‘It doesn’t take a soldier to see such things. Call it intuition if you want. I’m not a soldier but I have plenty of experience of life.’
‘And what do you propose we do about these intuitions?’
Victor was not sure. He had not thought that part through thoroughly. ‘Perhaps we should be frank. Let’s confront Steel with our concerns and see what he says.’
Sebastian looked suddenly irritated with Victor. ‘If you have no stomach for this fight any more then you are under no obligation to stay.’
Victor was stunned by the comment. ‘After all that I have sacrificed, this is what you say to me, for expressing my opinion?’
‘I’ve been living by my wits my entire life. Things change, Victor. People change. Perhaps we no longer follow the same path.’
Victor was furious. Frustration welled up in him. He felt as if he had been mortally wounded. ‘I have learned something about change tonight. And that is not to be afraid of it.’
Sebastian did not react.Victor went to the door and left the cabin.
He closed the door and stood in the darkness, the emotional wound stinging intensely. But instead of skulking away to drink himself to sleep he straightened his back and gritted his teeth. He was not going to let this one go. If he was at a crossroads with this revolution then it was time to do something other than what he had been doing.
To keep out of sight Victor decided to take the back path between the cabins that led to the stables. When he got there he saddled his horse and led it out of the stall. As he climbed onto the animal’s back Yoinakuwa stepped from the shadows, startling him.
‘Will you stop doing that,’ Victor said, clutching at his chest. ‘One of these days you’re going to give me a heart attack.’
Yoinakuwa looked him in the eye, his question plain enough.
‘I have to go somewhere,’ Victor said. ‘I will be fine on my own.’ Then he had an afterthought. ‘But if I am not back by morning you may find the answer in Hector’s camp.’
Victor rode away into the darkness. Yoinakuwa watched him go.
Chapter 7
Stratton placed his clothes over the back of a chair, stepped into the metal bath and lowered himself gingerly into the hot water. He immersed himself gradually, sliding down until the liquid was up to his neck, taking a moment to get used to the heat before sinking beneath the surface.
He held his breath, relishing the sensation of the hot water all around him. As he resurfaced slowly and opened his eyes the door of the cabin opened. His gaze flicked to his pistol a foot away on the chair and he moved his hand towards it.
Louisa stepped in stealthily and closed the door behind her quietly, keeping her back to it as she looked around the room.
When she saw Stratton lying in the tub looking at her she broke into a giggle. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said in a soft voice. ‘I didn’t knock because I didn’t want the guards to see me.’
‘Did they?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Some guards.’
‘They’re not meant for you.’
‘I’m not worth protecting any more?’
‘You don’t need protecting. Anyone with any sense would be afraid to come in here.’
‘You’re here.’
‘There’s nothing in here that I’m afraid of.’
Stratton smiled at the innuendo.
‘Can I lock the door?’
He raised his eyebrows questioningly.
Louisa ignored him and drew the bolt across. ‘How’s your back?’ she asked, walking over to him.
‘I neglected to change the dressing. I’ve been a terrible nurse.’
‘I understood that was because you’d moved on from nursing.’
‘We have to win the revolution first. Let me see it,’ she asked, walking behind him.
Stratton leaned forward in the tub as she crouched down. He felt her fingers on his back, touching him gently. Then her palms spread out and covered an area much larger than the wound. ‘You heal well,’ she said as she dipped a hand in the water. ‘You like your bath hot.’
‘Not usually. But it’s been a while.’
‘Can I wash your back for you?’
‘You’re very kind.’
Louisa was about to pick up the large slab of brown soap on the chair next to his pistol. Then she gave it a dismissive look. ‘You can’t wash your skin with laundry soap,’ she said. ‘There’s a box of shampoos and gels somewhere.’ She stood up and walked away.
Stratton listened to her rummaging through some boxes.
‘Victor looked disturbed tonight,’ she said.
‘He seems to have a lot on his mind.’
‘Did he tell you?’
‘No.’
‘He’s having a private talk with my father, just the two of them. That’s unusual for him. The ambush has changed him - made him more daring, perhaps.’
The sounds of Louisa searching through the boxes ceased and Stratton waited for the sound of her boots on the floor as she came back. But there was nothing other than the crackling noise of the fire. He heard a soft sound close by and remained still, wondering what she was doing.
He looked down to see her bare foot dipping into the water.The other followed and she lowered her naked body into the tub behind him, stretching her legs out either side of him. She held his lower back tightly between her thighs.
Gently, she took hold of his shoulders and guided him until his back was resting against her breasts. She placed a hand on his forehead and pressed his head back until it was nestling on her shoulder. Then she laid her cheek against his.
‘That was pretty sneaky,’ Stratton said.
‘It’s called strategy. It’s not just used in war, you know. I was told that you can use it in anything. Even love.’
‘That’s a wise teacher you have there.’
‘Well, he knows his stuff on the battlefield. I don’t know what else he might be good at, though.’
It was the most delicious gauntlet that had ever been thrown down before him, Stratton thought.
‘There’s something I have to ask you,’ Louisa said.
‘What?’
‘Did your grandmother really want to be a Gurkha?’ she smiled.
‘No. Of course not. Not after three years in the Foreign Legion.’
‘Idiot.’
‘I don’t blame her, really.’
‘Stop it,’ she laughed.
They lay in silence, bathed in the orange glow from the fire, both of them staring at it and lost in their thoughts.
Finally Louisa spoke. ‘Let’s not talk about anything beyond this moment. No futures. No dreams.’
‘I can’t control my thoughts,’ Stratton said.
She kissed his cheek. ‘Maybe I can, for a little while.’ He turned his head to look into her eyes and their lips met softly. He reached an arm behind her waist and lifted her around to sit on him. Their kisses grew more passionate, more urgent.
The entrance to Hector’s camp looked more threaten - ing than Sebastian’s. A tree-trunk wall filled the long gap between two rocky outcrops. It had an immense gate in the middle with a smaller entrance to one side. As Victor approached, looking as haggard as his horse, he saw two earth-and-sandbag machine-gun emplacements, with others on top of the rocky hillocks. Half a dozen heavily armed guards stood outside. One of them recognised Victor and sent a runner to deliver his message to Hector.
He climbed down and tried to ease his aching back and hips. He had never ridden a horse before joining the rebellion and after his first ride he’d realised that his body had long since grown inflexible and would never adapt to sitting astride anything so wide for long periods of time. He had barely recovered from the ride to and from the ambush and within a few minutes of his journey to Hector’s camp all the same aches and pains had returned twofold.