Текст книги "Tiger Prince "
Автор книги: Iris Johansen
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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 28 страниц)
The pounding at the bungalow door jerked Jane from sleep. It was the middle of the night. Who could be—
The pounding sounded again, louder.
She hastily threw a robe over her white cotton nightgown, ran to the front door, and flung it open.
Ruel and Li Sung stood on the porch.
"What are you doing here?" Jane whispered. She glanced anxiously over her shoulder, but the knocking had evidently not disturbed Patrick. Her gaze flew back to Li Sung. "What's wrong. Why aren't you at the temple?"
"He wanted to see you." Ruel made a face. "And made his desire known at the top of his voice. It was a question of being thrown out of the hotel or bringing him here."
"What was he doing at the hotel?"
"A wee drop," Li Sung murmured. He swayed and his knees gave way.
Ruel caught him and leaned him against the doorjamb.
"He's drunk," Jane said blankly. "Li Sung never drinks."
"A wee drop . . ." Li Sung's eyes closed.
"Now he wants to sleep," Ruel said in disgust. "He was wide awake and noisy as the devil at the hotel."
"You got him drunk," she accused Ruel.
"Aye, it seemed a good idea at the time." Ruel shifted his hold. "Is there a place here he can sleep, or do I have to drag him back to the hotel?"
"The veranda." She stepped aside and watched him half carry, half drag Li Sung across the room toward the french doors. "Why was it a good idea?"
"Do you think I set out to corrupt your virtuous friend?" He dropped him on the couch, snatched up a pillow, and put it under his head. "If I did, you can bet it won't happen again. After the second drink he insisted on shouting Chinese proverbs at the top of his voice."
"Why was it a good idea?" Jane repeated. "And why was he at your hotel and not at the temple?"
"We ran into each other outside Zabrie's, and I invited him back to have a drink."
"Zabrie!" Her gaze went to Li Sung, who was now curled on his side, sleeping peacefully. "And what were you doing outside– You followed him?"
"I was just out for a stroll."
"You followed him."
"He's crippled and I didn't like the idea of Pachtal– Dammit, how do I know why I did it? I seem to be acting on impulse more often than not these days." He picked up a cashmere throw from the chair and tossed it over Li Sung. "You don't have to worry about him going back to Zabrie's. She went straight from Li Sung to Abdar at Savitsar Palace. After which our friend here felt the need of a bit of comforting oblivion."
"I see." She felt the tears sting her eyes as she looked at Li Sung. "I should never have meddled. She hurt him."
"He said she also made him feel like a giant. You have to take the bitter with the sweet."
She swallowed. "Thank you for caring for him. It was very kind."
"I'm not kind. I told you, it was an impulse that I—" He stopped and then said gruffly, "I don't like to see you worried and unhappy. It bothered me."
She gazed at him in bewilderment. "How strange."
"I thought so too," he said testily. "And there's something else. I've been doing a bit of thinking since this afternoon—" He stopped and then said in a rush, "Oh, what the hell, there's no other way to say it. I've decided I want to marry you."
She stared at him in shock. She didn't think she had heard him correctly. "I beg your pardon."
"Not right away. It's going to be a few years before I can offer you anything but the chance to watch me slave myself half to death. But when I have the mine working and the money starts rolling in . . ." He grimaced. "God knows when that will be. I may be asking you to wait as long as Ian has for Margaret."
She shook her head dazedly. "I don't understand this."
"Ian says I want a home. He says I need . . ." He shrugged. "Maybe he's right. What's a home without a wife?"
"And that's why you want me?"
"Not altogether. I ... feel something for you."
"Lust."
"No, something else."
"Guilt."
"No." He suddenly burst out, "Why do you keep asking me questions? I don't want you to leave me. I want to take care of you." His tone became brusque. "But it wouldn't be a bad proposition for you. I'd make sure you had everything you wanted and wouldn't ask anything except that you occupy my bed and eventually give me a child. Does that sound reasonable?"
"Very reasonable." She felt totally confused. She had never expected this, never even imagined it could happen. Marriage. Ruel. It would be like being wed to a warlock "More reasonable than the idea of you wanting to marry me."
"Well, what do you say?"
She drew a deep breath and shook her head. "No, thank you."
"Why not?" He said quickly before she could reply, "I know we started out wrong, but I can make it right. I respect you and, though you may not admire me, you respect me too."
"I couldn't trust you."
"You'd learn to trust me. I don't betray my friends, and in time you'd find that out."
"The railroad ..."
"I'd take care of your Patrick too."
"Patrick doesn't need taking care of," she said quickly. "And even if he did . . . I'd hate the life you've offered me. Can't you see? I'm not the kind of woman you'd want for a wife." She added flatly, "And you're not what I want either."
A flicker of emotion crossed his face, and for a moment she thought she had hurt him. She would have sworn the Ruel she knew could never be hurt by her, but this strange new Ruel was more vulnerable. No, she must have been mistaken, for he was smiling with his usual mockery.
"I beg to disagree. There are portions of my person you still want very much."
She stiffened. "You're wrong."
"I'm not wrong. Do you think I don't feel it too? It's there all the time between us." His awkwardness was abruptly gone and she was suddenly, vibrantly aware of him. And that was what he wanted, she realized with trepidation. In the wink of an eye he had changed into the sensual mandarin of those days before they had come together in the railway car and she could feel the magnetism he was exerting as if it were a tangible entity.
"You'll find I'm always obliging when it comes to giving a lady what she wants." He turned and moved toward the french doors. "And, as I definitely want to stake a claim before we part ways, I can see I'll have to make an attempt to remind you of just what we've both been missing. Expect me for dinner tomorrow night."
"No, I don't want you to—"
"Expect me." He looked back at her, his gaze running over her loose, shabby cotton robe. "I've never seen you in a nightgown before." He frowned. "If you can call that garment a nightgown. Someday I'm going to see you in something more womanly."
He left the veranda and a moment later she heard the front door close behind him.
"Go away, Ruel," she said as soon as she opened the door of the bungalow the next evening. "I told you not to come. I don't want you here."
His brows lifted. "I take it dinner's not ready?" He took off his wet slicker and dropped it on the porch beside the door. He was dressed more formally than she had ever seen him, in a dark brown suit, crisp white shirt, and black cravat at his throat. The light from the | porch lantern played on the polished sheen of his black boots and the brilliant tawny streaks in his brown hair. His unexpected elegance caught her off guard and made her awkwardly aware of her own rough clothing.
There was no reason for her to feel defensive, she told herself. He was the intruder here. "Go away."
"Well, if you refuse to feed me, I'll just come in and have a word with Patrick. Is he on the veranda?"
"He's gone to bed."
"Already? It's barely eight-thirty. Didn't he object to you rushing him through dinner and whisking him off to
bed?"
"I didn't—" She stopped as she met his knowing gaze. "What if I did? I didn't want you here and you've made sure Patrick thinks you're his friend. You have no need to talk to him."
"Oh, but I do. I intend to ask for his daughter's hand." He snapped his fingers. "But then, that would confuse him, wouldn't it? He won't admit he has a daughter."
"You're not serious?"
"Of course I'm serious. Since I'm walking the path of virtue, I want to observe all the proper forms. He can't be asleep yet. I'll just go in and—"
"No!" She drew a deep breath. "This is foolishness and I won't have you bothering Patrick."
He suddenly gave in. "Very well."
She started to swing the door shut.
"If you'll come and walk out with me."
"Walk out?"
"At home in Glenclaren it's the custom for an affianced couple to walk out together in the evening. Properly chaperoned, of course."
"I have no desire to 'walk out' with you."
"Then I'll be forced to come in and have my talk with Patrick. I believe he'll give his consent to the match. As you say, he has a liking for me."
He was clearly not to be swayed. "It's raining," she said weakly.
"All right, I'll be satisfied with sitting with you on the veranda." His brows lifted. "Providing Li Sung has vacated the couch."
"He went back to the temple early this morning." She gazed at him in frustration. He was smiling, but she could sense both recklessness and implacable resolution beneath that glittering exterior. She threw open the door and turned on her heel. "Very well, ten minutes."
"Yes, memsahib." He followed her across the room toward the open french doors. "You see how obedient I am? Obeying your every wish, trailing at your heels like your faithful dog, Sam."
"Sam doesn't trail at my heels." She sat down on the cushioned rattan couch. "Even he has too much sense for that."
"A remark aimed at me?" He sat down beside her. "But I'm not so favored as Sam. I've trespassed and must exhibit the proper show of humility."
"You?"
He chuckled. "I agree the idea is foreign to me, but I'm trying to make an adjustment. Give me your hand."
"Why?"
"I want to hold it. I'm sure even Ian and his Margaret hold hands. It's a proper courting procedure."
"We're not courting."
"Of course we are." He took her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. "I thought I'd made that clear. No, don't jerk away from me. I'm only holding your hand." His tone was soothing. "We'll just sit here and make conversation and listen to the rain."
Her muscles were tensed and she had to force herself to sit still. She was acutely conscious of his shoulder touching hers, their locked hands.
"Relax. I'm no threat to you. Actually, I'm trying to show you how tame I can be."
If she hadn't been so tense, she would have laughed aloud. He was no more tame than the winds preceding a typhoon.
She tried to ignore the heat beginning to spread from the hand he was holding to her wrist and upper arm. "You seem to know a great deal about courting customs in Glenclaren."
"Only from hearsay. I was a wild lad and never had the patience for any of the more proper traditions."
And the mandarin would have no need of patience. He would charm and issue a siren call and everything and everyone would come to him. She moistened her lips. "Is Glenclaren far from—"
"I don't want to talk about Glenclaren. It's a dank, depressing place." He turned and smiled at her. "And didn't suit me at all. It wouldn't suit you either. Once we're wed, we'll live on Cinnidar."
Exasperated, she sought a less personal subject to distract him. "How did you find your Cinnidar?"
"I was on a ship bound from Australia to Africa that put in at Cinnidar to take on food and water. When the ship left, I stayed on."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "I ... liked it. I felt—" He stopped, searching for words. "It called to me."
"Is it beautiful?"
"I suppose it is." He thought about it. "Yes, Cinnidar is beautiful."
"But that's not why you liked it."
"The moment I saw it I knew it was going to belong to me. I felt it." He turned her hand over and idly traced patterns in her palm with his index finger. "And since it was obviously meant to be mine, I couldn't see why fate wouldn't furbish the island with what I loved most."
She chuckled. "Gold."
He nodded. "I had to go and see. There's a trail down the canyon wall, but it was blocked with stones I had to crawl over, and after I reached the canyon floor it took me three weeks to make my way through the jungle and get to the mountain. A few times I didn't think I'd make it. But when I got there . . ." His face lit with eagerness. "Veins, not pockets of gold. Rich wide veins . . . Even the streams were full of nuggets. I could reach down and pick up a nugget as big as a goose egg."
"Did you gather them to take with you?"
He shook his head. "Word of a strike would have gotten out, and Cinnidar had to be legally mine before that happened. So I went back to the port ragged and half starved with nothing but my hands in my pockets and told everyone I'd never made it past the canyon. I shipped out on the next boat that put into port and went to the gold fields in Jaylenburg. It took me three years and two gold fields, but I finally made a big enough strike to provide me with enough money to buy Cinnidar from the maharajah."
Three years of staggering work and deprivation and all for Cinnidar, she thought. "And now you're going back."
"Yes, I'll send for you as soon as—" He stopped as he saw her expression. "It will happen, Jane." He reached out and touched a tendril of hair at her temple. "I've never seen you with your hair loose. I want to see it flowing about your shoulders. I wanted to unbraid it when we were in the railway coach but I was hurting so bad I couldn't wait."
She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, suffusing her throat and breasts.
"I could do it now," Ruel said softly. His index finger rubbed slowly back and forth on her palm, and a tingle ran up her arm. "I could do anything you want me to do. Patrick's asleep and wouldn't bother us. I could close the doors and—"
"No," she whispered. Sweet Mary, her breasts were swelling, pushing against the material of her shirt. Let him not notice. But he probably did know, she realized in despair. He seemed to know how to trigger her every response.
"Do you remember the maharajah's painting? There are so many ways of pleasure, and I want to show you all of them."
She couldn't get her breath and was beginning to tremble as she had that day in the railroad car. She suddenly knew she wanted to kneel down like the woman in the painting, to obey him blindly, to do anything he wanted of her.
She was acutely aware of the faint scent of soap surrounding him, the tiny jolts of sensation as his finger rubbed her palm, the sound of the rain on the thatched roof of the bungalow.
Like the sound of the rain on the maharajah's railway car . . .
"But this is different," he said as if he had read her mind. "I'm not trying to seduce you."
"Aren't you?"
"I want only to show you that you need me as much as I—God, that's not true." He laughed desperately.
"That's how it started, but now I don't give a damn about showing you how tame and respectable I could be."
She should pull away, but she couldn't seem to move. "Let me go," she whispered.
His grasp tightened for a brief instant, and then he slowly released her hand. "You see how good I'm being? I didn't want to let you go." He stood up and strode toward the door. "But I'm keeping my promise. The ten minutes are up and I'm leaving." He paused at the french doors to glance back at her. "But it's not over, and you're not going to get rid of me. I'm staying here in Kasanpore until you and Patrick leave."
"That would be a waste of time. I'm not going to change my mind. And what about your Cinnidar?"
"I've worked and waited years for Cinnidar. I can wait a little longer." He smiled. "You're worth it, Jane Barnaby."
The locomotive was already spouting steam, the head lanterns blazing when Ruel bounded into the cab.
"Kartauk?" Jane asked.
"Safely ensconced at Lanpur Gorge." He grinned. "We rigged a lean-to shelter of sorts for him on the embankment, but he was still swearing because he has to wait in the rain for us. I had to assure him Scotland has no monsoons."
She braced herself against the blast of energy Ruel exuded as he stood smiling at her. After a near sleepless night she had told herself she was ready to withstand that magnetism, but it came as a fresh shock. The rain-wet brown slicker he wore was no more glossy than his tawny-streaked hair, and he glowed with the same brilliant beauty as the lanterns on the front of the locomotive. She had an almost irresistible urge to step forward and touch him.
She glanced quickly away from him. "Ian arrived a quarter of an hour ago. He's in the maharajah's car. He said he planned on napping in splendor while we labored. Why are you late?"
"I paid a visit to the palace and requested an audience with Abdar."
Jane's eyes swung back to him. "What?"
He grinned. "And was told by a servant that His Highness had left this morning to go to Narinth." He turned to Li Sung, who was sitting in the engineer's seat. "It seems your misdirection was successful."
"So it would appear," Li Sung said without expression. "But appearances sometimes lie. Who is to know if Abdar did not guess at the deception and is waiting to ambush us somewhere along the track?"
"Very true." Ruel looked at the engine controls. "Are you sure you know how to drive this monster of a locomotive?"
"My father taught me as a boy and I ran supplies up and down the line in Salisbury." He stiffened. "Of course Patrick never considered a Chinese good enough to engineer a passenger train. Perhaps you agree and would prefer to try yourself?"
"No, thank you. I'll be happy to labor at your command."
"An unusual attittude for a white." Li Sung smiled faintly. "I feel quite giddy with delight. We Chinese are not unaccustomed to being allowed such power over round eyes."
"It's time we left." Jane told Ruel, "You can stoke the boiler. I'm going to have to be on the lookout for hazards on the track." She signaled to Li Sung, and a moment later the locomotive pulled out of the station. "Patrick said the tracks were clear all the way to Narinth when he inspected them yesterday, but that doesn't mean something might not have happened in the meantime."
They were forced to stop twice before they reached Sikor Gorge, once to clear a fallen tree from the track, the second time to shoo a water buffalo who stood placidly chewing grass half on, half off the rails.
They slowed as they crossed Sikor Gorge, but once over the raging river Li Sung picked up speed and the locomotive glided smoothly over the tracks.
"Lanpur Gorge is just ahead around the bend," Jane said. "Be on the lookout for Kartauk."
"In this rain he can see the train's lights better than we can see him." Ruel moved over to stand beside her at the window. Through the heavy rain he could catch only glimpses of the yellowish gleam of the Zastu as the train started over Lanpur Bridge. "And you can be sure Kartauk is going to be ready to get out of this rain and jump on board as soon as we slow– What's that?"
Jane heard it too and her heart lurched. "Li Sung!"
"I know." Li Sung's voice was hoarse as he put on more power. "It's only three cars. The thrust may get us across before—"
The locomotive tilted, ground to a halt, jerked side-wise like a snake switching its tail.
"What the hell is happening?" Ruel asked.
"One of the back cars is off the tracks," Jane said. She felt as if the blood were freezing in her veins.
"Abdar!" Ruel swore beneath his breath.
The train jerked again and the cab was suddenly swaying.
"Get her out!" Li Sung snapped to Ruel as he applied the brakes. "The cab's off the track too. I think it's going over."
"Christ!" Ruel picked Jane up and leapt for the side of the track. They hit the bridge with bruising impact and rolled over and over.
The wooden bridge was vibrating beneath them, and between the ties Jane could glimpse the rushing water sixty feet below. This couldn't be happening, she thought frantically. Dear God, why?
"Li Sung!" Jane screamed.
She saw Li Sung at the door of the cab. An instant later he jumped.
Her relief vanished when Li Sung's bad leg folded beneath him as he hit the track. He fell, slipping toward the edge of the bridge.
Ruel muttered something beneath his breath, rolled over, and grabbed Li Sung's left arm at the moment he slid over the side. "Help me," he grated to Li Sung, the muscles of his upper arms distended with strain as he supported the man's weight. "Give me your other hand too."
"No, let me." Jane was immediately beside him, grabbing the hand Li Sung extended. Together they managed to pull him back on the bridge.
"Run!" Ruel leapt to his feet. "Get to the embankment." He whirled away from them. "I have to go see what—" He broke off as he saw the last car, the maharajah's car, teetering back and forth, its sheer weight causing it to seesaw off the bridge and tip toward the gorge. "Ian!"
Ian was in the maharajah's car, Jane remembered in horror. Why hadn't he jumped? She knew less than a minute had passed since she had jumped from the cab, but it seemed an eternity.
"Get off this damn bridge!" Ruel grabbed Jane's arm and pushed her forward toward the safety of the embankment a few yards away.
The heavy door of the maharajah's car was jerked open. Ian stood in the doorway, a bewildered expression on his face. His forehead was bleeding. "Ruel!"
"Ian! Jump!" Ruel ran along the bridge toward the maharajah's car. The bridge was vibrating, the ties spreading like teeth in a gaping, screaming mouth.
Another sound, even more ominous, a creaking of metal on metal. The bridge jerked, throwing Jane to the ground. Her panicky gaze flew back to the maharajah's car. Ruel had also been thrown to his knees a few yards before he reached the car. As she watched, Ian catapulted back into the car as it fell off the bridge and hung over the abyss suspended only by the coupling link to the two cars still on the track. God, let it hold, she prayed desperately. Let Ian get out!
The coupling link held, but gravity and the weight of the car was too great.
"No!" Ruel struggled to his knees, watching helplessly as all three railway cars tumbled slowly off the bridge toward the muddy water sixty feet below.
"Ian!"
If she lived another hundred years, Jane knew she would never forget Ruel's agonized scream of protest and horror.
The maharajah's private car and passenger car struck the flat rocks lining the bank, crumpling like toys on impact, the wooden sides collapsing as if fashioned of paper. The locomotive sank into the water like a submerging crocodile.
"Dear God . . ." she whispered.
"Watch out for her, Li Sung." Ruel was running past them, skidding down the muddy embankment toward the crumpled car on the rocks below.
"No!" Jane didn't realize she had screamed the word. Ruel was going to be killed! He mustn't die. She couldn't live if Ruel died. She couldn't live . . .
She started after him down the embankment but had gone only a few feet when Li Sung tackled her, knocked her to the ground, and sat astride her.
"Get off me!" She struggled desperately, pounding at Li Sung's chest. "Don't you understand? He's going to die. They're both going to die. I've got to—"
"And you'll die, too, if I let you go," Li Sung said. "Ruel's mad to think he can save his brother. The crash probably killed him."
"How do you know if we don't try?"
"He's right, Jane." Kartauk was suddenly kneeling beside them, a lantern in his hand, his hair plastered about his pale face. "Listen to him."
She closed her eyes, feeling the tears running down her cheeks. Ian was dead and soon Ruel would be dead too. "Did you see it, Kartauk?" she whispered.
"I saw it all," Kartauk said grimly. "And I never want to see anything like it again."
"It fell. It shouldn't have fallen. . . ."
"What?"
"Never mind." She couldn't lie there and give up when Ruel had not. She wasn't certain Ian was dead, and by some miracle perhaps Ruel would manage to get them both out alive. They had to be ready to help if they were needed. Ruel mustn't die. He mustn't die. . . .
"Get off me, Li Sung." She turned to Kartauk. "Rope. Did Ruel include any rope with the supplies he gave you?
The wreckage of the maharajah's car balanced on the rocks percariously, half in the water. Ruel crawled through the only entrance, a gaping opening at the river's edge.
The splendid interior of the car was now a shapeless tangle of girders, trusses, crushed timbers, and smashed and overturned furniture. The porcelain stove was upside down, releasing flames that were now licking hungrily in an attempt to destroy what little was left of the car. The fire would be no problem, Ruel thought, the driving rain was already extinguishing it. He paused just inside the car, his gaze frantically searching the wreckage.
Ian lay on the floor of the train, his body twisted and half buried under the caved-in roof of the car.
Ruel crawled forward and began tearing desperately at the debris covering him.
The car slipped farther into the river; muddy yellow water gushed into the car.
He lifted the divan off Ian.
"No, leave me . . ."
Ruel's gaze flew to Ian's face, and relief rippled through him. His brother's eyes were open, his face contorted with pain, but he was alive.
"The hell I will." Ruel edged the divan to one side.
The car shifted another inch, and water poured over the top of Ruel's boots.
"It's too late," Ian gasped. "Save yourself."
"Shut up." Ruel hands quickly went over Ian's arms and legs. "Nothing seems to be broken. Can you move?"
Ian stirred, then fell back with a low cry.
"No? Then I'll have to drag you." Ruel snatched the ivory-colored cords from the drapes lying on the floor. "I'm going to make a harness. Once I'm in the water, I may not be able to hold on to you." His hands quickly fashioned the harness as he spoke. He slipped on the makeshift harness and then knotted the other end of the cord under Ian's armpits. "Ready? Here we go." He grabbed Ian beneath the armpits and pulled.
Ian screamed.
The cry flayed Ruel. "God, I'm sorry," he muttered as he pulled Ian another foot. "But the car can't stay on these rocks much longer. Once it tumbles into the water, we'll be swept away."
"Not your fault . . . coward . . ."
"You're not a coward." Ruel dragged him another foot. "Only two yards more."
"Stop." Ian groaned. "Can't stand it."
"All right." Ruel stopped pulling and dropped to his knees beside Ian, glaring at him. "Then we'll both stay here and let the goddamn river kill us. Is that what you want? Because I'm not leaving you."
"Ruel, please. Don't . . ." Ian wearily closed his eyes. "All right, pull. . . ."
The next few minutes were excruciating agony for Ian and backbreaking effort for Ruel.
They finally reached the opening, and Ruel stopped to catch his breath. Ian was barely on the verge of consciousness, and how in hell was he to get him out of the car and onto the rocks with the least damage?
The decision was made for him as the car slid forward off the rocks into the water.
The current whipped them away from the railway car as if they were bits of kindling. The next moment Ruel was dashed against the rocks. He instinctively reached out, grabbing for a boulder.
Pain.
Blackness.
He had to hold on. Ian . . . where was Ian? He felt a tug at the harness and turned to see Ian floating a few feet away. He hoisted himself up on the rocks, then turned and started pulling hand over hand on the cord binding him to his brother. The current was fighting him, taking Ian, jerking Ruel back toward the water.
It seemed an eternity before Ian was close enough for Ruel to reach out and drag him up on the rocks.
Ian lay still, no longer conscious. Perhaps not even alive.
"Don't die, damn you. You can't die." Ruel pressed his ear to Ian's breast. Nothing. He shifted his head higher and detected a faint heartbeat. Alive, thank God, but for how long? He adjusted the cords of the harness over his shoulders and began to crawl over the rocks, dragging Ian behind.
One yard. Two yards. Something warm ran down his shoulder. Rain? No, blood from the cords cutting into his shoulders, he realized dimly.
He reached the embankment and started up the steep incline, his boots sinking ankle-deep in the mud.
He dragged Ian five yards. Slipped back two.
Went another three yards. Slipped back five.
He cursed and started up the slope again.
"We'll take him. Take off the harness."
It was Kartauk speaking, on the embankment in front of him, Ruel realized hazily. Kartauk and Jane.
Kartauk swiftly unfastened the cords from Ruel's back. "Lord, you're cut to pieces."
"Ian ..."
"We'll get him." Jane was replacing the cords around Ian's body with the rope she carried. "Li Sung tied the other end of the rope to a tree at the top of the embankment. As soon as we reach the top, we'll pull him up." She tested the knot. "It's secure. Let's go."
Ruel staggered behind Kartauk and Jane up the embankment. The going was difficult but not impossible without Ian's weight burdening him. It took them ten minutes to reach the top, where Li Sung waited. Together, they pulled Ian up the rest of the slope.
"Is he alive?" Li Sung asked.
"Yes," Ruel said. "Let's get him under Kartauk's lean-to and out of this rain."
A few minutes later they managed to drag Ian underneath the crude tarpaulin-covered shelter. "Take care of him." Ruel turned and staggered away from them toward the bridge.
"Where are you going?" Jane called.
"Kasanpore. Doctor . . ."
"You can barely walk. How can you make it to Kasanpore?"
"No one else. Kartauk can't go," he said jerkily. "Neither can Li Sung . . . crippled."
"What about me?"
"Stop arguing with me." He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes blazing at her. "Just keep Ian alive until I get back."
Jane held her breath as she watched him start across the gorge. The bridge appeared to be still intact, but she couldn't be sure after the punishment it had taken.
Her breath expelled in a rush of relief as Ruel finally reached the bank on the other side. A moment later he was lost to sight around the bend.
Keep Ian alive until I get back.
And how was she going to do that? Jane wondered in despair as she turned to stare down at Ian. He looked as if he was barely clinging to life right now, and it would be hours before Ruel could get back with help. The blanket they had draped over him was already damp and she had no way to keep him dry, no way to build a fire.
