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Authors: Wilbur Smith

Tags: #Thriller, #Adventure

The Monsoon (92 page)

BOOK: The Monsoon
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“By God! This passes all belief!”

“What is it?” Caroline laid down the silver spoon in her hand. It must be momentous news indeed to have that effect on her husband: Guy prided himself on his cool composure in even the most trying circumstances.

He was staring at the letter, and slowly his expression changed from consternation to jubilation.

“I have him now!”

“Who? What has happened?”

“Tom! He is a murderer. By God! Now he will pay the price on the gallows. He has murdered our dear brother, William, and there is a warrant out for his arrest. I intend to do my duty, and it will give me the greatest pleasure to cut him down to size-” Guy leaped to his feet, knocking the teapot off its stand. It shattered on the tiles, but he scarcely glanced at it.

“Where are you going, Guy?” Caroline stood up, her face white with shock, swaying on her feet.

“To the Sultan.” he said, and shouted to the servants, “Tell Assam to saddle the grey, and to hurry.” He turned back to Caroline, and punched his fist into the palm of his other hand.

“At last! I have waited for this for so long. I will ask the Sultan for men from his guard. After the trouble Tom has caused him, he won’t quibble. We will arrest Master Thomas and seize the Swallow. When we sell the ship, she should bring in two thousand pounds at the very least. I deserve a reward for bringing a dangerous criminal to justice.” He laughed triumphantly.

“Master Tom will have a free berth on the Apostle back to London, in chains.”

“Guy, he is your brother! You cannot do this to himP Caroline was distraught.

“Billy was Tom’s brother also, yet the swine ran him through in cold blood. Now he will pay a high price for all his arrogance.” She ran to him and clutched at his sleeve.

“No, Guy, you cannot do this!”

“So!” He rounded on her, his face darkening and seeming to swell with rage.

“You plead for him. You still love him, don’t you? In a minute, you would pull up your skirts and open your legs for him like the dirty little slut you are.”

“That’s not true.”

“You would love him to plant another bastard in your belly.” He struck her across the face, sending her reeling back against the low wall of the veranda.

“Well, your lover is going to make no more bastards.” He strode away down the terrace, bellowing for his horse.

Caroline leaned heavily against the wall, clutching the angry red we alt on her cheek, until she heard his horse gallop away through the gates and down the track towards the harbour and the fort. Then she dragged herself to her feet.

When Guy had first told her of the liaison between Tom and her young sister, she had been horrified and torn with jealousy. Then last night she had gone to Sarah’s room and spent nearly two hours with her.

Slowly she had come to realize how deeply her sister was in love.

She had long been aware that her own feelings for Tom were hopeless, so she had thrust them aside, and though the pain of the sacrifice was intense, she had kissed Sarah and promised to help her and Tom to elope.

“I have to warn them,” she whispered aloud, “but there is so little time.” She picked up a tray from the sideboard, loaded it with a plate of food for Sarah, and carried it down the veranda, past the nursery where Christopher was sleeping, to the last door. One of Guy’s watchmen was squatting there, half asleep in the drowsy afternoon heat, with his musket across his lap. He started awake as she came towards him, then scrambled to his feet.

“Salaam aliekum, Donna.” He bowed.

“The master has given strict orders that no one should pass this door, coming or going.”

“I have food for the lady, my sister,” she said imp enously.

“Stand aside.”

He hesitated; his orders had not covered this eventuality. Then he bowed again.

“I am as dust under your feet,” he said, drew the big iron key from the folds of his robe and turned it in the lock.

Caroline swept past him, but as the door closed she dropped the tray on the first table and ran through to Sarah’s bedchamber.

“Sarah, where are you?” Her sister lay on the bed under the tent ike mosquito net. A light sheet covered her, and she seemed to be sleeping, but as soon as she heard Caroline’s voice she threw it back and sprang from the bed, fully clothed and wearing riding boots under her long skirts.

“Caroline! I am so glad you have come. I did not want to leave without saying goodbye to you.” Caroline stared at her, and Sarah ran to her and embraced her.

“I am leaving with Tom. He is waiting for me on the beach below the old monastery, but I am late already.”

“How will you escape past Guy’s guardsP Caroline asked.

Sarah reached under her skirts and drew out the duelling pistols.

“I will shoot anyone who tries to stop me.”

“Listen to me, Sarah.

A letter has come from Father in Bombay. Tom is accused of the murder of his elder brother, and there is a warrant issued for his arrest.”

“I know that. Tom told me.” She pulled away.

“You cannot stop me, Caroline. It makes no difference, I know he is innocent and I am going away with him.”

“You don’t understand.” Caroline seized her arm again.

“I have already promised that I will help you and Tom. I am not going back on my word. I came to tell you that Guy has ridden to the fort to inform the Sultan. They are going to arrest Tom, and send him back to England in chains, to his trial and execution.”

“No!” Sarah stared at her sister.

“You have to warn him, but you will not escape unless I help you.”

She thought quickly.

“This is what we will do.” She spoke rapidly, filling out the plan as she went along.

“Do you understand?” she asked, when she had finished.

Sarah nodded.

“I am ready. I have made all my preparations, but hurry, Caroline. Tom will believe I am not coming. He will tire of waiting, and leave.” Caroline went to the door, and called to the guard to open up. When she left, he locked the door behind her.

Caroline went directly to the stables and shouted for Assam.

“Saddle my mare.” When the groom hesitated, she sTomped her foot.

“At once! Or I will have you beaten,” she snapped.

“I am in haste.

I have promised to meet the master at the fort.” Within minutes Assam brought out the horse and Caroline took the reins from him.

“Go to the gates and tell the guards to open up. I am coming out.” Thoroughly intimidated by now, Assam ran to obey.

Trying not to hurry, or show her agitation, Caroline led the saddled mare across the lawns to the end of the veranda. The guard at Sarah’s door stood to greet her, and she proffered the letter from her father.

“Give this to my sister immediately,” she ordered. He slung the musket over his shoulder and took the letter from her. He went to the door and knocked upon it.

After a moment Sarah called from within, “What is it!”

“A letter, Donna.”

“Give it to me.” He unlocked the door, and swung it open.

Sarah itepped out, and thrust the pair of pistols into his startled face. The hammers were cocked and her fingers were curled around the triggers.

“Lie down on your face,” she ordered, but instead of obeying the guard snatched the musket from his shoulder and tried to cock the hammer. Calmly Sarah lowered the aim of the pistol in her right hand and, at point-blank range, shot him in the knee. He squealed and collapsed on the tiles of the veranda, the shattered leg twisted under him. Sarah kicked away the fallen musket.

“Fool, you should have done as I ordered,” she told him harshly.

“The next ball will be in your head.” She touched the muzzle of the other pistol to his forehead.

He covered his face and cowered at her feet, and Sarah thrust the fired pistol into her belt, then stepped back into the doorway. She picked up the leather bag into which she had packed her most treasured possessions and dragged it out onto the veranda.

In the meantime Caroline had run forward to help her hoist the bag onto the saddle. Then the two sisters embraced swiftly but passionately.

“Go with God, my darling Sarah. I wish you and Tom all joy of each other.”

“I know that you love him also, Caroline.”

“Yes, but he is yours now. Treat him kindly.”

“Kiss Christopher for me.”

“We will both miss you, but go now! Hurry!” Caroline made a step for her with her linked hands and boosted Sarah up into the saddle.

“Goodbye, my sister,” she called as Sarah urged the mare into a gallop and sped away across the lawns.

Assam saw her coming, and shouted to the other guards to close the gates, but Sarah rode straight at him and he had to throw himself aside to avoid being knocked down by the driving hoofs. The mare flew through the open gates and out into the forest. Sarah turned her onto the path that led southwards, through the palm groves to the ruined monastery.

“Please wait, Tom,” she whispered, and the wind flung away the words, and sent her long hair streaming out behind her like a flag.

“Please wait for me, my darling, I am coming.” She pushed the mare to the top of her speed and the holes of the palm trees streamed past her in a blur.

At the gates of the monastery she pulled the mare down from full gallop to a plunging halt. The animal fidgeted and threw her head, sweating nervously, unaccustomed to such rough treatment.

“Tom!” Sarah screamed, and the echoes from the ancient walls mocked her.

“Tom!” He has gone, she thought. While the mare backed and circled under her, she leaned out of the saddle and searched the soft ground. She picked out Tom’s fresh footprints coming up from the beach, and the trampled area in front of the gateway where he had paced back and forth, waiting for her. Then, his patience clearly exhausted, the string of his footprints headed back towards the beach.

4Tom!” she shouted in despair, and put the mare at the narrow track through the undergrowth. The branches whipped against her legs as they raced down beside the stream and at last burst out onto the white coral sands, with the limpid water of the lagoon in front of her.

She saw the mark that the keel of the felucca had left at the water’s edge, and then she looked up and saw the tiny craft. It was moving slowly towards the gap in the reef, half a mile away. Tom was in the stern with the long bamboo pole in his hands, punting her over the shallow flats.

“Tom!” she screamed and waved.

“Tom!” But the wind fretted in the palms and the surf boomed and boiled on the outer reef, smothering her cries. The tiny felucca moved away doggedly, and Tom did not loot back.

She urged the mare into the water, and though at first she baulked, she was a game little horse and she plunged forward, leaping and lunging through the deeper holes, until the water reached halfway up her shoulders, and Sarah’s boots and skirts were soaked. But the felucca was moving faster, drawing away from them.

“Tom? Sarah called in agony. Then she pulled the second pistol from her belt, pointed it at the sky and fired.

The report was an insignificant pop in the immensity of sea and wind.

“He has not heard!” It took a long second for the sound to carry, then she saw Tom’s distant figure start, and he looked back at her.

“Oh, praise God!” She almost wept with relief.

With an expert thrust of the pole Tom spun the felucca about, and sent it gliding back across the lagoon.

“Where were you? What has happened?” he shouted across as he came within hail.

“Guy has found out about you and William,” she called back.

“He has gone -to the fort to raise the guard. They are going to seize you and your ship.” She saw his expression harden, but he said nothing as he brought the boat alongside the mare. Then he threw down the punt pole, reached across to seize her around the waist and lift her from the saddle. He set her down on the deck.

“My bag!” she panted. He pulled the dirk from the sheath on his belt and cut the thong that tied it to the pommel.

He dragged it on board, slapped the mare, and she turned and floundered back towards the beach. Tom grabbed the bamboo pole and aimed the bows of the felucca at the pass once more.

“How long ago did Guy go to the fort?” he asked.

“How much time do we have?”

“Not much. He left the consulate well over two hours ago.”

“Stand by the halyard,” he ordered grimly.

“We will have to hoist the sail, and take a chance on the coral.” The lateen sail flapped and snapped, then filled with the monsoon wind. The felucca heeled sharply, and raced towards the gap in the reef She skimmed through and as soon as the water turned blue under her keel Tom stood at the tiller and brought her round on a heading for the harbour where the Swallow lay at anchor.

“Tell me everything,” he ordered. She came to him and put her arms around his waist.

“How did Guy find out?”

“A ship came in last night.”

“The Apostle,” he exclaimed.

“I should have expected this.

He listened intently as she related all the details.

When she had finished, he murmured, “God grant we are in time,” and looked ahead as the harbour of Zanzibar opened before them, and he saw the little Swallow lying tranquilly at her anchor.

“Thank God! They have not seized her yet,” he said fervently, but at that moment they both saw the flotilla of a dozen small boats that had left the stone quay below the fort and were streaming across the bay towards the ship.

Tom shaded his eyes, and stared across the mile of water that separated them from the leading boat. He recognized the tall lean figure in the plumed hat in the bows.

“Guy is keen as a hound with the smell of the fox hot in his nostrils.” The barge was riding low in the water under the weight of the armed men crowded into it. All the other craft in the flotilla were similarly laden.

“He has a hundred of the Sultan’s rascals with him, least,” Tom calculated.

“He is taking no chances. He glanced up at the masthead, and judged the strength and direction of the wind on his cheek. He had sailed the craft enough by now to know all her foibles and how to squeeze every foot of speed out of her.

BOOK: The Monsoon
11.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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