Mercenary (24 page)

Louisa did not look convinced and she got to her feet. ‘What shall we do with them?’ she asked, looking at the peasants.

‘What do you want to do with them?’

She got his point. ‘We’ll take them back with us.’

‘What about the soldiers?’

Victor and Bernard were stripping them of any weaponry, while Kebowa and Mohesiwa kept them covered with their drawn-back arrows.

‘We’ll let them go,’ she said. ‘They can tell the story of what a handful of revolutionaries can do.’

Stratton began to walk away down the rise.

‘Legend will, of course, include a shadowy Englishman. But no one will really know who he was and why he came here. He was called The Mercenary, but that couldn’t have been true. He took no payment for his work. And then he left as mysteriously as he arrived.’

Stratton continued walking.

Louisa watched him go.

 

The rebels were strangely quiet on the homeward journey. Even Victor did not say much. But they were not really subdued, not in their hearts. What had happened at the bridge had simply made them more serious. In part they could not believe what they had done or, indeed, that they had all survived - and with hardly a scratch, at that. What was more, they had saved a dozen souls. As Victor had said, it was the stuff of legend.

He believed Neravista would be so shocked by the death of his brother that it could take him weeks to react. That was not due to any emotional debilitation, he was quick to point out. The man was incapable of such a thing, even when it came to his own family. Neravista would have been knocked back by the sheer audacity and fury of the assault.

Those adult peasants unfit to walk rode on the horses and burros with the children. The group travelled during the daytime and rested at night even though there was a possibility that government troops would be mobilised to find them. Stratton decided that the risks of serious injury to the women and children moving at night were far greater. By late afternoon of the third day they reached the plateau and the familiar approaches to their encampment.

Louisa had not given the reunion with her father much thought. But the smell of the campfires seemed to revive the guilt she had originally felt about leaving him, knowing how much he would have worried.

Victor suggested entering the camp the same way they had left, by the rarely used route direct to the stables to avoid the main entrance. It was more than likely that the entire camp already knew about the death of Chemora. News like that travelled fast. Whether or not it was known who precisely had undertaken the task remained to be seen.

As the group approached the stables Yoinakuwa came out to greet them. Victor never ceased to be amazed how that man knew about things before anyone else did. His sons ran to him and after embracing they walked off together, the sons evidently gabbling on about the explosion they had seen and the carnage it had caused.

Louisa lifted off the children who’d been riding on her horse and saw that they were escorted to the main camp. As she unbuckled the animal’s saddle she noticed the white stallion running around the corral in an agitated fashion, which was most unlike it. A sudden fear coursed through her - the horse was Sebastian’s and such animals were sensitive to a much-loved master’s feelings.

As she walked to the top of the track Stratton sensed her concern and watched her. Suddenly she broke into a sprint, and he hurried after her towards the cabins. Sebastian’s had a large hole in the side with burn marks around it and the roof had been badly charred.

Louisa reached the front door, pushed it open and hurried inside. The room had been almost destroyed by what appeared to have been a blast of some kind.‘Father?’ she shouted, clambering over broken furniture to the room at the back. She pushed open the door to find it looking normal other than the bed being dishevelled. The maid always made it up while her father had his breakfast.

Panic gripped her heart and she ran out of the room and back to the front door as Stratton arrived. She hurried past him and raced outside, filled with dread that something had happened to Sebastian. Reaching the door of the smaller cabin she flung it open. Sebastian was seated at a table, calmly writing something. ‘Father!’ she cried. He got to his feet and she fell into his arms. They hugged tightly.

‘I was very worried about you,’ Sebastian said.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you,’ Louisa said. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked.

‘I’m fine,’ he said, happy to see her. ‘What about you?’

She nodded, almost overcome with relief. ‘I’m fine too.’

They laughed and embraced again.

Stratton stepped into the doorway and, seeing them together, turned away as Victor came running over. ‘Where’s Sebastian?’ he asked with urgency.

‘He’s in there. Everything is fine,’ Stratton said, taking Victor’s arm to lead him away. ‘Give them a moment together,’ he said.

Victor understood and exhaled deeply as his tension eased. He looked back at the main cabin and the damage that had been done to it. ‘They tried to kill him. I’m sure of it.’

In their cabin Stratton and Victor ate a meal by the light of a hurricane lamp and some candles. Victor was lost in thought and stared at one of the candle flames.

He looked at Stratton, who also appeared to be deep in thought, and held the wine jug over the Englishman’s mug. Stratton did not react and Victor started to pour before realising that Stratton’s mug was still full. ‘You’re not drinking tonight?’ he asked.

Stratton shook his head.

‘What are you thinking about?’ Victor asked.

Stratton did not say.

‘I think I know. You’re going home tomorrow, for sure this time.’

‘For sure.’

‘Maybe you’ll be lucky and something else will stop you.’ Victor inspected the palms of his hands. ‘Can I ask you something?’

Stratton didn’t seem to care either way.

‘If you knew something . . . maybe I should say, if you strongly suspected something that no one else did, and you wanted to reveal it, but if you did it would mean risking ridicule, would you still say it or would you stay silent?’

‘What are you talking about?’ Stratton asked tiredly.

‘I know. It doesn’t make sense. But I can’t say anything without saying what I don’t want to say. Ah, forget it.’

Stratton felt a twinge of guilt about not being of help to the Frenchman. ‘I suppose that would depend on how important it was.’

‘It’s very important. Life-threatening.’

‘Then why would you be ridiculed?’

‘Because people don’t take me seriously. Have you ever wondered why Sebastian made me his second in command? Everyone else does.’

Stratton had too but didn’t want even to hint at it.

‘I was not Sebastian’s first second in command, nor even his second or third. Those men had all been soldiers, selected for their military skills as well as for their leadership. They were strong-minded men who had firm opinions about how things should be run. On occasion they would act on their own initiative, often to Sebastian’s consternation. He wanted to control everything himself. He came to see those strong-minded men as obstacles. When I arrived he must have decided I was perfect for him. I was educated, I had management skills and I didn’t know a damned thing about soldiering. I was also not very assertive. Oh, I can stand up for myself, but that’s not the same. I would not obstruct him. But I did begin to question things.’

Victor took a long sip of his wine and went silent.

‘Do you have proof ?’ Stratton asked.

‘Of what?’

‘This thing you know, or suspect, that no one else does.’

‘Of course not. I would not be ridiculed if I could prove it.’

‘Is there proof ? Can you get any?’

‘There must be. But I don’t know how to get it.’

‘Can you influence a change?’

‘What do you mean?’ Victor asked, showing interest in the suggestion.

‘I don’t know. Only you do. I’m trying to help you out, that’s all.’

‘No, no. That’s an interesting question,’ Victor said, looking thoughtful. And then just as quickly he lost confidence in himself. ‘But I don’t think I’m strong enough.’

‘In what way? Physically or mentally?’

‘Both.’

‘I think you’re too hard on yourself.’

‘If that’s a way of saying I’m tougher than I think, thank you. But I know myself well enough.’

‘That’s what they all say. I’ve spent my entire adult life in wars and conflicts. They have a habit of chang - ing everything about a man. People either change to survive the violence, escape it, or they change to fight it. Maybe you weren’t the most perfect second in command when you took the job. But maybe you’re a lot more like those other guys now than you think.’

Victor thought about this as he took another sip of wine. ‘And you, my friend. How have you changed?’

Stratton shrugged.

Victor smiled as if he knew something. ‘Have you ever been in love before?’

Stratton didn’t want to hear that particular question. He reached for his mug of wine.

‘Come on. Why don’t you lower that wall just for once in your life?’

Stratton held on to his mug and stared at the candle. ‘I thought I had been, until now. I would have run away the day I got here if I’d known it was going to be like this.’

‘Then you have not changed at all. Anyone can fall in love. The change for you would be holding on to it.’

Stratton glanced at Victor, feeling the sting of the comment. He got up and went to the fire that burned vigorously in the grate. A large cauldron of steaming water hung on a chain above it. ‘You want this first?’ he asked, dipping a finger in it just long enough to discover it was hot.

Victor emptied his mug and got to his feet. ‘I had a bath last week,’ he said, picking up his hat and jacket and walking to the door. ‘I will not be back tonight,’ he said, looking resolute about something. ‘If you can change, well, I can too.’ He opened the door and paused to look back at Stratton. ‘In case I don’t get a chance to say it later, it’s been an honour.’

The two men held each other’s gazes for a moment. Victor stepped into the darkness and closed the door behind him. Stratton could only wonder what was on the Frenchman’s mind.

A large metal bath hung from a nail on the wall. Stratton lifted it off and placed it in front of the fire.

He wiped a finger around the inside to discover that it was coated in dust. ‘Which week was that, Victor?’ he asked softly.

He rinsed out the bath with some cold water and set about emptying the cauldron into it.

 

As Victor left the cabin he noticed the flames of the courtyard fire. Half a dozen armed rebels were gathered at the wooden table, talking, smoking and drinking coffee. The night had a distinct chill to it. All of the men wore jackets or woollen jumpers.

Victor gave them a wave that was returned with more enthusiasm than he had noticed before. Those who had taken part in the Chemora attack had been elevated to heroic status. Victor could not help feeling inspired by the achievement as he headed towards the smaller cabin.

He knocked on the door, which was opened a moment later by Louisa. ‘Victor. Come in,’ she said.

Sebastian was at the table, finishing off a meal. ‘Good evening, Victor. To what do we owe the pleasure?’

‘I was wondering if I could have a brief word with you. Something has been on my mind and I have to discuss it.’

‘We cannot have things weighing heavily on minds if they can be lifted,’ Sebastian said.

‘I’m going for a walk,’ Louisa said. ‘Don’t wait up for me.’ She smiled a goodbye to her father and Victor and left the cabin.

Victor faced Sebastian and took a deep breath as if to strengthen his resolve. ‘I’m troubled,’ he said. ‘It has to do with this assassination attempt.’

Sebastian waited patiently.

‘The one person I least trust in all of this is Steel. At least we know Neravista. We know what he wants.’

‘We all know not to trust Steel.’

‘Yes, but we all have different ideas of how far to trust him. You trust him enough to let him into this camp, for instance. I do not. I would not be surprised if he had something to do with the attempt on your life.’

‘Where is your evidence?’

‘I don’t have any.’

‘Then this notion is a product of your imagination.’

‘That’s not all. I think Steel has allegiances to others - stronger than to us. I do not discount Hector’s involvement in this.’

Sebastian’s gaze turned cold. ‘Please don’t try to manipulate me, Victor. I expect more from you.’

‘Do you?’ Sebastian did not miss the flash of new tough-mindedness in Victor’s tone. ‘I came here to give you my views. As second in command I think I am entitled to air them.’

‘If I wanted those kinds of views I would have someone with a background in military intelligence as my adviser.’