You murderer, you cold-blooded monster, you killed her. And she held the pistol double-handed, the necklace entangled with the weapon, the barrel waving in erratic circles. You killed my little H'ani. I hate you for it! Centaine! He put out his hand to take the pistol from her.
There was a flash of gunsmoke and the Luger kicked upwards, flinging Centaine's hands above her head. The shot cracked like a trek whip, numbing her eardrums.
Lothar's body jerked backwards and he spun on his heels. His long golden locks flickered like ripe wheat in a high wind as he collapsed on to his knees, and then toppled on to his face.
Centaine dropped the Lugger and fell back against the side of the wagon, as Hendrick rushed forward and snatched the Luger out of her hand.
I hate you, she panted at Lothar. Die, damn you. Die and go to hell!
Centaine rode with a slack rein, letting her mount choose its own pace and path. She had Shasa on her hip with a sling under him to support his weight. She held his head in the crook of her arm, and he slept quietly against her.
The wind had scourged the desert for five days now without cease, and the driven sands hissed and slithered across the earth's surface like sea spume across a beach, and the round seed pods of tumbleweed trundled across the plain like footballs. The small herds of springbok turned their backs to its chilling blast and tucked their tails up between their legs.
Centaine had wound a scarf around her head like a turban, and thrown a blanket over her shoulders to cover Shasa and herself. She hunched down in the saddle and the cold wind tugged at the corners of the blanket and tang led her horse's long mane. She slitted her eyes against the gritty wind, and saw the Finger of God.
It was still far ahead, indistinct through the dun dustladen air, but it spiked the low sky, even in this haze visible from five miles off. This was the reason that Lothar De La Rey had chosen it. it was unique, there could be no confusion with any other natural feature.
Centaine pulled up the pony's head and urged him into a trot. Shasa whimpered a protest in his sleep at the change of gait, but Centaine straightened in the saddle, trying to throw off the sorrow and rage that lay upon her with a weight that threatened to crush her soul.
Slowly the silhouette of the Finger of God hardened against the dusty yellow sky, a slim pillar of rock, thrusting towards the heavens and then thickening into a flaring cobra's head, two hundred feet above the plain. Staring at it, Centaine was aware of the same superstitious awe that must have gripped the old Hottentots who named itMukurob.
Then from the base of the great stone monument a dart of light, reflected off metal, pricked her eyes and she shaded them with the blanket and peered intently.
Shasa, she whispered. They are there! They are waiting for us. She urged the weary pony into a canter, and rose in the stirrups.
in the shadow of the stone pillar was parked a motor vehicle, and beside it a small green cottage tent had been d. erected There was a camp fire burning in front of the tent, and a plume of smoke, blue as a heron's feather, smeared by the wind across the plain.
Centaine whipped the turban from her head and waved it like a banner. Here! she screamed. Hullo! Here I am! The two indistinct human figures rose from beside the fire, staring towards her.
She waved and hulloed, still at full gallop, and one of the figures broke into a run. It was a woman, a big woman in long skirts. She held them up over her knees, ploughing with desperate haste through the soft footing. Her face was bright scarlet with effort and emotion. Anna! Centaine screamed.
Oh, Anna! There were tears streaming down that broad red face, and Anna dropped her skirts and stood with her arms spread wide.
My baby! she cried, and Centaine flung herself from the saddle and clutching Shasa to her breast, ran into her embrace.
They were both weeping, holding hard to each other, trying to talk at once, but incoherently, laughing between the sobs, when Shasa, crushed between them, let out a protesting howl.
Anna snatched him from her and hugged him. A boy, he's a boy. Michel.
Centaine sobbed happily. I named him Michel Shasa. And Shasa let out a hoot and grabbed with of hands at t at marvelous face, so big and red as a fruit ripe for eating.
Michel! Anna wept as she kissed him. Shasa, who knew all about kissing, opened his mouth wide and smeared warm saliva down her chin.
Still carrying Shasa, Anna dragged Centaine by one arm towards the tent and the camp fire.
A tall, round-shouldered figure came towards them diffidently. His thinning sandy-grey hair was swept back from a high scholarly forehead, and his mild, vaguely myopic eyes were a muddier shade of the Courtney blue than Michael's had been; his nose, while every bit as large as General Sean Courtney's, seemed somehow to be ashamed of the fact.
I am Michael's father, he said shyly, and it was like looking at a faded and smudged photograph of her Michael. Centaine felt a rush of guilt, for she had been false to her vows and to Michael's memory. It was as though Michael confronted her now. For an instant she remembered his twisted body in the cockpit of the burning aircraft, and in grief and guilt she ran to Garry and threw her arms around his neck.
Papa! she said, and at that word Garry's reserve collapsed and he choked and clung to her.
I had given up hope- Garry could not go on, and the sight of his tears set Anna off again, which was too much for Shasa. He let out a doleful wall, and all four of them stood together beneath the Finger of God and wept.
The wagons seemed to swim towards them through the streaming dust, rolling and pitching over the uneven ground, and as they waited for them to come up, Anna murmured, We must be eternally grateful to this man-She sat in the back seat of the Fiat tourer with Shasa on her lap and Centaine beside her.
He will be well paid. Garry stood with one booted foot on the running-board of the Fiat. In his hand he held a rolled document, secured with a red ribbon. He tapped the roll against his artificial leg.
Whatever you pay him will not be enough, Anna affirmed, and hugged Shasa.
He is an outlaw and a renegade, Garry scowled. It goes very much against the grain- Please give him what we owe him, Papa, Centaine said softly, then let him go. I don't want ever to see him again. The small, half-naked Nama boy leading the ox-team whistled them to a halt, and Lothar De La Rey climbed down slowly from the wagon seat, wincing at the effort.
When he reached the ground, he paused for a moment, steadying himself with his free hand against the wagon body. His other arm was in a sling across his chest. His face was a yellowish putty colour beneath the smoothly tanned skin. His eyes were darkly underscored, the lines of suffering at the corners of his mouth accentuated, and a dense stubble of pale beard covered his jaws and sparkled even in the poor light.
He has been hurt, Anna murmured. What happened to him? And beside her Centaine silently turned her head away.
Lothar braced himself and went to meet Garry. Halfway between the Fiat and the wagon they shook hands briefly, Lothar awkwardly offering his uninjured left hand.
They spoke in low tones that did not reach to where Centaine sat. Garry offered him the roll of parchment, and Lothar loosened theribbon with his teeth and spread the sheet against his thigh, holding it with his one good hand as he stooped to read it.
After a minute he straightened and let the parchment spring back into a roll. He nodded at Garry and said something. His face was expressionless, and Garry shuffled selfconsciously and made an uncertain gesture, halfoffering another handshake and then thinking better of it, for Lothar was not looking at him.
He was staring at Centaine, and now he pushed past Garry and started slowly towards her. Immediately Centaine snatched Shasa off Anna's lap and crouched in the furthest corner of the seat, glaring at him, holding Shasa away from him protectively. Lothar stopped, lifted his good hand towards her in a small gesture of appeal, but let it drop to his side when her expression did not change.