HF - 01 - Caribee (30 page)

'You'd have me get into debt, you rascals?
’

'Sure, and ye're a gentleman, Mr Hilton,' O'Reilly pointed out. 'Gentlemen are ever in debt.'

'You've a mind to practise your popery in private, I reckon,' Hilton said. 'Build me a fortress, O'Reilly, and I'll be prepared to consider the rest. But by Christ I'm offering no haven for layabouts. Work, God damn you, and then we'll talk. You're overseer, O'Reilly. See to it.'

'Ye're a fair man, Mr Hilton. I'll see to it.' O'Reilly picked up the axe, looked at it for a moment, and swung it against the bole of the first tree. His followers gave a whoop, and seized their tools with the
avidity of children seeking th
eir toys.

‘
You have a way with you, Tony,' Edward said. "You'd make a good governor. A be
tt
er governor than Father.'

‘I
doubt I quite possess his purpose,' Hilton said. 'But then, you could say that I also lack his years. You'll follow me?' 'Where?'

'Why, Ned, we must choose a site for the planting. I'm superstitious. I'll not return to that mangled field.'

'And you'll leave Susan alone with those Irish vagabonds?'

Hilton smiled. 'You've forgo
tt
en she's one herself. Oh, they're to be trusted, Ned. They only want to be allowed to live their own lives. The promise of that will keep them at work.'

He stamped through the earth and the trees, away from the sound of the axes and the rasp of the saws. 'When last were you on the windward side?"

'But once in my life. During the spell I lived with the Caribs.'

'Caribee. And so you took no part in the slaughter.'
‘
You criticize me for that?"

‘I
envy your courage, to be a coward, on such an occasion.' He went down a slope; the trees thinned and they re-emerged onto the beach. The sea pounded the shore in front of them in an unceasing roar, and they had to shout to make themselves heard.
‘I
have no regrets that I was on my way back here when it happened. I only wish the Caribs were themselves aware of that fact.'

'You think
this
raid was a reprisal? How could they know?
’
And how his heart pounded. Wapisiane. Wapisiane. Wapisiane. What was it Bloody Mary had said of Calais?

'Now that I do not know,' Hilton confessed. 'But it would be appropriate.'

'And wou
ld you have ordered it differentl
y, had you been governor?'

'Probably not. When you undertake grave responsibility, you must needs undertake all the unpleasant tasks that go with it. You'll have to strengthen that stomach of yours, Ned, if you'd rule.'

'Me?
’

Hilton glanced at him, and continued on his way, down the beach toward the water, while Edward followed, and wondered; surely he could not mean to plant tobacco here.

‘It
will be your responsibility, one day, no ma
tt
er what decision he has made this time. My only quarrel with your father is his admi
tt
ance of the French, and in such numbe
rs. But then, no doubt he is born
under a lucky star, or there was some arrangement of which the rest of us know nothing. As Monsieur Belain has sailed away with the most of his men, having paid two good cannon and his good name for the privilege of se
tt
ling here. It makes a man wonder, indeed it does.' He stood before the sea, hands on hips. 'Over here life is different, Ned. You feel it every morning when you awaken. The breeze has a bite to it, the sea a roar. And when the wind blows, lad, 'tis
that
hurricane all over again. And we have not yet been hit by a proper storm. I see, in time, this island, small as it is, breeding two separate races of people, the leeward se
tt
lers and
the windward. Much as your York
shireman differs from your man of Kent.'

'And then there are those,' Edward said. 'Who are able to span the pair. Like the men of Suffolk.'

To be sure. You wear a sword. Have you any knowledge of its use?
’

It came so suddenly that he jumped backwards in alarm. And yet, he had never doubted that Hilton had an ulterior motive in bringing him here.

'You're nervous,' Hilton remarked.
‘I
thought I'd made myself clear, why, two years ago.'

Edward licked his lips. Was dissimulation possible? Was it what he wanted? Was he afraid? Yes. But incredibly, not of facing Tony Hilton with a sword in his hand. They were much of the same size, and there was no difference in muscle. Nor, he was sure, had Hilton ever received any fencing lessons. The difference, if it existed, lay in the mind, in the determination to kill. He had never killed. He had never done a great number of things. As Susan had said, so shrewdly, he had never shaken of
f the protecting, smoth
ering cloak of boyhood, of being Tom Warner's son
, however much he hated his fath
er.

‘It
was my doing,' he said. 'She was alone
on the beach when I came, and I
remembered too much about four years ago.'

'By God,' Hilton remarked at large.
‘You
have all the instincts of a
gentle
man.' He drew his sword, thumbed the point. 'And yet she neither resisted you nor screamed rape. Indeed, as we searched long and hard and found nothing, nor obtained a reply to our signals, and by your own admission you are a stranger over here, it would seem drat she certainly played her part, to some extent.'

'And you'd revenge yourself on a mind already weakened by adversity?'

Hilton smiled, but there was no amusement in his eyes.
‘In
due course, Ned. Unless you'd stop me.'

Edward dragged the blade from his scabbard, thrust his right leg forward and swung, right to left and then ba
ck again, the sword scything th
rough the air with an audible whistle, such was the force of the sweeps. But Hilton was back out of range, although now he thrust forward to meet Edward's third swing, and the blades clanged together
with
an echo which rang across the beach.

'Spirit, by God,' Hliton said. 'Now that I like. I'd thought you were beyond it.'

Edward panted for breath, looked along the sword. Did he want to kill
his friend? If he did not, he mu
st stop now. There was no point in fighting, except to the death. Age against experience. Only quite different to what he had once feared. And did Tony have any experience?

He moved forward, point drifting from side to side. Hilton watched him, and then brought up his own blade. They touched with the faintest ping, and then slithered against each other; when Edward moved his blade to the right Hilton went with it, forcing his right arm wide, and then whipping back towards Edward's unprotected chest. Now it was his turn to leap backwards, but not before a sliver of flesh was removed from his breast, to bring blood rolling down his belly and into his breeches.

'Stop it. Stop it, ye silly men.'

Susan ran across the sand, hair flying, and nightdress too, feet scuffling sand into the breeze.

Hilton lowered his sword, still gazing at Edward.
‘I
did not mean to scar you.'

"You....' Edward looked down at the blood, and then rushed forward. But Hilton was not there to meet him; he had skipped aside and there was only Susan, tangling up his legs to bring them both tumbling to the ground.

'Now put up your sword,' Hilton said, standing above them. 'And Susan, you'll tend to his chest'

They stared at the great smiling gash of a mouth. Then the woman crawled away from Edward and rose to her knees.

Hilton sheathed his sword, extended his hand. 'Come, Ned.'

Edward got up. 'You were but waiting her coming. I do not understand. Christ, my head is in a whirl.'

'And you, Susan.' Hilton took her hand as well. "You'd not know the light in your eye, girl. I hav
e seen nothing like it these th
ree years.'

She bit her lip, and then pulled hair from her eyes. 'Last night, this morning, I wished to live again.'

He nodded.
‘I
'd never supposed your brain was dead. Only asleep. Can you stop that blood?
’

She hesitated, then stooped to tear a strip from her nightdress, winch she too
k down to the water to soak, wh
ile Edward cleaned sand from his blade. 'Then we have a problem, still, Tony. Or were you playing a game?
’

'A game?
" Hilton sat down. 'Oh, we have a problem, Ned. But 'tis only a symptom of the whole. There is a problem, here on Merwar's Hope. A problem of freedom. I would be free.'

'My father has granted you that.'

'You think so? Provided I practise Christian morality. Suppose I chose not to? Would he not set his militia at my throat?'

'Christian morality?
’

‘
You've never considered the ma
tt
er.' He pointed, at his wife coming up the beach.
‘I
love that girl, Ned. I love the feel of her. I love to lie on her, and I love to feel her lying on me.
With
out her I doubt I'd stay here. I'd go to sea and
become a pirate. And hang, with
in a year, as the
y all do. And I have known noth
ing from her save passive obedience. You have known the fire in her eyes, felt the fire in her belly.'

Susan came up to them, knelt before Edward, cleaned the already dryi
ng blood from the scratch on hi
s chest.

'A good reason for you to hate me,' Edward said.

'Oh, indeed. Were I a Christian gentl
eman. ‘B
ut then, I am not, in my heart. Are you a Christian lady, Susan?"

She glanced at him. Colour hovered in her sunbrowned cheeks, threatening to overwhelm them and
then
fading again. She was uncertain and a li
tt
le frightened. But then, Edward realized, so was he. 'You know me, sir," she said.
‘I
do not understand your drift.'

'Would yon thud your belly against mine, girl, if Edward possessed your lips?"

'By Christ," Edward said. 'That is....'

'A heathen point of view. Oh, certainly. But I make no claim to so much virtue."

'You'd take me, sir, on those terms?' Susan mu
tt
ered.

‘I
think I'd take you with a wooden leg,' Hilton said.

The salt water burned into Edward's chest; but not half so much as the sudden salt which burned his eyes.

'So, what is it to be?" Hilton asked.
‘I
ask for you to live again, Susan. If you need Edward for that,
then
I am content. I ask you to have the courage to live with me, with us, Edward. One woman, two men. What I suggest is no more
than
sensible, in a limited community such as ours.'

'My father....'

'Will suspect nothing, Ned, for it would never occur to him that so monstrous an arrangement could exist. In any event, he will not be here over the next year. As for our labourers, neither will they suspect anything, and if they should, it is not
in their nature to criticize oth
ers, so long as
they
are not criticized themselves.'

Susan turned to face Edward. 'And are you still afraid of your father, Edward?' Her voice was low, and still the colour alternated in her cheeks.

'You .. . you'd agree to such an arrangement?"

She smiled, and the sunlit morning seemed to overflow with light, and life, and love. 'Am I not entirely the gainer? I have been dead for too long. I have hated for too long. I have wished for love, for too long. I ho
nour and respect Mr Hil
ton. I would love him, had I the nature. But that I have not. In many ways I despise ye, Edward, and yet ye make me pant
within myself, the very thought
of ye. So in possessing both of ye at the same time, I fulfil myself as a woman. I am a very eastern potentate, enjoying a role no woman can ever have done more than dream of in the past.' She crossed her arms, lifted her nightdress above her head, and threw it on the sand. 'Catch me if ye can.' She ran down the beach to the water.

'Alive, by God,' Hilton said. 'Alive.' He threw his sword and breeches on top of the nightdress. 'You'll stay on Windward, Ned. If you do not, you are at once a fool and my enemy.' He ran behind his wife.

Edward looked down at the dried blood on his chest, and scratched Iris head. Then he laid his sword on top of Hilton's.

A fortnight later Jefferson's ship dropped anchor off the windward beach, to ferry ashore one of its brass cannon. It took most of the crew as well as all of Hilton's Irishmen, and even Tony and Edward, to unload the huge gun and drag it across the sinking sand to the rocks, and then it took another day's labour to hoist it up the twenty-foot face and embed it in the outward-looking wall of the house, where it nestled behind the wo
oden logs. It was ti
me, because the roof was ready to be erected, so h
andsomely had O'Reilly worked hi
s men. By then the ship had raised anchor, and was bearing north, with Tom Warner and his daughter on board. But Tom had not come ashore to say a last goodbye to his son. Nor had Sarah. Edward's exile from his family no less than from Sandy Point was complete.