In the darkness before dawn, they rode out again. When the sunrise broke over the escarpment of the Rift Valley it swamped the eastern sky with a blazing grandeur of gold and crimson, dazzling their eyes and warming their bodies so that they shrugged off their overcoats and rode on in shirtsleeves. Somehow this sunrise was a fitting epilogue to the lion hunt. It excited their senses and lightened their mood so that they saw beauty in all around them and wondered at the small things that before might have gone unremarked: the azure jewel of a kingfisher’s breast as it darted across the track ahead, the grace of an eagle soaring high against the gold-drenched sky on outstretched pinions, a gazelle lamb kneeling on its front legs under its dam’s belly and greedily bumping her udders with its snout, her milk running down its chin. The ewe watching them pass, unafraid, huge soft eyes glistening.
The mood was upon Eva also. She pointed with her riding crop and called out gaily, ‘Oh, Otto! See that small creature snuffling around in the grass like an old man who has lost his reading glasses? What is it?’
Although she was addressing Graf Otto, Leon had the feeling that she was sharing the moment with him alone and answered, ‘It is a honey badger, Fräulein. Although he appears gentle, he is one of the most ferocious creatures in Africa. He is without fear. He is immensely powerful. His pelt is so tough that it resists bee stings and the claws and fangs of much larger animals. Even the lion gives him a wide berth. Interfere with him at your peril.’
Eva gave him a flash of her violet eyes, then turned to Graf Otto with a purr of sweet laughter. ‘In all of that he resembles you. In future I shall think of you as my honey badger.’
Which of them was she speaking to? Leon wondered. With this woman a man could never be sure of anything. There was always so much about her that was either enigmatic or ambiguous.
Before he could decide, she had spurred forward and, standing in the stirrups, pointed towards the southern horizon. ‘Look at that mountain over there!’ The distant shape of the flat-topped summit was dramatically highlighted by the rising sun. ‘Surely it must be the mountain we flew over, the mountain on which the Masai prophetess lives.’
‘Yes, Fräulein. That is Lonsonyo Mountain,’ Leon confirmed.
‘Oh, Otto, it is so close!’ she cried.
He chuckled. ‘For you it is close because that is where you want to go. For me it is a day’s hard ride away.’
‘You promised to take me there!’ Her voice was dulled by disappointment.
‘Indeed I did,’ he agreed. ‘But I did not promise when.’
‘Then promise me now. When?’ she demanded. ‘When, darling Otto?’
‘Not now. We must return to Nairobi at once. This delay was an indulgence. I have important business to see to. This African safari was not all for pleasure.’
‘Of course not.’ She grimaced. ‘With you it is always business.’
‘How else could I afford to have you as my friend?’ Graf Otto asked, with heavy humour, and Leon turned away so as not to reveal his quick anger at the unkind remark. But Eva seemed neither to hear nor care, and Graf Otto went on, ‘Perhaps I shall buy property here. It seems that there is room for investment in a new land with such resources to exploit.’
‘And when your business is done, will you take me to Lonsonyo Mountain?’ Eva persisted.
‘You do not give up easily.’ Graf Otto shook his head in mock-despair. ‘Very well. I will make a bargain with you. After I have killed my lion with the
Once again Eva’s mood altered subtly. Her eyes were masked, her expression closed and cool. Just when Leon had felt he might glimpse something beyond the veil, she had become once more remote and unfathomable.
They rested the horses at noon, off-saddling in a grove of stately pod mahogany trees beside a small reed-enclosed pool in an unnamed stream. After an hour they saddled up to ride on, but standing beside her mare Eva exclaimed irritably, ‘The safety clasp on my right stirrup is locked. If I were to fall I would be dragged.’
‘See to it, Courtney,’ Graf Otto ordered, ‘and make sure it does not happen again.’
Leon threw his reins to Loikot and went quickly to Eva’s side. She moved a little to allow him to reach the stirrup leather, but she was close beside him as Leon stooped to examine the steel. Both of them were hidden from Graf Otto’s view by the body of the horse. Leon found she was right: the safety clasp was locked. It had been open when they had left Sonjo
