.

.

.

8

When Slim tapped out the agreed signal and edged silently through the balcony door, everything looked comfortable and serene. Notwithstanding, he needed reassurance after twenty four long hours of worry. He went immediately to the bed and bend over the sleeping girl, laying his hand very softly on her silver and gold hair.

He looked over his shoulder at the man in the chair. "Is she ok?"

Jess nodded. "Shocked and tired and a bit battered, but yeah – she's ok."

Their eyes met in relief, but also with the understanding of what Chantal's initiative had put Jess through. Slim moved instinctively from the bed to the chair and bent again to put an arm round his friend's shoulders. "You too?"

Jess looked up and his eyes were glinting. "Ye-ah!" The word was scarcely breathed. Then his eyes narrowed in a mixture of pride and retribution: "But there's still gonna be hell to pay later!"

"What did she find out?"

Jess shrugged. "Ain't asked yet. Figured goin' through it once, to both of us, would cost enough."

Slim nodded understandingly. "I found Samson all right. He sent a message."

His dubious tone produced a laugh from Jess. "Pigeon or dog?"

"Dog. At least it was less likely get eaten on the way!"

"It'll find Keilder, no sweat, and he'll get word to the others," Jess reassured him.

"It already did," Slim told him and described how reinforcements had begun to assemble.

A look of satisfaction crossed Jess's face and he said: "Good! It helps to know we ain't on our own. If things go wrong, you can all come and rescue us." A teasing tone belied the seriousness of this prediction, but Slim was not fooled.

"Why? What are you two up to now!" He had no illusions about the combined Harper and Picard penchant for recklessness.

"Carlin wants me and the lady who's payin' me to eat with him today," Jess explained. "Guess I overplayed the cover story and he thinks I want him to take me on. There's no chance of gettin' out of it, so we need to make sure you have all the details of what's goin' on, as soon as Tal's ready to talk."

"I'm ready!" The voice behind them made them both jump. Chantal flicked the quilt away and got up from the bed. She looked a bit wobbly but glared at Jess in defiance of any suggestion that she might need assistance.

"Sit down!" Jess's voice cracked out commandingly and, the next thing she knew, she was sitting in the armchair he had vacated. Slim perched on the end of the bed and Jess leaned ominously on the mantle-shelf. Chantal had vivid recollections of the last time he had done that, when her father had come to collect her from the relay station. The resemblance to a thundercloud about to strike was only partially counterbalanced by all they had shared since. She pushed all these considerations aside as she marshalled her thoughts to convey the information she had gathered in the clearest way possible.

"The gate opens on to a path – almost a narrow stairway – leading into a huge canyon. As far as I could see, there is no other means of getting in and out. The canyon is circular and very deep. It's like going down into the mouth of hell! There are very small ledges, like goat-tracks, along the sides and it's riddled with clefts and openings. For adults, the access is very difficult. Children are more agile and less likely to break up the paths and small enough to get into the fissures. It's a natural mine – a diamond mine! The children are the miners. They work all day, digging and bringing up and sifting the soil. The labour is terrible – you can't imagine the horror of forcing yourself into the cracks – the heat – the cramps – the weight of the clay – the danger of falling. At the end, if they don't produced some diamonds, they get nothing to eat. If after a couple of days' starvation, they still haven't produced any, their water is cut off too. It's torture, pure and simple, but it's very clever. It spurs them on to work and it stops them hiding any diamonds, because not handing over diamonds means death! At night, they are herded back into the prison building that Slim found."

"How many?" Jess's voice was fierce and urgent.

"Difficult to tell. I think, perhaps, sixty, maybe more. I couldn't count in the dark. Work starts at dawn and ends at dusk. Everyone is driven in and out of the mine in a crowd. Some are so small, they get lost among the bigger ones, crushed and trampled sometimes too! It's hideous ... all so helpless …" Her voice faltered, but she drew a deep breath and continued firmly: "No-one is restrained at night. The guards aren't afraid of children. So, if you can get the door open, they'll be only to ready to escape, but I'm afraid many of them'll be too weak and exhausted to get far."

"I can imagine," Slim agreed softly. He thought for a moment. "They might be eager, but in darkness and confusion, we might lose a lot of them too, so just opening the door isn't going to be enough."

"Can they take shelter in the mine itself?" Jess asked.

Chantal shook her head. "It would work if the guards were not herding them up to the fort, but there's no chance of freeing as they're brought up from the mine," she assured them. "The guards are behind and in front, and you couldn't take out enough of them to allow the children to retreat into the canyon."

"And we can't just release them into the fort and hope they'll make it out of the main gate," Jess pointed out thoughtfully. "We need to over-run the fort after the kids have been put back into prison. They'll be safe enough there. But we have to take out Carlin and his men before we can hope to set them free."

"So we know how the rescue has to be shaped," Slim said. "We know the constraints, and we know enough to advise the Ranulfiar how to raid. And Carlin won't be able to argue his way out of it because we have a witness." He smiled at Chantal and told her: "Well done!"

Chantal ducked her head in a manner which was so reminiscent of Jess, when he was trying to avoid showing strong emotion, that it almost made Slim blink. Seconds later, he was wishing he could also vanish in the blink of any eye – because Jess and Chantal plunged into one of their stormy exchanges during which neither of them appeared to have the faintest concern that they were being overheard.

"Good. Now all we have to do is make sure Carlin ain't suspicious and we both get out of his company alive – again!" Jess reminded them. He stopped leaning on the mantelpiece and stood looming over the armchair instead. The thundercloud was clearly laced with potential lightning and, as he had threatened, there was hell to pay. Chantal looked up at him, mastering her apprehension and disguising it fairly successfully in an innocent expression.

"Again!" he repeated, in the tone she knew full well. Sure enough, his next words were: "You've got some serious listenin' to do!"

Now would be a good time to produce a little feminine meekness, but unfortunately there was no such thing in Chantal's make-up, at least not without strenuous acting. Completely disregarding Jess's contribution to her escape, she scowled defiantly and snapped back: "I did get out alive!"

"It's how y' sneaked in that's serious!" Jess told her, his voice a hair's-breadth from a snarl. Their eyes locked with all the challenge of two drawn knife-blades.

"I didn't just go," she protested vehemently. "I told you what –"

Jess cut her off short. "We don't do this stuff in writing – ever!" The raw emotion in his voice was a mixture of determination, exasperation and passionate hurt. "The only writing between us is this!" He grabbed the little flask of comfrey from the mantel-piece and brandished it under Chantal's nose. To Slim's surprise, she actually blushed. "Now," Jess drew a deep breath, ratcheted his growl up a couple of notches so that he did not sound quite so intimidating, and continued: "Did you leave that letter because you believe I'd try to argue you out of it?"

Chantal nodded, the corner of her mouth quivering a little on the edge of a smile. "Gamberro!"

"Yeah? And you do what I say? Siempre?"

Chantal shook her head, the smile gaining confidence. "Generalmente!"

Jess gave a totally unexpected snort of amusement and disposed swiftly of her assertion to any usual level of obedience. "I ain't holdin' my breath. But I am waitin' to know why you think I'd succeed in stoppin' you?"

"Because you have the –" Chantal stopped abruptly and another blush stole across her face as she glanced nervously at Slim.

"I'm waitin'!" Jess could be really persistent too.

"Because that's what men –" Another pause. "What women are supposed to –"

Jess raised an eyebrow and cut her short, softly and relentlessly: "Senorita Picard, nunca te comportas como se esperaba! You never do anything because other people do!" Then, even more softly, "You really think I'd thwart courage and strength, not to mention the comfort you're bringin' to those kids? I told you at Christmas – it's a gift."

Their eyes met again, but this time they were not challenging each other. Chantal nodded and let a real smile lifted her lips. Jess handed her the flask and said simply: "The word is partager! Next time, y' talk to me about it before you go harin' off. ʖComprendes?"

"Si, senor Maton!" The words were joking, but the emotion was sincere.

Jess's eyes too were full of mischief as he went on, "Besides, I wouldn't need t'stop you. Slim's much better at logical persuasion than I am. He'd tie you to the chair rather than let you do anything so mad!"

Slim was about to deny this prediction vehemently, but he was inherently honest and had to admit Jess knew him so well that it was close to the truth. There was no way he could imagine allowing Chantal or any other woman to take such risks. He was still grappling with the fact that Jess was perfectly prepared to do so, indeed it seemed to be a given strength of this outwardly turbulent relationship.

As if in answer to his misgivings, Jess reached out and twisted his hand in the shining strands of Chantal's hair. He gave it a gentle, reminiscent tug. "This weapon's on my side," he reminded Slim quietly.

A little silence fell between them all, but it was now a companionable silence which recognised that each of them had a part to play in bringing this rescue mission to a safe ending – a comfortable silence which acknowledged their loyalty and mutual support.

Presently Jess gave Chantal's hair a sharper tweak and, releasing her, ordered: "Tell Slim what you found again. He's got to pass the information to Samson and whoever else comes as back-up. Then we'd best get ourselves ready for the horrors of bein' entertained by Carlin!"

.

.

Research on mining conditions is at the end of the story.