The Burning Shore

He barked into it. The line was bad, the background hissed and rushed like the sea, so Douglas Caithness's voice seemed to come from across an ocean.

Hello, sir, the guns have just come up-'Thank God, Sean growled.

I have deployed them- Caithness gave the map reference. They are hammering away already and the Huns seem to have run out of steam. I am going to raid them at dawn.

Douglas, be careful, there are no reserves behind you, I won't be able to support you before noon All right, I understand, but we can't let them regroup unopposed. Of course not, Sean agreed. Keep me informed. In the meantime I'm moving up four more batteries, and elements of the Second Battalion, but they won't reach you before noon. Thank you, sir, we can use them. Go to it, man.

Sean handed the instrument back, and while he watched the coloured pins rearranged on the map, the solution to his personal problem came to him.

Garry- He thought of his twin brother, and felt the familiar twinge of guilt and compassion. Garrick Courtney, the brother whom Sean had crippled.

It had happened so many years ago and yet every instant of that dreadful day was still so clear in Sean's mind that it might have taken place that very morning. The two of them, teenage scamps, arguing over the shotgun that they had stolen out of their father's gunroom and loaded with buckshot, as they trotted through the golden grass of the Zululand hills.

i saw the inkonka first, Garry protested. They were going out to hunt an old bushbuck ram whose lair they had discovered the previous day.

I thought of the shotgun, Sean told him, tightening his grip on the weapon, so I do the shooting. And, of course, Sean prevailed. It was always that way.

It was Garry who took Tinker, their mongrel hunting dog, and circled out along the edge of thick bush to drive the antelope back where Sean waited with the shotgun.

Sean heard again Garry's faint shouts at the bottom of the hill, and Tinker's frantic barks as he picked up the scent of the wary bushbuck. Then the rush in the grass, and the long yellow stems bursting open as the inkonka came out, heading straight up to where Sean lay on the crest of the hill.

He looked immense in the sunlight, for in alarm his shaggy mane was erected and his dark head with the heavy spiral horns was raised high on the thick powerful neck. He stood three foot high at the shoulder and weighed almost two hundred pounds, and his chest and flanks were barred and spotted with delicate patterns, pale as chalk on the dark rufous ground. He was a magnificent creature, quick and formidable, those horns were sharp as pikes and could rip the belly out of a man or slice through his femoral artery, and he came straight at Sean.

Sean fired the choke barrel, and he was so close that the charge of buckshot struck in a solid blast, and tore through the animal's barrel chest into lung and heart.

The bushbuck screamed and went down, kicking and bleating, its sharp black hooves clashing on the rocky ground as it slid back down the hill.

I got him! howled Sean, leaping from his hiding place. I got him first shot. Garry! I got him! From below Garry and the dog came pelting through the coarse golden grass. It was a race as to which of them could get to the dying animal first. Sean carried the shotgun, the second barrel still loaded, and the hammer at full cock, and as he ran a loose stone rolled under his foot and he fell. The gun flew from his grip. He hit the ground with his shoulder and the second barrel fired with a stu

When Sean scrambled up again, Garry was sitting beside the dead bushbuck, whimpering. His leg had taken the full charge of buckshot at almost point blank range.

it had hit him below the knee, and the flesh was wet red ribbons, the bone white chips and slivers and the blood a bright fountain in the sunlight.

Poor Garry, Sean thought, now a lonely one-legged old cripple. The woman whom Sean had put with child, and whom Garry had married before she gave birth to Michael, had finally been driven insane by her own hatred and bitterness and died in the flames she herself had set.

Now Michael, too, was gone, and Garry had nothing nothing except his books and his scribblings.

I'll send him this bright pert girl and her unborn infant. The solution came to Sean with a flood of relief. At last I can make some retribution for all I have done to him. I will send him my own grandchild, the grandchild I should so dearly love to claim as my own; I'll send to him in part payment. He turned from the map and limped quickly back to where the girl waited.

She rose to meet him and stood quietly, her hands clasped demurely in front of her, and Sean saw the worry and fear of rejection in her dark eyes, and the way her lower lip trembled as she waited for his judgment.

He closed the door behind him, and he went to her and took her small neat hands in his great hairy paws and he stooped over her and kissed her gently. His beard scratched her soft cheek, but she sobbed with relief and flung both arms around him.

I'm sorry, my dear, he said. You took me by surprise.

I just had to get used to the idea. Sean hugged her, but very gently, for the mystery of pregnancy was one of the very few things that daunted and awed Sean Courtney.

Then he settled her back in the chair.

Can I go to Africa? She was smiling, though the tears still trembled in the corners of her eyes.

Yes, of course, that's your home now, for as far as I am concerned, you are Michael's wife. Africa is where you belong. I'm so happy, she told him softly, but it was more than merc happiness. It was a vast sense of security and protection, this man's aura of power and strength was now held over her like a shield.

You are Michael's wife, he had said. He had acknowledged that which she herself believed, somehow his endorsement made it a fact.

This is what I am going to do. The German U-boats have been playing such havoc. A sailing for you on one of the Red Cross hospital ships that leave directly from the French Cha

Yes, of course, she must go with you. I'll fix that also.

You will both volunteer for nursing duties, and I'm afraid you'll be expected to work your passage. Centaine nodded eagerly.

Michael's father, my brother, Garrick Courtney-Sean started.

yes, yes! Michel told me all about him. He is a great hero, he won the cross of the English Queen Victoria for his courage in a battle against the Zulus, Centaine cut in excitedly, and he is a scholar who writes books of history. Sean blinked at the description of poor Garry, but of course it was factually correct and he nodded.

He is also a kind and gentle person, a widower who has just lost his only son- An almost telepathic understanding passed between them; although Centaine knew the truth, from now on Michael would always be referred to as Garrick Courtney's son. Michael was his whole life, and you and I know how he must feel at the loss, for we share it. Centaine's eyes sparkled with unshed tears and she bit down on her lower lip as she nodded vehemently.

I will cable him. He will be at Cape Town to meet you when the ship docks. I will also give you a letter to take to him. You can be certain of his welcome and his protection, for both you and Michael's child. Michael's son, said Centaine firmly, and then hesitantly, but I will see you also, General, sometimes? Often, Sean assured her, leaning forward to pat her hand gently. Probably more often than you wish.

After that it all happened very quickly; she would learn that with Sean Courtney, this was always the way.

She remained only five more days at the monastery, but in that time the German breakthrough at Mort Homme was contained by dour bloody fighting, and once the line was stabilized and reinforced, Sean Courtney had a few hours each day to spare for her.