Danger at Dahlkari (16 page)

“No, Michael.” My voice was sharp.

“Don't pretend you don't want me to.”

“Michael, please—”

He frowned, a deep line digging between his brows, and his eyes darkened. He studied me as though I were a problem he was trying to solve, his fingers gripping my shoulders all the while. I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes, and my throat felt tight. I wished I could melt against him and welcome that firm, curving mouth and let him have his way with me, but something held me back, and it wasn't merely my rigid sense of propriety. I didn't fully understand it myself, and I knew that Michael had every reason to resent my stiffness.

“Why are you fighting it?” he asked. “You know it's inevitable. You knew it from the first, at the dance, just as I did.”

“I—I want to be sure, Michael.”

“You're not?”

“I—I think I'm very fond of you. I haven't had much experience with this—this sort of thing. I've had no experience at all, really, and I want to—”

I paused, trying to find the right words, but they wouldn't come. I looked up at him with beseeching eyes, and after a moment Michael tightened his mouth and shook his head and let his hands drop from my shoulders. A parrot cried out raucously. Something scurried through the brush. Leaves rustled stiffly, and two tiny monkeys scampered across the bough of a tree nearby. Michael sighed deeply and stepped back.

“Forgive me. I shouldn't have rushed you.”

“We've only had a week, Michael, and—it's been a wonderful week. I think it's been the happiest week of my life. All I ask is just a little more time.”

“I understand.”

“You—you're not angry?”

“Of course not,” he said quietly.

“I'm sorry. I—”

“I'm entirely to blame,” Michael said. Turning away from me, he ran his hand across his brow, sweeping back those tumbled blond locks. “I forgot myself. You just looked so damned appealing with your hair all falling loose like that—I should have realized you needed more time.”

Sally and Sergeant Norman came back then, and I think Michael was almost as relieved as I was. He was calm and pleasant and as agreeable as ever, but there was a barely perceptible reserve that hadn't been there before, and that earlier relaxed, breezy manner was gone entirely. Would it have been so wrong to have let him kiss me? Hadn't I wanted him to do just that? Hadn't I? Wasn't I in love with him?

Sally chattered merrily about their adventure down by the river. She had lost her balance completely, had almost fallen in, and Bill had caught her
just
in time. Of course the water wasn't deep, but there was ever so much mud. Sergeant Norman wore a sheepish grin and looked very pleased with himself. He seemed to have completely forgotten his earlier apprehensions about the wisdom of this outing and was obviously enjoying himself immensely. He and Sally were as carefree and enthusiastic as two children. I envied that zest, that natural, hearty acceptance of each other. Questions like those I had just asked myself would never plague either of them.

“Oh, you've taken your
hair
down,” Sally exclaimed.

“It was—coming undone. All that wind. I—I decided I might as well take it down and be done with it.”

Sally gave Michael and me a knowing look. “I
see
,” she said, and I wanted to slap her.

“We'd better get going,” Michael said. His voice was terse.

“Right,” Norman agreed. “There are some rocks in the stream a little ways down. We can step across 'em to get to the other side. I'll just check the horses, see that they're in the shade.”

A group of rocks did indeed form a ragged path across the stream, some of them as much as a yard apart, all of them wet and slippery. Sally vowed that she'd never be able to make it and contrived to look exceedingly helpless. Sergeant Norman shook his head in mock disgust, swept her up in his arms and stepped from one rock to the other, reaching the other side without mishap. Michael looked at me, and I told him that I was sure I could cross easily enough, not about to let him carry me. As it was, he went on ahead, turning to hold out his hand for me. I almost slipped once, but he held my hand tightly and I regained my balance.

On the other side of the stream the ground gradually rose, steeper and steeper until we were practically climbing. I realized that we were moving up one of the hills I had seen in the distance when we were riding. Soon we reached a huge shelf of rock and earth that loomed up fifty feet or so. It was half covered with vines, small blue and purple flowers growing in the crevices. It looked impossible to climb, but Michael pointed out a large crevice that wound its way to the top. We began to climb, Sergeant Norman leading the way, Sally behind him, Michael bringing up the rear. It wasn't terribly difficult, for there were plenty of vines to hold on to, a wall of rock and earth on either side, but by the time we reached the top all of us were a bit soiled and dusty. I began to see why the men hadn't wanted to wear their good uniforms.

We had reached the summit of the hill. There was a clearing of perhaps twenty feet, then a seemingly endless stretch of jungle, much denser than any I had yet seen. Soon we were passing through dark green tunnels, trees close on either side, limbs a thick tangle overhead, vines hanging down in tangled clusters. There was no path as such, and we followed a rather tortuous course, Sergeant Norman forging on ahead with great confidence. Sally clung tightly to his arm, deathly afraid we would encounter a leopard. Or so she claimed. The sergeant greatly enjoyed playing the protective male, a role that suited him nicely.

Michael held the vines back for me and pointed out roots to avoid and once he caught my arm when I almost tripped, but he was silent and rather withdrawn. It was warm here, and damp, the air fetid. After we had been walking for some time the jungle seemed to thin out somewhat, the trees not so close together, vines not so thick. Far ahead I could see a blaze of dazzling sunlight and something gray. As we drew nearer I saw it was a wall, my first glimpse of Karbala. I felt a rush of excitement, for I had always been fascinated by ruins, and the temples and broken courtyards of Karbala were all that remained of a civilization so ancient it had no recorded history.

I recalled the article the Royal Geographical Society had published about Karbala. The ruined city had been completely covered by shrubbery and vines, literally hidden in the jungle for centuries, but most of these had been cut away now, and the ruins stood in a clearing of several acres, completely surrounded by jungle. The sunlight was almost blinding after being in the dim, heavily shadowed jungle. Sally blinked. I shaded my eyes. Both men suddenly looked ill at ease, Michael a bit too formal, Sergeant Norman bluff and obviously embarrassed. There were over a dozen temples and a labyrinth of fallen walls and courtyards, columns standing here and there, all crumbling and dust-coated, all of a crumbly gray stone streaked with the green and bronze of erosion. Everywhere there were carvings, and when I saw the nature of them I realized why the men were so awkward.

“Isn't it
pretty
?” Sally exclaimed. “I never was much one for ruins, to tell you the truth, not my sort of thing, but these are adorable. Look at all those intricate carvings, such detail.” Sally paused, and her eyes grew wide in disbelief. “Miss Lauren, I declare! What are they
do
ing?” She was incredulous.

We faced a high wall, half of it fallen, a heap of crumbled gray stone at one end. There was a very dramatic frieze in bas-relief depicting a number of merry couples engaged in an age-old activity, the variety tf positions quite astonishing. The figures were exquistitely done, the craftsmanship superb, although the female figures were slightly exaggerated, naked bosoms and hips rather too full. Certain portions of the male anatomy were likewise exaggerated. I tried hard not to blush, telling myself that I was intelligent enough to be objective and could view the ruins without letting my Victorian upbringing blind me to their beauty and importance. Sally was not quite so cool. She pranced nimbly over to the wall, peered closely at one of the couples and gasped.

“Goodness me! I never knew people did
that
. It's quite an education. Folks back then were certainly resourceful.”

“Do you see why I didn't want to bring you here?” Michael asked.

“I've seen worse in museums,” I replied cooly, quite untruthfully as well. “We came to see them. Shall we proceed? There's no need to stand here and—gawk like day-trippers.”

Michael smiled for the first time since we had left the stream.

“You're indeed full of surprises,” he remarked. “I expected you to recoil in horror, perhaps even swoon.”

“That would be silly indeed, wouldn't it?”

Sally had recovered herself. She pretended a blasé disinterest in the carvings, although I could see her curiosity was lively indeed. She looked a bit alarmed when Michael and I began to walk away and asked if it wouldn't be better for us all to stay together. She would clearly be more comfortable with another woman around, for once not so eager to be alone with her good-looking sergeant.

“I'll take care of you,” he said. “Come on, I'll show you around.”

“I'm really not all that interested in a bunch of old carvings. Quite uncivilized they are, too. Mercy me, surely that isn't two
elephants
? You let go of my hand, Bill Norman. I'm quite capable of walking about on my own. Don't you be getting any ideas!”

Michael and I walked around the wall and into the labyrinth. Once the initial shock was gone, I was better able to appreciate the artistry of the carvings, but I was still embarrassed and fought hard to conceal it. Crossing a courtyard of uneven gray stones, we stood before a large open temple with six spiraled columns supporting a roof that rose like a pyramid, hundreds and hundreds of figures adorning it. All of them were as active and versatile as those on the wall, a writhing mass of gray stone couples with explicit bodies engaged in explicit activity. I examined the temple with a studied calm difficult to maintain.

“You can see why the place hasn't become a great attraction,” Michael remarked. “Most of the English pretend it doesn't exist.”

“I think it's fascinating. Their culture was—obviously quite different from ours, but that's no reason why an intelligent person can't observe the ruins objectively.”

My voice was slightly strained, and Michael was fully aware of my embarrassment, try though I might to conceal it. I was the one who had insisted on coming here over all objections, and I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd been right to advise against it. None of my reading, none of my scholarly studies over the years had prepared me for anything like this, and I had thought I was quite well versed in primitive customs and immune to shock. It took a great deal of self-control to meet his gaze without looking away.

“Shall we continue?” he inquired.

“Of course. I want to see it all.”

There were more temples, some of them fully standing, others tumbling down with piles of shattered stone about them, and there were more walls with bas-reliefs. Moving across another courtyard, we came upon a wall with three life-sized figures carved on it, two men and one woman. Although part of it had crumbled away, one of the men headless, the woman's right arm missing, it was by far the most explicit carving we had yet seen, and I tried to tell myself it was just ancient gray stone streaked with erosion and nothing at all to be alarmed about, but because the figures were life-sized it seemed all the more obscene. The men wore sandals and form-fitting jackets and leggings bunched up at the knee, the female in bracelets and a headdress that rose in a spire. I wasn't certain just what the three of them were doing, for it didn't seem humanly possible. I moved on rather hurriedly, and Michael chuckled. After the acrobatic trio in stone anything else was decidedly mild, and I was able to view the rest of the ruins without dismay.

The sun poured down in brilliant silver-yellow rays, bathing stone and dirt-streaked ground, intensifying the green of the surrounding jungle. A flock of vivid scarlet and blue birds flew over the ruins, and tiny yellow-green lizards scurried over the stones. Shock behind me, I began to enjoy myself as Michael and I continued to explore the ruined city. I tried to imagine the people who had lived here so many centuries ago, an uninhibited race who had lived and died before history was written. Frequently we heard a husky laugh or a trill of girlish laughter coming from another part of the ruins as Sally and the sergeant did their own exploring.

“Impressed?” Michael inquired.

“Very much so,” I said. “Once—once you get over the surprise, the ruins are lovely. It's hard to believe people lived here hundreds of years before Christ. I wonder what became of them.”

“I've no idea. Offhand, I'd say they died of exhaustion.”

“Michael,” I scolded.

“Sorry. I couldn't resist that.”

We paused to rest in the shade of a crumbled wall near the edge of the jungle. I sat down on the stump of a column, spreading my blue riding skirt out and folding my hands demurely in my lap. Michael stood with his hands thrust into his pockets, his head tilted to one side. The tension between us had vanished completely. Leaves rustled nearby. One of the tiny jade lizards lolled in a patch of sunlight. I was tired, but pleasantly so. It had been a most unusual day, one I wouldn't soon forget. Michael looked at me with thoughtful blue eyes.

“I'm afraid I made an ass of myself back there by the stream,” he said quietly. “I hope you won't hold it against me.”

“Don't be foolish. Of course I won't.”

“I don't ordinarily act that way, you know. Ordinarily I'm rather indifferent to feminine charms.”

“Indeed?”

“I'm not saying I haven't had women. There've been a number of them in my life, but—well, it all seemed a lot of bother, not worth the effort. I was far more interested in making my mark in the world, advancing my career. I was never the aggressor, not once. The—uh—ladies always made the first move and, being an agreeable chap, I generally played along if the lady was interesting enough.”