HF - 01 - Caribee (49 page)

'Are they peaceable?" he aske
d Yarico. 'An-tigua people, pouf
," she said. 'You come.'

Sh
e walked towards them, confidentl
y enough, and he followed, with an equal show of bravado. She halted when some yards short of the group, who watched her approach while mu
tt
ering amongst
them
selves and fingering their weapons. Yarico now stepped in front of Edward, spread her arms wide, and began to speak, loudly, and
with fierce declamations, ever
y few words turning round to point at Edward, and the ship which still lay at anchor, punctuating her sentences
with
the one angry pronouncement, 'War-nah . . . War-nah ... War-nah... .'

The Caribs watched and listened, and then one of them replied, briefly, and the whole group turned and made their way back along the beach.

'They not trouble us,' Yarico said. 'Not War-nah, who is Caribee.'

'But well post guards, none the less.'

She shrugged. And then smiled, and placed a finger on his chest. 'War-nah, Caribee, much feared. Much man.' How she smiled, and how she knew, how much he wanted. And indeed, why else had she come?
‘I
find water,' she said. 'You come, Ed-ward? I show?' She put her head on one side.

He looked down the beach, to where his colonists still stared at
him
, and beyond, to where Aline was just returning from the bushes. 'Get back to work,' he shouted. 'The
Indian
s will not trouble us. The princess has located a spring, and would show it to me. We shall not be long.' He glanced down at her. 'Aye, sweetheart. You show me.'

The moon dipped low over the entrance to English Harbour, cu
tt
ing its brilliant silver road across the calm sea, beginnin
g to i
lluminate even St Ki
tt
s in its path
as it dropped towards its bed. Another dawn, soon approaching. Dawn was the most fateful time of a man's life. His life, certainly, but Edward believed it applied to all men. The dawn of a new day, of another day, of, eventually, the last day. Except for those who died in their sleep. But he did not suppose that would be his fate.

How would he the? Cut down by some Spaniard? Or by some rebellious colonist? Or indeed, as Father would have it, some escaping slave? Any one of those fates would be deserved. Even the thrust of a woman's knife between the ribs, a wife's knife, perhaps, urged on by jealousy and hatred. Not undeserved.

And the other? To he in a vast bed surrounded by wife and children, and grandchildren and great grandchildren, and watch them weep, knowing that they all loved you too well? Now there was a dream.

But dawn was the time when men stirred, and planned deeds, whether great or small, magnificent or murderous. Dawn excited him even as it frightened him.

But he was anticipating. It wanted yet four hours to dawn, and as the moon was declining fast the u
tt
er darkness welled up out of the forest and the sea to envelope the island.

Footsteps crunched on the sand as Robert Ganner approached. 'By God, 'tis dark, Mr Warner.'

'So you'll keep a sharp lookout. No sleeping, Mr Ganner. I'd treat that as a military offence.'

Til not sleep, sir.' Ganner sat down, his back against a tree, his musket across his knees.
‘I
wonder any of us do that. Would you not estima
te that th
ose people we saw today constituted the entire Carib nation on this island?"

'Possibly,' Edward said.
‘I
had heard they were not numerous.'

Then, sir, would it not be a sound idea . . . well, sir, as at this moment we have the support of Mr Wille
tt
and his sailors, and his cannon, whereas from tomorrow we shall be left to our own devices....'

'And seeing that we Warners have already practised such a manoeuvre, with success,' Edward said.

'Why, since you put it that bluntly, sir, yes. Surely there can be li
tt
le prospect of two peoples as diverse as are we and them ever living together in peace and harmony. Which means that we must continually look to ourselves.'

‘I
think you are wrong, Mr Gamier.' Edward stood up.
‘I
think there is every prospect of the Caribs and the English living together, in peace and in harmony. I think we proved that, in St Ki
tt
s. Our action there was hasty, and undertaken through a combination of fear and ambition. My ambition can be contained by what we already have, and I am not afraid of any Carib. And I'll not have my people fearing them, either. Or hating them. You'll remember that, Mr Ganner. They but require treating as human beings to be our friends.'

He walked down the sand, towards his tent. Not afraid of any Carib. What bold words. Was it not the very fear he felt for Wapisiane which made him want to be friends with these people? But Wapisiane was surely dead, by now. Nothing had been seen or heard of him since that raid on Hilton's plantation, and that was close on a year ago. And he had no certain knowledge that Wapisiane had been a party to that, even. It was merely his conscience dictating his feelings.

He parted the tent flap, entered the even more u
tt
er darkness of the interior, inhaled the perfume. Her wedding present, from Anne
Warner
. At her own request. So now they would smell alike, and in the darkness it would be impossible to tell them apart. He lay down, rolled on his back, and watched the faint white loom of the tent above his head. He was tired, but not sleepy. Was he apprehensive of a Carib raid? Yarico had said no, and Yarico knew her people. Nor, in this case, was there any reason for her to he. If the Warners fell, then she must fall as well.

'Do you love her, Edward?" The voice was soft, whispering through the darkness.

‘I
did not mean to awaken you.'

‘I
have not slept. And I would have you answer my question.'

‘I
would know why you ask it'

‘I
ask it because, if you do not love her, then surely you must hate me. No one doubts why you took her into the forest this afternoon. If there are any doubts about you, it is that Tom is not your brother, but your son. Indeed, I wonder if that might not be your reason for leaving St Ki
tt
s so precipitately.'

'And you spend your leisure listening to such rumours?"

'Should I not, sir, as that is all the conversation I am granted, or indeed am likely to be granted, so far as I can see? So I ask you again, do you hate me? Have you married me merely to be revenged upon Monsieur Belain? And my father? If you have, why do you not beat me and torture me into the bargain?
’

He sighed. 'Sometimes I hate you, Aline. Sometimes, I hate eve
ry living soul on earth. Sometim
es I hate Yarico. I loved her once. She was the first woman I ever loved, and she taught me how to love. And I believe she loves me still. But her love is a terrible thing, and she can be a terrible creature. So there you have it. I also fear her. And yet I know that I can trust her, in every way. She is there, and I am here, and she understands me as no other human being can do. I am a savage. Your father was right about that, and when my people call me Caribee
they
speak no more than the truth. I came to these islands while I was still young enough to be formed, and these islands took me and formed me. I lived with the
Indian
s for a while, as you know, and I became a
tt
ached to their way of life, brutal and heathen as it is. There is no hypocrisy amongst the
Indian
s, no false values, no obscure treasons and no absurd notions of honour. A man has but to live his life, as a man, and a woman
has but to be, a woman. Nor, in
deed, are the women the cha
tt
els that they are hi our society. They fight shoulder to shoulder with their men, when the occasion arises, and they live then own lives, mating with whom
they
choose when they choose and are able. No doubt you will say, that is a society of animals.'

'And that leads you to hate me?
’

That leads me to confusion, within myself, Aline. When I am in the company of Europeans. And now I am forced to such company forever more, and must behave as them, and practice their laws and their religion and their morals. And know that they look at me, and wonder, what does he really feel, what does he really wish to do.'

'So, on occasion, you seek the company of the one person who has no questions to ask of you,' Aline said.

He rose on his elbow. 'You can understand that?
’

‘I
would share that, Edward. I too, will have no more questions to ask of you, if you will but treat me as your wife.'

Surrender. What he had wanted and worked for. Without knowing what he would do with his victim when victory was achieved. For now he felt only humility. 'Then I am indeed fortunate,' he said.

'And I?" she whispered. 'Cannot I be granted, fortune?'

He crawled across the tent to he beside her, and her arms went round his neck. She was naked beneath the blanket, and warm, and moist, and eager. How eager. He had known nothing like
this
, from Yarico, carelessly enjoying herself, to Susan, all tensed anxiety. But here, suddenly was love without apprehension or regret, conscience or ambition. And here were the largest breasts, the hardest nipples, the tightest
belly and the most welcoming thi
ghs he had ever known, the whole enveloped in the sweetest smell and the most delicious taste he had ever known. And here, above all, was time, not merely the four hours to dawn, but the certain knowledge that here was an eternity, forty, fifty years of possession. As she also was certain.

And yet it was, only four hours to dawn. Four hours in which he felt her shudder beneath him more than a score of times in which he himself achieved orgasm on five occasions; in which
their
sweat mingled to soak the bla
nket and the ground, and their li
ps and tongues grew sore with the passion of their caresses. Four hours which ended in a tumult, which still left them uncaring or unmoving until the tent flap was torn aside.

'Mr Warner. Mr Warner? By God. My apologies, sir. I did not know.'

Edward sat up and reached for his breeches, blinking at Ganner in the sudden daylight 'What ails you, man? Are the
Indian
s upon us?"

'No, sir. No, sir. But....' he gazed in stupefaction at Aline, only now reaching for the blanket to cover herself.

Then get outside.' Edward followed him. The entire colony was awake, standing before their tents and staring at the entrance to English Harbour. Edward stared with them, at the canoes, more than a dozen of them, oars flashing in the morning sun as they hurried towards the open sea.

They are leaving,' Aline whispered. She stood in the entrance to the tent, shrouded in her blanket, her wet hair plastered to her shoulders and neck, her face bruised and puffy.

'By God,' Edward said. 'But why?
’

Yarico stood by herself, li
tt
le Tom clutching her hand. 'War-nah come, Carib go,' she said. 'Carib fear War-nah.' She turned her gaze on Aline, and smiled. 'Now, War-nah truly rule this land.'

This land. Shakespeare had described it, without knowing of its existence. This blessed isle. Not quite so fertile as St Ki
tt
s, perhaps, but for that reason easier to clear and to cultivate. And with more arable land, as it lacked the
backbone of mountain winch domin
ated the sister isle. As yet the harbour was empty, save for the sloop they had built to communicate with the senior colony, but this was his decision. He did not encourage casual visitors from St Ki
tt
s, or indeed visitors at all. St Ki
tt
s was the depot, from which they obtained their more essential supplies, and
through
which they shipped their tobacco. And from whence, also, they obtained their
colonists. For the Antigua settl
ement had grown, and would continue to do so. In the three years an additional forty famil
ies had joined the original settl
ers around English Harbour, so that he had p
lanted a sub-colony on the north
ern coast, as a precaution; they had found another possible harbour over there, and named it St John's.

As a precaution against what, he sometimes wondered? Since the
day the Caribs had emigrated, fl
eeing from the very name he represented, they had seen no intruders. At least, none who would invade Antigua.

Three years, in which he had not left the island. Aline chided him for this. She could, now, for was she not his wife, and the mother of his children? Joachim was two, a sturdy fellow; Joan was not two months old—this evening he waited for her to finish with her mother's breasts and be sent to bed. But never were breasts more certainly made for motherhood, for feeding, than Aline's. Unless they had also been specifically shaped for caressing, for filling a man's hand with endless delight.

So then, they were lovers. Of a sort
,
Her love for him could not be gainsaid. Even he did not doubt that, any more. In some strange and entirely feminine way, she had fallen in love with him during the hours and days after he had raped her, when she had understood the endless complexities of his personality, and understood, too, the good things about him, the virtues which largely dominated the rages and the lusts. Now, if anything, she understood him too well, was too passive regarding his relationship with Yarico, and thus postponed her own dominance in his mind and in his life. Or perhaps, being considerably more intelligent than he was, she understood that his mind was still not yet ready for her alone, and was prepared to wait. True happiness had still not found her; she seldom loosed that magnificent laugh. Never might be closer the mark. Now she smiled, and after twenty years of life and two of motherhood, she bubbled less.

Because to love Aline would mean the abandonment of all else. This he understood. Hence her
gentle
chiding. The colony had prospered and would continue to do so. There could be no shame in governing Antigua, and he could meet his father on terms of equality. Yet he kept aloof from St Ki
tt
s. Those who came from Sandy Point, and those who travelled from English Harbour to s
upervise the shipment of the to
bacco, brought tales of prosperity, of a col
ony numbering more than three th
ousand souls, of endless fields of gracefully waving sugar cane, of large ships and larger houses, of gangs of Negro slaves slowly making their way to work in the morning, and back to their huts in the evenings. Was it this kept him away? Was he then a paragon who would suffer no man to be his slave? There were floggings enough in Antigua. His colonists had found in him a man who could be every bit as hard as his father, when driven to it. As Aline had warned him, his people felt li
tt
le love for him, however much they feared him and welcomed the good life his strict management ensured them.

Or was it, despite that progress, jealousy? Father had certainly been right in his prophecy,
that
sugar was the crop of the future. But to grow sugar on Antigua would mean asking Father for slaves, asking
Father
for credit. It would mean asking.

Or was it the presence of the French? For they too had returned. Their ships often filled the narrow passage, but always with peaceful intent. His colonists said that Basseterre was taking
all the shape that Pierre Belain
had intended for it, but not under Belain's direction, and with even more beauty than he had hoped. The new Governor-General was the Sieur de Poincy, a man of distinction whose greatest love was botany. He and Tom Warner were close friends, it was said, and where Tegramond's nation had died there now stood a garden of flaming blooms, shared by both the conquering nations. But no Belain, and no Galante. The Sieur d'Esnambuc was dead, but Alin
e's father knew, by now, that hi
s daughter was alive and married to Edward Warner. There had been an exchange of le
tt
ers which had left her unnatu
rally solemn for a few days, and into the contents of which he had preferred not to pry. But without their presence, was there any reason why she could not visit her countrymen across the passage? He had forbidden it.

Why? Or did everyone know the real reason, and prefer not to whisper it, at least in his presence? For wherever Tom Warner went, or sat, or gave judgement, or granted rights and privileges, there too went his wife, and by her side, always, her remaining stepson. They were the heirs to that land and
that
grant. And
they
meant to make sure of it. Thus he must make
sure of his own. Already his th
oughts roamed to the possibility of a return to England, in search of a grant for himself and his heirs. And no doubt more. Sir Edward Warner. It was not a ma
tt
er of friendship with the King or his ministers, according to Father. It was a ma
tt
er of posses
sing forty pound a year, and hi
s tobacco was worth that.

And yet, Father was and always had been a friend of the court, and so he could joke about it and treat it with contemp
t. Edward Warner would appear in
London as a savage, no ma
tt
er how fine his cloth
es. He lacked manners and he lacked polish. His very skin, burned the colour of the mahogany wood by the unending sun, would set him apart from the courtiers at St James, even more firmly than it set him apart from his own colonists.

And to travel to England would mean leaving Antigua to what? And to whom? Robert Ganner, a reincarnation of William Jarring, if ever there was one? Father's appointee? That was impossible. He watched
little
Tom walking up the beach, dangling three fish from
the line he carried round his wa
ist. Tom was seven, and until Joachim could grow to responsibility, he was the natural aide and successor to his half-brother. But even Tom meant a wait of ten years. He almost smiled. He could leave the colony to a joint governorship of Aline and Yarico. Pe
tt
icoat government. Now he was being fanciful. And yet, he could not really do be
tt
er, could he possibly suppose
that
Father would accept such an arrangement.

So what did it come down to but fear? Fear that with his back turned—no, his eyes shut for a few seconds—his every possession would be whipped away. Perhaps he was deluding himself, and far from Aline being unwilling to dominate his life until he was ready for it, she was unwilling to involve herself
that
closely with him until he had conquered his fear. Susan's words. But Susan was as perceptive as any of them. She had loved him too. She had given him several chances to prove himself her kind of man, and in the end she had given him up and gone with a man who truly knew no fear. To be hanged? Not Tony Hilton. They had heard how he had se
tt
led on a rock called Tortuga, just north of the Spanish mother colony of Hispaniola, and there gathered around him a band of the remarkable boucaniers, the shipwrecked seamen and escaped prisoners who for so long had roamed the jungles of the huge island and slaughtered the Spanish ca
tt
le, which occupation had given them their name. Now they called themselves the Brethren of the Coast, and in their fast li
tt
le sloops were said, if it could be believed, to prey upon even large Spanish merchantmen, were the Don
s so unfortunate as to find th
emselves becalmed as they left the windswept Atlantic for the uncertain breezes which eddied down from the mountain peaks of the islands. No wonder the Viceroy had no longer the time or the men to waste on the peaceful English and French and Dutch tobacco and cane farmers, with this band of vipers si
tt
ing on his doorstep. And dominating even the vip
ers was the tall, thin man with
the gash of a mouth, accompanied always by the red-haired beauty who shared his bed, and now, no doubt, by a son as well. Would the son have fair hair or black? Or would he be safely concealed beneath his mother's red?

'What have you there, Tom?' he called.

The boy stopped, half
turning his head to glance at hi
s stepbrother.
‘I
got grouper.'

'Now
that
I had supposed,' Edward said. 'That big fellow looks like no flatfish to me. But you'd not catch a grouper in your shallow nets.'

‘I
dive.' Tom made the mot
ion with his hand.

'You're more
than
half
Indian
, that's to be sure. But your mother would not be pleased about
that
. You're still a trifle young to go diving after big fish.'

'Mother there,' li
tt
le Tom said, and hurried up the beach.

'Now, what do you suppose is ailing him,' Edward remarked, rubbing his son's mat of fresh black hair. 'How goes it, sweetheart?'

'She is hungry,' Aline pointed out. 'She is always hungry. She will be a large woman, like her father.'

'Which will not be so good, eh?' He watched Yarico coming up the beach. Unlike her son, she hurried. 'You'll have a stick for li
tt
le Tom?'

She checked outside the porch, panting, glancing at him. 'He come?'

'And went straight by. He'd been diving.'

‘I
too.'

'Now, there's a relief. I had supposed the li
tt
le devil had gone in by himself.' He frowned. 'You've not hurt yourself?' 'Carib come.'

'What?" He was on his feet in the same instant She held up four fingers. 'Not many.' They were making for here?
’
'For Windward.'

'Aye.' Wapisiane, back to his tricks. He had nearly said the name itself. And he had supposed him dead. 'How far off?" 'Far,' she said. 'Long time for land.'

There's a blessing. We'll have a reception commi
tt
ee waiting for them this time. But the boy... did he not see them?' She nodded.