His heart quailed at the prospect. From early childhood he had longed
for greatness, craved recognition, adulation, standing. It was there
for the taking, but would the warriors and wordsmiths of the other
She-Kargo clans listen? He was not even twenty years old!
If only Clearwater was here! And Brickman too, with his flair for
action and his devious mind. It was impossible to discover what his
true motives were, but in their daring attack on the wagon-train, their
talents had meshed smoothly and - for the first time - they had managed
to work together without the usual backbiting.
Brickman, of course, would want to take charge, but his presence would
be a challenge that he, Cadillac, would have to surpass. And it would
not be like it was before. Roz had changed all that. She had restored
the balance. He was no longer the odd man out. Her presence had given
him the strength to face the woman he had lost and her chosen partner
without any of the past bitterness and pain.
It was a great pity the other two were not here to witness this change
and work with him in this new spirit of cooperation. It would have
made his present task a lot easier. But they weren't, and there was
not the slightest chance of them appearing magically over the horizon
if things got tough. For the first time in his life he was faced with
making major decisions without the steadying counsel of Mr Snow,
Clearwater and, yes, even Brickman. This was the testing time he had
both longed for and secretly feared. Roz, he knew, would help in every
way she could, but he had to set the goal, take the lead, the
responsibility - and the blame...
Cadillac walked over to where Roz was trying her hand at making another
batch of flat-bakes. She looked up at him and wrinkled her nose. '
'Fraid I'm not having much SUCCESS. ' He hunkered down beside her,
picked up an iron ladle and took a sample of the mixture, testing its
liquidity by pouring it back into the bowl. 'Too much water."
He tried one of the burnt offerings. 'And not enough salt."
Roz sank back on her heels with a sigh. 'I don't believe this! Only
three ingredients-bread-meal, water and salt.
How the beck can it go wrong?!" 'There's more to it than that.
There's the temperature of the cooking stone, the amount of mix you
pour on and the way you spread it." Cadillac took charge of the mixing
bowl, added more bread-meal and salt to correct the imbalance and
stirred until it achieved the right consistency. He then checked the
heat of the stone by pouring a thin stream of water onto it. 'That's
okay.
