HF - 01 - Caribee (16 page)
'The girl saved my life,' Edward said.
Yarico stood, some distance away, watching them, as they watched her, for in the tumult of the night she had lost her cloth, and now he, too, realized for the first time that he was naked.
‘I
t
was a fierce wind,' he said, stupidly.
'Aye,' Berwicke said. 'Well, it ma
tt
ers naught now. There can be no law, no discipline, where there is no colony.' He turned away from the boy. 'We were not meant to hold this pleasant land. It belongs to the wind, and the sea. And the people of blood.'
How calm the sea. Edward paused to wipe his brow, to toss his head and sca
tt
er the sweat as did his Carib friends. And to gaze at the water. It stretched forever, a measureless blue carpet, undulating, but no more than gently. That it could have acted the angry fiend of a few weeks ago seemed incredible, looking at it now. Yet it had not been a dream. He had to do no more than walk along the beach, and look at the colony, at the empty weal which had been the tobacco plantation, at the sca
tt
ered huts, at the sand still piled in huge drifts, only slowly being whi
tt
led away by the breeze, at the men, as sca
tt
ered as their erstwhile belongs, lying on the sand, existing, in a tropical paradise which held within it the core of destruction.
He could never have supposed that once these men had been his friends. More, his mentors. He had begged them to work, to make some effort to restore the buildings and replant the crop, and they had t
hrown stones at hi
m. Berwicke, a man whose entire body, always overweight, had sagged into a coma, who stared at the field and mu
tt
ered to himself. Ashton, a sailing master come to grief upon an endless reef, gazing at the waters and remembering rather than dreaming. Tony Hilton, strangest of all. Hilton climbed the hill every day, at the least, and looked out to sea. He would do no more. 'Plantations,' he said in disgust. 'Months of back-breaking work. To be sca
tt
ered into dust whenever He feels the mood? Speak not to me of plantations.'
No longer men, but creatures. Edward had taken himself to where men still were men. Now he discovered why the In
dian
village had given
such an impression of flimsy im
permanence. There had been storms before, hurricanes, as the Caribs called them, and it made no sense to stand before such a wind. One took shelter, and allowed one's house to sca
tt
er, and when the wind was gone, one rebuilt one's house. It was only a ma
tt
er of a few hours' work.
He had endeavoured to ask Yarico and her father if such storms were common. They had said yes, and no, which he intrepreted to mean
that they were common enough in thi
s part of the world, but that they did not invariably destroy a particular island. But as to time, he could learn nothing. The Caribs thoug
ht in moons, and it was apparentl
y a great number of moons since the last hurricane had struck St Christopher. But as the Caribs regarded any number greater than five as enormous, he was very li
tt
le further ahead.
It did not ma
tt
er. He was happy here. He was one of the young men, an important phrase. Theirs was a meaninglessly busy life. They fished, and they swam, and they wrestled, and they practised the use of their weapons, the long spear which they hurled with deadly accuracy, and the bow, with a range hardly longer, for it was a small and poorly stringed instrument, but with which again they a
tt
ained g
reat accuracy. They slept togeth
er in a larger than usual hut, as they were the unmated ones, and
they
acknowledged as their leader the chief designate, Wapisiane.
This single fact had disturbed Edward, a
t first. But Wapisiane apparentl
y bore no grudge, or concealed it well. There was no morality in this culture, beyond the necessity to be brave. They reminded Edward of dogs. When a boy felt the necessity he sat on the sand and masturbated, or coupled with another boy. It seldom occurred to them to seek one of the girls, for pleasure. Rather was this a duty which would follow manhood, for the perpetuation of the tribe. That their new friend found it enjoyable to trail into the woods behind Yarico they found at once amusing and contemptible. But
they
also soon learned to respect him. At fourteen he was a full grown man, stronger than any of the
Indian
boys, and he had been taught the use of his fists by Tony during the voyage from England, an art which was totally incomprehensible to them. The first time he answered a challenge, and his assailant lowered his head and shoulders to throw bodi arms around his waist, he had struck down with all his force and stretched the boy unconscious on the sand. He had, indeed, been terrified that he might have killed him, but the other
Indian
s had been delighted, and soon enough his victim had scrambled to his feet, dazed, and quite disinclined to continue the fight.
This total personal liberty encompassed even the adults. It was
imposs
ible
to decide who belonged to whom, mother, father, child or wife. The small children were herded together, and were cared for by the older women. The younger women worked the fields, for they grew corn, and cleaned fish, and a
tt
ended to all household chores, which included rebuilding the houses. Even Yarico, the chief's daughter, slept with the girls and worked with them, and possessed only as much leisure as
they
did. But she saved her leisure for him.
It occurred to him that to intents and purposes he was married. But far more than that. He wore a breech clout and no tiling more, ate raw fish with is fingers, and indeed, caught them with his bare hands, for Wapisiane was a great fisherman and every morning before dawn he and Edward would scour the shallows off the village, and seldom return with empty baskets. He feared the return of this father, to interrupt this idyll which made so much nonsense of kings and their courts, of titles and towers, of the right to worship or the right not to worship, of the inevitability of growing old, of the certainty of death. There was no death amongst the Caribs, at least, not to the visible eye. Now he learned the secret of the far north of the island, and the reason for the absence of old people; it was the custom amongst the Caribs that the moment any man or woman fel
t old age or infirmity approach
ing, they walked away from the village and took themselves to the thick forest at the north, there to die of starvation in solitude. At fourteen this seemed an admirable philosophy. Their entire religion was in this simple mould. All things, the leaves on the trees and the grains of sand on the beaches, possessed life. The more powerful the object or creature, the greater the life. Thus the sea, the wind, the clouds, and above all the sun, were dominant creatures, as near as possible to the Christian concept of God, equalled only by the solid mass of the central mountain, similarly immense, similarly immortal. Prayer consisted of a simple appeal. That there could be a life after death had not occurred to the Caribs.
As for their other philosophy, that by eating the living flesh of an enemy a man could imbibe some of his strength and courage, the occasion had not yet recurred. What would he do should Yarico come to him with a dripping human steak in her hands or in her teeth? But this was a problem of the future, to be set alongside the return of Father, and other incalculable prospects. Life in the Carib encampment was lived from day to day; only the good or famous events from the past were remembered, and any possible sorrows or problems in the future were not considered at all.
Yet the future must come, and in March, five months after the storm, it arrived in the shape of a small vessel, flying the cross of St George, announced by a running Hilton, showing more activity than for months past.
They gathered on the water's edge, white men and Caribs, women, girls and boys, to watch the pinnace making for the shore. Tom
Warner
stood in the stern, clad in velvet and leather, new doublet and polished thigh boots, tall hat with feather, gleaming hilted rapier suspended from shining baldric, trimmed be
ard and a jewelled pin at his th
roat.
'What?' he cried, as he approached. 'There has been some disaster here, I'll warrant.'
'A storm, Tom,' Berwicke said. 'A storm such as you can never have imagined.' He peered into the boat. 'Mistress Warner, well thanks be to God, ma'am. But who is this strapping fellow?'
'Ph
ilip, you old fool' Tom said. Ten years old, by God. And what think you of this, eh? Her name is Sarah.'
The li
tt
le girl clung to the gunwale, and stared at the island and the
Indian
s with wide eyes. Like her brother, she closely resembled her father, short and sturdily built, blue eyed and dark haired.
Tom lifted his wife ashore. 'But when happened this storm? Tegramond, you old villain.' He clasped the smiling cacique to his breast. ' Tis good to see you again. And I bring news. The storm, Ralph, you were to tell me of the storm.'
'Some month
s gone,' Ashton said.
'Months, and the village is still sca
tt
ered? And no tobacco planted? Or have you changed your site?"
'We ar
e still at Sandy Point, Tom,' Hilton said.
‘I
n faith, it has not seemed worth our while to replant where it can be so easily destroyed.'
'
By God,' Tom said. 'Rebecca, I’ll
have you shake hands with the chief. Now remember, girl, I have told you all of him. He is not half so fierce as he seems, and he is my friend. Perhaps my best friend in all the world. Ralph, I'm that disappointed in you, old friend. How can a colony prosper, without setbacks? Setbacks, storms, illnesses, it is the surviving of these things
that
makes a man be
tt
er
than
these savages. Have we not suffered much
together
, and still survived, and prospered?"
'Colony,' Hilton said in disgust?
’
Tom rounded on him. 'Aye, colony, Tony. For that is what we are.' Fom his doublet he pulled a rolled parchment. 'Here is my warrant. Thomas Warner,
gentle
man, the King's Lieutenant of the Caribee Isles. I have much to tell you, lads. Much. Welcomed at court, I was. Mr Nort
h is a true man, and spread noth
ing but honest tales of our courage, and my lord of Warwick is again in favour. The grant indeed is in his name, but transmi
tt
ed
through
him to me and my heirs. But where is Edward?
’
'Edward?' Rebecca freed herself from the cacique's grasp, for he was staring at her with a bemused expression, taking in her padded skirt and her low-cut bodice, her combed hair and her pale skin. 'Where is Edward?"
He stepped through the crowd. Saving his hair, he looked no different to the boys around him.
'Edward?" Tom shouted. 'By Christ, boy, what has become of you?"
'He is all of a savage,' Berwicke said. We call him Caribee.
'Edward?" Rebecca whispered. 'Oh, Edward.'
Her arm
s were wide. Yet he was strange
ly
reluctant to step into them. There was too much difference here, between what he was and what he had been. It had been too long, since last he had been close to her, and in that time too much had happened. And she was still a young woman, and an a
tt
ractive one.
He went closer, felt her fingers on his skin, inhaled her scent. 'Mother. 'Tis good to see you.'
She kissed him, held him at arms' length. 'And is that all you can say? But truly, you are not the child who went away. Now I have two men.'
Two men that you'll be proud of,' Tom said, taking his son's hand. 'But I'll have no white
Indian
s in my colony. I've brought you some fine clothes, boy. We're rich. Did you not know that? Ralph Merrifield, you remember Ralph? He has bought our tobacco and advanced me a sum against our next crop. Why, my return is all the talk in London. You'll get yourself dressed, boy. I
have need of you, I can see th
at. There's work to be done.'
'And have you also come with a shipload of colonists, Father?'
Tom frowned. 'No,' he said.
I
doubt that England is yet the place it was in my youth. Now all they can speak of is the Don's habit of torturing to death intruders found in the Americas, and of the cannibalism of the Caribs. I raised six men in England. Hut they are fine fellows.'
'Six men?' Berwicke asked.
'Disappointing, Ralph, to be sure. So I sailed across the ocean to Virginia, to search for more.'
'And had you success?' Ashton asked.
'Not really. Six more. That is our force for the present.'
'Twelve men, to found a colony?" Edward asked.
There will be more, lad, you may rest assured on that score.'
'Twelve men,' Tony Hilton said contemptuously. 'Warner's Empire, by God. I'll do be
tt
er on my own.' He turned, and walked into the forest.
5
The Lovers
'Oh, let him go,' Tom
Warner
said. 'Hell be back, when he's tired of living like an animal. He had always the spirit of a trouble maker. And 'tis true enough I failed him in his present. But not you, Ralph....' he waved his hand, and two of the young men brought up a large box. 'The finest beaver hat in England. Hal, there's enough beer coming ashore for you to bathe in. And Edward, your sword.'
His eyes gleamed as he watched his son take the blade, and slowly turn it over. Caribee. But the boy was, after all, a
Warner
.
Rebecca could read his mind. 'And a man,' she said softly.
Edward raised his head.
‘I
t is good to see you again. So good. How are Uncle Edward and Aunt Jane?
’
'Well.' But her face was solemn. She anticipated his next question.
'And Mother Elizabeth?'
'Dead th
ese two years. She was old, Edward. Old.'
'As we shall all grow old, one day,' Tom declared. 'Meanwhile, there is work to do.'
He had been rejuvenated. The doubts and the fears had been swept away by his reception in Engl
and. He considered it, and rightl
y, no more than a just reward for his efforts, for his courage and his determination, and regre
tt
ed only that he had waited until the second half of his life to reveal such qualities to those in power. Now he bubbled with confidence.
"You may be disappointed,' he told Ashton and Berwicke and Edward,
‘I
n these lads, but they've the backs for work, and ambition to be wealthy.'
"This wealth you speak of,' Ashton remarked. 'You did not bring it back with your"
'Have you not all got new clothes? And weapons? Is there not a sufficient stock of European food, and good wine and cheese, to allow us to enjoy this heathen diet?' Tom bellowed. 'As for the rest, why, it is invested in the future of the colony. John Jefferson, you remember John Jefferson, Ralph? He will be arriving soon enough with another shipload of men. And he'll be bringing the women to make our lads wives. Then we'll see young Hilton come crawling back out of that bush. And for the meanwhile, fear not, old friends, I have made them all take the same oath as ourselves. There'll be no friction with Tegramond.'
He paused, and again gazed at Edward. But he was not disposed to make an issue of what remained only a rumour. The boy had been lonely, and going on the evidence of his own eyes, alone. He could not be blamed for seeking some positive company. Meanwhile, it was necessary to dangle the dream always before their eyes. He at least never doubted that it would come true.
'Aye,' he said. 'This island will be the fortune of us all. And many more besides. St Christopher? 'What rubbish. We're no papists. We have renamed it, by God. Merrifield and Warner, Mer and War, so Merwar's Hope. That's how it shall be marked on the maps forever more. Merwar's Hope. Now here's something to make your eyes gleam.'
For another boat was approaching the shore, a noisy boat,
with
its barkings and yelpings, and soon two mastiffs, a dog and a bitch, came bounding through the shallows.
'We had that trouble, to keep them apart at sea,' Tom said. 'But now, why, they'll mate and provide all the guards we shall ever need. What say you, Tegramond, old friend?"
For the Caribs had gathered in a huddle, staring fearfully at the bounding dogs, who could sense the fear, and now bared their teeth and set their forelegs firmly in the sand; the chief had his hand on the hilt of his sword.
'They'll not harm you, Tegramond,' Tom said. 'Unless you make them, or I tell them.'
The cacique pointed. 'Spanish,' he said.
‘
Aye, the Spaniards use them, to be sure. But we'll not, I promise you
that
, without good cause. Yet a few sharp-toothed brutes will render our numbers more equal,' he remarked to his friends.
‘I
've a mind that Tegramond will not live forever, whereas
this
colony of ours is now planted for eternity.'
His energy could not help but be contagious. Within a month the seed beds were again arranged and filled, and
they
were at work rebuilding the village. He made them clear more land, and in their enthusiasm they encroached across the line drawn by Tegramond, two years before. But the Carib chieftain merely smiled, and continued his weekly visits to the Warners for his cup of wine.
It was a season of endless labour, reminiscent of their first arrival on the island. Edward seldom found the time to escape into the forest during the day, and he was far too tired at night. And besides, he no longer possessed the inclination. There seemed so much to do at home. So much to talk about, with Mama. So much to show Philip, who regarded his elder brother with awe. So many hours to be spent a
tt
empting to entertain Sarah.
But the best part of each day was that spent with Mama. The
Warner
house was the largest in the village, with three rooms and a porch running the whole length of the front, looking out over Sandy Point and the bay. Here Tom had his men construct a chair for Mama, on rounded timbers, so
that
she could sit in the evening and rock herself slowly to and fro, and watch the sun declining into the endless Caribbean Sea. Here her children would gather at her feet, and often enough Berwicke and Ashton would come over as well, to talk, to remember, and to dream. And here Edward could consider her, and think. A great gulf seemed to have been torn out of his life. When he had last seen her, he had known the comfort of her arms as a child, and nothing more. Now she had returned, and he knew the comfort of a woman's arms as a man. Hideous thoughts, but thoughts not to be turned away as he sat on the floor and watched her, her long light brown hair floating over the back of the chair, her gown, so tantalizing in its exposure of sunburned neck and suddenly pale breast, closing in to grip her waist, to trace the outline of her leg under her skirt, for she very rapidly discarded the fashionable hip pads as being quite impossible to manage in a largely physical life such as she had now undertaken. To all of these were matched her face and her smile. Father's possession. The sight and the thought made him sweat, and when he did seek Yarico it was with a desperate intensity which seemed to reassure the
Indian
girl for their less frequent meetings.
He took to returning to the house at odd moments of the day, to observe her and to gain precious moments of private conversation. She was eager to have him close, having missed him from her life for three years, and compounded his problems by inviting him into her bedchamber, often when she was in a state of undress, and on one unforge
tt
able occasion when she had been frightened by a lizard which had got in
through
the window and gone scu
tt
ling across the floor. Her scream had summoned him, because Father was out at the time, and he had burst through the door to discover her pressed against the wall, naked.
For a few terrible minutes he had acted the role she had chosen for him, that of her still young son. He had caught the lizard without difficulty, and laughed, and presented it to her as a harmless creature. She had gazed at him for a moment, and then at it, beginning to smile, while he had been allowed to look, at the endless white of her legs, the tremendous growth of hair between, the sucked in belly, even when she lacked the corsets dictated by habit, and above, the huge breasts. She possessed everything Yarico did, and everything Yarico lacked. Only her nipples remained flaccid. He was her son.
And yet, when she had raised her head, the quivering lizard still held between her hands, and looked into his face, she had realized the danger in which she had placed them. Colour had flared into her
cheeks, and she had licked her li
ps before saying, very softly,
‘I
had forgot how large you are grown, Edward. Here, take your pet, and I will dress myself.'
Yet dismay had not lasted. This was the most terrifying thing of all. She was, he remembered, a dozen years younger than Father, and Father was in a mood of constant preoccupation. Could not a woman flirt with her own son, while revealing always nothing more than the admiration of a mother? She was eager to touch him, to hold his shoulders and feel the rippling muscles, to trace the brown flesh, to wonder, perhaps, at his reluctance to be embraced, to kiss her and touch her back. He dared not. To let her go, having once truly held her in his arms, would be next to impossible. The strangest of terrible thoughts kept entering his head, culmi
nating in the dream of Fath
er dead, and Mother a widow, turning to her eldest son for support, and more than support. For now that he was all but a man there could be no question as to who would succeed Father. Berwicke and Ashton had been tried, and found wanting. Hilton had deserted the colony. The newcomers were no more
than
newcomers; it was remarkable how the Caribs treated them with disdain, when they appeared to notice them at all, while their friendship towards the four original colonists remained unchanging. But that
they
also worshipped the white woman, or at the least found her compellingly a
tt
ractive, was plain to see; she had
to do no more than take a walk
along the beach to have them gathered round in admiration.
Only sanity, and the cloying embraces of Yarico, demanded that he wait for John Jefferson, and the arrival of the promised females, like the other men.
Her name was the Hopewell, and she dropped anchor in the Old Road formed by the isthmus leading to the south peninsular, off the Carib village. As usual everyone on the island gathered to watch her, and to greet the boat which came ashore. For once again they had a splendid crop to be shipped, and the golden leaves were gathered and sheaved.
They stared, and broke into cheers as they saw the flu
tt
er of skirts being lowered into the boats. 'By God,' Ashton said. 'My throat feels as dry as a boy's. What a pity
Tony did not live for this day.