Iron master, p.30
Iron Master, page 30
Oh-oh… what’s all this about?
Glancing sideways, he caught a brief glimpse of the samurai as he dismounted and looped the reins of his horse round the trunk of a sapling about fifteen yards away. The animal, which was between Steve and the rider, blocked off a view of the Jap’s face. Not that it mattered all that much. They all looked alike to Steve, and the rules about when and when not to make eye-contact made it even harder to tell one dink from another.
Steve turned his attention back to the ground and waited, all six senses finely tuned for the samurai’s next move. His eye caught the moving pattern of light and shade as the Jap strode slowly towards him and, cutting across the sound of a moving suit of armour, he heard the faint, chilling swish of a long-sword being drawn from its scabbard.
Ohh, shit…
The shadow cast by the samurai stopped directly in front of him, darkening the grass on either side of his fingers to a deep blood-red.
Steve mentally invoked the name of Talisman but didn’t move a muscle as the ice-cold blade brushed against his right cheek, then slid under his ear. He didn’t need to see it to know that it was sharp side up. After pausing there for a brief, agonising moment, the tip of the blade traced a chilling line across the back of his neck and came to rest under his left ear. He didn’t feel the cut as the blade was withdrawn, just the trickle of blood warming his skin as it flowed down the line of his jaw.
‘So… how’s it going, sport?’
It was the Man in Black. Only this time, he was wearing fancy dress.
Steve was seized by a reckless desire to look up, and an equally pressing need to discover what remained of his left ear, but managed to resist both. His bloodthirsty benefactor was operating on a hair-trigger, and the overall situation was so ill-defined, he could not gamble on being indispensable. The razor-sharp blade now hovering inches from his head served to remind Steve he’d already pushed his luck close to the limit. Easing his nose clear of his thumbs, he began to recount his chance meeting with Cadillac.
‘Louder!’
Steve raised his head a notch, cleared his throat and delivered the rest of his story without further interruption, ending with his offer to help Cadillac produce a suitable power-plant for the flying-horses.
‘And what did he say to that?’
‘He said he’d think about it.’
‘No hard feelings about your, uhh… previous encounter?’
‘None whatsoever. He was quite pleased to see me. Especially now he has the upper hand.’
‘I know the feeling,’ said Toshiro.
Steve watched the armoured feet of his interlocutor describe a semicircle from left shoulder to right then back again, each slow step preceded by the angled tip of his long-sword.
‘The "interests" I represent have given me the go-ahead to insert you into the operation. You are now free to carry out your sabotage mission. But first, before you wreck the Heron Pool project, you have to help make it a success.’
‘Sire, the pleasure will be all mine.’
‘Yes – I thought that might appeal to you. Are you sure you can make these craft work properly?’
‘Once I get my feet under the workbench, I can have one flying under its own steam inside a month.’
‘Good. That’s very important. In fact, your life may depend upon it.’
You’re telling me, thought Steve. ‘May I beg to ask if our original… "understanding" still holds good?’
‘And what was that?’
‘Safe passage out of the country with Cadillac and the Mute woman who came with him – Clearwater.’
‘Ahh, yes, well… that may be difficult to arrange.’
‘I’ll make the arrangements,’ replied Steve. ‘All I need from you is your personal assurance that the "interests" you claim to represent won’t stand in the way.’
The long-dog’s insolent manner continued to amaze and anger Toshiro, but he had now fully mastered the murderous impulse to kill him out of hand. It was deeply wounding to have to treat Brickman as if he were an equal, but those were his orders. For the moment, he was obliged to swallow his pride. If this self-styled ‘mexican’ managed to do what was being demanded of him it would humiliate and confound the Shogun’s enemies and clear the way for Toshiro to gain what he most desired.
‘Very well, you have my word on that. However, there is one other matter you will need to attend to. We require you to arrange the demise of a certain Nakane Toh-Shiba, the Consul-General for this region. He is also, coincidentally, the, ahh… custodian of the second individual you wish to recover.’
That too will be a pleasure, thought Steve. But if you ask me, it’s no coincidence. He was going to have to watch this guy.
‘If you undertake to get rid of him, I will make sure that the woman is delivered to you unharmed. Is it a deal?’
Steve gazed at the samurai’s lacquered toes and weighed up the proposition. For someone normally accorded slave-status to be asked to kill a high-ranking Iron Master was pretty damned extraordinary. Apart from hinting at further intrigues he didn’t know about, it seemed to indicate that the Man in Black and the ‘interests’ he represented had swallowed his story and were prepared to take him seriously. He was back in the game and, now that they’d asked him to do some of their own dirty work, had even acquired a little leverage. When added to the make-and-break assignment at the Heron Pool, it meant he had room to manoeuvre and the time he needed to put his own plans in motion.
Yeah… it was all coming together. But there was no point in going overboard.
‘I feel honoured at being given such a task, but someone in my position is going to find it difficult to even get near a man who, by the sound of it, is a high-ranking official.’
‘Don’t worry, sport. When the time comes, you’ll get all the help you need.’
They were the right words, but they did not have a comforting ring. Steve ached to straighten up, but decided it would be unwise. Better to keep talking to the grass. ‘How soon do you want this to happen?’
A pregnant pause, then: ‘The instructions I have received are quite specific. The Consul-General is to be taken up in a flying-horse. When it has attained the greatest possible height, he is to fall from the sky. His body is to be split and broken like that of a stray mongrel crushed under the wheel of a passing cart. This is the death which has been chosen for him. No other. Is that clear?’
‘Yeah, sure.’ It sounded like a real suicide mission, but this was no time to go weak at the knees. ‘Dumping him overboard is the easy bit. It’s getting him up there that’s going to be the problem. First of all I have to get transferred to the Heron Pool. Once I’m in there I’m pretty sure I can put together a propulsion system. In fact I know I can. And once we’re over that hurdle, it shouldn’t be too hard to persuade Cadillac to let me get involved in the flight testing. So I’ll have access to an aircraft. That’s where it gets difficult. According to Cadillac, the Heron Pool belongs to the local domain-lord–’
‘Lord Kiyo Min-Orota.’
‘Right. Cadillac is in nominal charge of the project, but he’s just a hired hand like the rest of us. It’s Lord Min-Orota’s people who really run the show. I don’t have to tell you what the set-up is, you’re part of it. If I can’t look you in the eyes, they’re not going to let me even breathe the same air as the Consul-General. But okay – let’s assume for the moment they did – how do I persuade him to go for a joyride?’
‘Don’t worry about it, sport. When you’re ready to go, he’ll be there.’
The samurai’s reply confirmed Steve’s hunch about the identity of the man with his finger on the button. There was only one person with sufficient clout to order a Consul-General into the air with an outlander at the controls. The Shogun.
Yeah… better watch out, Stevie, he told himself. You’re back in the game all right, but this is not like trading shots in a Shoot-a-Mute video gallery for a glass of Korngold. You’re at the high-stake table with the big boys. The kind that eat people like you for breakfast…
The fact that the Man in Black had been less than forthcoming about the relationship between Clearwater and the Consul-General was proof that he could not be trusted. ‘Promises to Mutes don’t count.’ Wasn’t that what Karlstrom had said? You could bet your last meal-credit that this overdressed dink felt the same way about Trackers. Yeah… if he was going to get home in one piece he would need more help than Jodi or Kelso could provide. He had to enlist the help of a big gun. And there was one close at hand, eager and willing to be pressed into service.
Clearwater.
She might not be able to move mountains, but she had shown she had the power to rearrange large chunks of the landscape. He had to find a way to get her off that island when the crunch came. With her by his side there would be nothing to fear from Yama-Shita’s boys or from the friends of the Man in Black. At the first sign of danger she would blow them right out of their socks.
The samurai’s voice cut across his machinations. ‘Okay. That about wraps it up.’ His feet disappeared from view, then returned. ‘You’d better have this. I’m sure you’d like to let your friends know what’s happening.’
A slim bundle wrapped in black silk dropped into the grass a few inches from Steve’s forehead. It could only contain one thing – the combat knife with the radio hidden in the handle.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Sure. You can tell them how well you’re doing. We don’t want anyone making a rash move at this stage, do we?’
‘No, I guess not…’
‘That stuff inside the handle. Is it possible to take that out and throw the rest of the knife away?’
‘No. I can’t explain how it works, but the set’s powered by a layer of special crystals sealed into the blade.’
‘Okay. Stow it at the bottom of your mailbag until you can find a better place to hide it.’
‘Thanks,’ said Steve. ‘Any chance of getting my bladed staff back?’ He already knew what the answer would be, but what the hell? It was worth a try.
The question triggered a snort of laughter. ‘Are you crazy? That knife is enough to get you killed in under ten seconds flat. What d’you want to do – hang a sign round your neck?’
‘You’re right. Okay, forget the staff. Just give me back the bundle of pink leaves. I can’t start work at the Heron Pool until I’ve washed this gunk off.’
‘Don’t have ’em on me, sport.’
Steve cursed silently. ‘So when am I going to get them?’
‘When the time’s right.’
‘I’m not going to be able to get into an airplane decked out as a Mute.’
‘I know that.’
‘Okay. How soon can I get a transfer?’
‘I’m working on it.’
This guy’s stringing me along, thought Steve. ‘Are you trying to tell me there’s a problem?’
‘Nothing serious. It’s just that, because of the “interests” I represent, I can’t be seen to intervene directly on your behalf. To do so would compromise your position as a “free agent” – and might even endanger the whole operation. I have to work, ahh… obliquely, through my contacts on the Consul-General’s staff and key officials in the main post-house. It’s they who have to okay the move.’
Terrific… ‘Let’s hope they don’t lose the paperwork. When will we meet again?’
‘When it’s necessary.’
‘Yeah, but time’s–’
‘Don’t worry. I know where to find you. Just stay cool, hang loose and keep trucking.’
Steve heard the curved long-sword whisper its way back into the scabbard, followed by the soft clack of the layered plates of armour as the feet walked away.
Keep trucking… What a nitwit.
Steve watched out of the corner of his eye as the samurai remounted, turned his horse towards him and urged it into a canter. The top half of the Jap’s face was shadowed by the wide-brimmed helmet; the lower half was obscured by a narrow white scarf held in place by the plaited red silk chinstrap. Steve kept his nose close to the ground until the hoofbeats faded, then got up and rubbed the cramp out of his knees.
It had been another instructive encounter, but Steve was in no mood to hang around while the Man in Black inflated his already overblown ego by scoring debating points. Time was running out. Side-Winder’s wheelboat would not be on the Hudson River run for ever and that trip to Bu-faro was a crucial part of the escape plan. If the Man in Black was unwilling or unable to move things along at a high rate of knots then he, Steven Roosevelt Brickman, would have to go it alone.
CHAPTER TWELVE
When Clearwater woke to find Steve kneeling by her pillow, she was neither surprised nor alarmed. Her subconscious mind, which had already registered his presence, inserted his image into the last few seconds of her dream, causing illusion to merge seamlessly with reality. Despite the fears she had expressed at the ronin camp, her mind and body had yearned to be reunited with his – and now, at long last, he was here.
Steve had towelled himself dry before entering the lake-house to avoid leaving any tell-tale tracks, but his skin was still damp and cool to the touch. Clearwater ran her fingers slowly along his arms and shoulders, then cupped his face in her hands and drew his mouth down on hers.
The chemistry was still as potent as ever. The touch of her lips and the warmth of her embrace brought the memories of their one night together flooding back. The desire to possess her, body and soul, and the inexpressible feelings aroused by her nearness overwhelmed his senses, sweeping aside all thoughts of his own safety.
Clearwater too seemed oblivious of the mortal danger he had placed her in. Removing one hand from his neck, she lifted the edge of the silken coverlet and silently invited him to join her beneath it.
Steve was sorely tempted, but managed to cling on to a vestige of self-control. He hadn’t swum across the lake just to fall into her arms. Taking hold of her hand, he gently pulled the coverlet back into place to form a safety barrier, separating his naked body from hers. He knew as surely as the First Family were born to rule that once they touched thighs, skin to skin, he’d forget everything, including his name, rank and number. ‘We have to talk.’
‘Later…’
‘No, now!’ Steve grabbed both her hands to stop them from spoiling his concentration. ‘Don’t do that!’ he hissed.
Clearwater lay back and contented herself with tracing the contours of his face and occasionally stroking his hair.
The last hands to slide below his waist had belonged to Roz, back in Santanna Deep, the previous year. They’d both crashed out through smoking some bad grass, so he wasn’t sure how far things had gone, but he still felt bad about it. Roz had known about Clearwater before he’d got around to telling her, and he had an uneasy feeling that part of her mind was inside his own head right now.
Forgive me, little sister. This is how it has to be…
Steve gave Clearwater a quick rundown on everything that had happened since their midnight meeting at the post-house in front of the mysterious Man in Black, ending on the sake-smiling session with Cadillac.
Except it was not quite everything. He made no mention of his chance meetings with Side-Winder on the dockside at Ari-bani and Jodi Kazan in the cropfield opposite the Heron Pool, and he also kept back his latest head-down encounter with the Shogun’s contact-man. That would come later.
‘Listen, what are we going to do about Cadillac? I tried to reason with him, but he seems determined to stay here. He says he’s got everything he ever wanted. Well… everything except you.’
‘Did he tell you that?’
‘He didn’t need to. Why else would he be hitting the knockout drops? He’s sinking the stuff like there’s no tomorrow.’
‘Did he ask what had happened to me?’
Steve hesitated. ‘He knows where you’re being held and who by but, uhh…’
‘Did he say anything else?’
Steve chose his words carefully, ‘Not very much. He, uhh… seems to think you can take care of yourself. But maybe that was just to get back at me.’ He shrugged. ‘Let’s face it. Like I said to him, if I hadn’t come along–’
‘But you did. And it was meant to be. Cadillac knows that too. He read it in the seeing-stones.’
‘Maybe he did. But he still needs something to help kill the pain.’
‘The pain was there from the moment you left us. And it is a pain that I share, for I have no wish to make him suffer. But even if we had been allowed to stay together I would have been of little comfort. Our life-threads are no longer as closely entwined as they once were. One day he will understand why all this has happened. And so will you.’
‘Yeah, well… I’m sure you’re right. But I have to deal with Cadillac as he is here and now. He may not be hostile, but as long as he’s within reach of a bottle he’s going to be unpredictable.’
‘So what are you going to do?’
‘At the moment, that’s up to Cadillac. He told me he’d run into a few problems building an engine, so… I offered to help him out. Listen, it’s a start. If I can get close to him, maybe I can talk him round. Between you and me, I don’t want to stay here a day longer than I have to, but it’s gonna make life a lot simpler if he goes quietly.’
‘What was his answer?’
‘Well, he didn’t say “yes”, but on the other hand he didn’t say “no”. Despite everything that’s happened he still seems eager to pick my brains.’ Steve gave a low, husky laugh. ‘By that I mean the few bits he hasn’t picked already.’
‘Are you angry about that?’
‘Nnnaahhh… it makes things more interesting. Thing is, I was hoping you’d be together so that you could, y’know – persuade him. Make him see sense. But…’
‘He no longer listens to me. He is ruled by the demons inside his head.’
‘Yeah…’ We all have them, thought Steve. Perhaps even you have a darker side that I don’t yet know about. This… thing that binds us together, this feeling I find so hard to control – where will it lead? Will it give us the strength to go all the way to the top – or will it destroy us both?
Glancing sideways, he caught a brief glimpse of the samurai as he dismounted and looped the reins of his horse round the trunk of a sapling about fifteen yards away. The animal, which was between Steve and the rider, blocked off a view of the Jap’s face. Not that it mattered all that much. They all looked alike to Steve, and the rules about when and when not to make eye-contact made it even harder to tell one dink from another.
Steve turned his attention back to the ground and waited, all six senses finely tuned for the samurai’s next move. His eye caught the moving pattern of light and shade as the Jap strode slowly towards him and, cutting across the sound of a moving suit of armour, he heard the faint, chilling swish of a long-sword being drawn from its scabbard.
Ohh, shit…
The shadow cast by the samurai stopped directly in front of him, darkening the grass on either side of his fingers to a deep blood-red.
Steve mentally invoked the name of Talisman but didn’t move a muscle as the ice-cold blade brushed against his right cheek, then slid under his ear. He didn’t need to see it to know that it was sharp side up. After pausing there for a brief, agonising moment, the tip of the blade traced a chilling line across the back of his neck and came to rest under his left ear. He didn’t feel the cut as the blade was withdrawn, just the trickle of blood warming his skin as it flowed down the line of his jaw.
‘So… how’s it going, sport?’
It was the Man in Black. Only this time, he was wearing fancy dress.
Steve was seized by a reckless desire to look up, and an equally pressing need to discover what remained of his left ear, but managed to resist both. His bloodthirsty benefactor was operating on a hair-trigger, and the overall situation was so ill-defined, he could not gamble on being indispensable. The razor-sharp blade now hovering inches from his head served to remind Steve he’d already pushed his luck close to the limit. Easing his nose clear of his thumbs, he began to recount his chance meeting with Cadillac.
‘Louder!’
Steve raised his head a notch, cleared his throat and delivered the rest of his story without further interruption, ending with his offer to help Cadillac produce a suitable power-plant for the flying-horses.
‘And what did he say to that?’
‘He said he’d think about it.’
‘No hard feelings about your, uhh… previous encounter?’
‘None whatsoever. He was quite pleased to see me. Especially now he has the upper hand.’
‘I know the feeling,’ said Toshiro.
Steve watched the armoured feet of his interlocutor describe a semicircle from left shoulder to right then back again, each slow step preceded by the angled tip of his long-sword.
‘The "interests" I represent have given me the go-ahead to insert you into the operation. You are now free to carry out your sabotage mission. But first, before you wreck the Heron Pool project, you have to help make it a success.’
‘Sire, the pleasure will be all mine.’
‘Yes – I thought that might appeal to you. Are you sure you can make these craft work properly?’
‘Once I get my feet under the workbench, I can have one flying under its own steam inside a month.’
‘Good. That’s very important. In fact, your life may depend upon it.’
You’re telling me, thought Steve. ‘May I beg to ask if our original… "understanding" still holds good?’
‘And what was that?’
‘Safe passage out of the country with Cadillac and the Mute woman who came with him – Clearwater.’
‘Ahh, yes, well… that may be difficult to arrange.’
‘I’ll make the arrangements,’ replied Steve. ‘All I need from you is your personal assurance that the "interests" you claim to represent won’t stand in the way.’
The long-dog’s insolent manner continued to amaze and anger Toshiro, but he had now fully mastered the murderous impulse to kill him out of hand. It was deeply wounding to have to treat Brickman as if he were an equal, but those were his orders. For the moment, he was obliged to swallow his pride. If this self-styled ‘mexican’ managed to do what was being demanded of him it would humiliate and confound the Shogun’s enemies and clear the way for Toshiro to gain what he most desired.
‘Very well, you have my word on that. However, there is one other matter you will need to attend to. We require you to arrange the demise of a certain Nakane Toh-Shiba, the Consul-General for this region. He is also, coincidentally, the, ahh… custodian of the second individual you wish to recover.’
That too will be a pleasure, thought Steve. But if you ask me, it’s no coincidence. He was going to have to watch this guy.
‘If you undertake to get rid of him, I will make sure that the woman is delivered to you unharmed. Is it a deal?’
Steve gazed at the samurai’s lacquered toes and weighed up the proposition. For someone normally accorded slave-status to be asked to kill a high-ranking Iron Master was pretty damned extraordinary. Apart from hinting at further intrigues he didn’t know about, it seemed to indicate that the Man in Black and the ‘interests’ he represented had swallowed his story and were prepared to take him seriously. He was back in the game and, now that they’d asked him to do some of their own dirty work, had even acquired a little leverage. When added to the make-and-break assignment at the Heron Pool, it meant he had room to manoeuvre and the time he needed to put his own plans in motion.
Yeah… it was all coming together. But there was no point in going overboard.
‘I feel honoured at being given such a task, but someone in my position is going to find it difficult to even get near a man who, by the sound of it, is a high-ranking official.’
‘Don’t worry, sport. When the time comes, you’ll get all the help you need.’
They were the right words, but they did not have a comforting ring. Steve ached to straighten up, but decided it would be unwise. Better to keep talking to the grass. ‘How soon do you want this to happen?’
A pregnant pause, then: ‘The instructions I have received are quite specific. The Consul-General is to be taken up in a flying-horse. When it has attained the greatest possible height, he is to fall from the sky. His body is to be split and broken like that of a stray mongrel crushed under the wheel of a passing cart. This is the death which has been chosen for him. No other. Is that clear?’
‘Yeah, sure.’ It sounded like a real suicide mission, but this was no time to go weak at the knees. ‘Dumping him overboard is the easy bit. It’s getting him up there that’s going to be the problem. First of all I have to get transferred to the Heron Pool. Once I’m in there I’m pretty sure I can put together a propulsion system. In fact I know I can. And once we’re over that hurdle, it shouldn’t be too hard to persuade Cadillac to let me get involved in the flight testing. So I’ll have access to an aircraft. That’s where it gets difficult. According to Cadillac, the Heron Pool belongs to the local domain-lord–’
‘Lord Kiyo Min-Orota.’
‘Right. Cadillac is in nominal charge of the project, but he’s just a hired hand like the rest of us. It’s Lord Min-Orota’s people who really run the show. I don’t have to tell you what the set-up is, you’re part of it. If I can’t look you in the eyes, they’re not going to let me even breathe the same air as the Consul-General. But okay – let’s assume for the moment they did – how do I persuade him to go for a joyride?’
‘Don’t worry about it, sport. When you’re ready to go, he’ll be there.’
The samurai’s reply confirmed Steve’s hunch about the identity of the man with his finger on the button. There was only one person with sufficient clout to order a Consul-General into the air with an outlander at the controls. The Shogun.
Yeah… better watch out, Stevie, he told himself. You’re back in the game all right, but this is not like trading shots in a Shoot-a-Mute video gallery for a glass of Korngold. You’re at the high-stake table with the big boys. The kind that eat people like you for breakfast…
The fact that the Man in Black had been less than forthcoming about the relationship between Clearwater and the Consul-General was proof that he could not be trusted. ‘Promises to Mutes don’t count.’ Wasn’t that what Karlstrom had said? You could bet your last meal-credit that this overdressed dink felt the same way about Trackers. Yeah… if he was going to get home in one piece he would need more help than Jodi or Kelso could provide. He had to enlist the help of a big gun. And there was one close at hand, eager and willing to be pressed into service.
Clearwater.
She might not be able to move mountains, but she had shown she had the power to rearrange large chunks of the landscape. He had to find a way to get her off that island when the crunch came. With her by his side there would be nothing to fear from Yama-Shita’s boys or from the friends of the Man in Black. At the first sign of danger she would blow them right out of their socks.
The samurai’s voice cut across his machinations. ‘Okay. That about wraps it up.’ His feet disappeared from view, then returned. ‘You’d better have this. I’m sure you’d like to let your friends know what’s happening.’
A slim bundle wrapped in black silk dropped into the grass a few inches from Steve’s forehead. It could only contain one thing – the combat knife with the radio hidden in the handle.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Sure. You can tell them how well you’re doing. We don’t want anyone making a rash move at this stage, do we?’
‘No, I guess not…’
‘That stuff inside the handle. Is it possible to take that out and throw the rest of the knife away?’
‘No. I can’t explain how it works, but the set’s powered by a layer of special crystals sealed into the blade.’
‘Okay. Stow it at the bottom of your mailbag until you can find a better place to hide it.’
‘Thanks,’ said Steve. ‘Any chance of getting my bladed staff back?’ He already knew what the answer would be, but what the hell? It was worth a try.
The question triggered a snort of laughter. ‘Are you crazy? That knife is enough to get you killed in under ten seconds flat. What d’you want to do – hang a sign round your neck?’
‘You’re right. Okay, forget the staff. Just give me back the bundle of pink leaves. I can’t start work at the Heron Pool until I’ve washed this gunk off.’
‘Don’t have ’em on me, sport.’
Steve cursed silently. ‘So when am I going to get them?’
‘When the time’s right.’
‘I’m not going to be able to get into an airplane decked out as a Mute.’
‘I know that.’
‘Okay. How soon can I get a transfer?’
‘I’m working on it.’
This guy’s stringing me along, thought Steve. ‘Are you trying to tell me there’s a problem?’
‘Nothing serious. It’s just that, because of the “interests” I represent, I can’t be seen to intervene directly on your behalf. To do so would compromise your position as a “free agent” – and might even endanger the whole operation. I have to work, ahh… obliquely, through my contacts on the Consul-General’s staff and key officials in the main post-house. It’s they who have to okay the move.’
Terrific… ‘Let’s hope they don’t lose the paperwork. When will we meet again?’
‘When it’s necessary.’
‘Yeah, but time’s–’
‘Don’t worry. I know where to find you. Just stay cool, hang loose and keep trucking.’
Steve heard the curved long-sword whisper its way back into the scabbard, followed by the soft clack of the layered plates of armour as the feet walked away.
Keep trucking… What a nitwit.
Steve watched out of the corner of his eye as the samurai remounted, turned his horse towards him and urged it into a canter. The top half of the Jap’s face was shadowed by the wide-brimmed helmet; the lower half was obscured by a narrow white scarf held in place by the plaited red silk chinstrap. Steve kept his nose close to the ground until the hoofbeats faded, then got up and rubbed the cramp out of his knees.
It had been another instructive encounter, but Steve was in no mood to hang around while the Man in Black inflated his already overblown ego by scoring debating points. Time was running out. Side-Winder’s wheelboat would not be on the Hudson River run for ever and that trip to Bu-faro was a crucial part of the escape plan. If the Man in Black was unwilling or unable to move things along at a high rate of knots then he, Steven Roosevelt Brickman, would have to go it alone.
CHAPTER TWELVE
When Clearwater woke to find Steve kneeling by her pillow, she was neither surprised nor alarmed. Her subconscious mind, which had already registered his presence, inserted his image into the last few seconds of her dream, causing illusion to merge seamlessly with reality. Despite the fears she had expressed at the ronin camp, her mind and body had yearned to be reunited with his – and now, at long last, he was here.
Steve had towelled himself dry before entering the lake-house to avoid leaving any tell-tale tracks, but his skin was still damp and cool to the touch. Clearwater ran her fingers slowly along his arms and shoulders, then cupped his face in her hands and drew his mouth down on hers.
The chemistry was still as potent as ever. The touch of her lips and the warmth of her embrace brought the memories of their one night together flooding back. The desire to possess her, body and soul, and the inexpressible feelings aroused by her nearness overwhelmed his senses, sweeping aside all thoughts of his own safety.
Clearwater too seemed oblivious of the mortal danger he had placed her in. Removing one hand from his neck, she lifted the edge of the silken coverlet and silently invited him to join her beneath it.
Steve was sorely tempted, but managed to cling on to a vestige of self-control. He hadn’t swum across the lake just to fall into her arms. Taking hold of her hand, he gently pulled the coverlet back into place to form a safety barrier, separating his naked body from hers. He knew as surely as the First Family were born to rule that once they touched thighs, skin to skin, he’d forget everything, including his name, rank and number. ‘We have to talk.’
‘Later…’
‘No, now!’ Steve grabbed both her hands to stop them from spoiling his concentration. ‘Don’t do that!’ he hissed.
Clearwater lay back and contented herself with tracing the contours of his face and occasionally stroking his hair.
The last hands to slide below his waist had belonged to Roz, back in Santanna Deep, the previous year. They’d both crashed out through smoking some bad grass, so he wasn’t sure how far things had gone, but he still felt bad about it. Roz had known about Clearwater before he’d got around to telling her, and he had an uneasy feeling that part of her mind was inside his own head right now.
Forgive me, little sister. This is how it has to be…
Steve gave Clearwater a quick rundown on everything that had happened since their midnight meeting at the post-house in front of the mysterious Man in Black, ending on the sake-smiling session with Cadillac.
Except it was not quite everything. He made no mention of his chance meetings with Side-Winder on the dockside at Ari-bani and Jodi Kazan in the cropfield opposite the Heron Pool, and he also kept back his latest head-down encounter with the Shogun’s contact-man. That would come later.
‘Listen, what are we going to do about Cadillac? I tried to reason with him, but he seems determined to stay here. He says he’s got everything he ever wanted. Well… everything except you.’
‘Did he tell you that?’
‘He didn’t need to. Why else would he be hitting the knockout drops? He’s sinking the stuff like there’s no tomorrow.’
‘Did he ask what had happened to me?’
Steve hesitated. ‘He knows where you’re being held and who by but, uhh…’
‘Did he say anything else?’
Steve chose his words carefully, ‘Not very much. He, uhh… seems to think you can take care of yourself. But maybe that was just to get back at me.’ He shrugged. ‘Let’s face it. Like I said to him, if I hadn’t come along–’
‘But you did. And it was meant to be. Cadillac knows that too. He read it in the seeing-stones.’
‘Maybe he did. But he still needs something to help kill the pain.’
‘The pain was there from the moment you left us. And it is a pain that I share, for I have no wish to make him suffer. But even if we had been allowed to stay together I would have been of little comfort. Our life-threads are no longer as closely entwined as they once were. One day he will understand why all this has happened. And so will you.’
‘Yeah, well… I’m sure you’re right. But I have to deal with Cadillac as he is here and now. He may not be hostile, but as long as he’s within reach of a bottle he’s going to be unpredictable.’
‘So what are you going to do?’
‘At the moment, that’s up to Cadillac. He told me he’d run into a few problems building an engine, so… I offered to help him out. Listen, it’s a start. If I can get close to him, maybe I can talk him round. Between you and me, I don’t want to stay here a day longer than I have to, but it’s gonna make life a lot simpler if he goes quietly.’
‘What was his answer?’
‘Well, he didn’t say “yes”, but on the other hand he didn’t say “no”. Despite everything that’s happened he still seems eager to pick my brains.’ Steve gave a low, husky laugh. ‘By that I mean the few bits he hasn’t picked already.’
‘Are you angry about that?’
‘Nnnaahhh… it makes things more interesting. Thing is, I was hoping you’d be together so that you could, y’know – persuade him. Make him see sense. But…’
‘He no longer listens to me. He is ruled by the demons inside his head.’
‘Yeah…’ We all have them, thought Steve. Perhaps even you have a darker side that I don’t yet know about. This… thing that binds us together, this feeling I find so hard to control – where will it lead? Will it give us the strength to go all the way to the top – or will it destroy us both?
