When the Lion Feeds (41 page)

Sean pushed the door shut behind him. You won't need the gun, Max, the game is over. And the score is in our favour, is it not, Mr Courtney?

Sean nodded. Yes, you've won. We are prepared to make over to you all the C. R. C. shares we hold. Max shook his head unhappily. I'm afraid it's not quite as easy as that. You have undertaken to sell us a certain number of shares and we must insist upon delivery M full Just where do you suggest we get them? Sean asked. You could buy them on the Stock Exchange.

NWFrom you? E Max shrugged but made no reply. So you are going to twist the knife, are you? "

You put it very poetically, Mr Courtney, agreed Max. Have you considered the consequences of forcing us into bankruptcy I will admidt freely that the consequences to you do not concern us. Sean smiled.

That was not very nice, Max, but I was talking about it from your point of view. Sequestration orders, creditors meetings, you can rest assured that the liquidator appointed will be a member of the Volksmad or a relative of one. There will be court actions and counter actions, enforced -sale of the shares in the estate and costs to pay. A liquidator with any sense at all could string it out for three or four years, all the time drawing a hand some commission. Have you thought about that, Max?

The narrowing of Max's eyes showed that he hadn't.

He looked at Hradsky with a trace of helplessness in his face, and Sean took a little comfort from that look. Now what I suggest is this, you let us draw ten thousand, take our horses and personal belongings. We in exchange will give you the rest. Shares, bank accounts, property, everything. You cannot possibly get more out of it if you force us into bankruptcy. Hradsky gave Max a message in their private facial code and max interpreted it to Sean. Would you mind waiting outside, please, while we discuss this offer of yours. I'll go down and have a drink in the bar, said Sean. He pulled his watch from his waistcoat pocket and checked the time. Will twenty minutes be enough? Ample, thank you, Mr courtney. Sean had his drink by himself although the bar was nowhere near empty. This was not an arrangement of his own choosing, but he was flying the fever flag of failure and so he had to take an isolation berth at one end of the bar while all the other ships steered wide of him. No one looked in his direction and the conversation that went on round him was carefully arranged so as to exclude him.

While he waited out the twenty minutes he amused himself by imagining the reactions of these his friends if he were to ask them for a loan.

This helped to take the sting out of their snubs but still he felt it rankling. He looked at his watch again. The twenty minutes were up.

Sean walked back along the counter towards the door. Jock and Trevor heyns saw him coming, they turned away abruptly and immediately became absorbed in staring at the bottle-lined shelves behind the bar counter.

Sean stopped level with Jock and cleared his throat deferentially. Jock, could you spare a minute? Jock turned slowly. Ah, Sean. Yes, what is it? Duff and I are leaving the Rand. I have something for you, just something to remember us by. I know Duff would want you to have it too.

Jock reddened with embarrassment. That's not necessary, he said and started to turn back to his drink. Please, Jock. Oh all right, Jock's voice was irritable. What is it? This, Sean said and stepped forward, moving his weight behind the fist. Jock's Large and whisky-flushed nose was a target to dream about. It was not one of Sean's best punches, he was out of training, but it was good enough to send jock in a spectacular back-somersault over the counter. Dreamily Sean picked up jock's glass and emptied it over Trevor's head. Next time you meet me smile and say "Hello", he told Trevor. Until then, stay out of mischief. He went up the stairs to Hradsky's suite in much better spirits. They were waiting for him.

Give me the word, Max, Sean could even grin at him. Mr Hradsky has very generously How much? Sean cut him short. Mr Hradsky will allow you to take fifteen hundred and your personal effects. As part of the agreement you will give an undertaking not to embark on any business venture on the Witwatersrand for a period of three years. That will be too soon, said Sean. Make it two thousand and you've got a deal. The offer is not open to discussion.

Sean could see they meant it. They didn't have to bargain; it was a statement. All right, I accept. Mr Hradsky has sent for his lawyer to draw up the agreement. Would you mind waiting, Mr Courtney? Not at all, Max, you forget I am a gentleman of leisure now. Sean found Duff still sitting in the chair where he had left him in the drawing-room of xanadu. The bottle clutched in his hand was empty and he was unconscious.

He had spilt brandy down the front of his waistcoat and three of the buttons were undone. Huddled in the big chair, his body seemed to have shrunk and the curly hair hanging onto his forehead softened the gaunt lines of his face. Sean loosened his fingers from the neck of the bottle and Duff moved restlessly, muttering and twisting his head.

Bedtime for small boys, said Sean. He lifted him out of the chair and hung him over one shoulder.

Duff sicked up copiously. That's the way, show Hradsky what you think of his bloody carpet, Sean encouraged him. Give him another one for luck, but not on my boots Duff did as he was bid and, chuckling, Sean carried him up the stairs. At the top he stopped and with Duff still bundled over one shoulder tried to analyse his own feelings. Darrin it, he felt happy. It was ridiculous to feel so happy in the midst of disaster. He went on down the passage still wondering at himself and into Duff Is room. He dropped Duff on the bed and stripped his clothes off, then he rolled him under the blankets. He brought the enamel wash basin from the bathroom and placed it next to the bed. You may need this, sleep well. There's a long ride ahead of us tomorrow. He stopped again at the top of the stairs and looked down their marble slope into the splendour of the lobby.

He was leaving all of it and that was nothing to feel happy about. He laughed aloud. Perhaps it was because he had faced complete annihilation and at the last instant had changed it into something less; by avoiding the worst he had made defeat into a victory. A pathetic little victory to be sure, but at least they were no worse off now than they had been when they had arrived on the Rand. Was that the reason? Sean thought about it and found that it wasn't the whole truth.

There was also a feeling of release. That was another part of it. To go on his way:

north to a new land. He felt the tingle of anticipation. Not a whore or a stockbroker within five hundred miles he said aloud and grinned. He gave up trying to find words for his feeling. Emotion was so damned elusive: as soon as you cornered it, it changed its shape and the net of words which you had ready to throw over it was no longer suitable. He let it go free to range through his body, accepting and enjoying it. He ran down the stairs, out through the kitchens and into the stable yard.

Mbejane! he shouted, where the hell are you The clatter of a stool overturning in the servants quarters and the door of one of the rooms burst open. Nkosi, what is it? The urgency of Sean's voice had alarmed mbejane.

Which are the six best horses we have?

Mbejane named them, making no attempt to hide his curiosity.

Are they all salted against the Nagana? "All of them, Nkosi. Good, have them ready before tomorrow's light. Two with saddles, the others to carry the packs Mbejane turned on his smile. Could it be we are going hunting, Nkosi?

It could easily be, Sean agreed.

Sleeping sickness. Salting involved deliberate exposure to the sting of the tsetse fly. Animals that recovered were then immune. How long will we be gone, Nkosi? How long is for ever? Take leave of all your women, bring your kaross and your spears and we will see where the road leads sean went back to his bedroom. It took him half an hour to pack. The pile of discarded clothing in the centre of the room grew steadily and what he kept made only half a horseload. He crammed it into two leather valises.

He found his sheepskin coat in the back of one of the closets and threw it over a chair with his leather breeches and slouch hat, ready to wear in the morning. He went down to the study and made his selection from the gun rack, ignoring the fancy doubles and obscure calibres. He took down a pair of shotguns and four Mannlichers.

Then he went to tell Candy goodbye. She was in her suite but she opened quickly to his knock.

Hav you heard? he asked her. Yes, the whole town knows. Oh! Sean, I'm so sorry please come in.

She held the door open for him. How is Duff? He'll be all right, right now he's both drunk and asleep. I'll go to him, she said quickly. He'll need me now.

For answer Sean raised an eyebrow and looked at her until she dropped her eyes.

No, you're right, I suppose. Perhaps later, when he's got over the first shock. She looked up at Sean and smiled. I suppose you need a drink. It must have been hell for you as well. She went across to the cabinet. She had on a blue gown and it clung to the womanish thrust of her hips and did not go high enough to cover the cleft of her breasts.

Sean watched her pour his drink and bring it to him. She was lovely, he thought.

Till we meet again, Candy, Sean lifted his glass.

Her eyes went wide and very blue. I don't understand.

Why do you say that!

We're going, Candy, first thing tomorrow No, Sean, you're joking. But she knew he wasn't.

There wasn't much to say after that. He finished his drink and they talked for a while, then he kissed her.

Be happy, please, he ordered her. I'll try. Come back one day soon.

Only if you promise to marry me, he smiled at her and she caught hold of his beard and tugged his head from side to side. Get away with you, before I hold you to that. He left her then because he knew she was going to weep and he didn't want to watch it.

The next Duff packed his gear under Sean's direction. He followed each instruction with a dazed obedience, answering when Sean spoke but otherwise withdrawn in a protective shell of silence. When he had finished Sean made him pick up his bags and marched him down to where the horses waited in the chill gloom of not-yet day. With the horses were men, four shapes in the darkness. Sean hesitated before going out into the yard. Mbejane, he called. Who are these with you?

They came forward into the light that poured through the doorway and sean chuckled.

Hlubi, of the noble belly! Nonga! And is it you, Kandhla? Men who had worked beside him in the trenches of the Candy Deep, had plied the spades that had uncovered his fortune, had plied the spears that protected it from the first predators. Happy at his recognition of them, for it had been many years, they crowded forward smiling as widely and whitely as only a Zulu can. What brings you three rogues together so early in the day? Sean asked, and Hlubi answered for them. Nkosi, we heard talk of a trek and our feet burned, we heard talk of hunting and we could not sleep There is no money for wages, Sean spoke gruffly to cover the sudden rush of affection he felt for them. We made no talk of wages, Hlubi answered with dignity. Sean nodded, it was the reply he had expected. He cleared his throat and went on. You would come with me when you know that I have the Tagathi on me? He used the Zulu word f or witchcraft. You would follow me knowing that behind me I leave a spoor of dead men and sorrow? Nkosi, Hlubi was grave as he answered.

Something always dies when the lion feeds, and yet there is meat for those that follow him. I hear the chatter of old women at a beer drink, Mbejane observed drily. There is no more to say and the horses grow restless. They rode down the driveway of Xanadu between the jacaranda trees and the smooth wide lawns. Behind them the mansion was grey and unlighted in the half darkness.

They took the Pretoria road, climbed to the ridge and checked their horses at the crest. Sean and Duff looked back across the valley. The valley was filled with early morning mist, and the mine headgears probed up out of it. They watched the mists turn to gold as the low sun touched them and a mine hooter howled dismally. Couldn't we stay for just a week longer, perhaps we could work something out? Duff asked softly.

Sean sat silently staring at the golden mist. It was beautiful. It hid the scarred earth and it hid the mills, it was a most appropriate cloak for that evil, greedy city.

Sean turned his horse away towards Pretoria and slapped the loose end of his reins across its neck.

The Wilderness They stayed five days in Pretoria, just long enough to buy the wagons and commission them, and when they left on the morning of the sixth day they went north on the Hunters Road. The wagons moved in column urged on by the Zulus and a dozen new servants that Sean had hired. They were followed by a mixed bag of black and white urchins and stray dogs; men called good luck after them and women waved from the verandas of the houses which lined the road. Then the town was behind them and they were out into the veld with only a dozen of the more adventurous mongrels still following them.

They made fifteen miles the first day and when they camped that night beside the ford of a small stream, Sean's back and legs ached from his first full day in the saddle in over five years. They drank a little brandy and ate steaks grilled over wood embers, then they let the fire die and sat and looked at the night. The sky was a curtain at which a barrel of grape-shot had been fired, riddling it with the holes through which the stars shone. The voices of the servants made a hive murmur as a background to the wailing of a jackal in the darkness beyond the firelight. They went to their living wagon early and for Sean the feel of rough blankets instead of silk sheets and the hardness of a straw mattress were not sufficient to keep him long from sleep.