Sahara Adventure Series

10. MADEMOISELLE JULIE-2

Zoelak jogs down the steps, runs out of the fort, and while running over the desert floor, his eyes constantly scanning the horizon. But the horizon is empty, and only the heat devils are dancing and frolicking there.

Zoelak catches the horse easily. It is plain to see that the animal is thirsty, which is why it had probably been heading toward the fort. The Russian’s heart races with shock when he sees the strange rider. He grabs the horse by the saddle bit and leads it on a short jog back to the fort while frequently looking over his shoulders to see if anything appears on the horizon. When Zoelak enters the fort with the horse, Zhakof awaits him. The surprised sergeant runs towards the horse and grabs it by the saddle bit. He is looking in astonishment at the rider on the animal’s back.

The rider is not a live person. It is a doll that had been fashioned from cushions and canvas and tied to the saddle. The doll is wearing a woman’s clothes, the clothes of a mature woman. Or no, it is rather the clothes of a young woman. A cold wave of shock and loathing courses through the hardened Zhakof. He closes his eyes for a while and hangs his head.

At that moment, Zoelak draws Zhakof’s attention to a small note pinned to the doll’s chest.

The Russian removes it quickly. On the outside of the note is written in clear script.

“The Commanding Officer, Fort Laval. Urgent.”

The Commanding Officer, Fort Laval. Urgent

Crunching through the sand of the courtyard, Zhakof jogs to the office of Captain Gaston Lefevre. He pulls the door open and salutes the limp figure lying with his face on the bureau’s surface.

“A message for you, mon Capitaine,” Zhakof says hoarsely.

mon Capitaine Lefevre lifts his grey, reeling head and looks at Zhakof in confusion. “Attention, Zhakof!” he shouts. “Where is your discipline?”

Zhakof quickly stands to attention, salutes again, and hands Lefevre the note. Lefevre fumbles for the note, but then he gets hold of it. He unfolds it tiresomely and looks at it.

Lefevre sounds nearly furious. “This is not a radio message!”

“They had brought a horse into the fort, mon Capitaine, the sergeant explains. “A doll had been tied on a horse.”

mon Capitaine,“A doll?!” Lefevre calls out. He starts laughing and flings the note at Zhakof. “I am not interested in dolls, Zhakof.” His tongue moves slowly and awkwardly. “You can read the note to me, which the doll has brought,” he says with disdain.

Zhakof inhales deeply, and his big chest pushes out to the front. “The doll is wearing clothes, mon Capitaine, woman’s clothes…”

mon Capitaine, It seems as if Lefevre had been slapped through the face with something. His eyes become unblinking, and his head jerks. Slowly he rises and leans heavily on the table with his hands.

“Woman’s clothes?” he asks with a heavy tongue.

“Qui, mon Capitaine.”

Qui, mon Capitaine.Lefevre snatches the note away from Zhakof, but he does not read it. Instead, he swings around the table, reels against the door jamb, and stumbles outside into the courtyard. His grey head appears to shine in the sun while walking and stumbling over his feet as he tries to run toward the horse.

Zhakof follows him and sees the captain grabbing the doll’s clothes in his hands. He holds it tight and brings it toward his sweating face.

“Julie,” he whispers through the silent heat. “I think this is my Julie’s clothes.”

“Zhakof!” he shouts, and his voice echoes against the walls. He turns around. “Zhakof, they have captured her. That scum had kidnapped her. These are her clothes. I am one hundred percent sure of it. They have murdered her, Zhakof.”

“Maybe it is not that bad, mon Capitaine,” Zhakof tries to console him. “What does the note say?”

mon Capitaine Dismayed, Lefreve slowly unfolds the note, and Zhakof notices the shock that had driven through the captain’s intoxication while reading the note. He holds it in his hand for quite some time before handing it to the Russian. Zhakof reads it slowly.

“The Commanding Officer, Fort Laval. Captain Lefevre, we have kidnapped your daughter, Julie, in Dini Salam. Right now, she is approximately eight kilometers away from Fort Laval. We will let her go if you should vacate Fort Laval. We will allow you to trek through to Dini Salam without attacking you. However, your daughter will die if you do not surrender the fort.

The Commanding Officer, Fort Laval. Captain Lefevre, we have kidnapped your daughter, Julie, in Dini Salam. Right now, she is approximately eight kilometers away from Fort Laval. We will let her go if you should vacate Fort Laval. We will allow you to trek through to Dini Salam without attacking you. However, your daughter will die if you do not surrender the fort.You will send an envoy today before sundown to come and collect her. After that, you will lower the Three Colour and hoist the white flag. No weapons shall be removed from the fort except those necessary for yourself and your garrison for personal protection on your way to Dini Salam. No stock in the fort shall be destroyed or damaged. We repeat. Surrender Fort Laval to us, or your daughter will die. Sheik Feisan, Leader of the forces of Her Highness, Madame Brigitte Bonnet.”

You will send an envoy today before sundown to come and collect her. After that, you will lower the Three Colour and hoist the white flag. No weapons shall be removed from the fort except those necessary for yourself and your garrison for personal protection on your way to Dini Salam. No stock in the fort shall be destroyed or damaged. We repeat. Surrender Fort Laval to us, or your daughter will die. Sheik Feisan, Leader of the forces of Her Highness, Madame Brigitte Bonnet.

“Dulacs,” Zhakof whispers. “The hordes of the white witch, Bonnet…”

“The hordes of the white witch, Madame Bonnet, white queen of the Dulacs,” Lefevre repeats vacantly.

Madame Zhakof looks urgently at the captain, but the captain is merely staring at the ground.

Then, finally, Lefevre looks up at the sergeant, and Zhakof cannot properly fathom the expression in his eyes.

“Zhakof,” Lefevre orders. “Let the whole garrison fall into rank except for the guards.” Lefevre then walks away quickly, back to his office.

Frowning, Zhakof walks away and orders the men to fall into rank. “Be wide awake up there!” he shouts at the guards on the battlements.

Within minutes the men have fallen into rank, standing at ease in the hot sun, waiting on further instructions.

Finally, Lefevre emerges from inside with his cap on his head and his shining officer’s staff in his right hand.

“Arabs!” one of the guards calls out suddenly.

Zhakof rushes to the gantries, followed by Lefevre, and climbs the stairs unsteadily. When he appears behind the battlements, Zhakof gasps and completely stops.

It seems as if the whole horizon is alive with Arabs. There are Dulacs, Dulacs, and more Dulacs, all sitting on their horses like statues.

He only becomes aware of the surrounding reality when he smells Lefevre’s brandy breath next to him.

“Round about two thousand,” Lefevre finds.

“If not more, mon Capitaine,” Zhakof answers.

mon Capitaine “Be on your guard here on the gantries,” Lefevre orders the guards. He swings around rapidly, walks to the stairs, halts, and looks steadily at the horizon. He shudders slightly and descends the stairs.

Zhakof follows him slowly, his thick neck glistening with sweat and his hands trembling. Finally, he passes the officer, an order snaps out of his mouth, and the men get to attention.

Lefevre joins Zhakof, who looks tiny and slim next to the huge Russian.

“Mes legionnaires,” Gaston Lefevre says. “Two thousand or more Dulacs have just appeared on the horizon. They are holding my daughter captive. The Dulacs have demanded the surrendering of this fort. Otherwise, she will die. They guarantee safe passage for the garrison to Dini Salam.”

Mes legionnairesHe remains quiet for a while, and then his voice trembles high through the silence. “To save my daughter’s life and all of our lives, I will surrender this fort to the enemy today.”

He staggers a little on his feet as if the heat and alcohol are too much for him to bear. Zhakof jerks where he is standing.

The men all frown and look in complete shock at their commanding officer.

“Their numbers are too great, and we will certainly die in any case if we do not surrender,” Lefevre states. He looks down at the ground. “I cannot leave my daughter at their mercy, as she is all I have left. I cannot allow them to t*****e her to death.”

He looks at the men again and tries to fathom their expressions, but their faces are now completely expressionless.

“Now I need one volunteer,” Lefevre says. “He has to go and fetch my daughter. I am asking for a volunteer because this mission has some dangers. You can never trust the Arabs, but we must do it. This is our only chance. So I once again ask for a volunteer…”

Nobody moves, and there is dead silence. Lefevre slowly looks over the men, one after another.

Zhakof is also watching the men, but his eyes have a different light than Lefevre’s. It is as if the big, robust Russian is trying to force the men with his eyes to do something.

“Is there no one?” Gaston had nearly spoken the words but did not get the chance, as suddenly there was movement.

A man had stepped forward, a tall, athletic, blonde soldier with bright blue eyes.

Private Teuns Stegmann, the South African in the French Foreign Legion, had stepped forward.

“Merci, mon ami,” Captain Lefevre says, and he struggles to hold back the tears.

Merci, mon ami