Man of Fire

by Margaret Rome

  For a second his face remained blank, then gradual amazement spread over his face and he opened his mouth wide to alleviate the heat upon his tongue. Fear and pleasure waged a visible battle for supremacy as Tina and the señor waited in silence for his decision. When finally, after long minutes, he bowed low to the ground at the señor's feet, then jumped up to hasten towards his pots, Tina knew the battle had been won. She sagged against the señor and asked him weakly,

  'Would you please relieve my curiosity by telling me what you said to him?'

  'Certainly.' Now that the suspense was over he was relaxed and smiling. 'Do you wish me to repeat it verbatim, or will a general outline do?'

  'Anything,' she begged, 'just tell me!'

  He laughed at her impatience and succinctly obliged. 'I reminded him that for many moons his people have known that my words have always been good; that the goods I have brought them were not rubbish, and that the knives I supplied cut better than anything they have ever used. I also reminded him of the day I demonstrated the power of my "fire-stick" against the prowlers of the forest. Finally, I assured him that if he placed my tablet of fire magic against his tongue no harm would befall his man child. Thank goodness,' he nodded towards the now industrious herb doctor, 'he has chosen to believe me. I kept those peppermints as my ace, my trump card, and if they had failed to convince him all our efforts would have been wasted.'

  A dozen emotions chased across Tina's face - astonishment, admiration, amusement, and then happy relief. She did not need words to convey her thoughts and when he caught hold of her hand and urged, 'Come, you must begin to take notes,' she obeyed without a murmur and sat down next to the happily sucking doctor.

  The rest of the day was spent watching him beating the ingredients out - placing each on a flat stone and pounding it with a wooden mallet. At intervals, still fasting, he would retire to his hut for a brief rest, then emerge, seemingly refreshed, to begin again. When this part of his work was finished, he scoured the surrounding bush for a particular type of stick to set his fire, then when the flames were curling around them to his satisfaction, he put his pots into place at an exact angle and poured in a measured amount of water, preparatory to adding the powdered ingredients.

  All this work went according to plan, but when, just as he was about to add the powders to the boiling liquid, Tina uttered an involuntary, 'No, not yet,..!' he sprang back from the fire with a shriek of fury and spat on the ground near her feet. More frightened than she had ever been in her life before, she appealed anxiously to the señor,

  'I must first weigh the ingredients before he adds them to the water or my notes will be worthless! Please explain this to him.'

  He nodded, and directed a stream of guttural language in the direction of the incensed herb doctor. Tina watched keenly for a sign of understanding, but felt a hopeless despondency when he gave an angry negative gesture. More words were exchanged and more angry gestures, before the herb doctor sat down again - casting her a look of pure hatred as he did so -and passed his collection of powders across to the señor. Tina looked to him for explanation, and he communicated a sense of urgency when he told her rapidly,

  'He refuses to let you touch his jambi, but has condescended to allow me to do so. Show me what you want me to do, quickly, before he changes his mind and disappears into the jungle!'

  Tina hastily explained how she wished him to use the small measure she had brought and he acknowledged her words with a quick nod and proceeded to carry out her instructions. Meticulously, as he measured, she recorded each weight before it was passed back to the doctor to be added to the pot, and tried not to listen to the venomous hissing which she was certain was directed towards herself as she nervously recorded the notes in her diary. But the hissing ceased when he was offered another peppermint and he then sat silently sucking, watching his simmering pots, and completely ignoring her alien presence.

  It was a nerve-racking vigil, keeping watch in case he should decide to slip into the brew some other vital ingredient he wished to keep hidden from her prying eyes. But determination to see the process completed kept her glued to his side even when the señor set off into the forest to search for food. There was an uncanny stillness in the clearing after he had gone. Fear prickled up her spine and beads of cold sweat formed on her brow as instinct told her that, although he was seemingly oblivious to her presence, an aura of malevolent hatred she was almost physically conscious of was emanating from the still, comatose figure by her side. She would not allow herself to panic. Help was nearby, and it would need only a shout to bring the señor swiftly to her side if the menace she felt certain was threatening should materialize. But as she continued with her vigil she was praying inwardly for his quick return and a release from the deliberate war of nerves the herb doctor was subjecting her to.

  His exercise was so successful that when the señor did return, accompanied by the native messenger, she was so fear-ridden she all but threw herself into his arms.

  'What's wrong?' His sharp eyes slewed from her ashen face to the doctor's inscrutable mask. 'Why are you trembling? Has he frightened you?'

  She shook her head, too overwhelmed to try to explain the fears that had paralysed her, and able only to gasp, 'Please don't leave me alone with him again, please!' She was thankful that he seemed to understand without further explanation that her terror was all of the mind and that she had no basic complaint to lay against the herb doctor.

  He soothed her, 'Try not to distress yourself. I promise I won't leave you with him again.' When she looked up to thank him, she saw his attention was riveted upon the messenger who was gesticulating wildly to the herb doctor. She heard him curse softly under his breath and a sense of foreboding swept her when she saw deep furrows of annoyance score his brow. 'The messenger says the herb doctor's child is growing weaker,' he told her through tight lips. 'His wife has sent the messenger to plead with him to return to the village before it is too late.'

  'Do they think the child might die?' Tina breathed.

  After a quick suspicious look towards the doctor and his companion, he replied thoughtfully, 'I'm not sure whether this appeal to the herb doctor is genuine or whether it is just another trick he has set up in order to wriggle out of his promise. But we will soon know, here he comes.' Her eyes followed his indicating nod and she saw the herb doctor advancing towards them. If his anger was not genuine it was very well assumed, because the veins at his temples were standing out in angry knots and his fathomless, impenetrable eyes were, for once, mirrors of emotion. Immediately he began to address the señor, Tina knew he had made up his mind to leave. He strutted and hissed with unmistakable rage while he informed him of the news he had received, then he turned and spat once more at her feet with such venom she knew he was blaming her for his misfortune.

  The señor's cold voice scythed through the clearing, silencing the herb doctor's gibberish immediately. Tina listened, frustratingly conscious of her inability to understand what was being said, but she viewed the herb doctor's reaction with dawning relief; his attitude was changing from belligerence to sulky uneasiness and when the señor finished by uttering what sounded like a sharp question, he shook his head sheepishly, then walked dejectedly back to his pots.

  'It was just as I thought,' the señor's cold blue glitter was very obvious, 'a put-up job, arranged so that he could wriggle out of his commitments without incurring the anger of my "fire magic". When I offered to go back with him to the village to see what I could do to help his family his flimsy excuses convinced me he was lying. But at least, now that he has taken my measure, we'll have no more of these interruptions. I've threatened that he will travel in the death canoe if he tells me any more lies and I'm certain we will have no more trouble in that direction. He has also promised that the jambi will be ready in the morning, and I believe him. You can relax now, there will be no more tricks, I assure you.'

  And he was right. When, just after dawn the following morning, the herb doctor sullenly plac
ed in her hands a sun-baked gourd filled with a grey paste-like mixture, she carried it to the señor as carefully as if it were the elixir of life and gasped on an awestricken breath,

  'It's finished! I've actually got it!'

  His firm lips lifted in an indulgent smile at the wonder and disbelief on her face and he took hold of her chin to lift her hypnotized eyes away from the grey mass. 'So I see,' he congratulated her gently, 'and my heart rejoices for you, querida. The sacrifices you have made to obtain it deserve to be rewarded.'

  She was conscious of the underlying message in his words, but her heart was too full to recognize it. Perhaps later, when the tremulous excitement that filled her had died down a little, she would pause and wonder about his meaning, but at that moment nothing could oust from her mind the glorious sense of achievement she felt as she held in her two hands the nucleus of the cure that would, in time, rid millions of their suffering. She could hardly wait to get home to Chris. To hand her the gourd just as she had received it from the herb doctor and to say something offhand and inconsequential like: 'Chris darling, I've brought you a present,' the very banality of her words helping to sharpen the impact of surprise when Chris recognized the paste for what it actually was.

  In a dream state, she watched the señor while he dismantled the hammocks and repacked his haversack. Every now and then, he looked around as if the sight of her clasping the gourd to her breast amused him greatly, but this in no way disturbed her wide-eyed wonderment because he was an integral part of it; without him she could have achieved nothing and her full heart ached to put into words the gratitude and love she felt for him.

  The journey back to the village was accomplished in an amazingly short time. Perhaps because she was bubbling over with happiness and her mind was busily engaged with happy thoughts, the return journey seemed much shorter. The villagers gave them such a heartwarming welcome she was surprised to feel a pang of regret at the thought of leaving, but it was only momentary. If she could have suddenly developed wings she would have opted to fly straight back to London, to Chris with her precious gourd.

  During the excitement of their arrival, she omitted to notice the herb doctor slipping quietly away in the direction of the hut that housed his wife and his cherished man child, and it was not until she saw him coming back towards them with his small, ancient-looking face wreathed in smiles that she remembered the baby. But she had no need to ask the señor what the doctor said when he addressed him; his beaming face and lilting words were ample proof that all was well. The señor listened gravely to what he had to say, and smiled when he turned to inform her blandly,

  'The child and his mother are both well. The doctor professes himself to be amazed that my magic is greater than that of his ancestors because, according to what he had been taught, such a thing should be impossible. He now believes fervently in my magic, and says he will obey all my words in future. Also, he likes the flavour of my magic upon his tongue.'

  Tina's heart swelled with pride for him. 'But that's wonderful.' She almost danced in her excitement. 'His beliefs will be spread up and down the jungle trails and wherever you go in future the natives will welcome you! I'm so glad,' she placed her hand on his brown arm, suddenly earnest, 'that in helping me to reach my goal you have unwittingly managed to accomplish a short cut towards your own. In time, every native in the Amazon will know that the name Caramuru represents truth, sincerity, and help to all who need it!'

  His keen eyes raked her face with a glint of awareness when she trembled to a stop. Had she given herself away? Had the emotional stress of the moment relaxed her guard enough to reveal the extent of her love for him? She tried to look away, but could not. Laughing, chattering natives still surrounded them, but they could have been in a world apart as they stood silently appraising each other amid the noisy throng. Her pulses hammered as she waited for him to break the silence. Misgivings flooded her mind and painful colour rushed to her cheeks when she read satisfaction and triumph in his slowly dawning smile. He knew -had guessed - her secret. This was confirmed when the smile reached his eyes and he confidently took her hand and asked,

  'And what about you, querida? What does Caramuru mean to you?'

  His touch sent fire scorching through her veins, but she fought gallantly to preserve her calm. She must not allow herself to be disarmed, not when it meant providing him, and possibly, Doña Inez, with a subject of amusement! All her previous suspicions rushed back in full force, bringing frigid dismay to her voice when she questioned, 'What do I think of you, señor? Does my opinion matter so much?'

  Her sudden coldness chased the small smile from his lips and brought back the wary intentness to his eyes. But he sounded composed, if a little hard, when he admitted, 'I should like to know if you have revised your opinion of me, yes. If you remember,' his words took on a drawl, 'you stated before we set out from Manaus that I would be on trial during this trip. Can you blame me for wanting to know whether I am to be applauded — or condemned?'

  'I can applaud many things about you,' she answered stiffly. 'You are undoubtedly genuine in your desire to help your people and I cannot fault your proficiency in the job you have undertaken. My only complaint,' she betrayed a trace of bitterness, 'concerns your memory!'

  'My memory?' he questioned blankly.

  'Yes,' she continued, determined to obliterate once and for all his casual twisting of her emotions. 'You, like so many others of your race, are a philanderer. I could overlook your casual attempts at flirtation if there was no other person involved, but I think it despicable of you to betray another's trust, however slightly!'

  She was glad, she told herself, that she had thrust in that reminder of Doña Inez. He deserved to be hurt, as hurt as she had been. If the rest of their time together was to be at all bearable he must be kept at arm's length and discouraged from twisting her heart with his casual attentions and soft endearments. She could cope better with the cold stranger who had accompanied her on the outward journey than she could with the deliberate charmer whose solicitude had tormented her during the past few days.

  Obviously, he misunderstood her reference to Dona Inez, but he read the rest of her message clearly. Cold anger was harnessed in his voice, making his words harsh when he halted her. 'You need say no more, Señorita Donnelly,' his eyes blazed blue. 'Twice you have accused me of philandering, and I reject this charge as an insult both to myself and to my fellow countrymen. If you think my attempts to be friendly have constituted a threat to your loyalty to Branston then I must apologize. But,' he held up his hand when she would have interrupted, 'I must stress, in my own defence, that I had no idea your attachment to him was so binding!'

  She stared back at him, momentarily confused, then just in time she bit back a contradiction. If he thought she had been referring to Theo then it would save her pride a little to allow him to carry on thinking it. So, outwardly defiant, she lifted her chin and dared to outstare his furious eyes. It was an effort to sound unfeeling when she concluded by dismissing him peremptorily.

  'Very well, but now that you do understand perhaps we can continue with our journey!'

  9

  THE chief and his men escorted them back to the spot where they had left the canoe. Instead of keeping laboriously to the paths, they took a short cut through the jungle which was to lessen the journey by hours thereby enabling them to reach base camp before nightfall. They made their final farewells to the smiling chief before being helped into the canoe, then the men pushed the boat into the swirling river and stood waving on the bank until it rounded a bend and they disappeared from view.

  Once more they were alone. Tina sat in the stern clasping her precious gourd as if it were a talisman to protect her from the señor's wrath, and stared blindly at his broad back while he propelled the craft along the river at great speed. His paddle dipped into the water with swift incisive strokes that underlined his leashed anger and communicated his desire to reach his destination with the least possible delay so that he m
ight rid himself of the companion he could no longer trust himself to speak to. She tried to console herself by dwelling upon the moment when she would break the news of her discovery to Chris, but even that excitement could not combat the deep unhappiness she had felt since the last bitter scene between them. Since her disdainful words had completely shattered the accord that had been growing between them for the past few days he had not spoken, not even glanced towards her.

  After many tedious hours, the prolonged silence became unbearable; even more unbearable than the unknown menace she had sensed on the outward journey when the now innocent-looking vegetation had represented a threat to her peace of mind. She decided she would have to speak or she would scream. Her lips parted, but just as she was about to make a tentative overture the canoe swept around a bend and there, on the river bank, was the hovercraft. Her heart leapt with relief. The endless monotony of the river scene had left her unprepared for such an unexpected arrival; for all she had known they could have been only half way to the camp, because the anonymous tract had offered no familiar landmarks to prepare her for the suddenness of the journey's end. She was given no time to attempt a reconciliation. An excited shout from the river bank heralded Joseph's appearance and was followed in seconds by the arrival of the rest of the wildly waving crew.

  Amid the noisy, enthusiastic welcome they received as they were helped ashore, Doña Inez's stiff, immobile figure stood out with chilling significance. She made no move to greet them until the señor shouted above the babble of eager questioners, 'One at a time, please! First of all, we want food, and after we've eaten we'll tell you all you want to know!' Grudgingly, the men accepted the logic of this and they dispersed, after much back-slapping and congratulations, to speed up the preparation of the meal that was imminent.

  Only then, when the clearing had emptied of all but the three of them, did Inez move. She ran forward with arms outstretched towards the señor and was enfolded against the hard strength of him in a warm embrace. Tina turned sharply away, certain that the spear of jealousy she experienced was reflected on her face, and was caught in turn by Theo, who appeared from nowhere and seized her in his massive arms with a confidence she was unable to reject while still within sight of the others. But she strove hard to loosen his tight hold upon her waist and, just in time, she managed to evade his hungry lips by turning her face away so that his kiss landed upon her cheek. As she jerked her head sideways, her eyes collided with the señor's. He was standing, with his arms around Inez, watching her reaction to Theo's welcome with an unfathomable keenness that halted her struggles and forced her to eject a warmth she did not feel into her greeting.