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“Farewell,” Sundara
said. “I should apologize
for attempting to could hold you against your
will. You are a woman beyond
anything I have ever dreamed of, but you are not of my world and I should
never have considered you a part of
it.”
Larra’s face lit up in a dazzling
smile. “I thank you, my
lord, for your courtesy. I will
long remember my stay among your people.
Had circumstances been different I might have been tempted to
stay.”
She turned to Rupali, and put her arms about
the Indian girl. “Take care
of yourself and your child. You
may carry a future maharajah.”
“If it is a girl I will name it Larra,”
Sundara interjected.
“And if it is a boy?” Larra
asked.
“Then I will name it after myself, of
course,” Sundara said.
“But you already have six sons named
after yourself,” Larra said,
laughing.
“There can never be too many,” Sundara
replied. He bowed and kissed
Larra’s fingertips. “And
now,” he said, “I think your daughter
calls.”
Larra partly turned
away. “Probably hungry
again,” she said. She looked
softly at Sundara. “Perhaps,
one day I shall return.”
“If you do, I will not promise to let
you go a second time,” Sundara grinned.
Larra turned
away. They had just a short walk
to where “Bertha” waited and Larra was most curious to see the
aerial monstrosity that Katie had
described. It sounded like some
sort of flying barn. After the
defeat of the Japanese and the routing of the Prahgan, Larra and her companions
had stayed another month with Sundara, recovering from their
travails. Then the maharajah
had personally escorted them on the long trek back, providing an escort of
twenty elephants and two hundred men.
It had made what had been a march of horror
the first time the women had made the journey into something that resembled
a picnic. Sundara had stopped
just short of the river village where Wallace had left the plane and had
waited while the big Aussie and several of his men had scouted ahead to make
sure that there was no danger. They
now had only an hour walk to make it to the plane.
Sundara had decided that his men should remain
apart from the villagers. His
kingdom had been hidden for hundreds of years and he intended to keep it
that way. The fewer people who
knew about him the better. And
so the goodbyes were said under the canopy of the
rainforest.
Walking back to her friends, Larra took Sevti
from Lisha. The tall African
was amazingly gentle and loved to hold the infant when Larra did not have
her. This was a duty she shared
with Anom. The Javanese girl
had readily accepted Larra’s offer to become part of her
household. Her former life had
been destroyed. Dishonoured,
she could never go back to her husband, provided she could even find her
way through the hundreds of miles of Japanese occupied
She turned for one last glimpse of Sundara
and Rupali, and then without another backward glance,
marched off behind Wallace’s tall figure as he led to the way to
Bertha. It was time to go
home.
From the edge of the river a pair of bestial
eyes watched the expedition as it prepared to
depart. The mind behind them
was quite mad. Purwanto had been
following the women and their escort for weeks, ever since his jungle wanderings
had accidentally intersected theirs.
After fleeing
He had run out of Japanese just as the procession
of elephants had passed close to his hiding
place. At first, frightened by
the sound, he had run and hidden, but then finding that no one appeared to
be searching for him he had crept out of his hiding place and investigated
the expedition.
He spotted the women at
once. His heart burned with a
hatred so intense he had almost rushed at them from the security of his hiding
place. It was the women who had
destroyed his quest and he was drawn after them like a fly toward rotting
meat.
He soon realized that the procession of elephants
and the military escort provided made it impossible for him to carry out
any act of vengeance, and so he had merely followed them, easting what they
left behind in their campsites and waiting for his
chance. The chance had never
come. The elephants could move
much more quickly than he could and he had soon been left behind, not catching
up to them until the expedition had camped for several days just short of
the river. Impatiently he had
circled the camp like a wild animal trying to find some way in, but always
it was too well guarded. Slowly,
however his twisted mind had formulated a plan.
It was a plan no sane man would have contemplated,
but Purwanto was far beyond being
rational. It required a certain
amount of timing, luck, and a relaxation of the vigilance of the women he
intended to victimize, but he had observed the women long enough to be aware
that their activities followed a certain routine, a routine that he thought
he could exploit.
The women were very close now, queuing up
for the boat that would ferry them out to the
plane. As expected the woman
called Larra had passed her child to the one person Purwanto knew he could
dominate. His plan seemed to
be working perfectly.
He waited until just before the last boat
was ready to load. As expected
Larra remained on the shore watching over her
companions. Beside her stood
Anom, cradling the child. He
was on them in five strides, bursting from the undergrowth like the striking
of a snake. He reached Anom and
ripped the child from her grasp.
The women whirled on him like tigresses, but
he had them where he wanted them.
His knife at the throat of the infant he warned them
away. “Move and I slit the
brat’s throat.” He
spoke in Dutch, a language that he knew at least one of them
spoke.
The warning froze them in their
tracks. He saw the frightened
look in the violet eyes of the mother and the horror and fear on the face
of the others. It gave him a
great feeling power. They outnumbered
him, but he was the one in charge.
“Anom,” he
ordered. “Strip them of
their jewellery and weapons and bring it to me.”
The Javanese girl did as she was told, moving
among the women who remained exactly where they were, their eyes fixed on
him with fear and anger. Revenge
was his and it would soon be even more
complete.
“Now,” he
intoned. “I am going to
leave. In a few months I will
send you a message through the Swiss
embassy. It will concern the
return of the child.”
“You can’t take her with you,”
the woman called Larra protested.
“I will not allow it.
Take what we have given you and leave, but you leave without my
daughter.”
“You are not in a position to tell me
what to do,” Purwanto replied, enjoying the feeling of absolute power
he now had. He knew any one of
the women facing him was more than a match for him, but they dared do nothing
as long as he held the baby.
“I decide what happens and I have decided that I am taking the
child and Anom with me.”
“You’re mad,” Larra
cried. “Do you think we
would let you get away with that.?”
It is the only choice you have,” Purwanto
gloated. “I get my way or
the child dies now.” To
underscore his point he pushed the tip of the knife into the infant’s
throat until it drew a tiny bead of
blood.
“Stop,” Anom
said. “I will do as you
say.”
“No,” Larra
protested. “Take me
instead. I promise I will not
try to escape or do you any harm.
Just leave my child here.”
Purwanto hesitated, mad as he was, the offer
was very tempting. To have a
woman like
He watched as the women began to
comply. They had no choice really
and he thought of how delicious it was going to be to take away the women’s
child and leave her completely at his
mercy. He could not help a smirk
of victory as he saw Larra slowly retreat toward the boat, her blazing eyes
fixed on him and her fists clenched in helpless
rage.
Anom stepped beside
him. She had transferred the
weapons and jewellery into a bag which she had slung across her
shoulder. He saw from her eyes
that she was deathly afraid. In
a short while the plane would take off and she would be his to do with as
he wished once again.
The baby wriggled in his arms and he tightened
his grip. He would wait until
the plane took off before he killed it.
It would be most amusing to communicate with the mother for a hefty
ransom for a child that was already dead.
“Ugh!” he grunted as a sharp pain shot through his
kidneys. Suddenly he could no
longer stand. As his legs began
to buckle he saw to his bewilderment that Anom was standing with a bloody
knife in her hands. As his hold
on the infant relaxed she dropped the knife and snatched the baby from his
hands.
“Anom,” he gasped,
“what…” His vision
faded. The last thing he saw
was the woman he had raped holding his crying
hostage.
Larra looked into the sleeping face of her
eight-month-old daughter. If
her beauty as a child held out until she was older she was going to be a
startlingly attractive woman. She
was a blend of her father and mother, her skin a light cinnamon, and her
hair dark as night. Her eyes,
however, when they were open, were violet, shifting to
indigo.
It had been five months since they had escaped
from
She had chosen to stay there and recuperate
along with those of her friends who chose to
stay. Katie, always busy with
her own life had returned to the
Anom entered the
room. The girl seemed to be adjusting
well to her new life. She would
never be the sort of woman that Katie or Melissa
was. She was content to be a
part of Larra’s household and attend to the children and she appeared
happy now that her hideous ordeal was behind
her. The girl smiled as she
entered. “Mr. and Mrs. Wallace
and are here.”
“Thank you, Anom,” Larra
replied. “Please send them
in.” She set Sevti into
her crib by the window and turned to the door.
“G’day, Larra,” the big Aussie
grinned as he swept into the room.
“Yer lookin’ right
bonzer.”
“Thank
you. I see Mrs. Wallace appears
well.”
“Oh right, sorry,” Wallace said,
stepping aside and allowing his wife to enter.
“How long now?” Larra asked, looking
at Judy’s swollen belly.
“Still four months, but I think it’s
going to be big, like his father,” Judy smiled as she sat
down.
Anom set tea and cakes on the table and then
withdrew. Wallace immediately
munched two of them down and then cleared his
throat. “Got a proposition
for you, Larra.”
“Yes?” Larra
answered. Meeting with Wallace
was unusual. Judy frequently
visited, but Wallace was usually too busy to drop
by. The war kept him in the air
most of the time.
“Got something that might be right down
your alley,” Wallace said, leaning
forward. “There’s a
story an old Abo told me a while back.
‘Bout some strange markings in a cave near the Red
Heart. Managed to get me in there
a couple of weeks ago and took a few
pics. Thought you might be
interested.”
Larra studied the black and white photographs
Wallace handed her. “Are
you sure these were taken in the middle of
“Fair
dinkum,” Wallace replied.
“Well, Mr. Wallace,” Larra smiled,
“I think I know where my next expedition will
be.”
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