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of people who stood peering northwards
to where smoke and dust rose in a huge pall, darkening the sky, and from where
rose the roar of the beast from Hell itself.
    Quietly, ghostlike, Pearl threaded through the
crowd and crept away to the south. She picked up a pot and pretended to be
fetching water, moving slowly backwards until finally she reached the lip of
the vast plateau where the army had camped. Throwing aside the pot, she ran
down the slope, tripping and rolling and scrambling to her feet again, braking
with her heels where the angle grew steep, cannoning off rocks, until at last
she reached shelter in a clump of trees. There she flung herself down, her
chest labouring like a blacksmith’s bellows.
    Looking up into the trimmed bare branches she
saw they were mulberry trees, planted in rows leading down to an expanse of
water where sampans were towed by water buffalo, men fished and children
played. It was a painted scene, peaceful, in total contrast to the fighting and
bloodshed she’d left behind.
    She thought of her captor, taking his ease after
the battle, if he survived. He would be weary, and furious that there was no
slave to prepare his pipe. He’d take one of the pills and swallow it. Eating
opium was an easy way to satisfy the drug craving. And with it he would swallow
the deadly powdered mushroom.
    Filled with fierce satisfaction, she forced her
bruised body to its feet and hurried down to the river.

 

CHAPTER FOUR
    The sun was at its zenith, bearing
relentlessly down upon the earth. Elly felt it as an actual pressure that flattened
her hair against her skull in a sweaty mat. All that was left of her thick gold
braids was a rat’s nest of chopped ends which she couldn’t bear to touch, or
even think about.
    Still stunned by the violence of events that had
overtaken her so suddenly, she plodded along the middle of the track, stirring
up dust that clung to her damp skin and masked her face. Stinging flies and
midges clustered there, seeking moisture from her eyes, lips, skin. Listlessly
she brushed at them with a swatch of gum leaves.
    She’d been walking a long time – herded out of
The Settlement like an animal, followed by catcalls and the ugly epithets heard
in a timber camp, her throat parched, her unprotected skin already on fire. Numbed
by shock, she hadn’t even flinched when a stone was thrown at her, narrowly
missing her head. And eventually they’d stopped following her to head back, no
doubt for a pleasant interlude at the hotel. The dead child and her grieving
family would already be out of mind, and Elly herself ancient history.
    Which was just what she was likely to become in
a day or so if she didn’t find help. She stopped to tear off a long strip from
a petticoat to wind around her head against the scorching sun before setting
off once more. It was no use turning back to further abuse. She’d been warned. The
thought that by now her home, all her possessions, her father’s precious chair,
would be ash and rubble, brought her close to despair. The juggernaut of the
mob had smashed her life completely, and now looked like taking the remains of
that, too, from her.
    She walked for hours until the sun was replaced
by stars shimmering overhead in the heated air, until the moon disappeared,
leaving her to feel her way through confusing shadows, sometimes running into
an outstretched branch or tripping over a stone. The rough track had been
carved by the bullocks pulling cedar logs to the river, where they were floated
down to a mill. However, due to summer’s drought, the water level had dropped
and it was unlikely a team would pass by in time to help her.
    When the light failed completely she found
shelter under a fallen tree, digging a hole for her hip in the sandy soil
before trying to sleep. By this time her empty stomach had contracted into a
tight knot, while her body ached unmercifully. Drained in every way, she lay
and shivered, despite the lingering heat. Since her