horse on the nose and walked away to her own animal, buckled up the saddle again, mounted and set off at a trot, quickly breaking into a canter across the open ground towards the edge of the jungle.
Louisa walked her sweat-covered horse along a shaded jungle path lined with the peeling trunks and branches of eucalyptus trees. She had covered several miles and now she peered through the trunks in search of a hut in a small clearing that she knew was somewhere close by. A sudden roll of distant thunder made her horse uneasy and she patted its flank to calm it. ‘Easy, Merlin. It’s only the rain coming.’
A patch of brightness ahead signalled the clearing and the hut soon came into view on its far side.
A saddled horse was tethered to a hitching post outside the hut. She stopped alongside it, dismounted and tossed her reins around the same wooden bar. Thunder crashed across the skies once again, this time preceded by a flash across the sky.
As the sound of thunder reverberated into the distance, she looked around the surroundings before facing the door of the hut. It was ajar and, mustering her courage, she walked inside.
Hector stood on the other side of the sparsely furnished dusty room, looking out through an opening, aware that he was no longer alone. The only furniture was a rickety table leaning against a thick wooden pole - which held up the centre of the ceiling - and a couple of chairs.
He turned to look at her, his face sombre. But a second later it lit up with a broad smile. ‘Louisa,’ he said, walking over to her and wrapping his heavy arms about her to hold her in a grizzly-bear hug. She almost disappeared inside his embrace before he held her out at arm’s length to take a look at her. Her response was cold but he was not dismayed, as if he expected it. ‘You were so beautiful last night you took my breath away.’
‘Spiritual leader?’ Louisa asked him sternly. ‘That’s how you described my father.’
‘I didn’t mean it in quite that way,’ Hector said, letting go of her. ‘I was trying to control the conversation. It was politics.’
‘What do you know about politics? You insulted him in front of everyone, suggesting that he’s been little more than a guide through this damned rebellion.’
‘I had to bring him down a peg or two.’
‘You ever thought about trying to elevate yourself instead?’
‘I’m forever glad he doesn’t have your kind of debating skills.’
Her expression stayed unchanged.
‘Louisa. Please. He has been like a god to us. I needed the others to see him as a mere man . . . one who makes mistakes.’
‘And what about you?’
‘Come on. I thought you took a degree in politics.
It’s a game . . . Okay,’ Hector then added quickly, regretting the comment. ‘It’s not a game. I retract that. I’m not as eloquent as you. I don’t have your education. But you know what I mean. Of all people, do I have to explain myself to you?’
‘What makes you think you’re right? Why are you so sure you’re not the one making the mistake?’
‘I’ll tell you why I know I’m right. Sebastian operates entirely on passion. His kind of passion is the fuel that ignites rebellions. I could not do it. I admit that. He is remarkable. But passion is blind, Louisa. It does not know when to pause and inspect the wreckage created by its own fury.’
‘And you’re the new voice of reason and sensibility, I suppose.’
‘Is that so hard to believe?’
‘You’re out of your depth.’
‘You think so?’
‘We’re not dealing with honourable people. Neravista is a murderer. Amoral. A liar, cheat, thief, a torturer of men, women and children. For God’s sake, Hector. He’s playing you like a fish.’
‘Not a fish, a shark. And I’m in the pool along with him.’
Louisa rolled her eyes. ‘One of my lecturers used to warn about using metaphors in a debate since even the dullest wit can recover.’
‘Thank you,’ Hector said, trying to convey hurt in his tone.
‘Neravista can’t afford to lose power. If he loses this country he loses everything.’
‘You’re making my argument for me. Of course he cannot afford to lose. That’s why he has to make a deal.’
Louisa shook her head in frustration. ‘He’s not going to agree to anything that reduces his power.’
‘Don’t be so sure.’
‘He’s offered you autonomy?’
‘It’s a most important part of the agenda.’
‘Guarantees?’
‘We’re not at that stage of the negotiations yet.’