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Authors: Mary Jo Putney
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might wish to win. A goddess in golden chains. No wonder her eyes blazed with anger. Kasan raised both hands for silence and began speaking Malay in a powerful voice that carried easily to every man in the arena. "We gather here to begin a Singa Mainam in which Tuan Gavin Elliott, Captain of Captains and Taipan of Elliott House, will attempt to win the freedom of the beautiful Iskandra, a high-born lady of England. He will risk his life for the sake of honor and the lady." After an approving roar died down, the sultan shouted, "Let the Game begin!"
CHAPTER 7
Thinking the ceremony rather flamboyant for a New England sailor, Gavin stepped up to the obsidian pedestal when Sheng Yu said, "Make your first cast, Captain." The ivory dodecahedron was warm, like a living body. Gavin caged it between his hands and shook while he closed his eyes and imagined the result he wanted: escorting Alex Warren and her daughter from the Helena in London. When the image was so vivid he could hear the sea gulls, he opened his eyes and tossed the die onto the shining obsidian. It spun tipsily before settling into one position. Sheng Yu examined the symbol that came up. "The first task for Tuan Elliott is to climb the Cliff of Sorrows." There was an excited murmur.
Kasan gestured to the great cliff which made up the back wall of the arena. "You must climb that, plant your banner, and descend, Captain."
Gavin studied the cliff, which was nearly vertical and made of dark volcanic stone. "Why is it called the Cliff of Sorrows? "
"Twice invaders sought to attack the palace by scaling the cliff. Many men died." It was Sheng Yu who replied, and his expression implied that he wouldn't mind if Gavin suffered the same fate.
"If a banner is needed, I must send to my ship for the American flag."
"Take this." Face white, Alex unwound the narrow selendang which was draped from right shoulder to left hip, then offered it to him like a medieval lady giving her favor to her champion. "Be careful, Gavin."
He accepted the length of scarlet fabric, then bowed over her hand. "Don't worry, lass," he said softly. "I've spent a good part of my life scrambling through rigging on pitching schooners. Climbing is one thing I know."
She gave him a shaky smile, but her eyes were still worried. He took off his coat to free his arms, then wrapped the selendang several times around his waist like a sash. "Your Highness, I shall begin."
"Climb well, Captain," the sultan said. "I do not wish to see you die."
"I'll do my best to make this trial as boring as possible." Gavin crossed to the foot of the cliff, glad it would be in shade until midday. "The full force of the sun beating on the stone would make the climb much harder. Having chosen a promising route, he began to climb, ignoring the watchers who would find it much more entertaining if he fell and broke his neck.
Rock climbing was slow, patient work that couldn't be rushed. The surface was irregular enough to allow climbing, but the crumbly volcanic rock made it necessary to test each hold before transferring his weight. While easier than ascending a mast during a gale, it required strength and total concentration. A gamelan orchestra began playing, presumably to entertain the audience during his slow climb, but he never looked down to see. What mattered was the slide of bare hands and booted feet across the stone-searching, testing, shifting-when one misjudgment could mean his life. Once a lizard stuck its head from a crack and spat its tongue at his face. He was so startled he almost lost his grip. Luckily, the little beast disappeared back into its den without further challenge.
By the time he pulled himself over the top edge, he was panting, drenched with sweat, and every muscle in his body trembled with strain. The summit was a narrow volcanic ledge with a spectacular view of the island and the azure seas surrounding it, as well as ominous storm clouds in the distance. On the far side, the jumbled roofs of the
CHAPTER 7
Thinking the ceremony rather flamboyant for a New England sailor, Gavin stepped up to the obsidian pedestal when Sheng Yu said, "Make your first cast, Captain." The ivory dodecahedron was warm, like a living body. Gavin caged it between his hands and shook while he closed his eyes and imagined the result he wanted: escorting Alex Warren and her daughter from the Helena in London. When the image was so vivid he could hear the sea gulls, he opened his eyes and tossed the die onto the shining obsidian. It spun tipsily before settling into one position. Sheng Yu examined the symbol that came up. "The first task for Tuan Elliott is to climb the Cliff of Sorrows." There was an excited murmur.
Kasan gestured to the great cliff which made up the back wall of the arena. "You must climb that, plant your banner, and descend, Captain."
Gavin studied the cliff, which was nearly vertical and made of dark volcanic stone. "Why is it called the Cliff of Sorrows? "
"Twice invaders sought to attack the palace by scaling the cliff. Many men died." It was Sheng Yu who replied, and his expression implied that he wouldn't mind if Gavin suffered the same fate.
"If a banner is needed, I must send to my ship for the American flag."
"Take this." Face white, Alex unwound the narrow selendang which was draped from right shoulder to left hip, then offered it to him like a medieval lady giving her favor to her champion. "Be careful, Gavin."
He accepted the length of scarlet fabric, then bowed over her hand. "Don't worry, lass," he said softly. "I've spent a good part of my life scrambling through rigging on pitching schooners. Climbing is one thing I know."
She gave him a shaky smile, but her eyes were still worried. He took off his coat to free his arms, then wrapped the selendang several times around his waist like a sash. "Your Highness, I shall begin."
"Climb well, Captain," the sultan said. "I do not wish to see you die."
"I'll do my best to make this trial as boring as possible." Gavin crossed to the foot of the cliff, glad it would be in shade until midday. "The full force of the sun beating on the stone would make the climb much harder. Having chosen a promising route, he began to climb, ignoring the watchers who would find it much more entertaining if he fell and broke his neck.
Rock climbing was slow, patient work that couldn't be rushed. The surface was irregular enough to allow climbing, but the crumbly volcanic rock made it necessary to test each hold before transferring his weight. While easier than ascending a mast during a gale, it required strength and total concentration. A gamelan orchestra began playing, presumably to entertain the audience during his slow climb, but he never looked down to see. What mattered was the slide of bare hands and booted feet across the stone-searching, testing, shifting-when one misjudgment could mean his life. Once a lizard stuck its head from a crack and spat its tongue at his face. He was so startled he almost lost his grip. Luckily, the little beast disappeared back into its den without further challenge.
By the time he pulled himself over the top edge, he was panting, drenched with sweat, and every muscle in his body trembled with strain. The summit was a narrow volcanic ledge with a spectacular view of the island and the azure seas surrounding it, as well as ominous storm clouds in the distance. On the far side, the jumbled roofs of the
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