The Promise of Pain Page 12

  Thomas heard Jorge turn aside and vomit up the scrap of meat he had eaten. Thomas felt nothing, not even anger. Now he knew for certain that Mandana had reverted to the devil he had always been, and Guerrero was worse.

  Below, the stallion came to a halt and men untied the broken remains of the deserter. They were all forced men who were made to perform the task, then told to carry the remains and dispose of both bodies. There would be no burial here, only the throwing of the remains over some cliff to be picked clean by vultures and vermin. No need to display what was left of the man’s body on a cross, because everyone below had watched the manner of his dying. A lesson to them all.

  “We need an army,” said Jorge, and Thomas nodded.

  “When we know more we’ll get help.” He glanced along the valley to where it descended toward the east. “Gharnatah is less than half a day’s march. If Muhammed has any sense he will have set guards in all directions, including this one.”

  “That’s Olaf’s job, isn’t it?”

  “He might suggest it, I’m sure, but the ultimate decision is the Sultan’s. It makes me think–” Thomas broke off what he was about to say as he felt Kin stiffen beside him and emit a small yelp. “No,” Thomas said. He twisted his fingers through the long hair behind the dog’s neck as he felt it try to rise.

  “What’s he doing?”

  “He recognises one of those men,” Thomas said.

  Four of them carried the remains of the dead man and his wife, climbing the slope, and Thomas knew they meant to carry the corpses to a higher place where the birds would more easily find them. He rose, tugging Kin after him, pushing at Jorge’s shoulder, but the dog jerked around, snarling as it snapped at Thomas’s hand. Then it was free and bounding down the hillside.

  Thomas saw one of the men look up as if in recognition of the animal, and Thomas in turn recognised Luis, who released the arm he was holding and, unbalanced, the body fell to the stony ground. Kin ran at a sprint to him and leaped around his legs, barking wildly.

  “No,” Thomas said, his voice soft, knowing he could do nothing. He pushed at Jorge again. “Go, we have to hide. The dog is lost.” He glanced behind. Luis was trying to stop one of the others, who had drawn a knife and was attempting to catch hold of the dog. But Kin was too fast and continued to bark, over and over, thinking it was all a fine game to play.

  Thomas led the way over shattered rocks, climbing ever higher until they came to a steep rock-face where Jorge took the lead. He had always been the better climber, and Thomas recalled how they had ascended the three hundred foot cliff at Ronda with nothing but the light of the moon to show them the way, and felt a foolish hope rise in him that they would succeed again, the two of them. Except when they had completed that feat, Lubna had been at the foot of the cliff to encourage them, something she would never be able to do again.

  Jorge came to a deep ledge and turned to offer a hand to Thomas, who reached up and took it, feeling the man’s greater strength as he pulled him over the lip. He fell panting to the rock, trying to suppress the urge to laugh because there was nothing to laugh at, but still he felt his chest shake. He knelt and looked over the edge. Far below, the four men had reached their destination and laid the bodies of husband and wife on the ground. There was no sign of Kin, and now with distance Thomas was unable to tell which of the men was his master. He wondered if one of the others had used a knife on Kin and felt a sense of loss, even though the animal had never been his.

  “Do you think Luis knows we’re here?” asked Jorge, who came to kneel beside Thomas, his shoulder pressing against his as it always did.

  “More than likely. He must know Kin didn’t find him by accident.”

  “I can’t see the dog. Did they kill it?”

  “I expect so.” Thomas shifted position, an impatience growing in him—a need for action he tried to ignore it but knew he was going to fail.

  “Four men,” he said.

  “You count well. What about them?”

  “Luis was taken only recently. They won’t have corrupted him yet.”

  “And?”

  Thomas glanced at Jorge then rose. “You can stay here if you want, I can probably manage the other three on my own.” As he began to descend the cliff he heard Jorge make a sound and start to follow.

  The men had turned back but were not yet visible from the camp when Thomas stepped from behind a rock and confronted them. He held a knife in one hand because he had no sword with him. He noticed none of the four carried one either.

  The men stopped and stared at him.

  “Hello, Luis,” Thomas said, staring at the young man. “Which of these men killed your dog? He will be the first to die.”

  Thomas saw one of the men look away and wondered if it had been him.

  “We should get back,” said one of the others. “He’ll punish us if he thinks we’re trying to run off.” The man washed his hands together, as if wanting to cleanse them of the task he had been forced to carry out.

  Thomas wondered who the man referred to, Mandana or Guerrero, though he believed he knew the answer. Mandana’s men always called him the Wolf. The leader here they called Warrior, so it was Guerrero who led them. An old evil making way for a new one.

  “Is that what he did? Tried to escape?”

  Luis offered a nod. “What are you doing here?” He turned to his companions. “Go back, all of you. Tell him I’m gutting the bodies to make sure the animals get to them sooner. I’ll catch you up.”

  The other three looked at Luis then at each other. One of them shrugged and set off. A moment later the other two followed.

  “Don’t say anything about these men,” Luis called after them. One of them raised a hand, but Thomas wasn’t sure how long they might have before someone came in search of them.

  “They won’t say anything,” said Luis, no doubt reading his expression. “We look out for each other as best we can.”

  “Are you sure? One of them killed your dog.”

  “No, Kin ran off.”

  “Were you taken before or after they killed your parents?”

  “After. I fought them but was too valuable to kill. They tied me hand and foot and strung me across the back of a mule to bring me here. They’ve beaten me every day since. I want to fight back but dare not.”

  “You have no-one left to lose anymore, not like some of the other men,” Thomas said.

  “There is Dana and Aban,” said Luis. “Jamila and a few others. They are as much family to me as my own parents. It was made clear to me from the first day that they are hostages to my obedience.”

  “How did they know about them? You are no relative.”

  “They know everything.” Luis looked down at the ground and his shoulders stiffened. “I tried to fight them but they killed…” He turned his face away, as if afraid of showing emotion. “They killed them both, and then they took me. I could do nothing. I had to leave them bleeding on the ground…”

  “We buried them,” Thomas said.

  Luis’s lips thinned. “I thank you for that.” He glanced around, put two fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly. A moment later Kin appeared, approaching slowly. “I scared him off. It was either that or kill the others and make a run for it, and I couldn’t do that. I’ve seen what they do when they catch you. What they do to your family.” He looked up at Thomas from where he had knelt to stroke Kin. “Do you want a dog? I can’t keep him, not here. Somebody in camp will only eat him. We don’t get as much food as the regular soldiers.”

  “Why take you at all? If they’re trying to build an army they need the best soldiers. Untrained men can’t fight.”

  “But they can die. That is our role and we know it.”

  “Come with us,” said Jorge, speaking for the first time.

  “They’ll chase us all down and kill you as well, they always do. Nobody escapes.” He nodded his head in the direction of the bodies they had taken to the hilltop. “They know the village my friends live in.
They will take one of them before they kill me. You too. Do you want to die like these two?”

  “Many have tried to kill me in the past,” Thomas said. “Both of the men who lead you have tried and failed. I am a difficult man to kill.”

  “He is,” said Jorge.

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Yes, I do. You have been taken against your will, no doubt beaten, starved, threatened and worse. Those men have leached the will from you, but you don’t have to let them. Come with us and fight back. Your friends are safe, Jamila has taken them to Pampaneira.”

  “Which is where they take everyone. They are less safe there than they were before.” Luis looked between them, his eyes returning to Thomas as the more reliable of the two. “If I come with you and they catch us, will you promise me one thing?”

  “Agreed.”

  “You don’t know what it is yet.”

  “Still agreed,” Thomas said. “And yes, I will kill you before they can take you. It is my promise.”

  Luis stared at him, then clicked his fingers and Kin came close. He stroked the tall dog’s ears, his own face softening. “They’re planning something new, the one they call the Warrior and his father—and it’s big.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  As they made their way south Thomas tried to tease more details from Luis, but the boy knew little other than something was being planned, but not what. Thomas wondered if it was the reason Mandana had been in Pampaneira. Wondered if it was a mistake to return to the town, but he knew Jamila, Dana and Aban had to be taken somewhere else. Somewhere safe.

  They kept away from any tracks, such as they were, in case someone came in search of Luis, which they would eventually. Deserters were not allowed to escape. As far as Luis knew nobody ever had, and Thomas saw that knowledge worried him.

  “If you don’t know what’s planned, how can you be sure there is something?” They had reached a narrow defile between two steeply rising slopes. The vista provided a clear view of the ground falling away to the south, and if anyone was following them they would be seen.

  “Because they’re making preparations.”

  Thomas thought for a moment. “Explain to me what life is like in the camp.”

  “Gruesome.”

  “Other than that. Day-to-day, tell me what happens.”

  So Luis explained how the camp worked. One day in two raiding parties would be sent out. Luis had gone with them twice because he said they were starting to trust him. Each time men were brought back, to be beaten into submission until they did their master’s bidding without question or died.

  “Are you like them?” Jorge interrupted at that point, and Thomas knew why. Luis showed a spark of rebellion, of self-belief at odds with how he told them the captives behaved.

  “I pretend to be like them, and there are others who do the same. We want to meet to discuss escape but can’t for fear of being discovered or betrayed. There are many spies. It is not safe to trust anyone.”

  “How often are men punished as harshly as we witnessed today?” Thomas asked.

  “What you saw is rare. That kind of torture is reserved for those who try to escape and get caught. But punishment is meted out for any infraction, however small.”

  “Tell me, what’s changed that makes you so sure something is being planned?”

  "There’s been more food lately, and the random beatings have stopped. Guerrero and Mandana spend long periods shut away. Everyone knows they’re planning something.” Luis had theories, but they didn’t seem reason enough for what he proposed. Bigger raids would be pointless in this country of small towns and villages. The existing raiding parties would capture just as many men.

  “Who is in command,” Thomas asked. “The father or the son?” He assumed he knew the answer, so was surprised when Luis told him.

  “Guerrero, of course. He listens to the old man, but it is Guerrero who makes all the decisions, Guerrero who leads.”

  “Someone’s coming,” said Jorge who, though listening, had sat at the top of the slope watching the land below.

  “Coming here?”

  “No, down there. A dozen men on horseback. I expect they’re looking for Luis.”

  The youth crawled to the edge and peered over. He watched for some time, then wriggled back.

  “There’s no decent tracker with them,” he said, as he settled beside Thomas again. Kin had stayed at his side the entire time. “They don’t expect anyone to get far, let alone have the wits to go to high ground. They’ll have a note of where they took me from and assume that’s where I’ll go back to.” He raised his eyes to meet Thomas’s. “Where are we going?”

  “I had planned to take you to Pampaneira, where Dana is, and others from her village, but I’ve changed my mind.”

  Luis continued to stare at Thomas. “Then I’ll go alone.” He reached out and stroked Kin.

  “If you do they’ll catch you and take you back. Drag you behind a horse, or worse.”

  “I can look after myself.”

  “I don’t doubt it, but you’ll be going in the direction they’re expecting, so they will catch you. I can’t make you stay with us, and I refuse to make threats. Dana will be safe for now. They’ve only been in Pampaneira a short time, so their names will not yet be recorded. If you stay with me I’ll make sure you get back to your girl.”

  “When?”

  “That I don’t know.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Watch.”

  “Only watch?”

  Thomas raised a shoulder. In truth, he had no clear idea what he intended to do, only that if Guerrero was planning something he needed to know what it was, and the only way of finding out was to watch, and wait.

  “They’ve gone,” said Jorge, from the edge of the narrow cutting.

  “Which way?”

  “South. At least, I think that’s south.” Jorge pointed, and Thomas nodded.

  “They’ll be back. We’ll be long gone from here by then.”

  “Where are we going?” asked Luis.

  Thomas smiled. “Into the wolf’s lair.”

  He had been exaggerating, but not by much. They had crept far closer to the edge of Mandana’s camp than Luis was comfortable with, but he seemed to trust Thomas, and like Jorge. Even so, his unease was clear. He kept Kin at his side, one hand almost constantly stroking the dog’s fur. Darkness had come and the spot they observed from was little more than two hundred paces from the outer line of fires. Close enough to overhear conversation. Thomas crept a little closer to hear them better still, but nothing he overhead hinted at what Guerrero’s plans might be. He doubted anyone but the man himself and his father knew what those were.

  Thomas tried not to think too deeply about what he was doing here, why he was putting all three of them in such danger. He had come to these high mountains in a rage of revenge, but that had eventually faded, as all rages do, to be replaced by a deep emptiness, and an urge to end his pain. He knew why he had not succumbed. The fight for life, even his own life, was too deeply ingrained in him.

  But he wondered why, if he had chosen life, what he was doing so close to a thousand men, any one of whom would take his life without a moment’s regret. He was putting Luis in even more danger.

  Thomas knew his rage had cooled, hardened into something more dangerous to those who had stolen Lubna’s life. He had re-discovered a reason to live, and it sparked a cold thrill through his core. Exactly how he might revenge Lubna he didn’t yet know, only that he couldn’t turn aside until he had.

  When the camp began to settle for the night, Thomas left Luis to keep watch while he and Jorge slipped back to a place of safety to sleep. He wondered about trusting the youth, but knew he couldn’t remain awake all night, and asking him to take the first watch would show his trust. Even so, sleep took a long time to come as he lay awake waiting for soldiers to come.

  When he woke the air had chilled and darkness still cloaked the land. He left Jorge
curled on the ground while he descended to where Luis was when they had left him, except now he was curled around Kin, both of them fast asleep. Thomas didn’t even think of berating him, just left him to continue enjoying his dreams as he sat and watched the glow of fires which had settled into little more than embers. The camp wasn’t silent, no camp ever is, but it had slipped into those deep night hours when a stillness descends. Thomas’s few hours of sleep had left him refreshed, and the internal decisions of the previous day brought a sense of renewal, of purpose. He sat and watched the sky lighten to the east, the darkness between fires gathering substance as it turned deep grey, then a lighter shade. A few men stirred, walked to the edge of the camp to relieve themselves. Others woke. Fires were encouraged into fresh life. And then Guerrero emerged from the tent and Thomas stiffened. He turned and shook Luis, putting fingers across his mouth in case he cried out. He sent him to fetch Jorge, then watched as horses were saddled and a band of fifty men gathered, most on foot—the horses were for their leaders and captains. Only when the group was ready did Mandana emerge to be helped into a saddle. Luis returned with Jorge, and Thomas led them in a wide circle to get ahead of the men, always seeking cover, until they were crouched in a cleft of rock waiting for them to appear.

  Foot soldiers came first, with Guerrero and Mandana protected in the middle of the troop. There were no carts, which told Thomas their journey would be completed before day’s end. He considered where they were and what lay nearby, and an obvious conclusion came to him, though quite what it meant he couldn’t decide.

  Gharnatah lay half a day west. Thomas had grown increasingly convinced that since being captured by the Spanish several years before Muhammed had been working on behalf of them. And as long as he remained Sultan, Gharnatah was doomed.

  “We should go or we’ll lose them,” said Luis. He had become a convert to their cause since his desertion, and there was no more talk of giving himself up or leaving to return home. He had become a part of their small band. For how long was open to question, but Thomas knew Luis would not have to remain with them much longer.