Mark of the Lion (41 page)

“Good. You shall be a warrior as your name implies, then.” Pili opened his mouth to speak, but Jade had already taken a fresh torch and started to explore the interior of the lava cave.

“Where are you going?” whimpered Beverly. “We’re supposed to stay together and you have my rifle.”

“We’re supposed to stay in the cave behind the fire, and I am.” She continued to inch her way back into the dark recesses. “If this ring’s etchings really do mean something, I want to find out what it is.”

“Well, wait for us,” ordered Bev. “We’re not letting you out of our sight.”

Jade smiled reassuringly at her friend. She had no illusions that Beverly was being overprotective. The woman was plainly fighting back terror, but Jade had never seen Bev so afraid before. “Bev, remember what the commandant would tell us?”

Beverly thought a moment. “No heroics. We don’t need anyone awarded the order of the wooden cross.”

“That’s right, and I don’t plan on doing anything foolish now.” Jade waited a moment for them to each fetch a burning branch and then moved with cautious steps to the rear, easing into each step in case a thin shell of lava broke through beneath her. About seventy yards later she found her answer. A narrow side trail sloped down to her right.

“I think I found where your little ghost’s tears run, Bev.”

Beverly and Madeline clustered close by and peered into the gloom. “My word,” whispered Beverly. “Another tunnel. Do you think it’s safe?”

“I intend to find out. But stay back, all of you. Please,” she added as an afterthought. “I know you think you’re giving me more light, but you also risk pushing me down a hole.” Her friends drew back. “Pili, guard the rear.” She handed him Bev’s Enfield.

“No one will harm your friends from behind,” said the young man.

They inched onward and slid their feet to ensure a solid footing. Jade tested each step to see if the ground would hold her weight before putting full pressure on it. Lava tubes often had thin floors if another tube ran beneath. So far, this one seemed solid enough. She called back to the others, “I’ve been told to go to Hades often enough. Looks like I found the way.”

The tube descended gradually until it seemed that they’d been going down for a very long time. The air was moist, but not musty, and much cooler. That meant they’d moved far enough underground that the surrounding rock quit absorbing the daytime heat. Jade’s torch flared in spurts as the fire ignited pockets of resin. The heady aroma of spices flooded the cave.

“Jade,” called Madeline. Her voice quavered. “Perhaps we shouldn’t go much farther?”

Jade was about to agree when something off the far wall sparkled back at her. She crept forward to investigate. Rows of twinkling star shines winked at her. Whatever it was, it ran in a vein along the wall. She brought the torch closer for a better look. The reflection came back in brilliant greens, just like … “My ring! These are the stones in my ring.” Her voice reverberated in the tunnel. Jade quickly spun around as she recalled the hollow echoes of maniacal laughter from the night before. Had someone been in this tunnel? If so, was there another way in? She didn’t get an opportunity to investigate as the others crowded closer for a better look.

“You’re right,” exclaimed Beverly. “This is what Gil Worthy intended his sons to find. Roger will be so excited.” She gasped and put her hand to her mouth as she suddenly remembered Roger was missing.

Jade grimaced. Was David’s brother dead by now? Had she brought destruction on Roger as she had on David? She suppressed a rising sense of anguish. “We’d better head up. Harry and Avery could be back soon, and hopefully, they’ll have Roger with them.” Besides, her knee had started its dull, aching throb and the last thing she wanted was to be stuck down here. She had turned to go when her torchlight reflected off a duller metal surface. “My Winchester!” she exclaimed. “But how the blazes did it get down here?”

They returned to the surface more quickly than they had descended and found a thick layer of towering white clouds overhead. The wind moaned mournfully past the cave entrance, bringing the scent of rain. Echoes of the sorrowful wail rippled up through the walls as the wind found its way into the lava tubes. Gray sheets already hung over a distant part of the grasslands as the sky drenched the ground.
That explains my knee. This time it really is rain and not some threat making it hurt.

“Rain,” Madeline said in echo of Jade’s thoughts. “The long rains are over, but a few storms still creep into June.”

They hurried to move the dry wood into the cave and started a new but smaller fire just inside the mouth. They finished just as the sky deepened to a dark, leaden gray.

“Hulloo,” called Avery from below. Water streamed from his clothes, and his voice betrayed his fatigue. Apparently, the rain had already found them.

“Avery,” answered Beverly from the entrance. “Any luck?”

He shook his head, and drops of water flew from his soggy hat brim. “None that’s good. We found his hat and shirt, or rather, what was left of them.”

Madeline moaned and sank to her knees on the floor. “Poor Roger.” A large tear rolled down her cheek.

“Where’s Harry?” asked Jade.

Avery jerked his head to the side to indicate that Harry was coming. Just then, the sky flashed brilliantly, backlighting the scattered trees. Then as the lightning faded, the clouds ripped open and disgorged their rains on the two soggy men. Jade heard Harry mutter a curse and watched him climb up the wet rocks to the cave. He held a sopping hat in his left hand.
Roger’s hat. David’s brother’s hat. David’s dead brother’s hat.

“Forgive me, David,” she murmured. “I failed you.” Now she had not only Gil’s death to avenge, but also Roger’s. When would this penance for David’s death end?

Avery had entered the protective shelter of the lava tube and the warmth of both the fire and his wife’s smile when Harry shouted. They turned in time to see him jump backwards, slip on a loose, wet rock, and tumble down the hill.

“Harry!” they all called in unison; all except Pili. He leaped from the cave, his knife in hand, and raced towards the rocks. For a moment, Jade thought the young man had lost his mind and intended to kill Harry. Bolts of lightning shot up from the ground and split the sky. In their brilliant but unstable flashes, Pili appeared to move with the discontinuous motion of a hand-cranked nickelodeon film. First he was on one rock; then he was on the next. One of the rocks appeared to crawl on its own, shape-shifting in the storm. Then Jade saw the flash of Pili’s knife as it drove home and severed the head of a hideous snake, a cobra. She dropped her rifle, snatched up her hat from beside her bedroll, and raced out to help the fallen man.

“It’s broken,” groaned Harry between gritted teeth. “My leg is broken.”

“Don’t move,” Jade commanded and held up three fingers. “How many fingers?”

“Three. I didn’t hit my head,” he said.

Jade ran her hands along his body, probing for injuries. The rain pummeled her mercilessly with thousands of tiny fists. She felt each painful drop stab her back with icy ferocity. Water streamed off her hat brim and down her already soaked back. Harry shivered from the cold deluge, and Jade yelled to the others to help her get him inside.

“Get a bedroll to carry him on,” she shouted. Avery had anticipated the need and was already on his way down with one. “We’re going to roll you over on your side, Harry. You ready?”

He nodded, and Jade rolled him onto his good leg. Harry screamed in pain as the other leg tried to follow. Avery and Beverly shoved the bedroll under his back and then rolled him back onto it.

“Madeline, support his head,” Jade ordered. “The rest of you, get a corner and part of the middle. Ready? On three. One, two, three.”

They hoisted the tall, heavily muscled man in the air and proceeded cautiously along the slick and dangerous path to the cave. Madeline walked backwards so they could advance with Harry’s head first and keep it elevated. Jade’s muscles burned under the strain, and she shivered as the heavy, cold raindrops slammed into her skin. Water ran down her pant legs in a steady stream and dribbled into her boots. Her soaked knee throbbed in pain, but thankfully it never weakened. After a few minutes, which felt like hours, they had Harry inside the cave and near the fire, just in time for the deluge to end. Beverly and Madeline worked to remove his wet shirt and cover him with the remaining dry bedrolls, while Jade sliced open his pant leg with Pili’s knife.

“Bev,” Jade said, “do you still recall how to set a fracture?”

“Of course.” Bev’s voice had lost all its timidity of the tunnel exploration and resumed its old, self-assured quality now that she had a job to do.

“I know, as well,” echoed Madeline with less assurance in her voice. “We need something straight for a splint, don’t we?”

“One of the planks from the Dodge,” suggested Avery. He left to remove one from the useless car below.

“Good,” said Jade. “We need to get him back and to a doctor. You two take care of the leg when Avery gets back. He can help hold Harry down while you reset it. Pili, you come with me and help strip down the Ford. We’ll have to leave things behind to make room.”

“You saved his life, Pili,” said Beverly. “You were splendid killing that wretched snake. You really lived up to your warrior name.”

Pili shook his head. “Mistress Dunbury, I tried to tell Mistress Jade before she went back in the cave. My name does not mean warrior.”

Jade looked up in surprise. “No? But Mr. Forster said—”

“My mother was French Somali. She spoke French, but she kept house for a Boer and lived away from Somaliland for so long, she also spoke Swahili and gave me a Swahili name. It means second son.”

Second son. Abel, my second son.
“Son of a biscuit,” muttered Jade. “Son of a biscuit! Now I understand. Where’s Roger’s gear?” She ran to his bag, which she’d hauled up with the other supplies, and rifled through it. Her searching hands found the packet.

“What’s going on, Jade?” Beverly asked.

Jade ignored her question and read Gil Worthy’s letter. “Pili,” she called, “where did you get your cross? Let me see it.”

“It was my mother’s. The fathers gave it to me when I came of age.” He handed it to her.

“The fathers at the French mission? They raised you?” Jade asked. Pili nodded. “The woman’s grave at the French mission,” she murmured to herself as she turned the cross over. On the back was an engraving: “To be truly worthy.” That was the motto above Gil’s portrait.

Jade glared down at Harry. “You knew it, too, didn’t you, you dirty, double-crossing son of a hyena. You knew Roger wasn’t Gil’s son at all.” She raised her hand to slap him, and Beverly rushed to restrain her. She shook her off. “He’s not worth the effort.”

Harry didn’t deny her accusation. “I swear I never meant to hurt you, Jade. But I didn’t know about Pili. That’s the truth. I just wanted to help Rog. I figured you’d never find the actual son, so why not let the inheritance help someone else?”

“How did he get Gil’s cuff links? Did you kill Gil, too?” demanded Jade. “That’s why Pili needed to die. The cuff links weren’t the proof. The gold cross was the proof—it’s in the letter.”

“What cuff links?” protested Harry. “I only told Rog the names on that envelope and map of yours. I found them in your suitcase.”

“I don’t understand,” said Beverly. Avery had returned with the board and looked from one to another for some explanation.

Jade handed Gil’s letter to Beverly. “Read this. It will explain it. You stay here and guard them, Avery. Pili, you come with me.” Jade grabbed her Winchester. She checked the magazine, worked the lever to insert a round into the chamber, and slung the gun around her shoulders before heading back down the long slope to the cars.

Pili and Jade retrieved the necessary cans of petrol from the Dodge and began removing the extra boxes of foodstuffs and blankets from the Ford. Jade threw herself into the task with a vengeance, letting the work release some of her rage. If they hacked out the wooden bench, there should be room for Harry and the others to crowd onto the wooden floorboard in back. She would drive and let Avery ride shotgun.

She found a crowbar and handed a hammer to Pili, and together they began to rip up the bench from the wooden floorboard. They worked silently. All the while her stomach and mind alike churned over the latest revelation and the resulting questions. Had Harry actually killed Roger? Finding a hat and torn shirt was certainly a convenient explanation for his disappearance, especially when the cloudburst washed away any trace of blood. If Harry had killed him, then it would explain why he had had to kill Ruta, too. He was a witness. And Ruta had never called out, which suggested he was surprised by someone he knew, someone he trusted. Yet how, she wondered, could a man, no matter how strong, tear out another man’s throat? Were the witch stories really true? Could a man actually do more than train and control wild animals? Could he become one himself? Memba Sasa, the old witch, was dead. She was pretty sure of that now. But Harry knew the Maasai and their ways. Just how
well
did he know them?

Then Jade heard a sound that made her blood run cold and her legs turn to jelly, the unmistakable cackle of demented laughter. With it came the dawning realization that the rainstorm had washed away the last of the protective ointment from her hat. Her hands trembled violently and the crowbar clattered to the ground.

Louder and louder rang the undulating call. She clasped her hands over her ears and shut her eyes. In her mind she couldn’t drive fast enough. The laughter still followed her. She couldn’t escape the psychotic cries. Now they hit the back wall of the ambulance with their heads. She could feel the reverberation echo down the driver’s seat, down her back.
They’re on my back. My God in heaven, where’s the damned hospital? Did I lose it in the moonless night? This is hell, and I’ll drive the damned forever.