That Devil's Madness by Dominique Wilson Read Free Book Online Page B

I’d pay for the land over the next fifteen years. We leave tomorrow morning. What’s this?’
    â€˜A parasol. I found it in the wardrobe. How will we get there?’
    Marius opened the parasol. ‘It’s in good condition. You should have taken it to the butcher.’
    â€˜I did. He told me to keep it, but I don’t want it. How are we getting there tomorrow?’
    â€˜You don’t want it? No, I suppose not. But we’ll keep it anyway. We might be able to trade it for something.’
    â€˜Father?’
    â€˜Yes?’
    â€˜Tomorrow. How will we get there?’
    â€˜By boat. No, don’t look like that – it’s the only way. And it’ll take more than just tomorrow. There are no roads to Sétif. The coaches are unwilling to travel such distances, so the only way is by sea, either to Bedjaia or Skida. But for our own safety, we’re better off going to Skida, apparently. It’s further – about three hundred and fifty kilometres from here – but there we’ll be able to join a military party that’s going to Constantine, to the south. From Constantine, we come back this way about a hundred and twenty kilometres to Sétif. Then another forty kilometres southward to Aïn Azel. I know, it sounds complicated, but I have to think of our safety. Don’t worry, it won’t be so bad. I met a Corsican fisherman who’s going to Skida himself tomorrow – he’s agreed to take us on board.’
    Louis sighed; he doubted a fishing boat would be any better than L’Arlésienne.
    â€˜Fourteen hectares, Louis. Think of it! Fourteen hectares of rich land with a river running through. I think we were wise to come here after all.’
    #
    The trip to Skida was uneventful. The sea was calm and Louis found that he wasn’t seasick as he’d been on the Arlésienne , and the Corsican fisherman told him tales of pirates that used the caves they could see along the coast to hide their treasures. At night he slept on deck looking up at the vastness of the sky. He saw a falling star one night and remembered the women of his village who would cross themselves whenever they saw one, because they believed it to be the soul of someone who’d just died, and he wondered if his mother was up there, looking down on him. Would he ever stop missing her so terribly?
    By day it was easier because there was plenty to keep him busy. He helped the fisherman catch their evening meal, and once, when they caught a small shark, the fisherman cut off its tail and nailed it to the bow to ward off other sharks. But nights were different, because no matter what he thought about, his thoughts always came back to thinking of his mother, missing her, wondering what she’d say about this or that…
    By the time they reached Skida on the fifth day, Louis felt himself an accomplished seaman. They found an army captain who took them to his camp, and for the next two days, while the military organised their provisions, Louis and Marius enjoyed military food and the shelter of a tent.
    But soon it was time to move again, and they were given the use of a horse for the four-day trip to Constantine. Louis sat behind his father, holding tight, and by the end of the first day on horseback, he found he had difficulty walking. The soldiers teased him and offered to fill his pants with straw to ease the ache.
    On they rode the next day through desolate clay hills sometimes covered with silver-barked pines, sometimes with prickly pear. They rode between mountains of slate with strata jutting at acute angles towards the sky, and occasionally they saw, on a hilltop, a small Kabyle village. They passed few people on this road – a shepherd or a villager who would stop and stare, and every so often they would see aqueducts or bridges, the remains of ancient Roman occupation.
    On the fourth and last day of this leg of their journey they travelled uphill, up a road