Damien's Destiny (11 page)

“Immeasurably. Thank you. And I’d like to leave right away. With this small a ship I can’t really take many of the crew without jeopardizing its safety so I’m very grateful for the addition of your men. If you’d send them to the dock I’ll wire Lord Sinclair and then be ready to leave. I assume your men know the way better than I do?”

“Yes sir, as I do and I’ll be with them. You can leave your crew on the ship so they’ll be ready to sail as soon as we return with your friend.”

A blessing Jason hadn’t expected. He sometimes forgot the power Damien exercised. He really shouldn’t. Damien was a commanding man in many ways.

“I’ll fetch my men and come back. We should use horses as they are the faster method. I assume you ride, sir?”

“Of course,” Jason answered with a smile. “Like most British country gentlemen.”

Captain Reeves grinned. “We’ll not be long, sir.”

He saluted smartly, rode away and true to his word returned within the half hour with four mounted men and two extra horses.

“In case your friend isn’t up to riding, sir, we’ve brought a litter as well.”

With that dire reminder the little party set out.

* * * * *

Jason found himself not only unexpectedly saddle sore but increasingly apprehensive as the small group neared the border between Mashonaland and Mozambique. Rhodes’ control over Mashonaland was not complete but the small party experienced no difficulty even as they approached the border. Portuguese guards had apparently been instructed to let them through and they had no trouble as they crossed from Beira to a slight pass in the mountainous border. There they were stopped by armed Africans, strong black men whose powerful build left no doubt of their ability to repel any challenge.

As the evident leader of the group stepped forward, so did Jason.

“You are here for what reason, white man?”

Jason stood still. There seemed no use wasting pleasantries with this formidable group.

“I am here to collect my good friend, Marquis Chittenden. I believe you have him in your custody?”

The impressive man so evidently a leader merely looked stoically at the small white group before him.

“His title means nothing to me. But I assume he is then valuable to you. As he is to us. Are you prepared to pay for his release?”

Jason could only admire his opponent’s magnificent physique and bearing, as well as his command of the English language. Not at all what he’d expected. A fleeting thought he might understand why Rafe had tried, even though unsuccessfully, to aid this lost cause tempered his response. There was more here in the politics of South Africa than Jason could grasp. In fact, he’d made little effort up ’til now to understand. Inner workings of the opposing forces just hadn’t interested him much, nor did he think many of his countrymen cared. Most were content with the fact Britannia was amassing gold, diamonds and land.

Jason grimaced. He’d never be so short-sighted again.

He faced the tall African squarely.

“Yes, we are prepared to pay. Not sight unseen, however. When you deliver the Marquis to us we will pay the ransom. I think you specified gold?”

The tall African almost grinned. At least it might be called a smile, hastily hidden.

“We will have to come to an understanding. One half now and the other half when we deliver your friend.”

Jason could see no way out of this. If he paid over half and they didn’t bring Rafe to him he’d be out a great deal of Damien’s gold. But this stalwart opponent would never be satisfied with promises from a white man. Too many had proven empty as a puff of wind.

Jason put out his hand. “Shall we shake on this agreement, sir?”

He thought the African looked startled and then pleased.

“Yes, we will. Sir.”

Jason recognized the “sir” for the concession it was and grasped the other’s hand.

“Here is half of what I brought. Your chief never specified an amount, so we went by what we could find about past negotiations with your people. We brought what we thought you’d want in gold.”

He held out one of the bags of coins, conscious that at any time the Africans could easily overwhelm his small group and take all the money. Somehow the thought didn’t worry him.

Captain Reeves looked startled and uneasy but Jason motioned him to silence.

The African took the bag and hefted it but didn’t try to check the amount. Then he turned to one of his men.

“Bring the prisoner to his friends.”

Two of them immediately trotted off, as everyone waited.

Now Lobengula’s man seemed to look uneasy but they all remained in silence until the two who’d left returned with a litter made of poles and barkcloth.

And a Rafe Jason almost didn’t recognize.

Thin to the point of emaciation, slivers of gray wove through his draggled dark hair and lines of suffering were etched plainly on his face. A heavily bearded face, the silver-gray streaking showing even more plainly there than in his hair. His right arm lay crookedly at his side, burn marks crossed his forehead and his shirtless body showed many more burns and what looked to Jason to be the end of welts caused by a whip.

Rafe still managed a grin and held out his gaunt left hand.

Jason grasped it, hoping he didn’t show his distress. His friend needed no negative emotions at a time like this.

“I knew you or Damien would come,” Rafe said simply.

“Of course,” Jason said, hoping he hadn’t hurt Rafe when he shook his bony hand. “Let’s start back.”

Jason turned, handing the second bag of gold to Lobengula’s representative.

“Here is the remainder of the gold,” Jason said simply.

No “sir” this time. After seeing Rafe’s pitiful state he found himself incapable of thanking the man for fulfilling his end of the bargain. The large African looked just a little shamed as he took the gold.

“I’m glad you claimed your friend,” he said simply in his impeccable English. He turned away, motioning for his men to follow.

Jason waited and watched until they’d disappeared, although he and the others immediately backed well away from the boundary line and into safer territory. Then he drew a jar of ointment from his saddlebag and came back to Rafe.

“Damien sent this with me. I’m sure it will make you easier.”

Rafe’s eyes sparked with a little more life than before.

“I should have remembered how prescient he is.”

“And a fantastic healer,” Jason said simply. He began to spread the ointment over all the scarred tissue. Rafe sighed in relief, so evidently it was another of Damien’s miracle concoctions.

The other men stood by in horrified silence.

After giving Rafe a minute Jason asked gently, “I’d like to do your back. Do you need help turning on your stomach, Rafe?”

“No, if I use my left arm I can do it.”

Jason could hardly resist helping, as Rafe laboriously turned himself on his stomach and one of the men in the escort gasped aloud. Rafe had been repeatedly flogged and ugly whip marks crisscrossed over his once powerful body.

Jason found tears blurring his eyes as he applied the ointment as gently as he could and Rafe seemed to relax a little under the soothing salve.

“Do you want me to help you turn over again, Rafe?”

“Definitely yes this time. It’s a little harder going this direction. Just give me a hand. My back already feels much better but I want to see and rejoice in every step as we leave this godforsaken spot of hell.”

Jason took his good left hand and turned him again so he now lay on what must be excruciating and man-made injuries. Thanks to Damien he‘d brought plenty of ointment, which was waiting on the ship. He swallowed his sudden rage at the atrocities heaped on Rafe and turned to Captain Reeves.

“Will you take one end of the litter on your saddle and I’ll take the other? I think we’d best leave him on the litter they brought and not transfer him.”

“I’d be honored, sir.”

Together they suspended the African litter between their horses and began the journey to Beira at about half the speed they’d used to gallop in.

Jason worried about every jouncing step the horses took, even as they kept to a slow pace. About a half-hour along the road he looked down at Rafe’s sleeping face. Evidently Damien had used more than one magical ingredient in making his salve. Much relieved, Jason settled down for the wearisome trip to The
Sea Gull.

Chapter Nine

Damien stared at the latest wireless message. It was all too easy to read between the lines of this one.

I have Rafe on ship. Will proceed home immediately. Ointment proving essential.

When the two girls asked him at dinner if he’d received any word he simply said yes, Rafe and Jason were in Beira and would soon be on their way home. Something about Damien’s silence kept them both quiet and he soon excused himself and went to his library. He simply could not talk to anyone tonight.

He shut his eyes and tried to summon a definite vision of Rafe but couldn’t do so. He should know better than try. His prophetic visions could never be commanded, only endured when they chose to appear. Sometimes they left him feeling as spineless as a dish of water, although not always. With his last vision some time ago he’d seen Rafe being marched away by two big Africans. Knowing the hatred of both blacks and whites he feared the worst. Trust Rafe to think as one man he could volunteer to help and solve an insoluble problem.

Damien sat at his desk, lowering his head in his hands. It was not like him to be morose but he seemed more powerless than he cared to be. Besides the problem of Rafe, Debora seemed to grow more listless every day. And Toria refused to meet his eyes. He’d known she’d found pleasure in his arms and perhaps he should have expected her to withdraw a little and into her fears again but still it hurt.

The feel of her soft skin and the heated kiss they’d shared haunted him like a hovering wraith, refusing to disappear and leave him in peace.

A knock suddenly sounded on this door. Damn, whatever household problem had arisen, why couldn’t Stephens deal with it?

He strode impatiently to the door and opened it to find Toria.

A delectable Toria, her hair cascading down her back. Wrapped in a voluminous robe but still enchanting. No garment made could diminish the beauty of her face.

She simply stood there, her enormous eyes probing his. His heartbeat quickened as he took her hands and drew her in.

He looked at her in wonder for a moment and then took her lightly in his arms.

“What can I do for you, love?”

His gaze fell for just a moment to her bare toes. Pretty pink toes, as enchanting as the rest of her. He loved graceful feet on women. He groaned. Her gorgeous hair always affected him. Did she have to expose her enticing toes? And dig them into the plush carpet as if in distress?

Toria came into the room, one step at a time. She seemed deep in worry about something. Now what bothered his gorgeous love?

“I couldn’t sleep, Damien. You were so unapproachable all day. As if I’d offended you. Did I give you an utter disgust of me last night? Being so forward, I mean?”

Damien was as surprised as he could remember. Merciful Merlin, here he’d spent the day trying to keep his hands off her and she thought he was acting distant.

He placed his hands gently on her shoulders. At any time she wanted, she could lift her face for his kiss. When she kept her eyes lowered he didn’t move but spoke softly.

“I would like to kiss you every minute of every day, as well as all night. Does this tell you what you want to know?”

She raised her eyes and smiled just a portion of her glorious smile.

“Not really, Damien. I so much enjoyed your last kisses. I enjoyed everything we did last night. Why don’t you kiss me now?”

He lowered his head and claimed her as his one true love. She might not yet understand but she belonged only to him. He let the kiss deepen until she nestled her body close to his and he found himself shaking once more with need. She responded eagerly to his kisses and for a moment he let his lips claim hers as he felt his ready erection surge against her. He moved his body a little and pressed into her so she could not mistake his arousal. His body fitted flush against hers and for the moment she didn’t seem to care.

After a time both tortuously long and unbearably short he stepped back a little. It was time to make her aware of some of his feelings for her. He simply couldn’t go on pretending he wanted only friendship.

“This is why I don’t kiss you oftener, Toria. When I kiss you I want to claim you completely. When I gave you pleasure the last time I kissed you I loved your response but I’m afraid to do it again. If I did I might not be able to stop my body from making you mine. I want you very badly. All of you.”

She stayed in his arms a moment, searching his face. He stayed still, knowing it was necessary she understand him and to realize he was a very masculine man. He looked back at her gravely, hoping the love in his eyes and in his heart would help her accept what must seem almost insupportable to her.