Our Land of Palestine by Malcolm Archibald

Author:Malcolm Archibald [Archibald, Malcolm]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Creativia
Published: 2016-03-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

December 1915

Helena was there, just outside the periphery of his vision. He could sense her; he knew that subtle perfume that she wore on very special occasions. He reached out but she was not there. He peered into the opaque landscape, where the desert dust of the Kalahari hazed everything and saw her form, plumper now after two children, but even more desirable for that.

'Helena'

She did not reply.

'Helena'

She turned to him, unsmiling, with her eyes invisible. He tried to step forward but could not move. His legs failed to respond. She was drifting away, sliding into the ethereal distance. She was leaving him.

'I had to go, Andrew,' she said. 'I did not wish to.'

Selkirk recalled that day on the stoep watching the huge orange sun set across half the continent, casting shadows on the graves of his wife and children.

There was a small figure on either side of her now; their children, looking at him across the width of the world. He reached for them but Helena hustled them away so his hands clawed at empty air.

'Helena' he said, 'Helena' but she was no longer there and the desert sky was red with blood and dark with despair.

'Helena…'

'Major!' Black shook him awake. 'You're needed.'

Selkirk started. 'Helena?'

'Sorry Major; it's Sergeant Black.'

Selkirk staggered to his feet. 'What's the matter, Black?'

'That buckle bint says she has information for you.' Black said bluntly. He jerked his head backward. 'She's waiting out there.'

Abraham was clinging to Rachel's arm. He looked frail and old, with the bruises on his face having merged to one large purple mess that completely closed his left eye. He slurred when he spoke.

'Abraham says that you had better start getting organised, Major Selkirk,' Rachel translated and then listened to Abraham again. 'He says that there is a fresh company of the First Division marching to Jerusalem; that can only mean they are to be used for some special reason.'

'The diplomatic meeting?' Selkirk asked and Rachel shrugged.

'Obviously.'

'The First Division?' Black had remained to listen. 'That's bad news, Major. They're the best they have. If they are in the Citadel we won't just be facing odds and sods, but prime soldiers.'

Selkirk felt Rachel's eyes on him. 'We'll just have to be that much better then,' he said. His rag bag collection of horse soldiers against a company of the best soldiers in the Ottoman army. That was not good.

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