Chapter 14
railroad?” Abdar’s nails dug into the satin-padded arms of his chair. “How far along?” “Medford’s branch is near completion, but the line from the mountain was started only seven weeks ago and is in the initial stages. The girl has laid the track from the mining camp down the mountain and into the jungle, but it will—”
“How long?” Abdar snapped.
“My man in Medford’s camp says it will be at least four months before the tracks are joined.”
“Four months! And in the meantime the Scot is storing gold ore and will be ready to ship as soon as the line is completed. My gold.” He stood up and moved toward the wall where his latest mask shimmered in the candlelight, powerful, intense, a testimony to his greatness. “I need that gold.”
“There is other news.” Pachtal paused. “News that will please you. Kartauk is on Cinnidar.”
“What?” Abdar whirled to face him. “You are sure? He is not dead?”
“I saw him myself. He is not even in hiding. He lives in the palace and moves freely about the island.”
“Because he feels himself safe. He thinks I cannot take him on that cursed island.” Abdar scowled. “And he is right. I can do nothing until I am maharajah.”
“And when will that be? Has your father’s condition worsened since I left on my journey?”
He shook his head. “He may linger on until summer.”
“The Scot will be in a much better position to defend himself by that time. The island can be conquered only by an assault on the harbor, and if he has the means to fortify it, we may not—”
“I know. I know,” Abdar said impatiently. “Do you think me a dullard? He must not be allowed that time.” He turned and moved toward the statue of Kali. “How much love do you have for me?” He could sense Pachtal’s sudden tension, and his tone became wheedling. “Will you not help me in this small matter?”
“What do you wish me to do?” Pachtal asked warily.
“He is old and sick. He is going to die anyway.”
“He is the maharajah,” Pachtal said hoarsely. “You know what the punishment would be if anyone learns I did such a thing. They will burn me alive on his funeral Pyre.”
“No one would suspect anything if he died a little sooner than expected. Who would have reason to kill a dying man?”
“It is too dangerous.”
“I’m not suggesting a dagger. There are other, less obvious methods. Perhaps poison administered over the period of a week or two.” He turned to smile at Pachtal. “You have such a talent for poison. Why else were you given such a gift if not to use it?”
“I don’t know if I—”
“I need that gold to serve Kali. If you have love for me, you will do me this service.” His index finger caressed the golden dagger of the statue. “You will do Kali this service.”
“I will … think about it.”
“You have never failed me before.” He added with soft emphasis, “I have faith you will never do so.”
Abdar heard the pad of Pachtal’s departing footsteps as he hurriedly left the chamber.
He was frightened, Abdar realized. He had never known Pachtal to rebel against his will, but it might take further efforts to persuade him to do this deed. However, he had no doubt Pachtal eventually would comply with his demand.
Kali always prevailed, and had he not been appointed Kali’s guardian on this earthly plane?
“Ruel is here.” Li Sung nodded at the tent several hundred yards from the track. “He’s come to check on our progress.”
“Again?” Jane wiped her perspiring brow on her sleeve. “He’d do better to tend to his own concerns and leave us to get on with ours.”
“It’s only the fifth time he’s come since we left the mountain and started through the jungle,” Li Sung pointed out mildly. “It is to his interest to make sure his investment is flourishing.”
“Or not flourishing. Well, he’ll be disappointed. We’re ahead of schedule.”
“Why should he be disappointed that we are doing so well?”
She hadn’t meant to blurt out that thought, blast it. Her nerves were so raw, Ruel had only to appear to make her tense and defensive. Li Sung knew her too well not to pick up on any careless word, and he was already suspicious. “He loses a good deal of money if we reach Elephant Crossing on time.”
“I don’t think money is that important to Ruel.”
She suddenly exploded. “Are you mad? If you think that, then you don’t know him. Why do you think he wanted to own his own kingdom? Of course money is— what are you doing?”
His hand was on her forehead. “Hot. You have the fever again. I thought you looked unwell.”
She stepped back. “Not much.”
“Enough,” he said grimly. “How long?”
She avoided the question. “It doesn’t come every day.”
“And at night?”
She didn’t answer.
“Every night?”
“I take the quinghao and it goes away.”
“And for how long do you think you can keep it at bay with you working yourself into exhaustion?”
“Until the damned railroad’s finished.”
He shook his head doubtfully. “Ruel is a fair man. He would allow you more time if you went to him and told him you were not well.”
“No!” Good God, all she needed was to have Ruel know she was ill. He was waiting for a weakness in her defenses. “I’ll be fine. You’re not to tell him. You’re not to tell anyone.” She started for the tent. “Ask Dilam to check that last quarter-mile track I started to measure.”
“No need, I will do it.”
She should have known Li Sung would insist on taking over the task and he had already used his leg too much today. “This shouldn’t take long. I may be able to do it myself.”
His jaw set. “I will do it.”
After almost two months of working day and night, she was too bone-weary to argue with him. “Suit yourself.”
Ruel glanced up from the survey map he was studying as she came into the tent. “You’re making very good time.” His finger tapped a circled area on the map on the table. “Four miles from Elephant Crossing.”
“We should reach it by day after tomorrow. We’re averaging over two miles a day. We’d be doing even better than that if we didn’t have to do some additional clearing on each side of the road.”
“But you’ve chosen to angle around the crossing.”
“Another three days.” She moved toward the table and tapped a spot on the map. “Here. We’ll have passed the crossing two days before the deadline specified by the contract.”
“Perhaps.” He smiled. “And perhaps not. Cinnidar has been land to you so far, but you mustn’t count on your good luck lasting.”
“It will last.”
“No trouble with the elephants?”
“We haven’t seen one elephant since we started through the jungle. Dilam doesn’t expect any trouble. She says elephants are creatures of habit and by circumventing the crossing we’ll avoid a direct confrontation.”
“They’re closer than they were three months ago when we passed here. I heard them as I rode into camp.”
“We always hear them. It doesn’t mean anything. According to Dilam, they’re constantly talking to each other.”
“I was watching Li Sung and Dilam working together as I came into the encampment. They seem to be getting along much better. No problems there?”
“Li Sung has no problems with Dilam as long as she—”
“Doesn’t try nesling with him?” Ruel’s brow arched inquiringly. “I take it she’s given up her aim in that direction?”
She shrugged. “Who knows? She doesn’t talk about it, and Li Sung realizes how important this railroad is to both of us. We’ve all been too busy to worry about anything but getting the work done.” She stared directly into his eyes. “Which is what I have to do now.”
“You always run away when I come to see you.”
“I have work to do. I have no time to talk.”
“I also have work to do, but I make time for you.” His voice was almost caressing, but the words held a subtle menace. “I’ll always make time for you, Jane.”
Always. The foreboding word sent a smothering sense of relentless inevitability through her. He would never give up, never leave her until he was satisfied she had suffered enough. God, she was weary of it all. “Are we through here? I have to get back to work.”
“Aye, I’ve found out what I needed to know.” He turned away. “I’m going to the refinery in the village and then pay a visit to the palace to see how Ian is faring. I’ll be back in five days.”
“Don’t bother. I won’t have time to give you a report. In five days we’ll be past the crossing and forging toward the canyon wall.”
“Oh, it’s no bother.” He smiled over his shoulder. “Do you know, part of me actually wants you to meet that deadline. You’ve done a fine job and I admire good work.”
She stared at him, too surprised to speak. Why could he not remain hard and mocking all the time? Just when she had her defenses raised against him he would change, soften, remind her of that other Ruel she had known in Kasanpore. She could feel her defiance draining away as she looked at him. Leave, she prayed silently, go away. He was like her sickness, the fever draining her of strength.
“Since I’m clearly dismissed, I’ll do as you so kindly suggest.” He turned away. “Good-bye, Jane. Five days.”
She stared blindly down at the map after he left. Five days. There was no reason to be nervous. She had fought this fever before and won. The work was going extraordinarily well. The Cinnidans labored quickly and cheerfully and they had not encountered any insurmountable obstacles. What could possibly happen to hinder her from reaching her goal on time?
···
Ian leaned back on his pillows, his breath coming in little pants, an expression of unutterable pleasure on his face. “Margaret …”
She moved off him and nestled close, her fair hair splaying over his naked shoulder. “I’m surprised you can still speak. I must have not performed well.”
“Wonderful … You’re always wonderful.” His hand gently stroked her hair. “Did I give you pleasure?”
“Yes.” As usual, the lie stuck in her throat, but Kartauk had told her it was important a man be made to feel powerful and dominant after the act. She kissed his shoulder. “You always please me.”
“I don’t know how. I lie here like a lump while you do—”
“Haven’t you noticed? I’m a very willful woman. I enjoy guiding the course.” She raised herself on one elbow to smile teasingly down at him. “Who knows? Considering my nature, you might not have been able to give me half this pleasure if I were forced to only submit meekly.”
“You meek?” His finger traced her lips. “Never.”
“I certainly hope not.” She resumed her former place beside him. “Again?”
He laughed in delight. “Do you think me such a stallion?”
“Of course. Why do you think I made you wed me? I suspected the son of the laird would have the same lustful vigor as his father.” She nestled her cheek against his arm. “But I suppose I must let you rest awhile.” She could already detect the lethargy signaling exhaustion and knew he’d be asleep in a few minutes. “You’re much stronger since you came here. Cinnidar has been good for you.”
“Has it?” he asked wistfully. “Then perhaps I can go home soon.”
“Not yet.” He was not really better. His cough was almost gone, but he was still losing weight and she had the panicky feeling he was drifting away from her.
“Soon? Glenclaren needs me.”
“I read you the letter from the vicar. Everything is going splendidly.”
She felt the sigh that rippled through his body and knew at once she had said the wrong thing. It was so difficult to strike the balance, she thought in frustration.
“You’re right, I’m lying to myself. I’m not needed. Not by you and certainly not by Glenclaren.”
“Don’t talk foolishness,” she said. “We both need you. We’ll always need you.”
He shook his head.
She could feel the tears sting her eyes, but she must not let them fall. He did not need weakness but strength from her. But, dear heaven, she was weary of fighting this battle. “Do you doubt I love you?”
“No, but love is not need. I give you only pain. If I weren’t here, you’d find a strong, whole man who could give you joy … and children.”
Children. It always came back to that. She made her tone light. “Who knows? You may have given me a babe tonight.” He didn’t answer and she felt a spurt of panic Always before she had been able to inject a tiny hope, but even that was fading in him. “It could have happened,” she said desperately. What difference did another lie make if it kept him with her? “You’re stronger now and you’ve been—”
“Shh …” His lips brushed her temple. “My dear love, my bonnie love. I’m so tired. Won’t you let me go?”
Her hand tightened on his arm. Did hearts truly break? She had always thought the. Phrase foolish, but she felt something breaking, rending inside. “I cannot.”
“I believe I would be happier. You want me to be happy.”
“So much,” she whispered. “You know …” She couldn’t go on.
“Are you weeping, Margaret? You see, I do hurt you even when I don’t mean to.”
“I’m not weeping.”
“Because you won’t let yourself. You will not let me see you weep.”
“Why should I wail? I have the man I have loved all my life, who brings me pleasure and who—”
“You never give up, do you? Sweet Margaret …”
She was not sweet. Sometimes she thought Ian had no idea of her true nature. At the moment she wanted to scream and kick and shake her fist at the fates that had done this to him. “You mustn’t give up either. I need you.”
“I dream about it every night now. Do you remember when as children on fine days we would go and sit on the hill among the heather?”
“Aye.”
“I think it will be like that, peaceful and full of light and happiness.” Ian brushed her hair back from her face. “It’s waiting for me.”
“Then let it wait another fifty years,” she said fiercely. “We will fool it. You will grow stronger every single day and there will be a child for Glenclaren and we will—” He was shaking his head. “It will happen. I’ll make it happen.” She buried her face on his chest, the fear and desperation mounting within her.
“Why, you’re trembling, Margaret.” His breath feathered the top of her head. “You mustn’t upset yourself. All is well. Go to sleep, love.”
How could she sleep? He had said all was well, but he had not promised to fight to stay with her and he was wandering farther down that other path with every passing day.
He drifted off to sleep a few minutes later, but she lay staring into the darkness, rigid with fear, holding him.
“You must stop work at once.” Margaret swept into Kartauk’s workroom and shut the door. “I have to talk to you.”
“Oh, must I?” Kartauk asked as he wiped his hands on a towel. “Since you’ve not deigned to visit me since we’ve arrived in Cinnidar, I assume it is on a subject of no mean importance.”
“Of course it is. I don’t waste time on trivial matters.” She smoothed the skirt of her gown and sat down on a cushioned fan chair. She glanced around at the gleaming white mosaic floor and walls and multitude of windows whose latticed shutters were thrown wide to let in the sunlight. The furniture was simple but finely crafted, the chamber completely unlike his room at the stable, which she had gradually come to think of as a haven. She forced a smile. “This room is really quite pleasant. I was afraid you’d make a shambles of it as you did your workroom at Glenclaren.”
“I’ve been here only two months. It takes even me an extended period of time to create such glorious disarray.”
“Where is your furnace?”
Kartauk nodded to the french doors leading to the veranda. “Ruel had a special cottage built away from the main house. He said he wasn’t going to risk me tearing down any of his walls or burning up his palace.”
“Very sensible.” She straightened the lace on her sleeve. “I suppose you’re enjoying dabbling with your precious gold. It seems a hedonistic extravagance when one considers—”
“Why are you here, madam?”
She frowned. “I was getting to it.”
“Not with any great speed. I need to finish this frieze before nightfall.”
“It’s early morning.”
“Exactly. Is it Ian?”
“Partly.”
“I take it he has not taken a turn for the worse, or you would not be here. Are you satisfied with Tamar’s care of him?”
“Tamar? The man is a paragon. Ian has only to lift an eyebrow and Tamar rushes to obey. Jock has nothing to do anymore.” She noticed the dog lying slumbering at Kartauk’s feet. “What is Sam doing here? I thought he was in the stable.”
“Jane asked me to keep him. She has no faith in his intelligence. She was afraid he would start chasing a squirrel and fall off into the canyon.”
“A distinct possibility.” She smoothed the hair at her temple. “Are you not going to have the courtesy to ask me to have a cup of that foul liquid you call coffee?”
“No, your hand is trembling so much you would probably drop the cup.”
“Nonsense.” She quickly clasped her hands together in her lap. “What sort of frieze? Are you going to—”
“You did not come here to discuss my ‘dabbles,’” Kartauk interrupted. “Has Ian had a setback?”
“No, he is the same.” She looked down at her hands. “But he is—” She stopped and then started again. “I’m going to have a child.”
He went still. “You told me the physician said that was not possible for Ian.”
“He did.” She could feel the heat in her cheeks and knew those annoyingly keen eyes would notice her discomposure as he noticed everything about her. “But it must happen. You must make it happen.”
He swore beneath his breath and then said caustically, “And how am I to do that? It is one thing to instruct you on the art of arousing and satisfying a man, but I have no magic incantation I can mumble to make Ian able to impregnate you. Am I supposed to—”
“Be silent,” she snapped. “There’s no reason for you to be testy. If you will listen, instead of ranting at me, I will tell you what I need of you.”
He sat down on his stool and looked at her. “By all means, proceed.”
“Ian is … I cannot …” She drew a deep breath. “If I do not give Ian a reason to live, he will die. He needs a child.”
Kartauk made no comment, waiting.
“Since God has not seen fit to grant us this boon, I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands.” She looked straight ahead and asked quickly, “Will you mate with me, Kartauk?”
He went still. “What?”
She rushed on. “Only until the babe is conceived. After that, I will not trouble you further.”
Silence. Why did he not speak? Though she was not looking at him, she could feel waves of emotion sweeping from him.
He said slowly, each word enunciated precisely, “You are saying I’m to father an infant which you will then pass off as your husband’s?”
She nodded jerkily.
“And may I ask why you have chosen me to act as stud to your mare?”
“Don’t be crude.” She moistened her lips. “You seem to be the reasonable choice. I believe you have a fondness for Ian. You’re strong in body and mind and capable of fathering a fine bairn.”
“Anything else?”
“It should be no hardship for you. You can’t deny you have a lustful nature. Ellen MacTavish and those other women were—”
“Look at me.”
“If it wasn’t necessary, I wouldn’t do this. A child is nec—”
“Look at me, madam.”
She reluctantly shifted her gaze to his face. Anger. She had never seen Kartauk in a rage before, but she saw it now.
“You will not use me, madam.”
“It’s not such a terrible … It has to be you. I thought of Ruel, but I—”
“Ruel!”
“He, too, has a lustful nature and he might do it to save Ian, but I could not place that burden on him.”
“What burden?”
“Adultery,” she whispered. “It’s a terrible sin and one I don’t expect God to forgive. It is better I suffer his anger alone.”
His lips twisted. “And you think me too much of a heathen for God to notice my transgressions?”
“It would be an act of mercy on your part. God would surely understand you’re not at fault.”
“Dear God, now bedding you is an act of mercy! You’re a mad woman.”
“When I first realized I might have to do this, I thought perhaps I was mad.” She had to stop to steady her voice. “But I’ve pondered long and hard and there’s no other solution. This must be done. Do you think asking you was easy?”
“I’ve not noticed you asking me. You’ve only told me what I must do.”
“I did not mean to be rude. It is my way to be blunt.”
Abruptly his anger vanished and his expression softened. “I know. Blunt, sharp-tongued, and giving. Well, you cannot give Ian his child.” He raised his hand to stop her as she opened her lips to protest. “I won’t do it, madam.”
“Why? Ian will be destroyed if I don’t do this.”
“And you’ll be destroyed if you do. I know you well. You try to bend that straight moral backbone and you’ll shatter.” He moved toward her. “I’ll have no part of it. I have never had a taste for destruction. I ran away from Abdar to avoid it, and I will not help you embrace it.”
“I’ve made my decision, Kartauk.”
“Which requires my cooperation.” He looked down at her. “No, madam, you’ll get no child from me.”
He was close enough to her so she could smell the scent of soap, coffee, and clay that clung to him and see the pulse pounding in his strong brown throat and the distended veins in his muscular forearms. She had a sudden sensation of unfamiliarity. She was acutely conscious of his bigness, the wideness of his shoulders, the massive strength of his calves and thighs in the loose trousers, the craggy strength of his features. She felt a sudden flutter of apprehension before she firmly dismissed it as imagination. This was the Kartauk she had known for three years. Her uneasiness must be derived from the prospect of the intimacy she had proposed. “There is another reason I chose you,” she said haltingly. “I regard you as my friend. I have had very few friends in my life. I hope I’m not mistaken.”
“Mother of God!” His hands hovered over her shoulders as if he’d like to shake her.
“You appear to have an uncommon understanding of me.” She blinked rapidly to rid her eyes of tears. “This will be a most difficult undertaking, and it would comfort me to have you with me in this.”
His hands clenched and then dropped to his sides. “Go away, madam.”
“We haven’t finished our discussion. I can’t leave until we come to an agreement.”
“We are not going to come to an agreement.”
“It is necessary we do so. I realize what I propose is neither virtuous nor Christian, but somehow I believe it’s right. If there is a child, Ian will live. Can it be so wicked to save a life?”
“Leave me.”
“I have no fondness for the act, but Ian seems to think I perform it well. I’ll do everything you’ve instructed me to do and it should not be too unpleasant for you.”
He jerked her to her feet and propelled her toward the door.
“I know I’m not bonnie like Ellen MacTavish, but I will endeavor to—”
“My dear madam.” He opened the door and pushed her out into the hall. “You’re not at all bonnie and as far from the likes of Ellen MacTavish as Cinnidar is from Scotland.”
She felt a queer pang even as she drew herself up and stared determinedly at him. “Bonnie or not, it won’t hurt you to accommodate me until I’m with child. I shall not insist on any immediate consummation. I, too, must become accustomed to the idea of—” She hesitated.
“Fornicating.”
“Conceiving. I’m sure we will both be more comfortable if we make an effort to more fully understand each other. You might make a start by calling me Margaret.” She turned and walked down the hall. “I’ll pay you another visit tomorrow. Good day, Kartauk.”
“Good-bye, madam. Don’t return.” The door slammed behind her.
Kartauk stared at her coldly. “I told you not to come back. I have no time for your nonsense.”
“I will be no bother.” Margaret closed the door and moved toward him. “I understand that you have no interest in anything but your work and I’ve thought of a way to accomplish both our aims.”
“I can hardly wait to hear what it is.”
“I shall help you.” She rolled up the sleeves of her gown. “This is the time of morning Jock gives Ian his bath and after that he takes a nap, so I have three hours free. I will come here every day and aid you in fashioning your dabbles.”
He gazed blankly at her. “You’re offering yourself as my apprentice?”
“If that is what it’s called. We will also talk and become better accustomed to each other’s ways. Now, what do I do first?”
“Leave.”
“Why do you wear that leather apron? Should I have one on also?”
“I require no apprentice.”
“Of course you do. I’m sure every craftsman has an acolyte to do menial tasks. I will sweep and—” She paused, uncertain, before adding vaguely, “Hold things.”
“I could have one of Ruel’s servants do that.”
“But you wouldn’t trust them in the same room with one of your precious models,” she said triumphantly. “You know I’m not clumsy and would take care not to damage any of your dabbles.”
“Madam, I do not …” He tried a new direction. “Your plan is without purpose. You have visited me many times during the past three years. I’m sure we have no more to learn about each other.”
“You believe you know me, but I have a great deal to learn about you. I was the one who always talked. You asked questions and I answered.”
“Sometimes with much reluctance.”
“It is not my nature to confide in all and sundry. It was difficult for me to—but you know that.” She added wistfully, “You have been very kind to me in the past. Why can’t you be kind to me now?”
“I am being kind to you. More than you know.” He gazed at her a long moment. “You’re a very obstinate woman. You’re not going to give up on this, are you?”
“Certainly not.”
He threw up his hands. “Oh, very well.”
Her eyes widened. “You mean you’ll—”
“Not that, dammit,” he said quickly. “I mean I’ll take you to apprentice. If I do not keep you busy, you’ll only sit and stare and plague me with chatter.”
“I do not chatter.” She had not realized he had regarded her confidences as chatter and the knowledge gave her a hurtful pang. She said stiltedly, “Though I can see how you would think me verbose. I should not have afflicted my ramblings on you. Please forgive me.”
“You did not force them on me, I took them,” he said curtly. “And, by God, you needed me to take them. I was your priest in the confessional. I gave you haven and absolution. Have you considered if I did what you asked of me that I would no longer fulfill that need? Your haven would be gone.”
She felt a surge of loneliness at the thought. “Ian’s need is greater than mine.”
“You’re a foolish woman. You gave years of service to a selfish father only because he seeded the woman who bore you and now you wish to sacrifice yourself for Ian.” He paused and then added deliberately, “And all because you feel guilt that you do not love them enough.”
She gazed at him, shocked. “I did love them.”
He shook his head. “Love must be nurtured and your father gave you nothing in return.”
She could not deny that truth. “But Ian is—”
“You loved Ian as a playmate and a friend. In time it might have changed, but because of the accident he also became your child. That’s what he is now, a beloved child who must be protected.”
“You lie,” she said fiercely. “He is my husband and I love him with my whole heart.”
“Not with your whole heart, that’s why guilt is making you willing to destroy yourself to make amends to him.”
“It’s not true,” she whispered. “You should not say such things.”
“Why not?” He smiled recklessly. “I’ve always known however honest you are with others you’ve never been honest with yourself.”
“Then why did you not state your views before?”
“You’re a rare and splendid woman, and I had no desire to hurt you.” He met her gaze directly. “But, if you continue on this course you’ve set, I will never let you hide again. Build a wall and I’ll tear it down. Tell me a half-truth and I’ll probe and rip until the entire truth is laid bare. No more comfort. No more haven.”
She had never felt more vulnerable or frightened. She smiled with great effort. “Life should be faced head-on. I’m a woman grown and need no havens. You’re wrong about me, Kartauk.”
“And you’re willing to risk learning I’m right?”
“Since it’s not true, there is no risk.” She took a step closer to the table and looked down at the frieze. “Now tell me what the markings on this dabble are supposed to represent.”
He did not immediately answer, and she looked up to see him watching her, smiling faintly. “You will no longer refer to my work as ‘dabbles,’ madam.”
“Margaret,” she corrected him. “And I will speak my mind as I see fit.”
“No, from this day forward you will speak only the truth. You have a great appreciation for my work, for all beauty. Perhaps a greater appreciation than anyone I have ever known.”
“Why do you say that?” she asked warily.
“I have seen you look at a sunset.” He added softly, “And I have seen you look at my ‘dabbles.’”
She felt a tiny flicker of alarm. She had realized how insightful he could be, but he had never indicated he had seen this deeply. “Why should I pretend not to admire something when I do?”
“Perhaps because beauty can hurt as well as please. Perhaps because you consider such a love of beauty a softness that would get in the way of your revered duty.”
“That is not—” She stopped, feeling more helpless and unsure than she had since she was a small child.
“No haven, madam.” He added softly, “And no mercy.”
“I have asked for neither.” She glanced away from him. “You did not answer me. Will I need one of those leather aprons you wear?”
“By all means.” His smile contained an element of sadness as he reached in the cabinet beneath his table, drew out an apron, and handed it to her. “We must not have you soiling yourself. You clearly have an impulsive nature that leads to such disasters.”
Screams … thunder …
Jarred from sleep, Jane jerked upright on her cot.
The scream came again and was followed immediately by the thunder.
“Come!” Li Sung burst into her tent. “Hurry. The tracks.”
Li Sung, who was never armed, was carrying a rifle. She threw the covers aside and quickly thrust her feet into her boots. “What’s happening? What is it?”
“Elephant.”
The scream came again, wild, angry, demonic. “That couldn’t be an elephant. It doesn’t sound like anything we’ve heard before.” She jumped to her feet and ran toward the tent opening.
“Dilam says it’s a rogue.”
She caught sight of Dilam running down the rows of sleeping workers, torch in hand, rousing them. “Forget that,” she called. “Come with us. We may need you.”
Dilam nodded, and the next moment she was beside her. They ran down the tracks in the direction from which the screaming was coming with Li Sung limping as quickly as he could behind. “What the devil is a rogue?” she asked tersely.
“An elephant that has been cast out from the herd,” Dilam said. “Sometimes he goes mad with loneliness. Very dangerous.”
The scream came again. Closer.
Then a grinding metallic noise frightened her more than the enraged trumpeting. “Dammit, he’s tearing up my tracks!”
They rounded a corner and Jane caught her first sight of the elephant.
He was a huge gray-brown monster with one tattered ear. He stood with a section of a rail in his trunk, and as she watched he hurled it away from him as if it were a toothpick and reached for another. “Stop him!”
The elephant’s head lifted and he glared at them with small bloodshot eyes. He trumpeted with rage and whirled to face them.
Jane could feel the blood stop in her veins. He was like a demonic creature from the nightmare depths of hell.
Li Sung muttered a curse as he moved to the side of the track and lifted the rifle.
“No!” Dilam shouted. She reached out and knocked down the barrel of the rifle. “It’s Danor.”
Li Sung said, “I don’t care what—”
The elephant charged toward Li Sung, deadly tusks lowered.
Dilam dove out of the way. Jane pushed Li Sung to the side with such force, they both fell to the ground and rolled out of the way just as the rogue reached them.
The elephant thundered past them.
Dilam grabbed the rifle from the ground where Li Sung had dropped it. “Stay down.”
“And let him step on me with those monstrous feet?” Li Sung asked. “I think not. Give me the rifle.”
Dilam ignored him, lifted the rifle, and fired over the elephant’s head.
The elephant stopped, his trunk weaving back and forth.
Dilam fired two more shots.
“What are you doing?” Jane asked impatiently. “Warning shots won’t help. An elephant can’t know a bullet will hurt him. You’ll have to shoot him.”
“No!” Dilam fired three more shots over the elephant’s head.
The elephant shifted from foot to foot and lifted his trunk again. Then, abruptly, he turned and lumbered off into the jungle.
Jane let her breath out in a little rush, trying to steady her heartbeat. “Will he come back?”
“Not tonight,” Dilam said. She handed the rifle back to Li Sung and bowed politely. “I regret being so rude as to take your weapon, but it was Danor. I could not let you hurt him. He is a very special elephant.”
“You said he was a rogue.”
Dilam’s jaw set stubbornly. “I did not know it was Danor. It is possible he has not gone rogue and, even if he has, he is still very special. I cannot let you kill him,”
“He almost killed us,” Jane said.
“Me,” Li Sung corrected her grimly as he rose to his feet. “He charged me. He evidently thought this lowly cripple was the weakest link. I have a desire to show him his error. I’m going after him.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Li Sung. The elephant is just plain crazy. How could he know you were crippled? We don’t have time right now to go after him,” Jane said curtly as she turned to examine the tracks. “And Lord knows what he did to the—my God!”
She gazed with horror at the devastation before her. Rails were uprooted, ties broken as far as she could see. She grabbed the torch from Dilam and began to walk down the track. She was scarcely aware of Dilam and Li Sung following her as she encountered disaster after disaster.
Chaos everywhere.
“Very bad,” Dilam murmured after they had traveled for some distance along the track.
It was worse than bad, Jane thought grimly. Over two miles of damage to be repaired and that meant losing a full day.
“It can’t happen again,” she said. “I don’t care how special your elephant is. I won’t lose any more time cleaning up after him.”
Dilam offered tentatively, “Perhaps he’ll decide not to do it again.”
“Decide? How does a rogue elephant decide anything? You said yourself he was insane.”
“That was before I knew it was Danor. Danor has superior understanding.”
“He damn well understands how to destroy my railroad.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “How did one elephant manage to do this much damage so quickly? We didn’t even hear him until fifteen minutes ago.”
“Because he didn’t want us to hear him.” “What do you mean?”
“He started trumpeting only the last quarter-mile or we would not have heard him. He must have had some reason for wishing to attract our attention.”
Jane gazed at her in astonishment. “You’re saying he planned this?”
“I do not know, but he is not as other elephants.”
“I don’t care if he’s not like other elephants. I want to know if this will happen again.”
She hesitated, troubled. “It is possible. He obviously did not like being interrupted.”
Jane had a fleeting memory of deadly tusks lowered to charge. “I noticed that.”
“But I will put guards on the track tomorrow night,” Dilam assured her.
“You can’t put guards along the entire line,” Li Sung said. “It is best we hunt him down and shoot him.”
Dilam’s expression became shuttered. “I will not help you do this.”
“Did you see what he did? Those tracks are—” Jane stopped, trying to control her temper. “I wouldn’t kill any animal needlessly, but this elephant is vicious. Why won’t you help us?”
“He saved the life of my child. It would be dishonor if I destroyed his savior.”
“Then find someone else to lead us to him.”
“I cannot do that,” Dilam said stubbornly. “It would be the same thing. I will place guards on the track.”
“I could try to find him by myself,” Li Sung offered.
“You’d get lost,” Jane said curtly. “You don’t know anything about jungles.”
“And less about elephants,” Li Sung conceded. “But I know I don’t like this one, and even I could hit a target that size.”
“If you shoot him in the right spot. I’m not even sure a bullet would pierce that skin. It’s too dangerous. He almost killed you tonight.”
“I told you he did not like me.” His lips tightened. “I assure you the aversion is mutual. I will go after him.”
She shook her head.
Li Sung gave her a cold glance. “You think the task too much for a cripple?”
“I didn’t say … Li Sung, don’t do this to me right now.” She turned to Dilam. “This must not happen again. I want those guards armed. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
But she hadn’t promised she would tell the guards to shoot the elephant, Jane thought in frustration. She turned on her heel and headed back toward the camp.
Li Sung walked beside her. “You are worried about the deadline?”
“Of course I’m worried.”
“We still have one day’s grace.”
“If that blasted elephant doesn’t do any more damage.”
“If he does, I will go after him.”
He meant it. For some idiotic reason Li Sung was taking this elephant attack on an intensely personal level. Now she would not only have to worry about meeting the deadline but about Li Sung storming around in the jungle, trying to find that rogue. She suppressed a sudden surge of panic and desperation. She still had two days. She would just have to work harder to make sure two days was enough to repair the damage and clear the crossing.
And pray that demented elephant didn’t take it into his head to wreck any more of her track.