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"Come on board, lady. Always room for a small one." With Royan perched

on Nicholas's back, her injured leg sticking out stiffly in front of

her, they toiled upwards, but their progress was even slower than it had

been the day before. Nicholas was forced to pause and rest at shorter

and shorter intervals. On the easier pitches she dismounted and hopped

along on one leg beside him, steadying herself with one hand on his

shoulder. Then she would collapse, and he had to lift her to her feet

and pull her up on to his back once again.

The journey descended into nightmare, and both of them lost all sense of

the passage of time. Hours blended with hours into a single unremitting

agony. At one stage they lay beside each other on the path, sick and

nauseated with thirst and exhaustion and pain. They had emptied the

water bottle an hour ago, and there was no more on this section of the

path - nothing to drink until they reached the summit and were reunited

with the Dandera river.

"Go on and leave me here, she whispered hoarsely.

He sat up immediately and stared at her. "Don't be silly. I need you for

ballast."

"It can't be much further to the top," she insisted. "You can come back

with some of Boris's men to help carry me."

"If they are still there, and if Pegasus doesn't find you first." He

stood up a little unsteadily. "Forget it. You are coming along on this

ride, all the way."And he hoisted her to her feet.

He made her count aloud every step he took, and at every hundredth he

paused and rested. Then he started the next hundred, with her counting

softly in his ear, clinging with both arms around his neck. The whole

universe seemed to shrink in upon them to the ground directly at his

feet. They no longer saw the rock cliff on one side nor the deep void of

space on the other. When he lurched or jolted her and the pain shot

through her knee, she closed her eyes and tried not to let her voice

betray it to him as she kept counting.

When he rested, he had to lean against the cliff face, not trusting his

legs to get him up again if he lay down. He dared not lower her to the

ground. The effort of lifting her again would be too much. He no longer

had the strength for it.

"It's almost dark," she whispered in his ear. "You must stop here for

the night. It's enough for one day. You are killing yourself, Nicky."

"Another hundred, he mumbled.

"No, Nicky. Put me down!'

For answer he pushed off from the rock wall with his shoulder and

staggered on upwards.

"Cound' he ordered.

"Fifty-one, fifty-two," she obeyed. Suddenly the gradient altered so

sharply under his feet that he almost fell.

The path had levelled out, and like a drunkard he reached up for a step

that wasn't there.

He staggered and then caught his balance. He stood teetering on the

brink of the precipice and peered into the dusk ahead of him, at first

unable to credit what he was seeing. There were lights in the gloom, and

he thought that he had begun to hallucinate. Then he heard men's voices,

and he shook his head to clear it and bring himself back to reality.

"Oh, dear God. You have made it. We are at the top$ Nicky. There are the

vehicles. You did it, Nicky. You did it.

He tried to speak, but his throat had closed up and no words came. He

reeled forward towards the lights, and Royan cried out weakly on his

back.

"Help us here. Please help us." First in English and then in Arabic.

"Please help us."

There were startled cries and the sounds of running men. Nicholas sank

down slowly into the fine highland grass and let Royan slide off his

back. Dark figures gathered around them, chattering in Amharic, and

friendly hands seized them and half-carried, half-dragged them towards

the lights. Then a torch was shone into Nicholas's face and a very

English voice said, "Hello, Nicky. Nice surprise. I came down from Addis

to look for your corpse. Heard you were dead. Bit premature, what?"

"Hello, Geoffrey. Good of you to take the trouble."

"I dare say you could use a cup of tea. You look a bit done in," said

Geoffrey Tennant. "Never realized that your beard had ginger and grey

bits in it. Designer stubble.

Fashionable. Suits you actually."

Nicholas realized what a picture he must present, ragged and unshaven,

filthy and haggard with exhaustion.

"You remember Dr Al Simma? She has a bit of a dicky knee. Wonder if you

would mind taking care of her?"

Then his legs gave way under him, and Geoffrey Tennant caught him before

he fell.

"Steady on, old boy." He led him to a canvas-backed camp chair, and

seated him solicitously. Another chair was brought for Royan.

"Letta chai hqPa!" Geoffrey gave the universal call of an Englishman in

Africa, and minutes later thrust mugs of steaming over-sweetened tea

into their hands.

Nicholas saluted Royan with his mug. "Here's to us.

There's none like us!'

They both drank deeply, scalding their tongues, but the caffeine and

sugar hit their bloodstreams like a charge of electricity.

"Now I know I am going to live,'Nicholas sighed.

"Don't want to be pushy, Nicky, but do you mind telling me what the hell

is going on here?" Geoffrey asked.

"Why don't you tell me?" Nicholas countered. He needed time to evaluate

the situation. What did Geoffrey know and who had told him? Geoffrey

obliged immediately.

"First thing we heard was that white hunter chappie of yours, Boris, had

been fished out of the river near the Sudanese border, absolutely

riddled with bullet holes. The crocs and catfish had snacked on his

face, so the border police identified him by the documents in his money

belt."

Nicholas glanced across at Royan and cautioned her with a frown.

"Last time we saw him, he went off on a scouting expedition onhis own,'

Nicholas explained. "He probably ran into the same bunch of shufta who

raided our camp four nights ago."

"Yes, we heard about that too. Colonel Nogo here radioed in a report to

Addis."

Neither of them had recognized Nogo in the crowd of men. It was only

when he stepped forward into the light of the camp lanterns that Royan

stiffened, and such an expression of loathing flashed across her face

that Nicholas reached across surreptitiously and took her hand to

restrain her from any indiscretion. After a moment she relaxed and

composed her features.

"I am very relieved to see you, Sir Quenton-Harper.

You have given us all a very worrying few days," said Nogo.

"I do apologize," said Nicholas smoothly.

Please, sir, I meant no offence. It is just that we had a report from

the Pegasus Exploration Company that you and Dr Al Simma had been caught

up in a blasting accident. I was present when Mr Helm of the exploration

company warned you that they were conducting blasting in the gorge."

"But you-' Royan flared bitterly, and Nicholas squeezed her hand hard to

stop her going on.

It was probably our own carelessness, as you suggest.

Nevertheless, Dr Al Simma has been injured and we are I both badly

shaken up by the accident. More important than that, however, is the

fact that a number of other people, camp'staff and monks from the