Gunwitch (17 page)

She had just decided she would wait five full minutes before heading back over the river to see what had been so hard to understand about waiting thirty seconds when a small shadow emerged from the cave and started across the river. The figure was smaller than Janett, and wore trousers. Margaret.

Rose had her hand ready to cover the girl’s mouth, but Margaret did not startle when Rose came out of the shadow of the bush. So Rose took the girl’s hand and pulled her back into the shadow.

“What’s going on?What’s h she asked, whispering.

“Janett is scared,” Margaret said. “Scared and tired and cranky. She’s refusing to try to jump from rock to rock over a river at night.”

Rose ignored the private and looked across to the island again. Nothing and no one. Only the water moved. After another three minutes, she gave up hope that Major Haley’s backbone would prove stiff enough to stand up to Janett. The private was right: Janett was headstrong, and she had the poor major well in hand.

She considered leaving her rifle, then took it because she did not want to leave it on the ground near the river, and because she might need it as a paddle for a stubborn girl’s bottom. Rose ran across the rocks again, wondering if she and Chal could manage to carry Janett between them, trussed hand and foot.

She did not hear anything until she reached the island and pushed through the entrance of the cave. The three of them, Chal, Major Haley, and Janett stood with their faces mere inches from one another, shouting to be heard over the waterfall and each other. The major had to kneel to be at the level of the girls.

“What is this then?” Rose asked, pushing her way between Chal and Janett, finding herself face to face with Major Haley. She turned to Chal.

Chal’s face showed more annoyance than Rose had ever witnessed. Even when the men had been dunking her, that night they first met, Chal had been more amused–and exhausted and scared and resigned–than annoyed. Chal did not get annoyed easy.

“Yes, it is,” Janett insisted. “I heard her–” She pointed at Chal, as if threatening to impale Chal on her finger. “–tell you that we could not be safer than right here.”

“Not forever–”

Janett pulled herself up. “I am not a child,” she said. “We do not need to stay here forever. Only until you reach the fort, and my father, and come back with soldiers to rescue us.”

Rose stared at Janett. “That is the stupidest–”

“No!” Janett cut her off. “You leading us tramping through the woods and the muck,
that
is stupid. While
you
were sleeping, our pursuers walked all around us and did not find us. This place is safe. So
you
go.
You
find my father and you bring him here.”

“There’s no food, and they–whoever or whatever they are–are all around us.” Rose looked at Chal, but Chal’s return look told her only that all these arguments had been made already.

“Then you had best be going quickly,” Janett said. “Bring Margaret back to the safety of the cave, and be off.”

“
Rose! Are you out there, Rose?”

The impossibility of the words, audible over the sound of the falling water, jerked Rose’s head up, and the voice sent a chill down her spine.

“Leave the native girl, of course,” Janett was saying, “as a chaperone. Though they have proved themselves proper gentlemen, it would not be proper for us to be alone with just Major Haley and the private–”

“
Surely, Rose, you didn’t leave this little girl all alone?”

Ducoed’s voice? Rose looked at Chal. Surprise had replaced annoyance in Chal’s expression. Rose’s left hand clamped over Janett’s mouth. “Be silent,” she said.

Janett pulled her head back and knocked Rose’s hand away. “Do not
touch
–”

“Major,” Rose said, “shut her up. Now.”

“
Oh! Here we are!
” the voice continued.
“You didn’t leave her alone, after all. You left her a bit of a nursemaid.”

Now even Janett heard the voice. “Mr. Thomas?” she said.

“
But I’m afraid it’s only a bit of him that is left. One of the soldiers, I see. Not the good major. A pity. Margaret is quite safe, though.
”

“Perhaps he shielded himself?” Chal said to Rose’s unspoken question.

“Mr. Thomas has found us!” Janett said.

“
Now, where is the pretty Janett? We mustn’t breakup such a beautiful set of little English dolls.
”

“Here I am,” Janett shouted. She pushed between Rose and Major Haley, heading for the entrance. “I’m in here–”

Rose caught her from behind and pinned the girl’s arms to her side.

“Now see here, Miss Bainbridge,” the major started. “Oh, I say, that’s quite unnecessary,” he added as Chal ripped a sleeve from Janett’s dress and stuffed the material into the girl’s mouth, gagging her.

“Shh!” Rose told him. Janett struggled against her, kicking and wiggling in her arms. She weighed less than a stone more than Janett, but the girl did not have a chance. A pity, Rose thought. The daughter of a colonel should know something about fighting. Rose saw Chal close her eyes, felt the first stirrings of power. “No, Chal,” she said. “He’ll feel that for sure. He hasn’t seen the rocks yet, so maybe he won’t see them. We’ll just have to risk it.”

“
I know you’re out there, Rose. I know you can hear me.
”

“Shouldn’t we go out to him?” Major Haley said.

“No,” Rose said. “We should
not
.”

“Why?”

“Aren’t you listening?”

“
I’m impressed, Rose
,” Ducoed said, his voice still booming. “
You really did go native. I wonder what that’s like, in all its particulars.
”

“Miss Bainbridge, the leftenant hasn’t said anything that would lead me to believe–”

“Our pursuers are all around us, Major,” Rose said. “Thomas Ducoed is an arrogant son of a bitch, but even he would not be so oblivious to danger. Unless he is also part of the danger.”

The major looked unsure.

Rose shook her head. Bloody officers. “He’s already killed Private Tishman, or stood by while the private was killed. Now he’s hoping to scare us out into the open.”

“
I’m going to go now, Rose. I’m taking Margaret to her father. If you don’t mind, do try to get Janett to the fort on time. I did give my word I would bring them both to their father. You remember their father, don’t you, Rose?
”

Major Haley looked at Rose, and at Chal. “How can you be sure he doesn’t already know where we are? What about Janett–Miss Laxton’s shouts?”

“He could not have heard her shouting,” Rose said. “Not over the waterfall.”

“
Imagine how surprised the good Colonel Laxton will be to see me and Margaret. Won’t that be a … pleasant reunion? Last chance, Rose. No? Perhaps I’ll see you on the way then, or maybe at the fort. Good night, Rose.”

Janett renewed her struggles, but Rose held her fast. “Shh,” she said into the girl’s ear. “Shh. Margaret is safe. For now. Ducoed won’t hurt her. Not yet. And we’ll get her back before he can.” She doubted Janett believed her. She was not sure she believed herself.

“What is going on here?” the major asked. “If Leftenant Ducoed is with our enemies, why is he taking Margaret to the fort?”

“Because that’s where Colonel Laxton is,” Rose said. And for something else. There had to be something else. Ducoed was vengeful, but this went past simple vengeance. It had to. She had no idea what else was going on. Fortunately, the major did not press the issue.

The booming voice did not return. The water continued to fall over the cataract, drowning them in a loud silence.

Chapter 9

Margaret

Comite Riverbank

1742 A.D.

As they walked away from the river, Margaret held Mr. Thomas’ hand with both of hers, still in shock. Her eyes were wide, her hair disheveled and smelling of bile. She was hardly conscious but she dared not close her eyes. The ringing in her ears drowned out the remembered sounds of Private Tishman’s last few seconds. If she closed her eyes, though, she would see those seconds all over again.

* * *

Cold hands, like long claws had come out of the darkness behind her, closed on her arms and pulled her away from Private Tishman. She screamed and screamed, calling out for Miss Rose, but the woman had already disappeared back into the cave in the middle of the river.

Private Tishman turned, bringing his rifle up, but that had been all he managed to do. Then the bush beside him came alive with claws that hooked into the flesh of his right leg and his stomach. Except it was not a bush. Something with thin arms and legs, like black sticks, with big hands that sported hands like curved pitchfork tines–which were now stuck in Private Tishman–rose from the riverbank and pulled the soldier off his feet so he dangled.

“Bloody fu–!” Private Tishman shouted.

Another of those creatures came from the private’s left, her right, and stuck him from that direction, suspending the man between the two creatures as if he were a bug caught in a black spider web.

“Run, girly,” the private said, looking straight at her. He coughed and gurgled as black points erupted from his chest. “Run!”

She tried to run, but the smell of death wrapped around her and cold fingers encircled her arms and lifted her off the ground. She struggled, but could only kick her legs. She could not hit anything. She looked up, to see what held her. The moonlight showed her a face with hollow eyes, pits in the face over a shriveled nose. The lipless mouth exposed rotten teeth.

She almost tore herself apart trying to get free, thrashing and kicking and pulling and screaming, but the black hands held her as tightly as iron bands. Where she kicked, her shoes rebounded as if she struck leather or wood. The creature that held her never made a sound.

Screams that were not hers pulled her attention.

Two more creatures had joined the two holding Private Tishman, one in front and one behind. Their long fingers were curved into hooks, and they dragged them through the man’s flesh, starting at his shoulders and raking down. His shirt and trousers were shredded. As she watched, his flesh curled up like ribbons around the black fingertips and blood flowed from the grooves. White ribs peeked out of his chest. He screamed again, and his mouth was open wider than any Margaret had ever seen. Then she saw that his cheeks had been cut as far back as his ears and she could see his tongue moving between his teeth–

She closed her eyes, but the image remained. And she could not to stop the sound of his screams. Even her own screams were not enough.

The hands put her down. Margaret did not dare open her eyes. She did not want to risk that she was mistaken. She would rather not know. She just ran toward the voice. “Mr. Thomas!” she shouted. “Mr. Thomas! It’s me. It’s me.”

She ran into a body, warm not cold, and arms, warm not cold, wrapped around her. “There, there, Margaret,” the body said, still sounding like Mr. Thomas. “I’ve got you now. You’re safe.”

Finally, Margaret opened her eyes and forced herself to look up. Mr. Thomas smiled down at her.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s really me. Did you think I had abandoned you?”

Margaret squeezed him around the chest. “Oh, Mr. Thomas …” She wanted to tell him that she had thought he was dead, and what she had just seen, but nothing came out but sobs.