Authors: Sara Craven
Colombian Romeo. I suppose this—
Rodriguez may insist we go on with the
ransom demand.'
'But we can't,' she protested. 'I told you
Grandfather has been very ill. To get
such a demand would be the death of
him.'
'And I suppose to have the pair of us
simply vanish off the face of the earth
will do him all the good in the world,' he
snapped. Then a look of contrition came
over his face. 'Oh, love, I'm sorry. I don't
know what I'm saying half the time. This
past two weeks, all I've had to do is lie
here on this damned bed and be
frightened out of my wits. I'm not
thinking straight any more.'
'I know,' she said gently. 'Mark, was it
the Flame of Diablo you came to find ?'
He flushed. 'Yes, if you must know.
There are so many stories about it, I
thought it couldn't possibly be all myth.'
His voice hushed. 'Can you imagine,
Rachel, a fortune contained in one green
stone you could carry in the palm of your
hand?'
'Yes, I can quite imagine. Oh, God, I
wish Miguel Arviles had kept his mouth
shut! Mark, can't you see—if it ever
existed at all, it will have been found
years ago. It's probably part of—a
hundred engagement rings by now.
Besides, isn't it also part of the story that
the Flame of Diablo has a curse on it?'
'Oh, that,' he shrugged. 'That's just
superstition.'
'Is it?' she asked drily. 'Are things going
so wonderfully well in your life just at
the moment?'
'Don't be daft,' he muttered defensively.
'I didn't catch a glimpse of any emeralds,
large Or small.'
'No, but you went looking, and perhaps
for the old gods, that's enough,' she said
quietly.
He looked beyond her to the door. 'I see
they've got their fire started,' he
commented, clearly glad to change the
subject.
Rachel swung round and looked at the
flickering light which illumined the
grating. The door swung open and
Rodriguez looked in.
It is time,
chiquita
,' he observed almost
jovially. He stood back and two of his
men came in. One of them unlocked the
padlock and removed the chain from
Mark's leg, and the other pulled him to
his feet. He could hardly stand and he
cried out in pain as they tried to march
him to the door.
Rachel swung round to Rodriguez, a
protest quivering on her lips. But she did
not utter it. As their eyes met, she
seemed to see him properly for the first
time—a soulless predator who was
quite indifferent to the suffering of
others, and she had no wish to amuse
him by embarking on useless pleas for
mercy. Her head high, she followed
Mark out into the courtyard.
The bonfire they had lit illumined every
corner. Even the big gate had been
dragged off what remained of its hinges
and piled on top. As she looked round,
Rachel realised that Rodriguez' gang
only consisted of half a dozen men, but
they were all armed. Carlos was there,
skulking in a corner, and she guessed he
was not officially part of the gang.
Perhaps an informer that they used from
time to time, she thought with contempt,
remembering
the
eager
voice
volunteering the fatal news.
Rodriguez took up his stance in the
middle of the courtyard.
'Vitas!'
he
bellowed.
'Vitas
de
Mendoza!' His voice seemed to echo and
re-echo in the stillness of the night. 'We
have your pretty one,
amigo.
If you wish
to see her once again as she was the last
time you held her in your arms, then
come down to us now.'
Only the silence answered him, a long
and terrible blank. Rachel's hands
twisted together until the knuckles
whitened. A soundless prayer repeated
over and over again in her mind. Don't
let him come. Please don't let him come.
'Vitas!' Rodriguez shouted again, and she
could see in the firelight the muscle
jumping in his face which meant he was
angry. 'This is your last chance, and the
last chance of your
enamorador.
I count
to ten, and then I give her to my men to
play with.'
'Don't shout, Rodriguez.' He was
suddenly standing just outside the circle
of firelight, his hat tipped over his face.
'I may be half blind, thanks to your good
offices, but I am by no means deaf.'
Rachel whispered imploringly, 'Vitas—
no!' But perhaps she only uttered the
words in her heart, because he did not
even give her a glance as he stepped
forward.
'So we meet again,
amigo
.' Rodriguez'
chest rose and fell as he studied the tall
lean figure standing composedly before
him.
'A meeting I have long desired,' Vitas
said courteously.
Rodriguez began to shake with laughter.
'But not quite in these circumstances, eh?
You had other ideas. Other notions.' He
spat contemptuously. 'You are not the
first, and you will not be the last.'
Vitas spoke softly. 'So—you have me.
And that is what you wanted. But the
woman—and the man—you don't want
them, Rodriguez. You don't need them.'
Rodriguez' smile widened. 'No,
amigo
?
Perhaps it is true. Perhaps I will let them
go—but only to the highest bidder, you
understand.' He sniggered. 'Carlos
Arnaldez has a fancy for the girl. Can
you offer a higher price?'
Vitas said evenly, 'Perhaps. What do you
want?'
Rodriguez pretended to consider. His
glee was horrible, Rachel thought with a
weird detachment.
'What can I ask from the young lord of
the Llanos?' he pondered. 'His private
plane to fly me wherever I wish to go?
One of his vast herds of cattle? Ten
million
pesos?
Vitas stood waiting, his hands resting
lightly on his narrow hips.
'But no,' Rodriguez slapped his thigh as
if a thought had suddenly come to him.
'I'll ask for something I asked another
member of your family for a long time
ago. Perhaps you will be more
amenable.' His eyes were suddenly
fierce. 'Give me the map,' he said. 'The
map which shows where the Flame of
Diablo can be found.'
Beside her, Rachel heard Mark gasp
loudly in excitement. Her face burned as
Vitas turned slowly to look at them. His
gaze was cynical and contemptuous as it
travelled over her, then, as it reached the
fair-haired boy at her side, she saw him
stiffen slightly. He had just assimilated
the twin facts that Mark was not only
younger than she was, but also a blood
relation, she thought guiltily.
Vitas turned back to Rodriguez. 'There is
no map,' he said, flatly. 'The secret of the
Diablo mine has been passed down from
father to son for generations in my family
without a line being drawn or a word
being written. That has been its
safeguard.'
'Safeguard!' Rodriguez sneered. 'What
safeguard was there from your grasping
ancestors?'
Vitas said laconically, 'No one from my
family has ever benefited from the
Diablo mine. We recognised early in our
history that the mine was a sacred place
to the old gods. Only my great-
grandfather did not want to believe that
and he gave the money for the foundation
of this mission'—his lips twisted—'to
Christianise the valley, and drive the old
gods out.' He shrugged. 'You see for
yourself what success he met with.'
'Stories to frighten children,' Rodriguez
muttered. 'But I am not frightened, and
tomorrow you will show me where the
Diablo mine is to be found. That is the
price I ask in order to let the
Inglesa
go.'
'Both the girl—and her brother.' Only
Rachel caught the slight stress which
Vitas placed on the last word.
Rodriguez waved his hands impatiently.
'Both—both. But
' his fleshy lips
stretched in a fixed smile, 'you
amigo,
I
shall not let go. I should have killed you
years ago, but instead I decided to be
merciful. It is always a mistake, and you
have caused me many problems.' His
voice thickened. 'But after tomorrow,
you will be no problem at all.'
Vitas' whole attention seemed to be
concentrated on lighting one of his
cigars. 'As you say,' he observed non-
committally
when
the
task
was
completed to his satisfaction.
'Take him away.' Rodriguez gestured,
and two of his men stepped forward. 'Put
him in the room at the end. And no peed
to tie him up,' he added, grinning. 'If he
runs away in the night, he knows well
what will happen to his woman in the
morning.'
Rachel watched them take him. He did
not even spare Mark or herself a glance
as he went by. She swallowed. She had
tricked him and disastrously disobeyed
him in the space of twenty-four hours,
and yet to save her, he was giving up a
cherished family secret, and ultimately,
unless a miracle occurred, his own life.
'And tuck our two little pigeons up for
the night,' Rodriguez directed. 'Put the
girl in the cell next to her brother. They
can knock on the wall to each other,' he
added with a chuckle.
She walked past the man who tried to
take her arm and approached Rodriguez.
She said, 'I want to ask you a favour.'
'Ask on,
chiquita.''
His tone was bland,
but there was suspicion in the hard dark
eyes.
'You said that being merciful was a
mistake,' she said steadily. 'Well, I want
you to make one more mistake. Please
don't shut me up in a cell on my own. Let
me spend this last night with Senor de
Mendoza.'
For a moment he stared at her
incredulously, and then he began to
laugh. 1 like you,
Inglesa,'
he choked. 'A
night for the lord of the Llanos to
remember, eh, before all memories
cease for him. Go to him,
chica,
and tell
him he has Rodriguez to thank for this.'
The leer of the guard followed her into
the room. The door swung to behind her,
and she heard the thud as the heavy bar
which secured it dropped into place.
Then there was silence.
CHAPTER NINE
The room was not completely dark. A
small lamp, consisting of a dish of some
kind of grease with a cotton wick
floating in it, stood on a chair near the
narrow bed.
Vitas was stretched full-length on the
bed, his hands linked at the back of his
neck. Rachel stood and looked at him,
remembering with a pang how short a
time it was since she had entered that
hotel room in Asuncion and found him
lying on her bed waiting for her. Then,
she had been able to fight the physical
attraction she felt for him with fear and
mistrust, and since that time she had
forged herself other weapons to use
against him. But tonight she was
defenceless.
Slowly he turned his head arid looked at
her.
'What do you want?' he asked flatly.
She moistened her lips with the tip of
her tongue. She hadn't expected him to
leap up and seize her in his arms after
all that had happened, but she had
expected more encouragement than that.
'I've come to—be with you. Rodriguez
said I must tell you that you have him to
thank.'
'Rodriguez can go to the hell that is
surely waiting for him,' he said savagely.
'And you may go with him. And take
your pity with you.'
'I'm not here out of pity,' she protested.
'Your
gratitude,
then.
You
are
transparent, Raquel, do you know that?
You imagine I am about to gallantly
make the supreme sacrifice for you so