists, and sometimes we are asked out to a theatre or to a meal. Compared with yours, my life is very routine and uneventful.'

  'You surprise me.' His words were a casual drawl, but underneath she sensed his deep interest and, too late, she was aware that she had slipped up. His gradual winning of her confidence had disarmed her into being completely open with him and for one sickening moment she wondered if it had been done deliberately. She reminded herself fiercely to be more on guard, before covering up quickly,

  'Of course, that's only when I'm actually in London.' She deliberately steeled herself to lie. 'But those occasions are fortunately very few. If I didn't have my frequent trips abroad to sustain me I couldn't endure such uneventful mediocrity.'

  'I understand.' His words were courteous, but his voice was blank and expressionless. She felt that in some way she had disappointed him and searched his face for some sign to confirm this. But thick black lashes screened his eyes, eyes that had never lied to her even though their message had often been painful, and he stood up abruptly so that she could no longer see his face. With chilling abruptness, he informed her,

  'It is late, señorita, and time we said goodnight. Buenas noches!' He bowed and abruptly turned away.

  Her heart ached as she registered his return to formality, and as she watched him go her faltering 'Hasta mañana' faded, unheeded, into the emptiness surrounding her.

  8

  THE following morning it became obvious that the herb doctor had decided to regress. He did not refuse to continue with the preparation of the brew, in so many words, but when he had gathered up the special ingredients he needed - the roots of one plant, the bark of others - and added them to the pile of leaves they had so painstakingly collected the evening before, he seemed strangely loath to continue. He kept darting furtive glances into the bush as if waiting for some sign or happening, and as the sun rose higher over the clearing the señor began to show signs of impatience. He spoke sharply to the herb doctor, urging him to begin,
but his response was to mutter unintelligible words and to roll his eyes heavenwards as if entreating his gods to send a sign that they were not displeased with him.

  Seconds later, there was a crashing noise from the surrounding bush which preceded a messenger from the village who ran into the clearing towards the herb doctor. He was panting so much with exertion he had to struggle to control his breathing before imparting his news. The message he had brought seemed to cause further agitation, because not even the señor's rapid intervention could calm the doctor's obvious excitement. Tina waited until she could stand the suspense no longer, then she hurried over to the group of arguing men and tugged at the señor's sleeve.

  'Please tell me what's going on. Has something dreadful happened?'

  Tersely, he explained, 'The herb doctor's wife has given birth to a man child.'

  Her face cleared. 'But that's wonderful, it means we can carry on ...'

  'No!' The señor sounded very angry. 'The doctor claims that if he makes the jambi now his child will sicken and die, and he insists that he must wait another six months before he dares to defy his gods. With a girl child he might have taken the risk, but not with a son.'

  Her arm dropped from his sleeve as his words registered. 'Then there's nothing we can do. If jungle witchcraft forbids it...'

  But he did not intend to give up so easily. 'Jungle witchcraft can be called upon to forbid almost anything the natives do not want to do,' he bit out. 'I reckon it is time to call the herb doctor's bluff!' Swiftly, he turned to the obdurate doctor and began speaking rapidly. Tina's bewilderment increased when she saw him take a packet of peppermints from his pocket and press one of the round white discs into the palm of the doctor's hand, all the while speaking with impressive urgency. The doctor looked down at the sweet, spat between his fingers two or three times while the señor spoke, then, delicately, he placed the disc upon his tongue.

 

‹ Prev