"I'm sorry," Clark said. "I give you my word that I will never speak to anyone about my time here. I will never mention you or your people."
Her look made it clear that his word counted for little. "Are you going to get food and water from Gislane? Are you going to ask Romaric for directions?"
"No." He couldn't face another volley of questions. Another barrage of suspicion.
"So you do have friends waiting for you? Have you been in regular contact with them all this time?"
"No. No. I have no one waiting for me."
"Then what you're planning is a suicide mission."
Clark didn't care. He hadn't cared before he met Lois, and he didn't care now.
"Don't give me the suicidal self-pity line, Kent," Lois said. "I fell for that once before. I won't be so gullible again."
Clark had to get out. He couldn't stand another lash from the whip of her words. "Goodbye, Lois."
Without looking at her again, he strode from her hut, marched past the celebration preparations near the roaster, and left the Bangala people via the village gate.
The path to the quarantine area offered the easiest way forward. He sprinted. He passed the quarantine gate, refusing to glance its way for fear that the memories would rise up and seize him. The jungle became thicker. He chose the way that seemed less dense and pushed through, snapping some low branches and crumpling the undergrowth.
He tried to clear his mind against all incoming thoughts, but one crashed through his barriers.
He was running away. Again.
Part 34
Matymbou hadn't seen Gislane for over an hour, and in his opinion, that was too long for a new bride to be away from her doting husband, even if she was preparing sweet delights for him to enjoy after they'd devoured the roasted antelope.
His appetite had been stirred, but it wasn't the desire for food that drove him in search of his wife.
He moved through the village, stopping regularly to share a jovial comment or a quick laugh with members of his tribe. Weddings and births always filled him with buoyant optimism. And when the marriage involved him joining with the woman he had secretly adored for many months … He really needed to find Gislane.
Instead of going over to a group of women working the dough for bread sticks, he made do with a cheery wave and headed for the hut where Gislane mixed the batters for the cakes that were her speciality.
As he passed by, Matymbou glanced across to Lois's hut and hoped Kent was in there. The chief was confident that the more time they spent together, the harder it was going to be for them to resist what had been obvious to him from the moment he'd heard that a mondele had been found on Bangala land.
Lois - the woman he loved like a sister - finally had a man who would love her as she deserved to be loved.
His curiosity aroused, Matymbou detoured a few steps towards Lois's hut. He heard no voices.
Were Lois and Kent engaged in a form of communication that didn't involve speech? Matymbou smiled as memories flooded back of his time with Gislane that morning.
Every man and woman should have someone special to share that sort of love. Particularly his beautiful, feisty, intelligent Lois.
His feet stalled; his ears strained.
He heard only silence.
Perhaps Lois was with Rolle. Perhaps Kent was still helping Romaric.
Disappointed, Matymbou started to move away. Then, a muffled sound reached his ears and he stopped again.
It was coming from Lois's hut, and it sounded like a sob.
Could it be Diddi? Perhaps that truck he loved so much had been lost or broken. Or perhaps Diddi and Zephyrin had had another squabble.
Matymbou strode towards the hut, hoping it was the former. A broken truck was going to be easier to mend than a small boy's indignation at the dissolution of his mother's marriage.
Particularly when he, Matymbou, was the villain.
The chief poked his head through the doorway. There was no lantern lighting the hut, but even in the dimness, he knew instantly that the figure crumpled in the chair was too big to be Diddi.
"Lois?" he said, stepping forward.
Her head lifted, and tears glistened in her eyes.
Matymbou crouched beside the chair. "What's wrong, Lois?" he asked. "Is it Martha? Or Rolle?"
She used her sleeve to wipe her cheeks. "No," she said shakily. "They … they're fine."
Matymbou pulled up a large cushion and settled opposite her. "Is it Kent?" he guessed. "Did you and him have a fight?"
Lois stared at her hands clenched in her lap. "He's gone," she croaked.
"Gone with Romaric?"
She didn't seem to hear his enquiry. "He's gone," she repeated dolefully. "He said he had to go back."
"Back to your home? The very large village across the water?"
She nodded.
"He can't go back," Matymbou said. "There is no way. Didn't you tell him that?"
"Yes," Lois said. "I told him. But he said he had to go back. I got angry and shouted. He left after that."
Perhaps Lois was still tired from the long night with Rolle because she seemed to have accepted that the white visitor had left the village with the intention of walking back to his former home. Which, as Matymbou and Lois had discussed many times in the weeks following her arrival, simply wasn't possible. "I'm sure he will come back," he said, gently brushing his hand down her arm.
She shivered at his touch. "He wanted to go back. He said he had to go back to her."
"His wife?"
Lois's eyes jolted to Matymbou's face. "I'm so sorry, Matty," she blurted through another gush of tears. "I told you we could trust him."
Matymbou patted her arm. "Don't be worried, Lois," he said. "Kent needs time to think. Knowing a love is past is hard. But he loves you now. I know he does. He'll be back, and when he gets back, he'll be ready to be the man you want."
Lois slowly shook her head, and a tear spilled from her eye. "No, Matty," she said. "Kent can't come back. If he does … oh, Matty …" She gulped down a sob. "We need to be careful. I'm sorry. I was so wrong about -"
"Time, Lois," Matymbou said. "The sun crosses the sky. You will be with Kent as I am with Gislane. When Kibibi died, I thought I would never want a woman again. He'll come back. He wants to be with you."
"But the people … We have to protect them. If Kent comes back, he might bring others."
There were no others, Matymbou knew that. So did Lois - when she wasn't so distraught.
"It's good you didn't go after him," Matymbou said. "He needs to be alone with his heart."
"I wanted to go after him," she said as she wiped her eyes again. "I wanted answers. I wanted the truth. But I can't risk someone seeing me."
She needed a diversion. "Are Rolle and Martha doing well?" Matymbou asked.
"Yes. Sylva checked on them a short time ago."
"They don't need you?"
"No."
"Good. So you can do something for me?"
"I need to talk to Romaric."
"Romaric isn't here. Gislane asked him to get duck eggs for her sweets."
"I need to see him," Lois said. "I have to warn him."
"You don't need to tell Romaric you want to be with Kent. He already knows."
She started to rise from the chair. "I have to -"
"It can wait," Matymbou said, taking a firm grasp on her wrist. "There is something I like you to do for me."
Lois seemed surprised by his persistence, but she nodded as she dropped back into the chair.
"I told Lioli I would take her to see if the mud turtle eggs had hatched," Matymbou said, "but with the celebration and a new wife, I have found no time. Would you take her? It's not far - you'll be back before the antelope is ready."
"You want me to take Lioli to the river? Where the turtles lay their eggs?"
"Yes." Then, seeing the possibility for greater advantage, he added, "Can you take Diddi and Zephyrin, too?"
"Matymbou, I don't think you understand. This could be … I don't know. I really don't know what will happen now."
"I want some time alone with Gislane," Matymbou said allowing a little of his frustration to grate in his words. "That is what I hope happens now."
"Oh." Lois gave a small smile through her tears. "OK," she agreed. "I'll take the kids to the river. But when you see Romaric, could you tell him I need to speak with him? And tell him Kent has gone?"
Matymbou didn't understand why Romaric needed to know that Kent had gone, but asking questions would only delay his efforts to find Gislane. "I will go to Lioli and tell her to get the boys," he said. "She can bring them here."
"OK."
"Wash your face. Put on a warm jacket." Matymbou squeezed her hand. "It will be good, Lois. God sent Kent for you. Nothing will stop him coming back to you."
She nodded, but anxiety still clouded her light brown eyes.
Accepting there was nothing further he could say to convince her, Matymbou stood and went in search of his daughter and the two flying astronauts.
~|^|~
"What's wrong with Lois?"
Matymbou turned at Romaric's voice, repressing a sigh. The cooking hut had been empty, and he'd spent the last five minutes asking people if they'd seen Gislane and pretending he didn't understand their knowing grins. Finally, Nlandu said he'd seen her enter the chief's hut.
"Why do you ask about Lois?" Matymbou asked cautiously.
"She was crying."
"Did you get the eggs for Gislane?"
"Why was Lois crying?"
Matymbou knew he shouldn't be surprised by the questions - Romaric had an uncanny knack of knowing everything that involved Lois. "Something happened with Kent," Matymbou said.
"What? Did he hurt her?"
"No. He needs time to realise that what's past is past."
"Where is he now?"
"Lois said he left the village. He'll be back."
"How can you be sure?"
"He is meant for Lois. He can leave the village but he cannot run from God. And when he stops, God will turn him around and send him back."
"Did Lois say anything else?"
"She said something about not being able to trust him."
Romaric frowned. "Where is Lois now?"
"She is taking the children to see the mud turtle eggs. I wanted her to do something. Something to pass the time until Kent comes back."
Romaric nodded, seeming to understand and agree with his chief's actions.
"Don't track him," Matymbou said. "Not yet. He needs to fix his thoughts. When he comes back, I want him to be ready to pledge to Lois."
Romaric walked away, and Matymbou continued his mission to find his wife.
~|^|~
Romaric discovered Kent's whereabouts less than twenty minutes after leaving Matymbou.
The white man was slashing through the forest in a haphazard fashion that was unlikely to achieve anything other than exhaustion and hopeless disorientation.
Romaric paused behind a tree and watched as Kent shoved aside low branches and stumbled through the thick undergrowth.
Matymbou had said that Kent needed time to think, but the mondele didn't look to be expending much energy on thought.
Romaric checked the supply of short spears that hung from his waist and then settled in to follow the visitor. He would remain unseen while he awaited his moment.
When Matymbou had said Lois couldn't trust Kent, Romaric had understood everything. And he'd known exactly what needed to be done now.
~|^|~
Lois was sure Matymbou's request that she take the children to the river bend had more to do with helping her through what he deemed to be a temporary hitch than giving them the chance to see the baby turtles.
Matymbou believed Kent would be back. God had ordained that Lois and Kent be together and time was all that was required to make it happen.
As Lois's respect for Matymbou had grown, so had her acceptance of his faith in God. The modern, cynical woman she'd once been would have found much about Matymbou's worldview worthy of ridicule.
But Lois was no longer that woman.
If she had been, she probably would have been tracking Kent right now in the hope that he would lead her to his cohorts, where she would find definitive answers to her questions.
But as much as she wanted to know the full story of how Kent had come to be at the bottom of the corkwood tree, her obsession with finding answers hadn't been a driving force in her life for a long time.
Other things were more important.
She had to protect the people she loved. She had to ensure that Diddi and his friends could grow up in the simple idyllic community that was their birthright.
Kent's presence threatened that future.
Didn't it?
She would never believe that mere coincidence had brought Kent to Bangala land. And while God could have had a hand in it, she was sure there had been human influence, too.
Kent had spoken of Tempus, and that name should have caused her to question the fully formed hypothesis that had dropped into her mind the moment Kent had said he'd lived in Metropolis.
When he'd admitted to being a reporter, the hypothesis had solidified to undisputable facts.
In her mind, at least.
But if Tempus were involved …
Lois Lane, the dogged and driven reporter, had just about proven that Tempus was the power behind the lethal influx of weapons into Metropolis. Despite never being able to discover the source of his enormous wealth, she'd felt she only needed one more piece to be able to take her story to Perry and demand he print it. Her digging had led her to believe that the final piece could be found in the Congo. So, she'd taken extended leave and without Perry's knowledge, she'd gone to Brazzaville, posing as an anthropologist researching ancient African cultures.
At first, she'd trusted no one. But then, conscious that her time was evaporating, she'd become frustrated with the continual dead ends and she'd given up scraps of information in the hope of proving the association between gangs of criminal gun smugglers in Africa and Metropolis's most influential public figure, Mr Tempus.
But, she'd trusted the wrong person, and two men had stormed her hotel room in the middle of one hot night.
Their attempts to draw information from her had left her bruised and shaken, but she'd stuck to her story. She'd faked unconsciousness in the hope of gathering information from their conversations.
She'd heard them talk about 'The Commander' in awestruck terms that led her to conclude they'd never actually met the man who issued the orders but his past ruthless behaviour made him someone they feared.
She's figured they were talking about Tempus.
She'd been right. She'd gotten too close.
Tempus had moved swiftly to enact his revenge and protect his empire.
Lois had told Matymbou nothing of the lurking evil behind her capture. He'd been aghast at her injuries and horrified at her initial assertion that they were the result of deliberately inflicted beatings. So, she'd watered down her experiences and never actually provided any motivation for two men breaking into her room and taking her from Brazzaville.
She'd told Kent more - admitting she'd become involved in a gang illegally trading guns - because she'd figured a Western man would see the holes that Matymbou had missed.
She'd told Matymbou - Kent, too - that they'd left her to die.
But Tempus's success hadn't come by being careless with loose ends, and Lois was sure his orders had demanded her death.
Later, she'd taken comfort in that, figuring it was in her best interests - and those of the Bangala - if Tempus believed she had paid the ultimate price for daring to investigate his connections.
Then, Kent had come, and her old fears had stormed from hibernation.
But the squall of misgivings had been stifled in the wash of attraction she'd felt for him from the moment she'd first examined his very impressive body.
Not even the green pebbles had been able to hide his magnificence.
She'd rejoiced in a man of her own language and culture.
She'd pushed her fears back into the box and convinced herself that Kent's arrival was exactly as it appeared - a man seeking solace from heartache.
She'd been wrong. So very, very wrong.
His mere presence had been a threat.
But she'd been too enamoured to heed it.
"Maman!" Diddi called from above her on the incline. "We can see the river bend. And the eggs! They're still there! They haven't hatched yet!"
"Wait for me," Lois said. "If the eggs have started to hatch, we don't want to scare the baby turtles." She saw Lioli take Diddi's hand and Zephyrin step away, out of her reach.
Lois slowly climbed the slope. Kent had said he believed that Tempus had tried to kill him. Had Kent, as a reporter, investigated - just as she had? Had he followed the same pathways of enquiry and arrived at the same fate?
Kent coming to this particular part of the Congo could not be a coincidence.
But it didn't necessarily mean he had planned to follow her. Could it be true that Tempus had flown him to the Congo? And if he had, what did that say about Tempus's beliefs regarding Lois Lane? Perhaps Tempus saw some sick irony in using remote Africa as a dumping ground for the bodies of inquisitive Daily Planet reporters.
Kent had worked at her old paper! Known people she had known.
Like Perry. Kent said Perry had challenged Tempus in the mayoral elections. And then disappeared. Lois quashed the surge of her grief. Whatever had happened to her editor and friend, she couldn't do anything for him now.
She needed to focus her thoughts. She needed to work through the known facts until she was able to assemble them into a scenario that made sense.
If Kent hadn't known … if he hadn't deliberately sought her … if Tempus believed they were both dead …
The Bangala stood a chance of remaining undiscovered.
Except …
Except, the secret still loomed. She had sworn her silence. But a third person knew the truth. And she'd lived in perpetual fear that he would speak.
The ramifications caused her to shudder.
Had that third person told what he knew? Had his information led to Kent coming to the Congo, believing Lois Lane to be alive? Or had Tempus found out and ordered Kent to go and finish the job?
She wanted to believe that Kent had known nothing. She wanted to believe that he was a victim, just as she had been - that Kent had gotten too close to the truth and Tempus had disposed of him.
But what of Lana's infidelity? The baby?
Kent's desire to die had been real … and it hadn't been because of a story.
"Lois!"
Lois jumped at Lioli's sharp cry, and her attention snapped to the three children, still waiting at the top of the incline. "Yes, Lioli?"
"Couldn't you hear us, Maman?" Diddi asked. He giggled. "We called you over and over, and you didn't answer us."
"Ah … sorry." Lois hurried the final few steps and stood beside them. "What did you say?"
"We think one of the eggs is cracked, but we can't see it properly," Lioli said, pointing to the river bank below. "We want to know if we can go higher so we can see better."
Lois followed where Lioli had pointed. In the cluster of eggs, one had a small crack through the middle. "It's going to take some time before the turtle comes out," she said.
"Can we stay and watch it?" Diddi asked eagerly.
"Is that what you want to do?" Lois said, directing her question to Zephyrin and Lioli.
"Yes," Lioli said. Zephyrin nodded.
"OK, we can stay awhile," Lois said. She could use the time to think.
"Can we go and sit over there?" Diddi asked, pointing to a low cliff above the eggs. "We'll be right above them, and we'll be able to see really well."
Lois scanned the cliff for possible dangers. The eight foot drop into the water was steep, but there was ample room at the top for three children to observe in safety. "OK," she said. "But you'll have to sit down. And no pushing or messing around."
"I'll look after them," Lioli said. "We won't do anything except sit and watch the eggs."
"Boys?" Lois said, turning to them.
"We'll be good," Diddi promised as Zephyrin nodded.
"OK," Lois said. "I'll stay here. If I call, you're to come straight away."
Lois watched as the children continued to climb. She waited until they were settled, checked to see that they were far enough back, and then found a rock and sat down. She could see the children, but not the eggs.
She had no interest in the eggs - her mind was too full of Kent.
She'd been unfair to him.
The strength of her reaction was probably due in some part to jealousy. Lois understood his loyalty to his wife. She respected his stance that marriage couldn't be dismantled on a whim.
But Lana was undeserving of his loyalty.
She'd made a child with another man. She'd deceived Kent for weeks, allowing him to think a miracle had happened and the coming baby was his biological offspring.
She'd hurt him unbearably. Lois had seen the results.
How could Lana have been so cruel?
How could she have been married to a man like Kent and not known the tender state of his heart?
But she, Lois, had treated him badly, too.
She'd been scared and shocked, and she'd allowed her fears to manifest as suspicion and distrust.
Those fears were justified. Kent, assuming he managed to get to Metropolis, would face questions. And if Tempus had been behind his capture and expulsion to Africa, Kent's reappearance was going to cause the tyrant to ask questions.
Or worse.
Had Kent really left the Bangala for good? When he became hungry, would he return?
Would he re-think his crazy and impetuous plan of trying to get back to America?
Was his allegiance to Lana worth risking his life?
It wasn't, but Lois wasn't sure Kent would ever be able to see that.
Should she go after him? Should she find him and apologise? Should she allow him a chance to explain?
What if she was wrong? What if her initial belief - that Kent had a far more sinister agenda than recovering from a broken heart - was correct?
She stared at the three children sitting on the cliff, eagerly watching the eggs and sharing excited whispers at each movement of the shell.
Their future rested on Tempus never suspecting that Lois Lane was alive.
She couldn't go after Kent because - although her heart wanted to trust him - the last relics of her reporter's instincts were slithering through her mind, leaving a prickly trail of indecision.
So, she stayed. Did nothing. Watched the children. And waited.
~|^|~
Clark crashed through the trees, refusing to slow down because if he slowed, he knew the brutal reality of his situation would avalanche his heart and the pain would be unbearable.
He'd left Lois.
She hadn't believed him.
He deserved that. He hadn't been truthful with her.
He hadn't been truthful with anyone. Except his parents who had died and Lana who had betrayed him.
His only form of defence was to keep his body moving and his mind numb.
Ahead, a tree loomed high into the air, its trunk wrapped in a tight embrace by a leafy vine.
Clark raced towards it.
Something caught around his foot, and he fell heavily into the undergrowth.
He extended his hand to push himself up and froze.
Just a few inches from his hand was a large snake, its head raised in preparation to strike.
