Sebastian Darke: Prince of Explorers (19 page)

Sebastian cast a bleary eye around the camp and saw that everybody else was up and moving around. Salah already had a pot of chai bubbling over one fire while Cal and his team were cooking fish over another. The smell of them made Sebastian's stomach rumble but he was too exhausted to care.

'Just a bit longer,' he pleaded, pulling the animal-hide blanket over himself. 'I was having a nice dream.'

But Cornelius was not to be denied. 'Stir yourself – we have to get on with building the raft,' he growled. 'I've allotted tasks to everybody, including you.'

Sebastian scowled. 'I think I preferred you when you weren't talking to anybody,' he said. He managed to get himself upright and, yawning and scratching, stumbled across to the fire. Before he even reached it, Keera was there, putting a big steaming cup of chai into his hands.

'Good morning,
mate
,' she said, favouring him with a dazzling smile, and he had to resist the impulse to groan. 'I saved you the biggest cup.'

'Er . . . thanks,' he said. 'Keera, this "mates" business . . . we really need to talk about it.'

'There's nothing to say,' she assured him. 'You have made me very happy.' She moved off to help Salah with the fish. Sebastian couldn't help noticing that the younger girl was grinning in his direction. Evidently Keera had shared the news with her.

'Oh, that's perfect,' he muttered under his breath.

He turned away, aware that Cal was giving him the evil eye from across the clearing but unwilling to face an argument so early in the day. He sat down on a log at the edge of the clearing and sipped his chai, feeling its warm sweetness reviving him.

There was a rustling in the bushes and Max's head appeared. He looked a little bashful and Sebastian surmised that the buffalope had been relieving himself.

'Good morning, young master,' he said. 'I trust you slept well?'

'I slept like a baby,' said Sebastian, recalling one of his father's old jokes. 'I woke up screaming every few moments.'

Max looked at him blankly. 'I didn't hear anything,' he muttered, missing the point entirely. He looked over at Keera. 'She's in good spirits now. Whatever you said to her, master, it seems to have done the trick,'

Sebastian sighed. 'It has not done the trick,' he said. 'It has dropped me right in the brown stuff. Now she thinks I want her as a
mate
.'

Max was puzzled. 'What's wrong with that?' he asked.

'Nothing, unless you happen to be a Jilith; and then it makes a big, big difference. She thinks I—'

He broke off as Keera came towards him carrying a whole cooked fish laid out on a flat green leaf.

'I picked the nicest one for you,' she said, placing it in his lap. 'Now be sure and eat up every scrap – you're going to need all your energy today.' She took the opportunity to stroke Sebastian's hair. 'You washed it,' she observed. 'It's all shiny.'

Across the clearing there was a crash as Cal set a metal cauldron down with more force than was strictly necessary.

Sebastian flinched. 'That's, er . . . just the river water,' he said. 'Good for your hair, they say.' He gestured at the fish. 'Thanks for this. Looks great. Now . . . why don't you, er . . . run along and get some breakfast for yourself?'

Keera bowed her head obediently. 'If that's what you want,' she said; and she returned to the fire.

'Young master,' murmured Max, 'she seems a bit
too
friendly, if you catch my drift.'

'Oh, you noticed?' Sebastian tore off a mouthful of fish and started eating. 'It's all your fault – you're the one who made me go and speak to her.'

'Yes, but I didn't think you were going to sweet-talk her.'

'I didn't! The whole thing's a misunderstanding. You see, to the Jilith, a mate is—'

The sound of Cornelius clearing his throat made everybody sit up and take notice. Sebastian saw that he had climbed onto a tree stump so that everybody could have a clear view of him.

'All right, everybody, you need to finish up your breakfasts quickly,' he said. 'I want to have the raft ready to leave here by the day after tomorrow.' He gazed around at his companions. 'I know it's a tall order . . .'

'From a short chief,' murmured Max, under his breath.

'. . . but I feel sure we can do it. While you lot were resting yesterday afternoon, I went out and marked the trees we need to cut down with an X. I've chosen jibara trees. The wood's incredibly light, which means it will be easy to cut down and manoeuvre and it should float well. The wood also exudes a sticky sap which will stop the water from soaking into it.'

'Oh, so now he's an expert on trees,' said Max. 'Is there anything that man doesn't know?'

Cornelius glared at him. 'I was told about jibara trees when I was researching a source of wood to make the battle chariot,' he explained. 'The Jilith have made canoes out of jibaras for generations – isn't that so, Cal?'

Cal nodded. 'It's good for canoes right enough, but I've never seen it used to make a raft before.'

'There's a first time for everything,' said Cornelius. 'Now, you and Galt will be our logging team. You'll be cutting down the trees and removing all the branches. It's hard work but I know you're up to it.'

'Lead us to it!' said Galt, lifting a stone axe, which in his huge hand looked like a child's plaything.

'Max, you'll be dragging the stripped trunks back here one by one, then Sebastian and I will assemble the raft.'

Max sighed. 'I knew I'd end up doing all the hard work,' he muttered.

Cornelius ignored him. 'Keera, Salah, you'll have one of the most important jobs. You'll be collecting the vines and then plaiting strong ropes from them. That's a skilled task, but I can't think of anybody better to handle the job. What do you say?'

Keera nodded and Salah gave an exuberant thumbs up.

Cornelius looked around. 'Any questions?'

'Yes,' said Max. 'Isn't there something more challenging I could do?'

'Challenging?' Cornelius muttered.

'Yes. I mean, I'm not being funny, but all I ever do is drag stuff around. Haven't you got something that requires a little more . . . brain power?'

Cornelius studied him for a moment. 'There's nothing particularly brainy about making a raft,' he said. 'It's all common sense. Let me see now . . . could you cut down a tree with an axe?'

'Well . . . no, but—'

'Could you plait a rope?'

'Obviously not, but—'

'Or perhaps you think
we
could drag the trees to the clearing and you could just lie there, eating fruit and having the occasional nap.'

Max looked thoughtful. 'I didn't realize that was an option,' he said.

'It's not. You'll do the dragging. End of story. Now, everyone, finish up your grub and we'll get this show on the road.' Cornelius climbed down from his perch and Max snorted.

'Well, it didn't take him long to get back on his soapbox,' he observed. 'We'll be promoting him to King Cornelius next.' He looked at Sebastian. 'What do you think about this raft idea?

'I suppose it makes sense,' admitted Sebastian. 'There's a strong current out there – I could feel it yesterday when I was bathing in the shallows. And it's true – it could take us many moons to cut our way through all that jungle. So long as the raft doesn't collapse under our weight, we should be fine.'

Max gave him a look. 'A proper little ray of sunshine, you are,' he said. 'Oh well, I suppose I'd better report for duty. Don't want anybody to accuse me of slacking.' And he lumbered off towards Cornelius.

Sebastian hastily ate the rest of his fish, aware as he did so that Keera was regarding him in silent adoration and that, on the other side of the clearing, Cal had gone back to sharpening his knife.

They worked all through the day. The jungle rang to the sound of stone axes thudding into tree trunks. Every so often there came a cry of 'Timber!' followed by the rending and crashing of vegetation as a tall tree fell to the ground. Meanwhile Cornelius and Sebastian accompanied the two girls into the jungle to collect as many vines as they could harvest. Luckily they were plentiful and they soon had a large heap waiting to be converted into ropes.

As the day progressed, Max started lumbering out of the jungle dragging a series of huge tree trunks behind him, and Cornelius and Sebastian rolled them into position to form a platform. Keera and Salah set to work plaiting the vines into stout ropes, and as each successive length appeared, Sebastian and Cornelius lashed it securely to its neighbour, bracing the whole structure with stout cross-pieces.

'What I wouldn't give for a hammer and some nails,' said Sebastian at one point.

'No need for them,' Cornelius assured them. 'The people of this jungle have been making canoes and rafts for generations without tools like that.'

The raft soon began to take shape. Cornelius had kept things simple. All that was required was a large floating platform that could be pushed along by a series of wooden poles; but he ensured that loops of vine rope were attached so that the travellers could lash themselves down should the water become turbulent; and he insisted that deep grooves be cut into the end of every log – the ropes would then sink in and stay in place.

They worked all through the first day, stopping only for a brief lunch of chai and the inevitable fish. Sebastian was already beginning to long for some roasted meat, but he knew there was no time to go hunting, and he was so ravenous, he wasn't about to complain. Once again, rather embarrassingly, Keera snatched up the biggest of the fish and hurried across to him with it. This time he felt that it wasn't just Cal who was glaring at him, but Galt too, who after all had been working much harder than he had. But it was pointless to try and stop her. She insisted on bringing her own lunch over so she could sit close to him.

'What will you do when we have found the lost city?' she asked Sebastian.

He looked at her in dismay. 'I suppose I'll be going back to my own world,' he said. He'd expected her to express disappointment at this but she just smiled.

'I am looking forward to seeing it,' she said. 'And to meeting your Jenna.'

He nearly choked on a mouthful of fish. 'Oh, but . . . I wouldn't expect you to leave your tribe,' he said. 'Your place is with them – and with your father.'

'He'll understand,' she assured him. 'Obviously we'll come back and visit from time to time. But I'm your
mate
now; my place is with you.'

Sebastian opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment Cornelius called everybody back to work and he was almost grateful for the excuse to get away.

As the afternoon wore on, the raft began to look as though it might actually function. By the time darkness fell they had what looked like a serviceable platform. After supper they fell exhausted onto their bedrolls and slept like the dead. But the following morning, at first light, Cornelius was shouting to them to get up and, after a quick breakfast, they went straight back to work.

The final parts of the deck had now been roped together. Cornelius subjected it to as much rough treatment as he could devise, kicking it, hitting it with stout cudgels, making sure that the ropes were strong enough; but Keera and Salah's blistered hands were proof of the hard work they had put into making them and they held fast. One of the last jobs was to find a different wood to make the long poles that would propel the raft along. Late that afternoon, Galt showed Cornelius a grove of maluba canes – slender sticks of hardwood that grew straight up out of the earth to an incredible height. Cornelius cut down a length and Sebastian tried to break it across his knee, but found that although he could bend it, he could not make it snap.