Birds of Prey (20 page)

Hal squatted on his heels and watched the wood chips fly under the steel. ‘How old were you when the slavers caught you, Aboli?’ he asked, and the dextrous black hands paused in
their task.

A shadow passed behind the dark eyes, but Aboli started working again before he replied, ‘I do not know, only that I was very young.’

‘Do you remember it, Aboli?’

‘I remember that it was night when they came, men in white robes with long muskets. It was so long ago, but I remember the flames in the darkness as they surrounded our village.’

‘Where did your people live?’

‘Far to the north. On the shores of a great river. My father was a chief yet they dragged him from his hut and killed him like an animal. They killed all our warriors, and spared only the
very young children and the women. They chained us together in lines, neck to neck, and made us march, many days, towards the rising of the sun, down to the coast.’ Aboli stood up abruptly,
and picked up the bundle of clubs he had finished. ‘We talk like old women while we should be hunting.’

He started back through the trees the way they had come. When they reached the lagoon again, he looked back at Hal. ‘Leave your musket and powder flask here. They will be no use to you in
the water.’

As Hal hid his weapon in the undergrowth, Aboli selected a pair of the lightest and straightest of the
iwisa
. When Hal returned he handed him the clubs. ‘Watch me. Do what I
do,’ he ordered, as he stripped off his clothing and waded out into the shallows of the lagoon. Hal followed him, naked, into the thickest stand of reeds.

Waist deep, Aboli stopped and pulled the stems of the tall reeds over his head plaiting them together to form a screen over himself. Then he sank down into the water, until only his head was
exposed. Hal took up a position not far from him, and quickly built himself a similar roof of reeds. Faintly he could hear the voices of the watering party from the
Gull
, and the squeaking
of their oars as they rowed back from the head of the lagoon where they had filled their casks from the sweet-water stream.

‘Good!’ Aboli called softly, ‘Be ready now, Gundwane! They will put the birds into the air for us.’

Suddenly there was a roar of wings, and the sky was filled with the same vast cloud of birds they had watched before. A flight of ducks that looked like English mallard, except for their bright
yellow bills, sped in a low V-formation towards where they were hidden.

‘Here they come,’ Aboli warned him, in a whisper, and Hal tensed, his face turned upwards to watch the old drake that led the flock. His wings were like knife blades as they stabbed
the air with quick, sharp strokes.

‘Now!’ shouted Aboli, and sprang up to his full height, his right arm already cocked back with the
iwisa
in his fist. As he hurled it cartwheeling into the air, the line of
wild duck flared in panic.

Aboli had anticipated this reaction and his spinning club caught the drake in the chest and stopped him dead. He fell in a tangle of wings and webbed feet, trailing feathers, but long before he
struck the water Aboli had hurled his second club. It spun up to catch a younger bird, snapping her outstretched neck and dropping her close beside the floating carcass of the old drake.

Hal hurled his own sticks in quick succession, but both flew well wide of his mark and the splintered flock raced away low over the reed beds.

‘You will soon learn, you were close with both your throws,’ Aboli encouraged him, as he splashed through the reeds, first to pick up the dead birds, and then to recover his
iwisa
. He floated the two carcasses in a pool of open water in front of him, and within minutes they had decoyed in another whistling flock that dropped almost to the tops of the reeds
before he threw at them.

‘Good throw, Gundwane!’ Aboli laughed at Hal as he waded out to pick up another two dead birds. ‘You were closer then. Soon you may even hit one.’

Despite this prophecy, it was mid-morning before Hal brought down his first duck. Even then it was broken-winged, and he had to plunge and swim after it half-way down the lagoon before he could
get a hand to it and wring its neck. In the middle of the day the birds stopped flighting and sat out in the deeper water where they could not be reached.

‘It’s enough!’ Aboli put an end to the hunt, and gathered up his kill. From a tree at the water’s edge he cut strips of bark and twisted these into strings to tie the
dead ducks into bunches. They made up a load almost too heavy for even his broad shoulders to bear but Hal carried his own meagre bag without difficulty as they trudged back along the beach.

When they came round the point and could look into the bay where the three ships lay at anchor, Aboli dropped his burden of dead birds to the sand. ‘We will rest here.’ Hal sank down
beside him, and for a while they sat in silence, until Aboli asked, ‘Why has the Buzzard come here? What does your father say?’

‘The Buzzard says he has come to make a Lodge for my initiation.’

Aboli nodded. ‘In my own tribe the young warrior had to enter the circumcision lodge before he became a man.’

Hal shuddered and fingered his crotch as if to check that all was still in place. ‘I am glad I will not have to give myself to the knife, as you did.’

‘But that is not the true reason that the Buzzard has followed us here. He follows your father as the hyena follows the lion. The stink of treachery is strong upon him.’

‘My father has smelt it also,’ Hal assured him softly. ‘But we are at his mercy, for the
Resolution
has no mainmast and the cannon are out of her.’

They both stared down the lagoon at the
Gull of Moray
, until Hal stirred uneasily. ‘What is the Buzzard up to now?’

The longboat from the
Gull
was rowing out from her side to where her anchor cable dipped below the surface of the lagoon. They watched the crew of the small boat latch onto it and work
there for several minutes.

‘They are screened from the beach, so my father cannot see what they are up to.’ Hal was thinking aloud. ‘’Tis a furtive air they have about them, and I like it not at
all.’

As he spoke the men finished their secretive task and began to row back to the
Gull
’s side. Now Hal could make out that they were laying a second cable over their stern as they
went. At that he sprang to his feet in agitation. ‘They are setting a spring to their anchor!’ he exclaimed.

‘A spring?’ Aboli looked at him. ‘Why would they do that?’

‘So that with a few turns of the capstan the Buzzard can swing his ship in any direction he chooses.’

Aboli stood up beside him, his expression grave. ‘That way he can train his broadside of cannon on our helpless ship or sweep our encampment on the beach with grape shot,’ he said.
‘We must hurry back to warn the captain.’

‘No, Aboli, do not hurry. We must not alert the Buzzard to the fact that we have spotted his trick.’

S
ir Francis listened intently to what Hal was saying, and when his son had finished he stroked his chin reflectively. Then he sauntered to the
rail of the
Resolution
and casually raised his telescope to his eye. He made a slow sweep of the wide expanse of the lagoon, barely pausing as his gaze passed over the
Gull
so that no
one could mark his sudden interest in the Buzzard’s ship. Then he closed the telescope and came back to where Hal waited. There was respect in Sir Francis’s eyes as he said, ‘Well
done, my boy. The Buzzard is up to his usual tricks. You were right. I was on the beach and could not see him setting the spring. I might never have noticed it.’

‘Are you going to order him to remove it, Father?’

Sir Francis smiled and shook his head. ‘Better not to let him know we have tumbled to him.’

‘But what can we do?’

‘I already have the culverins on the beach trained on the
Gull
. Daniel and Ned have warned every man—’

‘But, Father, is there no ruse we can prepare for the Buzzard to match the surprise he clearly plans for us?’ In his agitation Hal found the temerity to interrupt, but his father
frowned quickly and his reply was sharp.

‘No doubt you have a suggestion, Master Henry.’

At this formal address Hal was warned of his father’s rising anger, and he was immediately contrite. ‘Forgive my presumption, Father, I meant no impertinence.’

‘I am pleased to hear that.’ Sir Francis began to turn away, his back still stiff.

‘Was not my great-grandfather, Charles Courtney, with Drake at the battle of Gravelines?’

‘He was, indeed.’ Sir Francis looked round. ‘But as you already know the answer well enough, is this not a strange question to put to me now?’

‘So it may well have been Great-grandfather himself who proposed to Drake the use of devil ships against the Spanish Armada as it lay anchored in Calais Roads, may it not?’

Slowly Sir Francis turned his head and stared at his son. He began to smile, then to chuckle, and at last burst out laughing. ‘Dear Lord, but the Courtney blood runs true! Come down to my
cabin this instant and show me what it is you have in mind.’

Sir Francis stood at Hal’s shoulder as he sketched a design on the slate. ‘They need not be sturdily constructed, for they will not have far to sail, and will have no heavy seas to
endure,’ Hal explained deferentially.

‘Yes, but once they are launched they should be able to hold a true course, and yet carry a goodly weight of cargo,’ his father murmured, and took the chalk from his son. He drew a
few quick lines on the slate. ‘We might lash two hulls together. It would not do to have them capsize or expend themselves before they reach their destination.’

‘The wind has been steady from the sou’-east ever since we have been anchored here,’ said Hal. ‘There is no sign of it dropping. So we must hold them up-wind. If we place
them on the small island across the channel, then the wind will work for us when we launch them.’

‘Very well.’ Sir Francis nodded. ‘How many do we need?’ He could see how much pleasure he gave the lad by consulting him in this fashion.

‘Drake sent in eight against the Spaniards, but we do not have the time to build so many. Five, perhaps?’ He looked up at his father, and Sir Francis nodded again.

‘Yes, five should do it. How many men will you need? Daniel must remain in command of the culverins on the beach. The Buzzard may spring his trap before we are ready. But I will send Ned
Tyler and the carpenter to help you build them – and Aboli, of course.’

Hal stared at his father in awe. ‘You will trust me to take charge of the building?’ he asked.

‘It is your plan so if it fails I must be able to lay full blame upon you,’ his father replied, with only the faintest smile upon his lips. ‘Take your men and go ashore at once
to begin work. But be circumspect. Don’t make it easy for the Buzzard.’

H
al’s axemen cleared a small opening on the far side of the heavily forested island across the channel where they were hidden from the
Gull of Moray
. After a circuitous detour through the forest on the mainland, he was also able to ferry his men and material across to the island out of sight of the lookouts on the
Buzzard’s vessel.

That first night they worked by the wavering light of pitch-soaked torches until after midnight. All of them were aware of the urgency of their task, and when they were exhausted they simply
threw themselves on the soft bed of leaf mould under the trees and slept until the dawn gave enough light to begin work again.

By noon of the following day all five of the strange craft were ready to be carried to their hiding place in the grove at the edge of the lagoon. At low tide, Sir Francis waded across from the
mainland and made his way down the footpath through the dense forest that covered the island to inspect the work.

He nodded dubiously. ‘I hope sincerely that they will float,’ he mused, as he walked slowly round one of the ungainly vessels.

‘We will only know that when we send them out for the first time.’ Hal was tired, and his temper was short. ‘Even to please you, Father, I cannot arrange a prior demonstration
for the benefit of Lord Cumbrae.’

His father glanced at him, concealing his surprise. The puppy grows into a young dog and learns how to growl, he thought, with a twinge of paternal pride. He demands respect, and, truth to tell,
he has earned it.

Aloud he said, ‘You have done well in the time at your disposal,’ which deftly turned aside Hal’s anger. ‘I will send fresh men to help you transport them, and place them
in the grove.’

H
al was so tired that he could barely drag himself up the rope ladder to the entryport of the
Resolution
. But even though his task was
complete, his father would not let him escape to his cabin.

‘We are anchored directly behind the
Gull
.’ He pointed across the moonlit channel at the dark shape of the other ship. ‘Have you thought what might happen if one of your
fiendish vessels drifts past the mark and comes down upon us here? Dismasted as we are, we cannot manoeuvre the ship.’

‘Aboli has already cut long bamboo poles in the forest.’ Hal’s tone could not conceal that he was weary to his bones. ‘We will use them to deflect any drifters from us
and send them harmlessly up onto the beach over there.’ He turned and pointed back towards where the fires of the encampment flickered among the trees. ‘The Buzzard will be taken by
surprise, and will not be equipped with bamboo poles.’

At last his father was satisfied. ‘Go to your rest now. Tomorrow night we will open the Lodge, and you must be able to make your responses to the catechism.’

H
al came back reluctantly from the abyss of sleep into which he had sunk. For some moments he was not certain what had woken him. Then the soft
scratching came again from the bulkhead.

Instantly he was fully awake, every vestige of fatigue forgotten. He rolled off his pallet, and knelt at the panel. The scratching was now impatient and demanding. He tapped a swift reply on the
woodwork, then fumbled in the darkness to find the stopper of his peep-hole. The moment he removed it, a yellow ray of lamp-light shone through but was cut off as Katinka placed her lips to the
opening on the far side and whispered angrily, ‘Where were you last night?’