A Falcon Flies Part 38

They both knew what he was referring to, the day they would meet again in the court-martial chamber. Thank you, Mr. Denham, Clinton replied, then he went forward to where the senior Captain waited. Captain Codrington, it is my duty to inform you that you have been called upon by the Officer Commanding the Squadron to answer certain charges concerning the conduct of your duties. Therefore, you are to consider yourself under open arrest and to hold yourself in readiness to answer those charges as soon as a court martial can be convened. "I understand, sir."

Clinton saluted him, and then preceded him through the entry port and down the ladder into the waiting boat.

A single voice called out, "Give "em. h.e.l.l, Tongs."

And suddenly they were all cheering. Black joke's crew lined her side and hung in her rigging and they cheered as though their throats would crack.

Hammer and Tongs! " They tossed their caps on high. At "em the jokers! " As the boat pulled away and rowed for the beach, Clinton Codrington stood in the stern and stared back at them without expression, and his bare head shone like a beacon fire in the sunlight.

That had been so many weeks ago. Still the opportunity of a.s.sembling enough senior officers in a small station like the Cape Colony to act as his judges might not occur for weeks still or even months.

Clinton had spent his nights in the cheap lodgings on Waterkant Street. Ostracized by his brother officers, he had spent most of his days alone upon the waterfront staring out at the little gunboat that was making her repairs at the anchorage, and at the bare-masted clipper.

He had watched while the slaves were brought ash.o.r.e from Huron's holds, and their chains were struck off by a blacksmith from the castle. He had seen the bewildered blacks put their marks upon the indenture contracts, and then be led away by the Dutch and Huguenot farmers to learn their new duties, and he had wondered at this other fate to which he had delivered them.

Then in the afternoons he had climbed the hill to the Cartwright mansion set in its green and pleasant garden to pay his court to Robyn Ballantyne.

This day he was early, the noonday gun banged from the top of Signal Hill as Clinton came striding up the pathway, almost breaking into a run when he saw Robyn in the rose garden. He left the pathway and cut across the velvety green carpet of the lawn. Robyn! Doctor Ballantyne! " His voice was strange, and his pale eyes wild. What is it? " Robyn handed the basket to Aletta and hurried across the lawn to meet him. What is it? " she repeated with concern, and he seized both her hands in his. The slaver! he was stuttering with the force of his emotion, "The American, HuronPYes? " she demanded. "Yes? "She is sailing, they are letting her go!

It was a cry of outrage and despair, and Robyn froze, her face suddenly pale. I do not believe it. "Come! said Clinton.

"I have a carriage at the gate."

The coachman whipped the horses at the slope, with Clinton shouting to him to hurry still, and they came out on the crest of Signal Hill in a lather, with froth splattered on their chests and forelegs.

The moment the coach braked, Clinton jumped down and led Robyn to the side of the roadway facing down the steep hillside out over the bay. The tall American clipper slid silently and gracefully over a green sea that was speckled by the dancing white caps of the southeasterly wind.

As she cleared the low dark shape of Robben Island, she altered her heading a fraction and more sail bloomed upon her yards, white as the first flowers of spring. Silently, the man and the woman stared after the beautiful ship, and neither of them spoke as she merged with the milky sea fret, became a ghostly silhouette, and then quite suddenly was gone.

Still in silence the couple turned back and climbed into the waiting carriage, and neither of them spoke until it drew up before the gates of the Cartwright estate.

Clinton looked at her face. It was completely bloodless, even her lips were ivory white and quivering with suppressed emotion.

I know how you feel. After all we endured, to see that monster sail away. I share your distress, " he said quietly, but she shook her head once vehemently and then was still again. I have other news, he told her when at last he judged she had recovered, and a little colour had returned to her cheeks. There is a Rear-Admiral on the pa.s.senger list of the East Indiaman that anch.o.r.ed in the bay yesterday. Slogger Kemp has asked him to make up the numbers at the court-martial. It begins tomorrow."

Immediately she turned to face him, her expression softening with concern and alarm. Oh, I will pray for you every moment. " She reached out her hand impulsively, and he seized it with both of his, and clung to it.

It was as though the contact had loosened something in her that she had locked away tightly and at last the tears welled up in her hot dry eyes.

Oh my dear Doctor Ballantyne, Clinton whispered. Please do not fret for me. " But through the tears Robyn was still seeing the ghostly image of a tall and beautiful ship fading away into the pearly curtain of sea fret, and the first sob shook her body.

The floor of the ballroom of Admiralty House was laid out in chessboard squares of black and white marble, and the human characters like chess pieces were ranged upon it haphazard, as though by the vagaries of a hard-fought end-game.

Robyn Ballantyne in skirt and blouse of sober green stood by the head of the board, a solitary queen, while arranged opposite her were the rooks of the legal council: two naval officers in full uniform and sword who were playing the roles of prosecutor and defender. They had been chosen arbitrarily, and neither of them relished the unfamiliar task.

They had isolated themselves from the rest of the company, and each of them busied himself with the sheaf of doc.u.ments he carried, not looking at the man who they were destined to save or condemn, depending on the deliberations of the senior officers who were even now closeted behind the tall double doors at the far end of the ballroom.

The other witnesses, Denham of Black Joke bearing the ship's log under his arm, MacDonald the engineer hiding his grey coal-stained hands behind his back, the colony's agent and Honorary Consul for the Sheikh of Omani, a prosperous Asian trader, were like the scattered p.a.w.ns of the game around the edge of the board.

Only the officer accused and on trial for his life was not at rest. Captain Clinton Codrington paced at random about the ballroom floor, his heels clicking on the marble slabs, his c.o.c.ked hat clasped under one arm, his pale blue eyes staring dead ahead. He paced without pattern like the roving knight of the chess board.

The tension seemed to charge even this huge room, increasing rather than lessening with every minute. Only the two red-coated marines on each side of the double doors seemed totally unaffected.

They stood stolidly, their musket b.u.t.ts grounded beside the polished toe caps of their right boots, their expressions blank and their eyes fixed directly ahead.

Once Clinton stopped in front of Robyn and drew his watch.

Fifty minutes, he said.

It could be hours yet, she answered quietly. I can never thank you for the evidence you gave. "It was nothing but the truth. Yes, he agreed.

"But without it-" He broke off, and resumed his restless pacing.

The prosecuting officer who had attempted for the two previous days to d.a.m.n him and send him to the gallows, glanced up at Clinton, and then hurriedly, almost guiltily, returned his eyes to the doc.u.ments he held in his right hand. Robyn was the only one who watched him openly, and her eyes were dark with worry and concern, yet when he caught her eye again a few minutes later, she smiled at him bravely, trying to hide her doubts.

The four senior officers, before whom she had given her evidence, had listened attentively, but she had seen no warmth nor compa.s.sion in their faces. Madam, " Admiral Kemp had asked her at the end, "is it true that you obtained a medical degree by impersonating a man, and if your answer is "Yes', would you not then believe us justified in doubting your allegiance to the truth?

Robyn had seen the faces of the senior officers flanking Kemp harden, their eyes become remote. The Sultan's agent had been blatantly hostile, as the prosecuting officer had led him dutifully through a long list of aggressions and warlike acts against his master's sovereign territory and against his subjects.

Denham and MacDonald could only recite the facts, and their own repudiation of their Captain's orders was recorded in the ship's logbook.

The only thing that surprised Robyn was that the court had deliberated so long, and then she started involuntarily as, with a crash that echoed around the walls of the empty ballroom, the double doors were thrown open, and the two marine guards stamped to attention.

Through the doors she could see the naval officers seated down the length of the long dining-room table facing the ballroom. Their fragging and epaulettes gleamed with gold lace and Robyn was too far to be certain of their expressions. Though she took a step forward and craned to see the polished top of the table in front of the grim line of judges, she could not be certain of the hilt and point of the single weapon that lay upon it, and then her view was blocked by the backs of the three men who lined up facing the doors.

Clinton was in the centre with the prosecution and the defending officers flanking him. At a muttered command, they marched briskly through the open doors. The doors closed behind the trio, and still Robyn could not know which way the naval dirk on the table was pointing, whether it was in its sheath or if the blade was naked.

Clinton had explained to her the significance of that weapon. it was only placed upon the table when the judges had reached their decision. If the blade was sheathed, and if the hilt was pointed towards the prisoner when he entered, then the judgement was "not guilty, .

When the bare blade was pointed towards him, then he knew that the wrath of the service was about to descend upon him, and he might be called to pay his penalty upon the flogging grating, or upon the gallows itself.

Clinton kept his gaze fixed upon a point above Admiral Kemp's head, while the doors were banged closed behind him, and he and the officers flanking him came to attention five paces from the long polished table behind which sat his judges.

Only then did he allow himself to glance down at the dagger upon the table top. The bare blade glinted a bluish-silver in the late sunlight that slanted in from the tall french windows, and the bright point was aimed at Clinton's stomach.

He felt the cold drive of despair in his guts, as though the dagger had been plunged through them. The shock of the injustice of the verdict, the disbelief that his whole life had been brought down at a single stroke, the shame and disgrace of a career shattered and a reputation indelibly besmirched, left him numbed and blind to all but the wicked blade before him, and deaf to all but the voice of Admiral Kemp. Guilty of flagrant disregard of the orders of his superior officer. "Guilty of acts of piracy upon the high seas.

"Guilty of destroying the property of the subjects of a friendly power. "Guilty of flouting the terms of a treaty between her Britannic Majesty's Government and the Sultan of the Omani Arabs."

it must he death, Clinton realized, the verdict was too detailed, the list of his transgressions too long and his guilt too serious. It must be death by the noose.

He lifted his eyes from the accusing weapon, and he stared out of the french windows beyond his judges. The high stock of his uniform collar felt as tight as the hangman's noose as he tried to swallow.

I have never feared death, Lord, he prayed silently. There is only one thing I will regret, that I must leave the woman that I love."

To be deprived of honour, and of life was sufficient punishment, but to lose his love as well was the final injustice. The Court has deliberated at length on the sentence, Admiral Kemp paused and shot a sideways glance at a lean, tanned and silver-haired Rear-Admiral beside him, the pa.s.senger from the visiting East Indiaman, "and has heard and been swayed by the eloquent arguments of Admiral Reginald Curry."

He paused again and puffed out his lips, indicating clearly that he did not agree with those eloquent arguments, before going on. The sentence of this Court is that the prisoner be stripped of all rank, privileges and pay and that the Queen's Commission which he holds shall be withdrawn, and that he be dishonourably discharged from the naval service."

Clinton steeled himself, the stripping of rank and discharge would precede the main body of the sentence.

Furthermore, Kemp paused and cleared his throat. Furthermore it is the sentence of the Court that the prisoner be taken from here to the castle and that he be there -The castle was the place of execution, the gallows would be erected on the parade ground before the main gates. That he be there imprisoned for a period of one year."

The judges were standing up, were filing out of the room. As the lean silver-haired Admiral came level with Clinton, a small conspiratorial smile touched his lips, and for the first time Clinton realized that it was not death. A year, said the Lieutenant who had prosecuted, as the door closed, "not a flogging, nor a hanging, d.a.m.ned generous, I'd say."

Congratulations. " Clinton's defending officer was grinning incredulously. "It was Curry, of course, he commanded the west coast anti-slavery squadron himself.

What a stroke of luck to have him on the'Board Pale, voiceless, swaying slightly on his feet, Clinton was still staring blindly through the open windows. Come on, my dear fellow, a year will soon be past the defending officer touched his arm, "and after that, no more bully beef and hard bread, do pull yourself together."

Twenty miles a day since leaving grandfather Moffat's mission-station at Kuruman, Zouga had pushed the mules and his servants hard all the way, and now at the crest of the pa.s.s he reined in the tall sway-backed mule and stared out across the sweeping panorama of the Cape peninsula.

Directly below him was that strange pale hill of smooth rock, Die Paarl as the Dutch burghers had named it, "the Pearl', and it shone with an almost translucent l.u.s.tre in the Cape sunlight of high summer.

Beyond that the wheatlands and vineyards dotted the flat land that stretched away to the Paarde Berg, the Horse Mountains, where once the wild mountain zebra had roamed, and the Tyger Berg. The leopard to the Dutch burghers was a tiger and the zebra was a horse. Nearly home now, Sergeant, Zouga called to Jan Cheroot. Just look at that-'The little Hottentot pointed to the smoky blue flat-topped mountain that stood up tall and ma.s.sive against the southern horizon. We will be there before dark tomorrow night."

Jan Cheroot puckered his lips and blew a kiss towards it. "Pull the cork and tell the Cape Town ladies that my mama didn't call me big cheroot for nothing."

his mule flicked its long hairy ears to the sound of his voice and gave a little half-hearted buck. "You feeling it too, you old thunder! " Jan Cheroot chuckled. "Let's go then! " and he whipped the animal up and went clattering away down the steep and rocky roadway.

Zouga stayed to watch the battered little two-wheeled Cape cart follow him at a more sedate pace, carrying its precious burden of ivory and sculptured green soapstone, as it had for a thousand miles and more.

it was a month before Robyn was allowed to pay her first visit to the castle. After the guard at the gates inspected her pa.s.s, she was led to a small whitewashed guard room, devoid of all furniture except three highbacked uncushioned chairs.

She remained standing for ten minutes before the low door opposite her was opened and Clinton stooped through it. He stopped, facing her, and she was struck instantly by the prison pallor of his skin. His deepwater tan had faded to a tobacco stain of yellow, and the roots of his hair, no longer bleached by salt and strong sunlight, had darkened.

He looked older, tired and dejected. You at least have not deserted me in my disgrace, he said simply.

The Subaltern of the guard took the third chair and tried to look as though he was not listening to their conversation. Robyn and Clinton sat facing each other stiffly, on the uncomfortable chairs, and their conversation was at first as stilted, a polite series of enquiries after each other's health.

Then Robyn asked, "Have you received the newspapers. Yes. The warder has been good to me. "Then you have read what the new American President has promised at his inauguration. "Lincoln was always a staunch enemy of the trade, Clinton nodded. He has granted the ships of the Royal Navy the right of search at last."

And six of the Southern States have seceded already, Clinton told her grimly. "There will be fighting, if he tries to force it. "It's so unfair, Robyn cried. "Just a few short weeks and you would have been a hero instead of a-" she broke off with her hand to her mouth, "I am sorry, Captain Codrington."

Captain no longer, he said. I feel so much to blame, had I not sent that letter-'You are so kind, so good, then he blurted abruptly, $and so beautiful that I can scarcely bear to look at you."

Robyn found herself blushing hotly, and she glanced at the listening guard officer. He was studying the rough plaster ceiling of the cell. Do you know what I thought when I entered the chamber and saw the dirk pointed at me? " Clinton went on, and she shook her head. "I thought I was going to lose you. That they would hang me and I would never see you again. " His voice was shaking with such emotion, that the listening officer rose to his feet. Doctor Ballantyne, I will leave the room for five minutes, he said. "Do I have your word that you will not attempt to pa.s.s a weapon or a tool to the prisoner in my absence? " Robyn nodded jerkily and whispered, "Thank you."

The moment the door closed, Clinton launched himself across the gap between them and dropped to his knees before Robyn. He encircled her waist with both arms and pressed his cheek to her bosom. But now I have nothing to offer you, I have nothing to share with you but my disgrace."

Robyn found herself stroking his hair as though he were a child. Soon I will go back to that beautiful land below the Zambezi river. I know now that is where my destiny lies, " she said quietly. "To minister to the souls and the bodies of those who live there."

She paused a moment and looked down fondly on the dense pale locks of his hair. You say you have nothing to offer, nothing to share, but I have something to offer you, and to share with you!

He raised his head and looked up at her questioningly, hope starting to dawn in his pale sapphire eyes. Will you not offer yourself to be ordained in G.o.d's service as a missionary, and come with me into the wilderness, to the land of Zarnbezia? "To share my life with you, and with G.o.d. " His voice was hush and choked. "I never dreamed I was worthy of such an honour. "The fellow is a prig, said Zouga firmly. "And, d.a.m.n me, but now he is a gaol-bird to boot. Neither of you will be able to hold up your heads in society. "He has a true and n.o.ble spirit, and now he has found his true calling in G.o.d's service, Robyn replied hotly. Neither of us intend spending much of our time in society, you may be certain of that."

Zouga shrugged and smiled. "Of course, that is your affair. At least he has made a pretty packet of prize money which they can't take away from himI a.s.sure you that money had nothing to do with my decision. "I will believe that. " Zouga's smile infuriated her, but before she could find a scathing enough retort, he turned away and sauntered the length of the long veranda under the trellised vines and stood with his hands thrust into his pockets, staring out across the Cartwrights" gardens to the far glimpses of blue bay seen through the oaks and the rustling palms.

Robyn's anger subsided and gave way to regret. It seemed now that the two of them must always be squabbling, their desires and their motives always directly opposed.

At first her relief at his safety had been almost as strong as her sisterly delight at seeing him again. She had barely recognized him as he rode the bony swaybacked mule up the path to the Cartwright mansion. It was only when he dismounted and lifted the stained old hat from his head that she screamed with joy, leapt up from the luncheon table and ran down off the terrace to hug him.

He was so lean and hard and bronzed, and somehow endowed with new authority, charged with purpose and presence, that she glowed with pride as he recounted his experiences and all the company hung avidly on each word. He is like a Greek G.o.d! " Aletta Cartwright had whispered to Robyn, which was not an original description but then Aletta did not run much to original thought, and Robyn had to agree that in this case it was accurate.

She had followed his description of the land of the Matabele, and of the long trek southward with all her attention, asking such acute questions that Zouga had asked sharply, I hope that you will not be using any of this in your own account, Sissy? "Of course not, " she a.s.sured him, but still that had been the first sour note, and he had not spoken further of his adventures, except to give her the greetings and news of their grandfather, Robert Moffat at Kururnan. You would never believe that he was seventy-five years old this past December. He is so bright and alive that he has just finished translating the Bible into the Sechuan language. He gave me every courtesy and help, and it was he who arranged for mules and for the cart which made the last portion of the journey so much easier. He remembered you as a little girl of three years old, and he has received your letters and gave me this in reply. " It was a thick packet. "He tells me that you have asked him about leading a missionary expedition to Zarnbezia or Matabeleland. "That is correct. "Sissy, I do not think that a woman on her own, he had begun, but she had forestalled him. I shall not be alone. Captain Clinton Codrington has decided to seek ordination as a missionary, and I have consented to become his wife."

That had led to the explosion which had once more marred their relationship. As her anger faded, she made another determined effort to avert the new clash of temperament.

Zouga, she went down the length of the terrace and took his arm. I would be grateful if you would consent to give me away at the wedding."

Some of the hardness went out of his arm as his muscles relaxed. When will that be, Sissy? "Not for seven months.

Clinton has that much longer of his sentence."

Zouga. shook his head. "I will not be here. I have booked pa.s.sage on the & steamer that sails for home at the beginning of next month. " They were both silent, and then Zouga went on, "But I wish you joy and happiness, and I apologize for the remark I made about your future husband. "I understand. " She squeezed his arm. "He is a different kind of man from you."

Zouga almost exclaimed, "Thank G.o.d for that, but caught the blasphemy before it reached his lips, and again they were silent.

Zouga was considering the problem that had concerned him so intimately since his return to Cape Town - how to find out from Robyn what she had written in her ma.n.u.script, and if possible to influence her into amending those portions of it which might offend the family reputation.

Now that he had learned that she would not be returning to England, the natural opportunity had presented itself. Sissy, if your ma.n.u.script is prepared, I will be happy to take it with me and to make certain that it is delivered safely to Oliver Wicks."

The voyage to England would give Zouga ample opportunity to study Robyn's work, and if the delivery was delayed for a month or so after his arrival, then Zouga's own published account of the expedition would skim the cream off the pool of interest and critical literary attention. Oh, did I not mention it to you? " Robyn lifted her chin, and her smile was spiced with a little spiteful relish. "I sent my ma.n.u.script on the mail steamer a month before your arrival here. It will be in London already, and I should not be surprised if Mr. Wicks has not published it already. I expect he will have sent the reviews, and we will have them on the next mailship."

Zouga jerked his arm out of her grip, and his eyes were steely as he glared down at her.

I really should have mentioned it, she added sweetly.

His reaction confirmed her suspicions. and she knew that what last small chance they had was finished. From now on they would be enemies, and somehow she knew that the centre of their enmity would always be the land and peoples of that faraway country between two great rivers which Zouga had named Zambezia.

At the end of the Woodstock road, on the bank of the Liesbeeck river, not far from the domed roof of the Royal Astronomical Observatory, stands the Cartwright warehouse. It is a rambling whitewashed building of a burnt Kimberley brick with a corrugated iron roof.

Against the rear wall of the main storeroom stood three articles left there in storage and for later collection by Major Morris Zouga Ballantyne, presently on pa.s.sage aboard the Peninsular and Orient Steamship S. S. Bombay from India to the Pool of London. The three bulky articles were almost completely screened by the bays and hillocks of bales and crates, and of barrels and bags, which reached almost to the high ceiling.

The two huge elephant tusks formed a perfect frame with their curved yellow ivories for the third package.

The carved soapstone figure was still contained in its protective covering of plaited elephant gra.s.s and twisted bark rope. It stood upright on its wide heavy base, and it was merely chance that it faced towards the north.

The gra.s.s covering had been torn away from the head by careless handling and long months of travel on the shoulders of porters and on the buckboards of an unsprung Cape cart.

The cruel proud head of the bird of prey protruded from its wrappings. The stony sightless eyes stared across forest and mountain and desert, one thousand five hundred miles, to a walled and mined city and the words of the Umlimo's prophecy seemed to hover in the air above the graven head of the bird like living things. The white eagle has stooped on the stone falcons and cast them to earth. Now the eagle shall lift them up again and they will fly afar. There shall be no peace in the kingdoms of the Mambos or the Monomatapas until they return. For the white eagle will war with the black bull until the stone falcons return to roost. The End Wilbur Smith was born in Central Africa in 1933. He was educated at Michaelhouse and Rhodes University. He became a full-time writer in 1964 after the successful publication of When the Lion Feeds, and has since written twenty-four novels, meticulously researched on his numerous expeditions worldwide. His work is now translated into twenty-five languages. He normally travels from November to February, often spending a month skiing in Switzerland, and visiting Australia and New Zealand for sea fishing. During his summer break he visits environments as diverse as Alaska and the dwindling wilderness of the African interior. He has an abiding concern for the peoples and wildlife of his native continent, an interest strongly reflected in his novels.

He is married to Danielle, to whom his last twenty books have been dedicated.

The novels of Wilbur Smith