The river lord

by Kay Thorpe

  She awoke at first light from a sleep which had held a quality of exhaustion to find the camp apparently still at rest. The Indians were grouped a short distance away, lying where they had fallen in drunken stupor last night, oblivious to the changes in temperature or the faint mist which lay over the ground this close to the river at such an hour.

  Jason and Mark were close by and still fast asleep beneath the rigged nets, blankets rolled about them. It was only as her eyes moved on to scan the spot where Greg had lain that she realised she was not after all the first awake. His blanket was there, thrown back in an untidy heap as if he might have risen in a hurry, but of him there was no immediate sign, although the fire had fairly recently been replenished with fuel.

  This would be a good time to take that dip Mark had spoken of, Keely thought anticipatively, coming upright on the hard ground. If she hurried she could be through before anybody else stirred. There was a small rough towel in each of the three packs. She felt no guilt over securing one of them for her own use, making as little noise as possible and hoping that Greg would not return to camp before she had finished.

  His gun was gone too, she noted. Perhaps he was hunting for some further addition to their scanty larder, though he had deplored the use of modern weapons for such a purpose on more than one occasion. The rifle was there for protection only in the direst emergency, she had gathered. It was a matter for conjecture as to what exactly would constitute an emergency in Greg's eyes.

  The river was running higher but not too fast, the mist rising from its surface like wreaths of smoke in the slowly increasing light. Just above the guardian rocks which began the main stretch of rapids, the bank curved inwards to create a pool of calm water, easily approached from the land by dropping down the shallow tree-shaded incline, yet also hidden from it to all but the closest observer.

  Keely stripped off her things without hesitation and waded in, gasping a little at the unexpected coldness but refusing to let it deter her. There had been a small bar of soap in with the towel. She lathered herself all over, then

  dipped below the surface, feeling the pull of the current against her legs even this far in.

  Once she was accustomed to the difference in temperature the water was deliciously refreshing, almost deep enough to swim in at this point although she had no intention of attempting it, of course. Once within the grip of that current she would be swept over into the rapids. She went out until the water reached up to her armpits and stayed there with the smoothness of rock beneath her feet, savouring the delight of feeling truly clean again as she shook the moisture from her hair in sparkling drops.

  `Charming,' commented Greg dryly from somewhere close by, and she gave a painful start, her head whipping round towards the bank, her eyes wide like a startled fawn. He was sitting beside one of the bushes growing close to the bank in a position which had been hidden from her until she reached this spot. One arm was bent about an updrawn knee, his free hand holding a still smouldering cigarette. Keely stared at him for a full five seconds before finding her voice, taking in the implications of his presence with a rising warmth which more than counteracted the lack of it in the river.

  `How long have you been there?' she demanded, and saw the slow smile sketch his lips.

  `Long enough. I wasn't sure what was coming till I spotted that red head of yours through the branches.' He drew on the cigarette again, his gaze unrelentingly on her. `I was going to finish this, then go in myself. Want to share, or are you coming out first?'

  Realisation of her predicament made it difficult to find words. 'With you just sitting there looking on, I suppose?' she managed at last.

  `You'd rather I played the gentleman and turned my back?' He shook his head, the mockery undisguised. `Where's the difference? I saw you go in.'

  `There is one, though I shouldn't expect you to recognise it!' she came back on a note of contempt which could not quite hide the quiver. 'You've forgotten anything you ever knew about civilised behaviour !'

  `So you keep telling me. And having agreed on that point, why keep looking for any change?' Without haste he came to his feet, dropping the cigarette to the ground and treading it beneath his heel as he began to unbutton his shirt. 'If you're not coming out I'm coming in. We don't have all day. The others will be wakening up soon.'

  Keely watched him strip off the shirt with a sense of helpless fury, capitulating only when he kicked off his boots and reached for the buckle of his belt.

  `Greg ...'

  He paused to look at her, the mockery suddenly edged. `All right,' he said, 'so how do you plan to make it worth my while to let you out of there with your modesty intact?'

  Standing still like this she was beginning to feel the chill-She had to force herself to retain what little command of the situation she still possessed. 'What would you consider worthwhile?'

  `Don't prevaricate. I'm likely to lose patience.' He studied her a moment more, eyes roving her bare shoulders down to the water line, mouth widening as the colour rose faintly under her skin. 'Tantalising.'

  `Greg, I'm cold.' She was trying not to beg. 'If you're going to play games ...'

  `No games.' The smile was still there, but his eyes were hard and unrelenting. 'When we reach that village tomorrow we'll be split up as a party to safeguard them against attack. It's their usual procedure with visiting tribes.' He paused. 'You'll share sleeping accommodation with me, and you'll make it clear to the Colbys that it's of your own free choice. Okay?'

  Keely wished she possessed the kind of nerve it would

  take to wade out of the river here and now regardless of his watching eyes, but knew she didn't. She had a strong suspicion he wouldn't let her escape that easily anyway. The alternative was totally unacceptable too, of course, but at least it wasn't here and now. A lot could happen before tomorrow night. There was always Mark Colby to fall back on as a last resort. Much as he believed in Greg's basic integrity he could scarcely condone the latter's present demands.

  `You win,' she said in subdued tones.

  His laugh was short. 'I might feel more convinced if you'd called me a few names first, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. I'd make it quick before anybody else arrives to complicate things.'

  `You promised to turn away,' she got out through clenched teeth as he continued to stand there.

  `Such trust in the word of a savage?' he jeered, but he moved round until his back was to her, hands thrust into trouser pockets. 'You've got exactly twenty seconds to get to your things and find a hiding place. If you're still anywhere in sight by then I'll fetch you back in.'

  There was no doubting that threat either. Keely waded to the bank with alacrity and seized both clothes and towel. then retired into the bushes bordering the low ridge. There was a splashing sound from the river just audible above the steady background roar of the rapids. So long as that continued she was safe.

  She dried herself and dressed rapidly, feeling the vulnerability fade a little with the donning of her clothing. The clean shirt clung to her damp skin but felt good. Tonight when they stopped she would wash her soiled things through and hope they would dry. At least there should be some opportunity to reorganise her scant wardrobe when they reached this village. She refused to let herself think about the other problems she was due to face there too.

  The rest of the camp was awake though not yet wholly on its feet when she reached it. The Indians were subdued and several looked sullen, whether as the aftermath of their drinking spree the night before or resentment over finding themselves as far from home on waking it was hard to tell. Jason had water boiling for coffee. Keely accepted a mug gratefully, relishing the strong hot liquid.

  `What was the water like?' asked Mark. 'We gathered that was where you'd gone, although it might have been safer to tell somebody first.'

  `I didn't want to wake you.' Keely avoided his eyes. 'And the water is fine providing you don't go out of your depth. Are you going in before we leave?'

  `No dou
bt.' He paused. 'Strange Greg isn't back yet. I supposed he'd gone scouting round.'

  `He's here now,' put in Jason on an odd note, his glance going towards the river. H e's been swimming too, by the looks of it.'

  Keely was aware of Mark's quizzical gaze resting on her averted face as she tipped up her coffee mug. It would have seemed a whole lot more natural if she'd mentioned that she'd seen Greg, she realised, but it was too late now. What was going through Mark's mind she wasn't at all sure, but with Jason there was no such lack of communication. The look he gave her reiterated last night's hurt.

  Greg's hair was wet and he carried no towel. Without bothering to say anything, he seized the one Keely had thrown on top of a pack to dry off and gave it a rub, catching her quick glance with satirical expression.

  `Keep some of that hot water for shaving,' he said to Jason. 'Unless you fancy growing a beard.'

  `Is that what you're doing?' Keely couldn't resist asking. He shrugged, running a hand over his jaw. 'Never could decide which was the least trouble.'

  `One of the crosses you men have to bear.'

  `That's right.' The glint in the grey eyes acknowledged the bite in her voice. 'Maybe I should leave it. Kind of fits the general tone. If you two want a dip, Mark, you'd better get it now. Breakfast in fifteen minutes and then off.' His gaze came back to Keely again. 'Think you can manage to cook a pan of beans?'

  'If you can open the tins.' She was not about to rise to any taunt of his again in a hurry. 'Don't we have anything else?'

  `There's rice, and some packets of dried meat. How about a good hot curry?'

  She shuddered. 'I'll settle for the beans, thanks.'

  The Colbys took themselves off to the river, Jason with reluctance. Emptying the tins of beans into the waiting pan as Greg handed them to her, Keely heard the sudden upsurge in the general clamour of voices coming from the group of Indians and saw Greg straighten abruptly.

  `Just carry on what you're doing,' he said without raising his voice. 'This needs sorting out.'

  He went over to the group and squatted down alongside them on the ground to parley, ignoring the sullen stares directed his way by some of the nine. Keely heated the beans in the pan settled over the fire and listened to the rise and fall of voices, some obviously belligerent despite her inability to understand what they were saying. Greg appeared to be trying to reason with them, and then when that failed, to get angry himself, thudding a fist down on the ground in forceful emphasis of some point he was making; one man surrounded by naked savages with weapons easily to hand, yet he seemed to recognise no danger.

  Keely found her own nerves stretched taut by the strain of waiting for the inevitable to happen; for the whole group to rise in wrath and fall on this outsider who dared to argue with them. Then Greg was getting to his feet and coming back, his face set in lines which boded ill for anybody daring

  to cross him in the next few minutes.

  `Trouble,' he said. 'Five of them want to go back. Short of driving them at gunpoint there's nothing I can do to stop them. That means we lose one of the canoes for a start.'

  She looked at him queryingly, all antipathies forgotten for the moment. 'Can we go on with only two canoes and four men?'

  `Seven men,' he said. 'It might mean two journeys to get all the stuff ported round these next couple of bad stretches, but we can do it at a push.' He studied her hardily. 'You're going to have to pull every ounce of your weight.'

  Her jaw firmed. 'If we decide to go on.'

  `We will.'

  `Meaning you've already decided for everybody else.' She was incensed enough to forget the need for caution. 'Just about typical! Only you might not find Mark quite so eager to risk his neck any further.'

  `You're risking yours right now,' he rejoined on a curt note. 'The mood I'm in I'd get a great deal of satisfaction out of quietening you down !' He paused almost as though he hoped she would take up the challenge, his lip curling when she failed to reply. 'You're learning. Mark, sweetheart, will be only too eager to go on from here. He's not going to get this far and then turn back. Jason might be the fly in the ointment, but only if he's supported by you. And he isn't going to be, is he?'

  She didn't look at him, her eyes on a point somewhere over his left shoulder, her face flushed by defiance. 'If Mark asks me my opinion on the wisdom of continuing this trip I'll have to tell him the truth. I don't want to go on. I—I've had enough.'

  `You've had enough when I say so.' There was no single element of compassion in his voice. 'You wanted in. You got it. Now you're going to stick it out to the bitter end. And this is why.'

  His mouth was ruthless as ever, but irresistible in its claim. Held hard against the broad chest, Keely could no longer rationalise, could only feel. Fighting Greg was hopeless; he knew exactly what he did to her by kissing her like this. Hating him was no defence either. It was even a part of what attracted her to him despite all that had passed between them. Greg Stirling—the man women loved to hate. Was that what it was all about?

  The disjointed thoughts steadied as he let her slip back to the ground again, her mind snapping back to the grim reality of this jungle fastness. It hardly mattered whether she loved Greg or hated him; the situation remained the same. She couldn't bring herself to meet that derisive grey gaze.

  `Convinced?' he asked softly, and she flinched.

  `Do I have a choice?'

  `Sure you have a choice. You can make it difficult or easy on yourself. I mean to have you, green eyes, one way or another.'

  'Regardless of what I want or feel?' Her head was down, her voice muffled.

  `Oh, you want me all right.' He was grimly amused. `Think I can't recognise response in a woman?'

  `I'm sure you've had enough practice.' Her head had lifted now, her spirit reacting to the sting on a surge. of anger. 'Perhaps if you'd ever experienced an atom of genuine emotion you'd know what I'm talking about ! The way you see things makes you no better than an animal !'

  It was only the Colbys' return which saved her then, she was sure of it. The glitter in his eyes was frightening. `You're going to have a lot to settle for when we reach that village,' he said without raising his voice. 'Dish up those beans and let's get out of here.'

  The five dissenting Indians remained adamant in their desire to return down river despite a further attempt on

  Greg's part to dissuade them. They took one canoe and enough food to see them through the day, pushing out into the main current of the river and turning bows on to the pull of the rapids. From the bank it was possible to watch their progress for several hundred yards before a bend swept them from view; to see the flash of paddles lifting and dipping from side to side of the craft as it raced through the rushing torrent. At times the bows seemed almost to disappear beneath the water, but they were still afloat and apparently coping quite adequately when they passed from sight.

  The rest of the party divided themselves equally between the two remaining canoes and headed up river without further delay. This time, however, Keely was in with Mark, to her infinite relief. Sometime in the next thirty-six hours she had to find some way of securing his aid against Greg's threatened appropriation of her, and she wasn't at all sure how she was going to broach the subject. How did one go about such a task? Would he even believe her?

  Come to that, did she really believe it herself? Greg was both ruthless and unethical, but there had to be a limit. What he wanted was her capitulation; an acknowledgement of her own basic needs. Given that there was every chance he would leave her alone. In his eyes it would probably constitute the greatest punishment of all to rouse her awareness of him, then leave her flat. Deep down, Keely had a sneaking suspicion he might very well be right.

  CHAPTER NINE

  IT was late afternoon of the following day before they reached their destination after a journey which for Keely at least had held a quality of nightmare. Making their way round the stretches of rapids themselves had been bad enough, but the storm which had hit them
towards morning had all but finished them. Try as she might, Keely could not forget the terror of that sheet lightning, the sheer thundering force of the rain. The river had risen swiftly, swirling in over the banks and forcing them to retreat to where the trees grew more thickly in order to find perches out of its way. There had been no let-up until almost seven, and always the fear that the canoes would be swept away from their moorings by the racing waters.

  Everything, of course, had been soaked. A lot of the stuff still wet was due to their inability to spread out blankets and clothing to dry. The clothes they had on had dried on them fairly soon in the heat of the sun, and looked little the worse, considering. The Indians had cut poles and used them to lever the canoes up river, sometimes casting lines about conveniently overhanging branches and pulling the craft bodily along where the current made headway of any kind difficult.

  Once the canoe Keely was sharing with Greg had lost forward impetus altogether and been carried back down river several hundred yards before the Indian in the bows had managed to sling a liana rope about a branch an un-

  nerving experience which made the thought of their eventual return even less attractive. Not that there was any other way, short of waiting for the flood waters to subside.

  Another storm like that last and they might not make it back at all.

  The mountains were close enough to rise above the sea of forest, their upper reaches hazed and nebulous against the evening-streaked sky. The village they had come so far to find lay within sight of the river, its foremost buildings lifted on platforms above the encroaching waters as if in exact calculation of its likely advance, enabling canoes to approach to the very foot of the fibre ladders hanging down from the walks if so desired.

  There were guards posted along these walks—or so Keely took them to be. Most of them were armed with blowpipes, but there was little evidence of hostility in the excited shouts which greeted the appearance of the two canoes. That Greg had been recognised was at once made clear by the way they pointed at him and gesticulated. He called what sounded like a greeting to the nearest man, directing their own Indians to guide the canoe in beyond the fringe of floating buildings to where the land began again close to the village proper.