The effort to march became a physical agony, a pain that blossomed, spreading through his entire body. And then it didn’t seem to exist any longer. Now, there was only a small, burning core inside that refused to let him lie down and die.
The wind lifted into his face, blowing aside his head-cloth and the sun cut sharply against the unprotected flesh, and then he was on his face in the sand and Jamal was lifting him again. Later, he was lying across the Somali’s broad shoulders, and he frowned and shook his head, trying to think clearly, but it was no good. Nothing was any good now, and he lapsed into a dark vacuum of heat.
There was sand in his mouth and his fingers clawed at the ground, but this time no hand lifted him in its strong grip. This time he was on his own. Utterly and finally alone, andjamal had gone.
He would never get back to that girl now, the girl with the white limbs and the cool mouth, the girl he had needed all his life to fuse with his being so that they became a single entity, existing together, savouring life to the full in the only way it can be savoured – together.
Was he Gavin Kane or was he Alexias the Greek, centurion of the Tenth Legion, and who was the one with the white arms and the cool mouth? There was no answer. No answer on top of earth.
The water spilled across his face with the shock of a physical blow, trickling down into his mouth, causing him to cough violently. A strong hand raised him and his teeth gripped the metal rim of a water-bottle. He swallowed greedily and doubled over as cramp twisted his guts.
He opened his swollen, red-rimmed eyes and found Jordan supporting him across his knees. In the background a truck was parked.
Kane opened his mouth and managed to speak. ‘Back there in the desert,’ he croaked. ‘Ruth Cunningham and her husband. You’d better get to them quick.’
Jordan nodded reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry about a thing. It’s all been taken care of. Two of my men have already gone for them in my other truck, with the big
Somali to guide them.’ He grinned. ‘That Jamal is quite a guy.’
But Kane heard no more. His eyes closed as his body twisted in a great shuddering sigh of relief and darkness flooded over him.
SEVENTEEN
HE OPENED HIS EYES slowly. For a moment his mind was a complete blank and he struggled up on one elbow, panic moving inside him, and then he remembered and lay back with an audible sigh of relief.
He was lying on a camp bed underneath a low awning suspended on four poles. Two trucks were parked near by and there was a tent pitched several yards away.
As Kane moved, Jamal, who was squatting at the end of the bed, got to his feel and leaned over him. As their eyes met, a huge smile appeared on the Somali’s face, and Kane held out his hand silently.
Jamal took it and the smile faded from his face. For a brief moment, there was a feeling between them that had not existed before, and then he turned away and crossed to Jordan, who was bending over a spirit-stove in the centre of the camp.
Jordan came towards Kane, a pot in one hand and a plastic cup in the other. ‘Coffee, sir?’ he said with a grin.
Kane swung his legs to the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. He felt curiously weak and light-headed, and somehow, everything was touched with a slight tinge of unreality and blurred at the edges.
He swallowed some of the coffee and shivered as it burned its way down into his stomach. ‘I have a feeling I shouldn’t really be here.’
Jordan nodded. ‘That’s putting it mildly.’
Kane peered out from under the awning. They were camped in the foothills of the mountains, and the desert rolled into the distance before them. ‘Where are we?’
‘About ten or twelve miles from Shabwa,’ Jordan answered. ‘I made camp here in a hurry because I didn’t know what shape Cunningham and his wife were in.’