Trade Wind (77 page)

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Authors: M M Kaye

BOOK: Trade Wind
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They could do nothing but wait, and they had waited with what patience they could muster for two scorching and interminable days: listening to die Trade Wind crooning through the palms and sighing in the casuarinas, and watching the empty track and the emptier sea. And then at last a tired horse trotted under the arch of the gate, and Hadir slid from the saddle and wiped the sweat from his dust-grimed face.

“They cannot come,” said Hadir. “There is a guard at the gate of The Dolphins’ House and the spies of the British Consul keep watch upon it Bwana Potter they captured three weeks ago, as he climbed over the outer wall of the garden in the darkness. But because he has friends in the city and they feared that if he were imprisoned in the Fort the guards would permit him to escape, they took him back to the house and told him he must remain there, but that should he make any attempt to escape he would be put on the English ship and taken far from the Island. None may leave or enter the house except to buy food, and even those are searched and followed. Jumah too was taken and is with them—”

Hadir hesitated, as though there was something else he meant to say, but if so he did not say it. His gaze slid away from Rory’s and he turned to slap the dust of the unmade roads from his robes, making a great business of it.

Rory’s eyes met Ralub’s and saw in them a confirmation of his own thought, and he said quietly: “There is something else, is there not? You had better tell us now.”

Hadir did not speak for a minute. His hands continued to fret mechanically with his dusty clothes while his dark face puckered into an expression of anxiety, and Rory said sharply: “Is it the child?”

Hadir shook his head, still without turning: “The child is well.”

“What then? The old one?” enquired Ralub harsh-voiced.

Hadir’s hands stilled and fell idle, and he turned reluctantly to face them: “No. But there is a tale that the sickness has already broken out in the city.”

He saw the shoulders of the two tall figures, Arab and Englishman, jerk and stiffen, and said quickly: “It was only a tale, and I do not know if it is true. But…”

He did not complete the sentence, and Rory, finishing it for him, said curtly: “But you think it may well be. Where did you hear this?”

“I have a cousin who has a friend in one of the houses in the Malindi quarter, and he says that his friend told him; swearing him to keep it secret, for they are afraid that if it is known they will not be permitted to move abroad to buy food. He said that cholera was brought to the house by a slave who had been sent on some errand to Mungapuani, which is on the coast ten miles beyond the city, and who returned yesterday and died within a few hours. And that now another has sickened, and two more, in terror of it, have run away and hidden themselves in the Black Town, saying nothing. If that last is true—”

“There will be a hundred dead within a week,” finished Ralub grimly. “And within two weeks a thousand!”

The tired horse shifted its weight wearily and snuffed at the sun-dried grass, and Ralub looked again at his Captain and said quietly: “There is nothing to be gained by waiting. Do we sail tonight?”

“No,” said Rory curtly. “You had better stay here until I send word.”

“From where?”

“From the city.”


Ah!
” Ralub smiled crookedly as though he had received an expected answer. “But you cannot go until that animal is rested, and by sea we may reach the harbour before morning.”

“They would hold the ship and imprison you all,” said Rory.

Ralub laughed and made a deprecatory gesture with one lean brown hand. “Never! The white men speak loudly and often of justice, and it is your head only that they require. Once they have that, they will not lay a hand on us.”

Rory shrugged and said: “Maybe. But the pestilence does not concern itself with such things as justice or the colour of a man’s skin, and it may not be so selective! You will be safer here. And once they have laid me by the heels they will permit Batty and the child and the others to leave, and I will send them here with any others from The Dolphins’ House who wish to go, and you may take them away until the sickness has passed.”

Ralub said pensively: “It is in my heart that this time they will surely hang you.”


Inshallah!
(as God wills). ‘What is written is written,’” quoted Rory with a wry smile.

Ralub nodded gravely and spread out his hands in a slow motion that was both assent and acceptance. “That is indeed so. Therefore we will go with you. For are not all things according to God’s wisdom?”

The two men looked at each other for a long, measuring moment; hard pale eyes meeting bland dark ones. Then the Englishman laughed and threw up a hand in a gesture of a swordsman who acknowledges defeat “As you will,” said Captain Rory Frost. “Let us go.”

33

“Well, I’ll be
jiggered
—!”

Able seaman Albert Weeks of Her Britannic Majesty’s steam sloop
Daffodil
rubbed his eyes to make sure that he had seen aright, and noting those unmistakable portholes, swore long and profanely.

The pitiless light of another cloudless dawn illuminated the white walls and crowded rooftops of the city, the greasy, rubbish-littered harbour water, and, clearly visible on the far side of a big sea-going dhow, the familiar lines of an anchored schooner that had certainly not been there on the previous evening, but must have slipped in noiselessly at the turn of the tide and under cover of the dark hour before dawn.

Mr Weeks’ disbelieving gaze changed to wrathful certainty, and turning about he pelted aft to awaken his commanding officer, who for greater coolness had taken to sleeping out on the open deck.

“Beggin’ your pardon, sir,” announced Mr Weeks breathlessly, “but it’s that there schooner, sir. The
Virago
, sir. She must’a sneaked in on the tide an hour or two back, and she’s a’sittin’ there as bold as brass abaft that dhow.”

“I don’t believe it!” said Lieutenant Larrimore, stumbling to his feet “You must have made a mistake.”

“It’s Gawd’s truth, sir. I’d know the cut of’er jib anywhere, an’—”

Dan hitched up the loose cotton trousers that formed his sleeping attire and ran forward along the dawn-lit deck. It did not need more than a brief glance to confirm the truth of the able seaman’s statement. It was the
Virago
at last, delivered into his hand. And the very fact she was there argued that her Captain could not be too far away, since Dan did not believe that Rory Frost would abandon his ship, and with it his crew and his livelihood.

He could not imagine why Frost should have come back at this juncture, but it was enough that he had, and Dan ordered out the jolly-boat and hurried down to the cabin to don his uniform, belt on his sword and see to the priming of his pistol.

The city was reluctantly awakening to another day as he went over the side, and in stiffing, overcrowded houses and narrow, reeking streets, in hot courtyards and cool mosques and on the dew-wet decks of the dhows, men rose to face Mecca and recite the appointed prayers with which all True Believers have saluted the dawn since the Prophet ascended to Paradise. As the jolly-boat rounded the bulk of the dhow Dan could see the Arab seamen high above him kneeling and rising as the ritual demanded, absorbed in their devotions and apparently oblivious of anything around them. But he knew that no movement escaped those devoutly raised eyes, and that they not only marked his passing but were well aware of his errand.

On the forward deck of the
Virago
the three members of her crew who were engaged in prostrating themselves did not turn their heads or betray any sign of having observed his approach. But neither Hajji Ralub nor Hadir was among them, and there was no sign of Captain Emory Frost.

Dan did not trouble to hail the schooner, and as the jolly-boat shipped oars and came alongside he climbed aboard, and ignoring the worshippers, vanished down the companionway; no man preventing him.

Rory put down his coffee cup and rose courteously as though to an expected guest. “Good morning, Dan. You’re late. I expected to see you alongside a good hour ago. Or didn’t your look-out spot us coming in? Don’t tell me your Officer-of-the-Watch was asleep! You ought to keep better discipline aboard, Danny—what with all these bad characters about Coffee? Or would you prefer something stronger?”

“You must be well aware,” said Dan without heat, “that I would not accept so much as a drink of water from you if I were dying of thirst in a desert. So there is no need for you to waste your time and mine in trying to make me lose my temper. If you succeeded it would only mean saving the hangman trouble. Are you coming with me, or do I have to send for a guard to take you?”

“That depends on where you intend to go. If you are thinking of taking me to pay a call on our respected Consul, I shall be only too pleased to accompany you—so you can stop fingering that pistol in such an intimidating manner. I should tell you that he will be expecting us, for Hajji Ralub went ashore well over half-an-hour ago to inform him that I should do myself the honour of calling upon him as soon as you were ready to provide a suitable escort for me. He must be wondering how much longer you’re going to be about it Shall we go?”

Dan’s cold blue gaze did not waver and his smile was as chilly and unpleasant as his eyes. He said meditatively: “I’d give a good deal to know why you think you can talk your way out of this. You must have some good reason for it, and for coming back here openly. I imagine you’re counting on your friends up at the Palace to save your neck. But that nag won’t run this time.”

“It’s their country,” observed Rory mildly.

“But you’re not a citizen of it. You’re a British subject and as such can be summarily dealt with under British law.”

“By which you mean summarily hanged.”

“That’s right.”

“On what grounds?”

“Murder, Kidnapping and Incitement to Violence.”

“Dear me! It sounds very damning. But I feel that both you and the Colonel are running grave risks if you intend to execute me without the formality of a trial. Aren’t you afraid that some officious Member of Parliament may ask a question in the House?”

“Not in the least. The British public are hardly likely to interest themselves in the fate of a renegade rapist, and I cannot see that it will help you very much if they do, since you will already be dead. Besides, it will be pointed out that the situation prevailing here was of such delicacy that your immediate demise, as the instigator of the riots, was necessary for the safety of the community. And you needn’t worry yourself over the matter of a trial, because we’ll see that you have one; if it’s any satisfaction to you. Colonel Edwards has already taken the signed testimony of a good many reliable witnesses, and you can be sure that he will be ready to listen to anything you have to say in your own defence before he passes sentence on you.”

“Good of him. But surely a waste of time if he has, as you suggest, already made up his mind to put an end to my existence?”

“It will look better in the report,” said Dan blandly.

The Captain’s laugh held a note of genuine appreciation, and he said without mockery: “Danny, you are a man after my own heart. Which is more than I can say for that humourless old fragment of rectitude, Edwards! But what makes you think you can persuade me to put my head into your noose?”

Dan’s mouth stretched in an unsmiling grin and he made a brief gesture with the weapon he held: “This, for one thing. And for another, I have half-a-dozen men out there, and they are all armed.”

“I know. I saw them. The gentleman who designed this ship did not have those portholes put in solely with a view to ventilation.”

For the first time a flicker of doubt showed in the Lieutenant’s eyes, and Rory saw it and laughed again. “Come, come, Dan! You must have known that I’d be expecting a reception committee. You should have given the situation a little more thought and moved your ship before you came visiting. As it is, you can’t bring your guns to bear on me from where you’re lying. Let me show you something, Dan. You see that dhow out there? Her crew were at their prayers when you passed, but while I have been keeping you here talking they have concluded their devotions, and by now every one of your seamen will be covered by at least three muskets—not counting those on a dhow that you will observe to starboard. You see, I still have a few friends in these waters.”

“My guns—” began Dan, and was interrupted:

“Oh, I don’t deny that your guns could probably blow the dhow out of the water once your shipmates realized what had happened to you. But if you will forgive the plagiarism, I don’t see that it would help you very much if they did, for you would already be dead.”

The lines that strain and responsibility had etched on Dan’s sunburned skin grew deeper, and his face seemed to stiffen, but he resisted the temptation to glance towards either of the two open portholes that flanked the narrow cabin, and only his trigger finger moved, tightening ominously on the cold curve of metal. He said grimly: “You forget that you will have predeceased me, for if any of your cut-throat friends open fire I shall shoot you on the instant. I mean that!”

“I’m sure you do,” grinned Captain Frost. “And they won’t. But that pistol of yours fails to impress me, for even you must see that it at least offers me a quicker and cleaner exit than choking to death at the end of a rope. Besides, if you use it you will only make yourself responsible for a far worse outbreak of violence than anything that has gone before, and you’re supposed to be here to prevent further bloodshed; not to stir it up again. Much as you and the Colonel would enjoy seeing me swing, I’m afraid you’re going to have to deny yourselves that pleasure. For the time being, anyway. So I suggest you stop fingering that trigger and go up on deck and tell your men to return peacefully to their ship, and as soon as they’ve gone some of my own men can row us ashore to pay a call on the Consul. Well, Dan?”

The muscles of Dan’s right hand tightened and quivered, and for a fleeting moment it seemed as though he would pull the trigger and take the consequences. But five harsh years patrolling the East African coast had not failed to teach him the unwisdom of leaping before he looked, and rage had already driven him to make one serious mistake that morning. He looked now, with a cold anger that did nothing to obscure the truth, and saw only too clearly that Captain Emory Frost was right. To provoke an exchange of shots between his own men and the dhows that lay on either side of the
Virago
would almost certainly end in his own death and that of the jolly-boat’s crew. And although the
Daffodil’s
guns could be counted upon to exact a terrible vengeance, the sight of a pitched battle between a British ship and a pair of Arab dhows would infallibly touch off a further explosion of violence in the city; with consequences that did not bear contemplating.

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