HF - 01 - Caribee (57 page)

Edward licked his lips. 'Wapisiane sent you to us, Yarico. You betrayed him once. Did he not expect you to betray him again?'

Yarico's eyes gloomed at
him
in the darkness. 'He for care? War-nah come, War-nah die. War-nah leave, Wapisiane big man. But he know War-nah come for A-line.'

'And she is there?' he shouted. 'By Christ, tell me she is there.'

Yarico nodded.

'And well?
"

'A-line tie to stake,' Yarico said. 'And then she laugh.' 'She laughed? By God.'

There is a woman,' Hilton said. 'Now is my last doubt dispelled.'

'And what then?' Edward asked.

Yarico gazed at him. 'War-nah woman is bitch-dog,' she said.

'Oh, Christ,' he mu
tt
ered.

'We shall have their blood,' Solange vowed.

'Or they will have ours,' Hilton said.
‘It
seems that this Wapisiane has
circumstances very much under hi
s own control.'

'Well, boy?' Tom asked.

Edward pulled his beard. 'How many men does Wapisiane command?'

She shrugged. 'Many people.' 'More
than
we have here?'

Yarico looked over such of the column as she could see. 'Perhaps.'

'But not many, I swear,' Edward said. 'Or he'd not be so anxious to get at us piecemeal. Well, then, he is dictating events, at this moment. We must a
tt
empt to weaken his control, and we can only accomplish that by surprise. He is expecting you to return some time this night with perhaps a dozen of us. Am I right, Yarico?'

She nodded.

'And no doubt he is watching this secret path of yours?
’
'Men watch,' she agreed.

'And there is no
other
way to the village, save across the valley below us?
’

She shook her head.

'And that too is overlooked?
’

'Nobody cross valley in
dark,' she asserted.

'Because of the boiling water? But surely there is a way.'

'Boiling stream cross valley,' she said. 'But not possible in dark. Then spirits of dead rise up in steam. Nobody go in valley at night.'

There was no doubt that she believed what she was saying, and thus that the other
Indian
s also believed it. Edward pulled his beard some more. 'Where exactly is the village, Yarico? On the far side of the valley?
’

'Over there, yes. Village beyond Boiling Lake, where air is clean.'

"You have a plan in mind?' Hilton asked.

‘I
need first of all twelve volunteers to accompany Yarico,' Edward said. 'Led by you, Tony. Tins is a most dangerous assignment I give you, because if the rest of my plan does not succeed you will be cut off.'

'While you lead the rest of us across the valley?' Tom demanded. 'You have heard that is impossible.'

‘I
fear no
Indian
ghosts, Father.'

'Neither do I. But seventy men, will they not hear us?"

'Probably, should the entire force a
tt
empt to cross. I will need another ten volunteers who will brave the valley in the dark, with the certainty of an assault on the
Indian
village beyond.'

'You'd pit twenty-two men against close on a hundred savages?'

‘F
or a start. Our purpose is to make Wapisiane commit his people, and prevent
their
withdrawal into the forest until we have regained Aline. The advantage of surprise in this will be ours. How long will it take to traverse
this
path of yours, Yarico?'

'Not long,' she said.

'But it must take a long time, the first time. Someone must fall, and seem to hurt himself. Tony, I leave this in your care.'

'Aye. We shall take a long time.'

'And
then
,' Edward said. 'The moment there can be no doubt as to Tony's party finding the village, Yarico, I wish you to slip away into the forest and return here with all speed, and bring on the remainder of the force, with the dogs. By then we shall ha
ve forced Wapisiane to give battl
e, and there will be no disappearing into the forest'

Yarico nodded, thoughtfully.

'You will be in command of the main force, Father,' Edward said. 'And once Yarico returns you will make all haste to the scene of action, allowing the dogs as much noise as they wish; the sound of your approach cannot help but be discouraging to the savages. But all depends upon my leading my party across the valley before Tony is engaged. We shall start imme
di
at
ely.'

'On the contrary,' Solange observed. 'All depends on the Princess Yarico here.'

The men gazed at him.

'She was carried off by this Wapisiane,' Solange said. 'To suffer his revenge, you say, because she betrayed his people. Yet she lives, and does not appear unduly harmed. Now she has come at his bidding, to command us to divide our forces, and to make sure we understand that there is no other course open to us. What proof have you that she has not made her peace with her people? What proof have you
that
she did not invite them into English Harbour in the first instance, in the full knowledge that Captain
Warner
and most of his men were on the far side of the island? And now, it seems to me, our entire operation depends upon her fidelity. There will be twelve of us in the
Indian
village, and another ten approaching from the valley, if they are able, and our fate will be certain should Sir Thomas not be able to bring up the main body.' He paused, glancing from one to the other.

'You must reply, Yarico,' Edward said. 'Why is Wapisiane trusting you?"

'Wapisiane, pouf,' she said. 'He not know who cause Blood River. He think War-nah take me like other women. And now, he know you will come, Ed-ward. Because A-line there. You come with few men, he say, or she die, and
Indian
go in forest.'

'And he thinks it is not possible to cross the valley of the dead at night?'

'Not possible,' she said. 'Much spirit there. You go, you die.'

'Aye. Well, Brian, will your boys follow me?
’

Through that graveyard.' Connor s
hrugged. "We've followed you in
to worse places.'

‘I
need men I can rely on. What of you, Monsieur Solange.'

The Frenchman hesitated, looking from Yarico to the white men, and then shrugged himself.
‘I
came here to rescue your wife, Captain Warner. It makes li
tt
le sense to
suffer a faint heart now. Lafit
te?'

‘I
will come.'

'And three more,' Edward said.
‘I
will find them. We will carry swords
and pistols, noth
ing more. Tony, you had best recruit from amongst your own men, as they know you. But be sure you carry only such powder as has dried.'

‘I
like it not,' Tom mu
tt
ered. 'The one thing we decided was that to divide our forces would be fatal.'

There is no oth
er way to force Wapisiane to fight, Father,
’
Edward insisted. 'And I believe our surprise will carry the day.'

There is still the ma
tt
er of timing,' Hilton said.

'On arrival at the village, you will fire your pistol, Tony. Be sure that we shall hear the sound. As will my father.'

'Valley of dead not possible in dark,' Yarico said. 'You go, you die, Ed-ward.' Her face was solemn.

Edward smiled at her. "Then I'll say farewell, sweetheart
,
Be sure you play your part'

Carefully he crawled out from the trees, and on to the slope leading down to the valley. By now his nostrils were almost accustomed to the endless stench, but it seemed that the heat grew ever more intense as he left the tree screen. And the darkness also.
His feet slipped and he went sli
ding down the rough rock face, cu
tt
ing his hands. But it was not so far as he had supposed, and a moment later he found himself at the foot of the slope, breathless and bleeding, but not seriously hurt

'Are ye all right, Captain?' Connor whispered.

'Aye. But you'd best watch your step, Brian. It is a ma
tt
er of sli
ding.'

'By Christ,' Connor said. 'By Christ....' a moment later he landed beside Edward. But at least he had shown the others the way, and soon
they
were all gathered at the foot of the slope.

'Now,' Edward said. There must be no more sound.'

'As if they'd hear us,' Solange pointed out. And it was true that they had t
o speak quite loudly to make th
emselves heard over the constant hissing
that
arose from around them.

'We must first locate the stream,' Edward said. 'As it is to be our guide. We'll spread out, but keep within arms' reach of each other.'

He went forward in the middle, Connor on one side of him and Solange on the other. They crept across what might have been a stony plain, except for the clouds of sulphurous gas which kept slashing at their nostrils.

'By Christ,' Connor said. ' 'Tis easy to believe this place belongs to the dead, Ted. Should we lose ourselves....'

'We'll not,' Edward assured him. 'What's that?
’

There was a sound, half a cry and half a moan, from the right. They hurried in the direction, and found one of the Irishmen si
tt
ing down next to the rushing stream.

'By God,' he said.
‘I
stepped in it
,
It came right through me boot. By God, I can feel the flesh boiling.'

'You'll walk,' Edward commanded. 'And quickly. We can afford no stragglers. Now come, lads. Her
e's our guide. But there will b
e other pools, so tread carefully.'

He made his way along the side of the seedling rivulet; the heat rose from it as if he were walking on the edge of a cauldron of boiling water, as indeed he was. The very ground was hot; he could feel it burning through his boots. His breastplate seemed to contain a lake of sweating flesh which was his chest and shirt, and perspiration ran out from beneath his helmet in a constant stream. His very hands were sodden, and he wondered if he would be able to grasp his sword. And soon enough the hissing commenced to his left as well, and he found himself on the edge of a bubbling pool rising out of the ground.

'Be careful,' he told his men, and ma
de his way along the narrow path
way between the two springs.

'Christ, I have slipped,' Lafi
tt
e howled. 'Oh, mon Dieu, how it burns. I can go no further. I am in agony. I....'

'On your feet, monsieur,' Edward snapped. 'You'll assist him, if you please, Monsieur Solange. Rise or die, monsieur.'

Lafi
tt
e struggled to his feet, groaning and mu
tt
ering curses.

‘It
cannot be much farther,' Edward said. 'Listen.'

From ahead of them even the hissing of the water was lost in a steady rumbling gurgle.

'By God, it will be exploding next,' Connor mu
tt
ered, and crossed himself.

"That is the Boiling Lake,' Edward said. 'A
s Yarico told us, it does nothin
g but boil and bubble, day in and day out. Yet it marks the inward extremity of
this
valley. We are close to the village.'

He led them forward, and after only a few more yards the ground started to slope upwards. Now the lake was close to their left hand; the noise was tremendous, and the heat seemed to have redoubled, if that were possible. But a sudden puff of breeze, coming down from the windward slopes ahead of them, actually cleared the sulphur for a moment and allowed them to inhale clean air.

'We have arrived,' he whispered. 'Quiet now.'

He climbed the slope, the lake ever growling on his left, and found himself crawling past a green bush, while the next puff of wind came hard behind the first 'Here,' he said. 'Here we wait'

They crouched beside him, gasping, taking off their helmets to wipe their heads, drawing their swords and laying them on the ground.

'How long, do you think?' Solange asked.

'We made good time. If Yarico did indeed delay, then we shall at the least have time to catch our breaths.'

'And if she did not delay it is because she intends to betray us, so a breath here or there will make no difference. Eh, Captain?'

'As you say, monsieur. But she saved my life on more than one occasion in the past. It would not be in her now to wish to take it.'

'Supposing there can be such a thing as constancy in a savage. Hark.'

The soun
d of a pistol shot drifted faintl
y through the air.

'Our signal, by God. Prime your pistols, lads. Quickly now. Remember that at this moment Tony Hilton is fighting for his life.'

He scrambled to his feet. Christ, how his heart pounded. Not at the prospect of the desperate encounter which lay only seconds in front of him. He had no fears of that. He intended to conquer
this
day or die, and he worried li
tt
le winch outcome came about. But the conquering, or the dying, involved seeing Aline again. Seeing what Wapisiane had made of her. And through her, what he would have made of her husband.

"We'll make as much noise as possible,' he said. He pointed his sword up the hill, and shouted, 'A
tt
ack, my friends. A
tt
ack.'

He led them forward at a jog trot, up the slope and into the clear night air. Now they heard the rumble of the volley fired by Hilton's men, away to the left, a ripple of deadly sound. But it would be the only one; Wapisiane would hardly give them time to reload. And now too they saw the glow of the fire in the centre of the Carib village, burning low but none the less ready to be rekindled with daylight, and by its faint fight they could also make out the first of the huts.

Three
Indian
s emerged from the bushes near the village, where they had clearly been placed as a guard, but from where they had sadly neglected their duties. Now they stood in front of the white men, brandishing
their
wooden spears and shouting, u
ncertain whether they were facin
g men
or spirits. Edward swung the fir
st thrust of the spear to one side
with
his sword, and bringing the blade back felt it crunch on bone even as the man fell at his feet. Then he was through and running into the village
with
out stopping to look at what had happened to the others.

He could hear the shouting of the savages from in front of him now, and the cheers of Tony's men. But in seconds
they
would have to be overwhelmed. 'To me,' he shouted at the full extent of his lungs. 'To me. Warner.'

His men joined him by the fire. The huts appeared to be empty. The
Indian
s had prudentl
y sent their non-combatants into the forest until the outcome of the ba
tt
le could be decided.

'Over there,' Connor gasped, pointing to the trees where a mass of people could be seen in the darkness, and the cries of the English party could be distinguished.

'We'll burn them back.' Edward seized a
glowing brand from the fire, th
rust it into the palm roof of the nearest hut, and watched the smoke rise, even if it was slow to catch. He ran for the next, the ember now flaming hi his hand, and saw Aline.

Beyond the glowing fire, only now visible as his eyes became accustomed to the light, there were two stakes, driven into the ground, dreadfully reminiscent of the Carib village in St Ki
tt
s on that unforge
tt
able day so many years ago. And to the nearest there still clung a ta
tt
ered skeleton, such flesh as remained hanging from bone and skull already ro
tt
ed into nothing by the heat. Beyond, Aline crouched at the foot of hers. She was naked, and secured by the wrists to the foot of the stake, so
that
no ma
tt
er what happened she could not stand upright, nor indeed do more than crawl. In the gloom it was i
mpossible to see what, if anyth
ing, had happened to her; she was a white blur with a mass of mahogany brown hair, but she was still capable of movement, and indeed had risen to her knees, shoulder pressed against the stake, as she tried to discover what was happening.

'By God.' Edward dropped to his knees beside her. 'Aline? By Chr
ist, Aline?' He held his breath
against the stench which rose from her, so indicative of all that she had suffered during the past three days.

She gazed at him, her brows kni
tt
ed. Her face was bruised and swollen, and her lips were puffy. Her eyes were dull, but there was recognition and excitement coming into them. 'Edward?' she whispered. 'Oh, God, Edward.'

They are for us, Ted,' Connor shouted.

'But a moment,' Edward promised, and rose to his feet. His men had, without bidding, ranged themselves in front of the stake, and now the
Indian
s, discovering
them
selves assailed in the rear, were coming back through the trees.

'Present,' Edward yelled. Take your aim, now. Fire.'

The pistols rippled flame and explosion and black smoke, and several of the
Indian
s fell. The rest checked for an instant.

'Stay close,' Edward shouted. Tony. Tony Hilton. Now, man, now is the time.'

There came a whoop from the forest beyond the massed
Indian
s, and one or two looked over
their
shoulder. The others advanced, checking at a distance of some twenty feet to hurl spears, and one of the Irish fell with a growl of pain.

'Well charge those men,' Solange shouted.

'No,' Edward bellowed. 'Stay close. They seek my wife.'

The
Indian
s came on, a shrieking mass in the semi-darkness. Spears thrust and clanged on breastplate and helmet. Swords swung and men cursed and screamed, and women too, for Edward realized with a thrill of horror that the Caribs were fighting as a nation. Blood flew, and spla
tt
ered across his face. He thrust and cut, careless of any individual in front of him, aware only that Brian Connor stood on his left hand and the Frenchman Lafi
tt
e on his right, aware only that he must kill and kill and kill until he dropped himself from exhaustion, and aware too that this was all he wished to do, to die, while killing, to take as many of the savages to hell with him as he could.

But Hilton had rallied his men and these too were close, charging the rear of the
Indian
s, forcing them to fight at their backs
as well, turning the conflict in
to an indistinguishable melee. For all their armour and their superior weapons the white men were outnumbered, and the issue might well have gone against them, had t
here not now come thr
ough the night, echoing above even the screams and the curses, the unmistakable baying of the hounds. Here was the decisive factor. Where there had been a mass of seething naked brown bodies and flailing wooden spears, on a sudden there were only exhausted armour-clad white men,
restin
g on
their
swords, sinking to their knees, tearing their helmets from their heads and throwing them away, begging for water and help for
their
wounds.

Edward ignored them as he knelt beside Aline. Trampled on in the fighting, she had shrunk closer to her stake, her cheek pressed against the bloodstained wood. He tore at the ties of his breastplate, released it, and pulled his shirt free. His knife slashed
through
the th
ongs holding her wrists, and then he wrapped his shirt around her sun- and dirt- and whip-roughened shoulders, and pulled her upwards. She came easily enough, and remained standing against him, h
ardly breathing, her head restin
g on his chest.

Now he could properly draw breath, and look around him. The village was at last beginning to bum at his back, and send flames upwards to illuminate the night, accompanied by dense clouds of smoke and intermi
tt
ent showers of sparks. The dogs had reached them, casting around, baying, snuffling at the dead bodies, their cacophony the paean of victory. The dead were being dragged into rows, and six of the
m wore breastplates. Several oth
ers were wounded, but the price for
this
triumph had been cheap enough, he supposed; not less than a score of the
Indian
s lay dead.

'A famous victory,
Ted,' Brian Connor shouted. 'An
d is the lady all right?
’

'She will b
e. Now. . . .'

'But look here, Monsieur Warner.' Solange pointed with his sword, to where two of Hilton's men had an
Indian
on the ground. "We have a dozen of these, too sore wounded to run away. What do you suppose we should do with them? But this fellow speaks your name.'

Edward watched Wapisiane writhe on the ground in a combination of pain and self hatred, that he should have been so reduced. His leg was sha
tt
ered by a pistol ball; the bone protruded and his blood drained on to the ground. And now a sailor standing over him kicked him on the sha
tt
ered bone to
bring a moan of agony from his li
ps. Yet his eyes never wavered, and his gaze never left Edward's face. He expected no mercy, was perhaps not even concerned with the way he would be made to die, but only with his own manner and his own courage at the decisive moment.

There he lies,' Tony Hilton said.
‘I
had thought to have forgo
tt
en his face, these eyes. By God, but hell look good, dangling at the end of a rope. It must be hoisted slow.'

Aline turned in his arms, her face pressed against his naked chest. Edward chewed his hp. He had given this man life once before, and it
had turned out to be a dreadful
mistake. And now he had reas
on to be harsh. His mind and hi
s body at once called out for revenge. Only his heart suggested different. The Caribs had only defended their land, their islands, after their own fashion. The white men remained the intruders, the aggressors. Nor had
they
even proved themselves superior, save in the possession of their arms and armour, and
their
willingness to take advantage of an
Indian
superstition.