When I first met you I thought that you were brilliant and adamant and beautiful as one of your own diamonds, he said.
And now? she asked.
I have seen you weep for maimed horses, and I have sensed in you a deep compassion for a man who has done you cruel injury, he replied. 'When we left Kalkrand I was in love with you. I suppose I was in love with you from the first hour I met you. I couldn't help that, but now I also like you and respect you. Is that a different thing from love? It is a very different thing from being in love, he affirmed, and they were silent for a while before she tried to explain.
Blaine, I have been alone for a long time with a small child to protect and to plan for. When I came to this land as a girl, I served a hard, unrelenting apprenticeship in this desert. I learned that there was nobody I could rely upon but myself, no way to survive but through my own strength and determination. That hasn't altered. I still have nobody but myself on whom I can rely. Isn't that so, Blaine? I wish it were not. He did not attempt to avoid her gaze but looked back at her candidly. I wish,, He broke off and she finished the statement for him. But, you have Isabella and your girls. He nodded. Yes, they cannot fend for themselves. And I can!, isn't that right, Blaine? Don't be bitter with me, please. I did not seek this. I have never made you any promises. I'm sorry. She was immediately contrite. You are right.
You have never promised me anything., She glanced at her watch. 'Our little hour is up, she said, and rose in a single lithe movement to her feet.
I shall just have to go on being strong and hard, she said.
But never tax me with it again, please Blaine. Never again. They had been forced to abandon five of their own horses since leaving the water-hole of the elephant, and Blaine was alternating between walking and riding in an attempt to save the remaining animals. They rode for half an hour and then dismounted and led for the next half hour.
Only the Bushmen were unaffected by the thirst and fatigue and heat, and they chafed at the halting and torturous pace they were forced to adopt.
The only consolation is that De La Rey is doing even worse than we are. From the spoor they could read that the fugitives, reduced to a single horse between them, were making even slower progress. And it's still thirty miles or more to the river. Blaine checked his watch. Time to walk again, I'm afraid. Centaine groaned softly as she swung down from the saddle. She ached in every muscle, and the tendons of her hamstrings and calves felt like twisted wire strands.
They trudged forward and every pace required a conscious effort. Centaine's tongue filled her mouth, thick and leathery, and the mucous membrane of her throat and nostrils was swollen and painful so that it was difficult to breathe. She tried to collect her saliva and hold it in her mouth, but it was gummy and sour, serving only to make her thirst more poignant.
She had forgotten what it was like to be truly thirsty, and the soft sloshing sound of the water bottles on the saddle of the horse she was leading became a torment, She could think of nothing but when they would next be allowed to drink. She kept glancing at her wrist-watch, convincing herself that it had stopped, that she had forgotten to wind it, that at any moment Blaine would lift his arm to halt the column and they could unscrew the stoppers on the water bottles.
Nobody spoke from choice. All orders were terse and monosyllabic, every word an effort.
I won't be the first to give in, Centaine decided grimly, and then she was alarmed that the thought had even occurred to her. 'Nobody will give in. We have to catch them before the river and the river is not far ahead. She found she was focusing only on the earth at her feet, interest in her surroundings, and she knew that was losing a dangerous sign, the first small surrender. She forced herself to look up. Blaine was ahead of her. She had fallen back in those few paces, and she made a huge effort and dragged her horse forward until she was side by side with him again.
Immediately she felt heartened, she had won another victory over her body's frailty.
Blaine smiled at her, but she saw that it had cost him an
effort also. Those kopjes are not marked on the map, he said.
She had not noticed them, but now she looked up and a mile ahead saw their smooth bald granite heads raised above the forest. She had never been this far north; it was new territory for her.
I don't think this country has ever been surveyed, she whispered, and then cleared her throat and spoke more clearly. Only the river itself has been mapped., We will drink when we reach the foot of the nearest hill, he promised her.
A carrot for the donkey, she murmured, and he grinned.
Think about the river. That is a garden full of carrots. And they relapsed into silence; the Bushmen led them directly towards the hills. At the base of the granite cone they found the last of Lothar De La Rey's horses.
It lay on its side, but it lifted its head as they walked up to it. Blaine's mare whickered softly, and the downed animal tried to reply but the effort was too much. It dropped its head flat against the earth and its short hampered breathing raised tiny wisps of dust that swirled around its nostrils.
The Bushmen circled the dying animal and then conferred excitedly.
Kwi ran a short way towards the grey side of the kopje and looked up.
They all followed his example, staring up the steep rounded expanse of granite. It was two or three hundred feet high. The surface was not as smooth as it had appeared at a distance. There were deep cracks, some lateral, others running vertically from the foot to the summit, and the granite was flaking away in the onion peel effect caused by heat expansion and contraction. This left small sharp-edged steps which would give footholds and make it possible for a man to reach the top, though it would be an exposed and potentially dangerous climb.
On the summit a cluster of perfectly round boulders, each the size of a large dwelling house, formed a symmetrical crown. The whole was one of those natural compositions so artful and contrived that it seemed to have been conceived and executed by human engineers. Centaine was strongly reminded of the dolmens which she had visited as a child in France, or of one of those ancient Mayan temples in the South American jungles which she had seen illustrated.
Blaine had left her side and led his mount towards the foot of the granite cliff, and something on the crest of the kopje caught Centaine's eye. It was a flicker of movement in the shadow beneath one of the crowning boulders
