Power of the Sword - Smith Wilbur (читать книги онлайн регистрации .TXT) 📗

He stared out towards the south, across the plain and the scattered mopani forest, in the direction from which the relentless pursuit would come. The climb up the sheer granite wall had taxed him severely and he was not yet recovered from it.

Leave me one water bottle, he ordered and Hendrick placed it beside him.

I have filled it from those, Hendrick indicated the pile of discarded, empty water bottles. And we have a full bottle to see us as far as the river. Good. Lothar nodded and checked the other equipment laid out beside him on the granite slab.

that was There were four hand grenades, the old potato masher type with a wooden handle. They had lain in the cache with the horse irons and other equipment for almost twenty years and he could not rely upon them.

Klein Boy had left his rifle and his bandolier of Mauser ammunition with the grenades. So Lothar had two rifles and 150 rounds - more than enough, if the grenades worked. If they didn't it wouldn't matter anyway.

All right, Lothar said quietly. I have everything I need.

You can go. Hendrick turned his cannonball of a head to peer into the south. They were on a grandstand, high above the world, and the sweep of their horizon was twenty miles or more, but there was as yet no sign of the pursuit.

Hendrick started to rise to his feet, and then paused. He squinted into the heat haze and the glare. Dust! he said. It was still five miles away, a pale haze above the trees.

Yes. Lothar had seen it minutes before. It could be a herd of zebra, or a willy willy, but I wouldn't bet my share of the loot on it.

Move out now. Hendrick did not obey immediately. He stared into the white man's sapphire-yellow eyes.

Hendrick had not argued nor protested when Lothar had explained what they must do. It was right, it was logical.

They had always left their wounded, often with just a pistol at hand, for when the pain or the hyenas closed in. And yet, this time Hendrick felt the need to say something, but there were no words that could match the enormity of the moment. He knew he was leaving a part of his own LIFE upon this sun-blasted rock.

I will look after the boy, he said simply, and Lothar nodded.

I want to talk to Manie. He licked his dry, cracked lips and shivered briefly with the heat of the poison in his blood.

Wait for him at the bottom. It will take only a minute. Come. Hendrick jerked his head, and Klein Boy stood up beside him. Together they moved with the swiftness of hunting panthers to the cliff, and Klein Boy slipped over the edge. Hendrick paused and looked back. He raised his right hand.

Stay in peace, he said simply.

Go in peace, old friend, Lothar murmured. He had never called him friend before and Hendrick flinched at the word.

Then he turned his head so Lothar could not see his eyes, and a moment later he was gone.

Lothar stared after him for long seconds, then shook himself lightly, driving back the self-pity and the sickly sentiment and the fever mists which threatened to close in and unman him completely.

Manfred, he said, and the boy started. He had been sitting as close as he dared to his father, watching his face, hanging on every word, every gesture he made.

Pa, he whispered. I don't want to go. I don't want to leave you. I don't want to be without you., Lothar made an impatient gesture, hardening his features to hide this softness in him. You will do as I tell you. Pa, I You have never let me down before, Manie. I have been proud of you. Don't spoil it for me now. Don't let me find out that my son is a coward I'm not a coward! Then you will do what you have to do, he said harshly, and before Manfred could protest again he ordered, Bring me the haversack. Lothar placed the bag between his feet and with his good hand unbuckled the flap. He took one of the packages from it and tore open the heavy brown paper with his teeth. He spilled the stones into a small pile on the granite beside him and then spread them. He picked out ten of the biggest and whitest gems.

Take off your jacket, he ordered, and when Manfred handed the garment to him Lothar pierced a tiny hole in the lining with his clasp knife.

These stones will be worth thousands of pounds. Enough to see you full grown and educated, he said, as he stuffed them one at a time into the lining of the jacket with his forefinger.

But these others, there are too many, too heavy, too bulky to hide. Dangerous for you to carry them with you, a death warrant. He pushed himself to his feet with an effort.

Come! He led Manfred amongst the cluster of huge boulders, bracing himself against the rock to keep himself from falling while Manfred supported him from the other side.

Here! He grunted and lowered himself to his knees, Manfred squatting down beside him. At their feet the granite cap was cracked through as though split with a chisel. At the top the crack was only as wide as two hand-spans, but it was deep, they could not see the bottom of it though they peered down thirty feet or more. The crack narrowed gradually as it descended and the depths of it were lost in shadow.

Lothar dangled the haversack of diamonds over the aperture. Mark this place well, he whispered. Look back often when you go northwards so that you will remember this hill. The stones will be waiting for you when you need them. Lothar opened his fingers and the haversack dropped into the crack. They heard the canvas scraping against the sides of the granite cleft as it fell, and then silence as it jammed deep down in the narrow throat of the crack.

Side by side they peered down, and they could just make out the lighter colour and the contrasting texture of the canvas thirty feet down, but it would escape even the concentrated scrutiny of anyone who did not know exactly where to look for it.

That is my legacy to you, Manie, Lothar whispered, and crawled back from the aperture. All right, Hendrick is waiting for you. It is time for you to go. Go quickly now. He wanted to embrace his son for the last time, to kiss his eyes and his lips and press him to his heart, but he knew it would undo them both. If they clung to each other now, they could never bring themselves to part.

Go! he ordered, and Manfred sobbed and flung himself at his father.

I want to stay with you, he cried.

Lothar caught his wrist and held him at arm's length.

Do you want me to be ashamed? he snarled. Is that how you want me to remember you, snivelling like a girl? Pa, don't send me away, please. Let me stay. Lothar drew back, released his grip on Manfred's wrist and immediately whipped his open palm across his face and then swung back with his knuckles. The double slap knocked Manfred onto his haunches, leaving livid red blotches on his pale cheeks, and a tiny serpent of bright blood crawled from his nostril down over his upper lip. He stared at Lothar with shocked and incredulous eyes.

Get out of here, Lothar hissed at him, summoning all his courage and resolve to make his voice scornful and his expression savage. I won't have a blubbering little ninny hanging around my neck. Get out of here before I take the strap to you! Manfred scrambled to his feet and backed away, still staring with horrified disbelief at his father.

Go on! Get away! Lothar's expression never wavered, and his voice was angry and disdainful and unrelenting. Get out of here! Manfred turned and stumbled to the edge of the cliff.

There he turned once more and held out his hands. Pa!

Please don't, Go, damn you. Go! The boy scrambled over the edge, and the sounds of his clumsy descent dwindled into silence.

only then Lothar let his shoulders droop, and he sobbed once, then suddenly he was weeping silently, his whole body shaking.

It's the fever, he told himself. The fever has weakened me. But the image of his son's face, golden and beautiful and destroyed with grief, still filled his mind and he felt something tearing in his chest, an unbearable physical pain.