The Monsoon by Wilbur Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

immediately answered himself.
    “I know, because I’m the youngestV “Come on, Dorry.”
    Guy took his hand and pulled him into the coach.
    “I’ll help you with your lessons.” The hardships and injustices of youth were immediately forgotten as Aboli cracked his whip, the carriage jerked and set off, with the gravel crunching under the iron-shod wheels. Guy and Dorian leaned from the window to wave and shout farewell to their favourites among the household staff until they turned at the crossroads and High Weald was hidden from their view.
    On the box, Tom sat ecstatically between two of his favourite men.
    Big Daniel was a great hulk with a mane of silver hair bristling out from under his cocked hat. He possessed not a single tooth in his head so when he chewed his weathered face folded like the leather bellows of a blacksmith’s forge. It was well known that, even at his age, he was the strongest man in Devonshire. Tom had seen him lift a recalcitrant horse in the air and dump it on its back with all four legs in the air and hold it there effortlessly while the blacksmith shod it. He had been boatswain for Francis Courtney, and when Tom’s grandfather had been killed by the Dutch, Big Daniel had served the son, had sailed the southern oceans with Hal Courtney, had fought with him against pagan and Dutchman, against pirate and renegade and a dozen other enemies.
    He had played nurse to William and the twins, had carried them on his back and dandled them with huge, gentle hands.
    He could tell the most enchanting stories that any small boy could dream of, build models of tall ships, so beautifully realistic in every detail that it seemed they might at any moment sail over the horizon to some stirring adventure, bearing Tom away with them on the quarterdeck.
    He had the most intriguing repertoire of oaths and sayings that Tom rehearsed only in the company of Dorian and Guy, for to recite them in the presence of William or his father, or any other grown-up, would have led to instant retribution. Tom loved Big Daniel dearly.
    Outside his own immediate family there was only one other person he loved more. Aboli sat on Tom’s other side, holding the reins in his huge black hands.
    “You hold the blunderbuss.” Knowing what pleasure it would give him, Aboli handed the hideous weapon to Tom. Although its barrel was shorter than Tom’s arm, it could hurl a devastating double handful of goose shot from the gaping bell-shaped muzzle.
    “If a highwayman tries to stop us, you give him a bellyful, Klebe.” Tom was almost overwhelmed by the honour, and sat up straight between them, silently praying for the chance to use the heavy weapon he cradled in his lap.
    Aboli had used his pet name: Xlebe” meant Hawk in the language of the forests of Africa. It was a nickname Tom delighted in. Aboli had taught him the language of the forest, “because,” he had explained, “that is where your destiny will take you. It has been prophesied by a wise and beautiful woman long ago. Africa awaits you. I, Aboli, must prepare you for that day when you step on her soil for the first time.”
    Aboli was a prince of his own tribe. The patterns of ritual scars that covered his black face in raised whorls and ridges were proof of his royal blood. He was an expert with any weapon he laid his hands on, from an African fighting stick to the finest Toledo rapier. Now that his twins were of the correct age, Hal Courtney had entrusted to Aboli the task of teaching them swordsmanship. Aboli had trained Hal at the same age, and William too. He had moulded each of them into expert swordsman. Tom had taken to the blade with the same natural ability as his father and his half-brother but it grieved Aboli that Guy did not show the same eagerness or aptitude.
    “How old do you think Aboli is?” Dorian had once asked.
    Tom had replied, with all the wisdom of his superior age, “He is even older than Father. He must be a hundred years at leas tV Aboli had