thedestroyer.slavesafari-第13部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


hem　when　the　two　got　to　their　village　and　the　awesome　dryness　of　the　plain　which　Chiun　kept　referring　to　as　the　lush　gardens　before　the　mountains；　for　they　had　once；　he　explained；　been　the　most　beautiful　gardens　in　the　world。
　〃The　Loni　must　have　paid　your　ancestors　pretty　good；〃　said　Remo。
　〃They　recognized　true　worth。〃
　〃They're　gonna　jump　us　as　soon　as　we　get　to　enough　of　them。〃
　〃The　Loni　are　fair　and　just　and　decent。〃
　〃They　must　have　really　paid；〃…said　Remo。　He　felt；　clammy　and　dusty　and　grimy；　not　having　changed　clothes　in　two　days。　Chiun；　naturally；　had　seven　trunks　full　of　changes。
　As　they　climbed　into　the　mountains；　night　descended　in　its　awesome　majesty　upon　the　old　continent。　Remo　noticed　immediately　that　these　were　not　simple　paths；　but　stairways　cut　of　rock　worn　by　centuries　of　feet。
　They　continued　marching　into　the　night；　pushing　onward　and　upward。　Remo　was　amazed　at　the　ability　of　the　soldiers　to　keep　going　under　the　burden　of　Chain's　baggage。
　Around　one　bend　a　fire　shone　from　a　high　wall。
　Chiun　cupped　his　hands　to　his　face　and　yelled　the　Loni　dialect　of　Swahili。
　〃I　told　them　I　was　here；〃　he　said　to　Remo。'
　〃Now　we　get　it；〃　said　Remo；　prepared　to　slash　his　way　back　down　the　mountain。
　From　arches　in　the　wall　came　men　bearing　torches　and　spears；　just　a　few　men　at　first　who　hung　back　and　waited　until　their　numbers　grew；　and　then　moved　forward；　their　torches　illuminating　the　night　with　fire　as　though　they　were　high　beam　lamps。
　There　were　too　many　with　too　many　spears　to　escape　unscathed。　Remo　decided　to　take　a　route　through　the　center；　prepare　his　body　to　take　some　wounds；　and　then　to　keep　going。　Retreat　was　impossible。　Behind　him　he　heard　Chiun's　trunks　striking　the　ground；　and　the　scuffling　feet　of　the　Hausa　soldiers　as　they　turned　and　fled　down　the　mountainside。
　Oddly　enough　the　Loni　tribesmen　did　not　pursue　them。　Instead；　when　they　got　within　striking　distance；　they　fell　to　their　knees　and　a　cry　of　praise　rose　from　their　throats　in　powerful　unison。
　〃Sinanju。　Sinanju。　Sinanju。〃
　Then；　up　over　their　heads　on　the　mountaintop；　Remo　could　see　in　the　flame　light；　a　tall　black　woman　wearing　a　short　white　gown。　She　carried　in　her　hands　a　shiny　metal　brazier　from　which　a　fire　burned。　Remo　and　Chiun　moved　closer；　and　the　crowd　which　chanted　〃Sinanju〃　stopped；　upon　one　word　from　her。
　She　spoke。　Chiun　translated　for　Remo。
　〃Wele；　Master　of　Sinanju。　Our　ambitions　have　been　awaiting　the　return　of　your　awesome　magnificence。　Oh；　Awesome　Magnificence；　the　Gods　of　the　Loni　greet　you　in　fire。　Our　hopes　await　the　glory　of　thy　majestic　presence。　Oh；　Awesome　Magnificence；　the　throne　of　the　Loni　once　again　will'　be　secure　because　you　have　deigned　to　e　among　us。〃
　〃They　really　saying　those　things　about　you；　Chiun？〃　said　Remo　from　the　side　of　his　mouth。
　〃That　is　how　civilized　people　greet　the　Master　of　Sinanju；〃　said　Chiun；　the　latest　Master　of　Sinanju。
　〃Shit；〃　said　Remo　Williams；　ex…Newark　cop；
　
　CHAPTER　EIGHT　
　General　William　Forsythe　Butler　rented　a　car　at　the　Washington；　D。C。　airport　when　his　plane　landed　there；　and　drove　out　in　the　quiet　night　toward　Norfolk；　Virginia。
　The　air　was　sweet　with　the　hot　smells　of　spring　and　he　rode　with　the　air　conditioning　turned　oil　and　the　windows　open；　listening　to　the　land；　feeling　its　beauty　around　him。
　How　long　ago　had　those　first　slaves　set　foot　on　this　land？　Had　they　perhaps　traveled　this　same　road？　Of　course；　it　would　not　have　been　much　more　than　a　cart　path　then。　Perhaps　the　rich　dirt　got　between　their　toes　and　warmed　and　weled　them　and　they　thought　the　way　Butler　once　had：　that　the　land　was　rich　and　good。　After　a　trip　of　unrelieved　brutality；　perhaps　they　felt　that　they　had　chanced　into　something　good…a　growing；　fertile　land　where　they　could　build　a　full　and　rewarding　life。　The　Loni　princes　would　have　thought　that　way。　And　instead　of　happiness　and　fulfillment；　they　found　only　the　chain　and　the　whip　and　the　sun…hammered　days　of　backbreaking　labor　in　the　fields；　labor　unrelieved　by　the　release　of　humor；　by　the　circle　of　family；　by　the　slow；　lazy　forgetfulness　of　happiness。
　The　Loni　had　once　been　prideful　people。　How　many　of　them　had　tried　to　change　their　lot；　first　by　reasoning　with　the　white…eye　brutes；　then　by　fleeing；　then　by　rebellion？
　Butler　thought　of　them　and　then　of　what　the　Loni；　subjugated　and　beaten；　had　bee　even　in　their　nature　land。
　He　trod　heavier　on　the　gas　pedal。　In　Norfolk；　he　drove　to　the　city's　bustling　waterfront　and　parked　his　car　in　a　now　unsupervised　parking　lot　near　a　small　amusement　arcade。　Before　he　even　left　the　car；　the　watery　feel　and　smell　of　salt　and　brack　coated　everything。　He　could　feel　it　working　its　way　into　the　soft　silk　fibers　of　his　light　blue　suit；　as　he　stepped　along　the　riverfront　street。
　He　stopped　near　the　piers　and　looked　up　and　down　the　street；　blinking　and　bright　with　neon　lights　for　a　half…mile　in　each　direction。　His　man　would　be　in　one　of　three　places。
　The　first　bar　was　air…conditioned　cold；　and　he　felt　the　sweat　on　his　body　dry　almost　immediately　as　he　stepped　inside　the　door。　It　was　a　sailor's　bar。　A　white　sailor's　bar。　The　tavern　was　filled　with　seamen；　their　clothes；　their　tattoos；　the　leathery　but　still　untanned　look　of　their　faces　and　hands　giving　away　their　occupation。　Heads　turned　toward　him　as　he　stood　in　the　doorway；　realizing　he　had　made　a　mistake　and　this　was　not　the　bar　he　was　looking　for；　but　determined　to　brazen　it　out　as　a　free　man；　first　looking　along　the　bar；　then　toward　the　tables；　scanning　faces。
　〃Hey；　you；〃　the　bartender　called。　〃This　is　a　private　bar。〃
　〃Yassuh；〃　Butler　said。　〃Jes'　looking　for　somebody；　boss。〃
　〃Well；　you　won't　find　him　in　here。〃
　〃Not　a　him；　boss。　A　her。　You　see　her；　maybe？　Big　blonde　woman　with　big　titties。　Wearing　a　little；　short；　red　dress；　way　up　high　around　the　nice；　fine；　warm　ass；〃　He　grinned；　showing　teeth。
　The　bartender　sputtered。
　Butler　said；　〃Never　mind；　boss。　She　ain't　here。　But　if　she　e　in；　you　tell　her　to　get　her　white　ass　home；　'cause　her　man　gonna　whomp　her　good　iften　she　don't。　You　tell　her；　she　don't　get　right　home；　and　she　ain't　getting　no　more　of　this　good　stuff　right　here；〃　Butler　said；　stroking　the　groin　of　his　trousers。
　There　were　a　few　muzzled　mumbles。　The　bartender's　mouth　still　worked；　getting　ready　to　talk；　but　before　he　could　speak；　Butler　turned　and　walked　out　into　the　street；　letting　the　heavy　wood　and　glass　door　swing　shut　behind　him。
　He　stopped　here　on　the　sidewalk　and　laughed；　a　full；　roaring　laugh　that　only　a　trained；　intelligent　linguist's　ear　could　tell　was　punctuated　by　the　Loni　throat　click　of　anger。
　Then　Butler　turned　and　walked　away　down　the　block。　It　didn't　feel　so　oppressively　hot　anymore。　The　heat　felt　good　on　his　skin。
　The　second　tavern　was　uneventful；　but　empty　and　he　found　his　man　in　the　third　saloon　he　entered。　The　man　sat　in　the　back；　his　face　cafe　au　lait　light　against　the　dark　blue　of　his　crisp　tailored　gabardine　uniform。　Despite　the　heat；　he　wore　his　braided　jacket　and　his　braided　duck…billed　cap；　with　the　gold　stringwork　across　the　crown　and　bill。
　The　bar　was　noisy　with　black　sailors　and　no　one　looked　up　when　Butler　came　in　or　paid　any　especial　attention　to　the　black　dude　in　the　light　blue　suit。　He　was　twice　offered　drinks　by　sailors　as　he　walked　the　length　of　the　bar　and　turned　them　down　with　what　he　hoped　was　a　gracious　shake　of　his；　head；　and　finally　reached　the　table　where　the　ship's　officer　sat；　drinking　alone；　a　bottle　of　Cutty　Sark　scotch　in　front　of　him。
　The　officer　looked　up　as　Butler　eased　into　the　seat。
　〃Hello；　Captain；〃　Butler　said。
　〃Why；　Colonel　Butler；〃　the　man　said。　〃What　a　pleasure　to　see　you。〃　His　tongue　was　a　little　thick　in　his　mouth；　he　had　been　drinking　too　much；　Butler　realized　with　distaste。　〃It's　been　a　long　while。〃
　〃Yes；〃　Butler　said；　〃but　now　I　have　need　of　your　services。〃
　The　ship's　officer　smiled　softly　as　he　filled　his　old…fashioned　glass　to　the　brim　with　Cutty　Sark。　He　sniffed　the　smoky　scotch；　lifted　it　to　his　mouth；　and　then　began　to　swallow　it　smoothly；　slowly。
　He　stopped　when　the　glass　was　half　empty。　〃Why；　of　course；〃　he　said。　〃Same　arrangement？〃
　Butler　nodded。
　The　same　arrangement　meant　5；000　in　cash　for　the　captain　of　the　Liberian…registered　tanker。　At　least　that　was　the　polite　fiction　that　Butler　and　the　ship's　captain　maintained。　The　full　truth　was　that　the　〃same　arrangement〃　meant　that　the　captain's　wife　and　mother　and　children　who　lived　in　Busati　would　continue　to　live　there　and　not　turn　up　dead　in　a　ditch。　This　point　had　been　made　clear　at　Butler's　first　meeting　with　the　captain　ten　months　before；　it　had　never　been　raised　again　since　there　was　no　need　for　it。　The　captain　remembered。
　〃However；〃　Butler　added；　〃there　will　be　a　slight　difference　this　time。〃　He　looked　around　the　room　to　be　sure　no　one　was　watching　or　listening。　The　small　bar　reverberated　with　the　soul…screeching　of　the　jukebox。　Reassured；　Butler　said；　〃Two　women。〃
　〃Two？〃　the　captain　said。
　Butler　smiled。　〃Two。　But　one　will　not　plete　the　trip。〃
　The　captain　sipped　his　drink；　then　smiled　again。　〃I　see；〃　he　said。　〃I　see。〃　But　he　did　not　see　why　he　should　carry　two　women　for　the　same　price　he　was　paid　for　carrying　one。　Yet；　neither　did　he　see　how　he　could　raise　the　subject　to　Butler　without　risking　serious　trouble。　Again；　he　said；　〃I　see。〃
　〃Good；〃　said　Butler。　〃When　do　you　sail？〃
　The　captain　glanced　down　at　his　watch。　〃Five　o'clock；〃　he　said。　〃Just　before　dawn。〃
　〃I'll　be　there；〃　Butler　said。　He　rose　from　the　table。
　〃Join　me　in　a　drink；　Colonel？〃　the　captain　asked。
　〃Sorry；　no。　I　never　drink。〃
　〃Too　bad。　I　should　think　you　would。　It　makes　life　so　much　easier。〃
　Butler　put　his　big　hand　on　the　table　and　leaned　forward　to　the　officer。　〃You　don't　understand；　Captain。　Nothing　could　be　easier　than　my　life　is　now。　Or　more　pleasurable。〃
　The　captain　nodded。　Butler　paused　a　moment；　almost　challenging　a　ment；　but　when　none　came；　he　pushed　away　from　the　table；　turned　and　left。
　Butler's　next…stop　was　a　motel　on　the　outskirts　of　the　city；　where　he　rented　a　room　under　the　name　of　F。　B。　Williams；　producing　identification　in　that　name；　paying　cash　and　rebuffing　efforts　by　the　motel　clerk　to　engage　him　in　conversation。