HF - 01 - Caribee (31 page)

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Authors: Christopher Nicole

Tags: #Historical Novel

BOOK: HF - 01 - Caribee
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'Now there's a pre
tt
y sight.' Hilton stood on the beach below the house and gazed up at the ugly barrel which protruded above his head.
‘I
'm almost wishing those red-skinned devils would come back. A ball from that beauty would blow a bit of sense into their canoes.'

Wapisiane. A savage of above average capability. That first expedition, to Windward, had been intended as nothing more
than
a reconnaissance. Next time his destination would be Sandy Point.

'Sure, and it'd be be
tt
er if they'd wait until the roofs on,' O'Reilly said. 'Just in case it starts to rain, like.'

Hilton clapped him on the shoulder. 'You've a general's mind, Paddy. I see you yet, leading your wild Irish against the King's men, when you get home.'

'Aye,'
O'Reilly said. 'Except that I’ll
not be going home.'

'Not even when your time is up?

Edward asked in surprise.

'What, be off to hang? Not me, Ted, lad. I'm staying in these blessed islands.'

'And so say all of us,' Connor agreed.

'Think your father would give us land, when we've served our time, Ted?"

'Now that I really can'
t
say.'

' 'Tis a few years off yet, Paddy,' Hilton said. 'And in a few years a lot can happen. Who knows, we'll be having a new governor by then, maybe, eh, Ned?'

‘I
'll drink to that,' O'Reilly said. 'Now and any time.'

That's treason,' Edward declared. The Governor acts as the representative of the King, and to wish for his death is as serious as wishing for the death of King Charles himself. I'll hear no more of
that
.'

"Why, sir. . . .' O'Reilly began, but was halted by a quick shake of the head from Hilton.

'We've no politics on Windward,' he declared. 'And we're be
tt
er off without them. And I'm right happy with the work you lads have put in these last few days. This afternoon is a holiday.'

They gave him three cheers, and within minutes had fallen to fighting amongst themselves as the wine bo
tt
le was passed. Edward left them to it, and sought the encampment on the beach, a hundred yards upwind. Here he would find Susan. It was incredible, that he should be able to think that, with Tony at his heels. Incredible that Tony should be able to think that too, and
that
they should remain friends. Friends. Now there was an understatement. They were blood brothers. Hardly appropriate. Semen brothers. Brothers in sin and crime, who worshipped at the same shrine.

But this, surely, was what woman was created for. She sat on the beach in front of her tent, wearing a shift, which remained always her favourite garment, alike for its coolness and the absence of restrictions it placed on her movements, and brushed her hair. She was fond of this, and never tired of the long, exhausting sweeps of her arm. Perhaps she too found her hair exciting. He suddenly wondered what she would look like, bald. What she would feel like, bald. But his brain was always becoming filled with diese devilish, irrelevant, dangerous ideas.

There was a remarkable thought. As if any idea could ever be dangerous again after the one which Tony had implanted in his brain, and which they now implemented to the full.

He threw himself full length
on the sand beside her, and leaned forward to kiss her toes.

'They're a good lot,' Hilton said, si
tt
ing beside his wife.
'Do you not think so, sweetheart?
"

‘I
'll not argue against my own people.'

'And yet, how wasted they are, labouring in this hot sun. If ever there was a race created by God to fight and love and drink it is the Irish. Certain it is they are good for nothing else.'

‘I
'd not argue with that, either,' Susan said, and brought her legs together, for Edward to roll on his back and rest his head across her thighs. 'Why so solemn, today?"

'Solemn? Not I, sweetheart. Not I.' Hilton pointed, at the sails winch were almost hull down on the horizon. 'There goes Jefferson, and the Governor. And now we are more of a colony than ever before. We are recruited, and he has left us three ships, so that we need never agai
n be cut oil. This place will th
rive, from now on. It but remains for us to decide how the thriving will be. Will Merwar's Hope always be no more than an extension of England, as the ancient Greeks would have it, a true colony, or will we seek to make a new nation, here in the Caribbean, with new laws and perhaps a new religion, with a new conception of what our lives, or deaths, or meaning, are all about.'

Edward's eyes opened. Here, then, was what he had been expecting the past week. Tony had c
learly been working up to someth
ing, from the very beginning.

'Ye are uncommonly serious this afternoon,' Susan said.
‘If
your wild Irish are indeed holidaying, I shall have to go up the beach to bathe. Will ye
gentle
men accompany me?"

'Stay a while,' Tony said.
‘I
wish to speak with Edward, and he will listen while he can touch you at the same time.'

'You are a vulgar-, blasphemous, traitorous dog, Tony Hilton,' Edward pointed out.

Hilton smiled. Incredible how winning was that smile, breaking through the loom of the pock-marked features.

'Because I wish you to think? You may have forgo
tt
en that your father himself dreamed of such an outcome to our travels, before he became obsessed with propriety.'

'No doubt because he discovered that propriety is an essential part of life. There seems to be no more than two choices. Either we preserve our identity as Englishmen, as loyal subjects of King Charles, or we descend to the level of savages, or perhaps
lower. We have experienced both
, Tony, and so we know how true that is.'

‘I
would scarce agree with you. We knew less of the climate,
then
, and the people. And ourselves, perhaps. We lacked numbers. And I would hold us three up as examples of how people may make a new life, and lose
nothing
of their essential beings.' He turned on his hands and knees, to face them.
‘I
must speak my mind, Edward. We three, we share too much for us to have secrets from one
another
. Is that not so?'

'Aye,' Edward said.

‘I
understand not a word of what y
e are saying. I'm going to battl
e.' Susan dropped her shift on the sand and walked down the beach. No doubt she expected them to follow her.

'So listen to me,' Hilton said. 'There is deep unrest in Sandy Point, and not only amongst the Irish. Your father thinks it is a constant difference of outlook between the new arrivals and the old. But he is wrong. He knows nothing of what goes on amongst his people, because he cuts himself off from them, sees them only in church. No doubt he has a lot on his mind. And no d
oubt he has a lot to do with hi
s spare time, and that red-skinned temptress of his. And no doubt she but nightly increases the burden weighing on his conscience. You'll hear me out, Ned. The fact is, the very newest arrivals are all he can count on for support. The old hands are that discontented with their lot. 'Tis the church that bothers them most. The main left England to escape the constant quarrels between Laud and the Covenanters, the conception that a man should go to gaol or lose all his wealth merely by choosing to worship God in a house not ordained and selected by the Government. And that is why they come here, why they flock to the Virginias and the Massachuse
tt
s colony, far more than merely to escape paying a li
tt
le ship money. So what do they find? Mailing has grown as high church as any archbishop, and he records absentees in that book of his. Your name figures prominently.'

'O'Reilly has been whispering in your ear.'

'Not just him. I get word from Sandy Point. 'Tis an explosive situation, boy. And when a situation gets this combustible, 'tis best to light the fuse yourself, before someone else gets careless with a match. Now, there is not a man on this island, myself included, would willingly go against Tom Warner. But Hal Ashton....'

'You preach mutiny,' Edward said quietly. 'Against my own father, and against your own friend, whether he is here or not. Nor do I understand why you turn to me. You seek to find some resentment within me at being passed over? I would be lying should I pretend that I do not feel some resentment. And yet, this is justice. I am still not twenty-one, not yet a man in the eyes of the law. And in addition, I am regarded as a drunken layabout entirely lacking in backbone by the colonists, as a joke by the Irish. These opinions were shared by yourself, until very recently.'

‘I
regre
tt
ed them, and I hoped to be proved wrong. As I think I have been, by your willingness to draw on me. I'll tell you why I turn to you, Ned. There are two reasons, closely connected. Firstly, as you say, Tom is my friend. It was his will drove us to this island, drove us to prosperity. I'd not have the name of Warner dissociated from our future. The second reason is even more important. We must grow. How we do that is our concern, that is what we are speaking about. But for the time being we are yet an infant, like to be choked out of existence by any armed fleet. We must dissemble, and continue our loyal obedience to the English Crown, until we are strong enough to care for our own, until every house on the island sports a cannon like that one over there, until there are enough houses to make it beyond the ability of any Stuart king to assail us. For
that
, we must continue the grant as it is. Tom has read it to us often enough. It is to Thomas Warner and his heirs. Any successor who does not bear the name of Warner will indeed be a felon and a traitor. But you, Ned. In the eyes of the world you are his natural heir. And let me add this. He has li
tt
le enough justification for his position, now. He has broken his own laws, and not only in the ma
tt
er of Yarico. Should the truth
of the massacre at Blood River ever come out, be sure
that
he would he impeached. And returned to occupy
that
very Tower which was once your home. We can save him
that
, Ned.'

Edward got up. Treason,' he said. 'No ma
tt
er how you dress it up, Tony, it remains treason. Treason by you, against your lawful lord, and treason by me, against my own father.'

‘It
is a sport of kings, treason. Their only sport, one would suppose, looking over the pages of English history. Aye, and Scots, and Irish. Yet the institution survives, more often than not to the good of the country.'

Edward faced him.
‘I
do not quarrel with much of your reasoning. Father has lost his way. I sometimes wonder if he ever possessed as much certainty of purpose as he pretends, as others suppose in him. Certainly his being in this part of the world at all is much of an accident. Yet he has always followed a dream, to the best of his ability, as do we all. This colony, this island, is his life, and his reason for life. Take that away from him and he will have nothing. Perhaps he is unduly stern at times and perhaps he seeks to re-create aspects of England. It will take the weight of history to determine whether or not he is right or wrong. You and I, we have the time to wait, and see, in the certainty, as you say,
that
I must succeed him. I would prefer to do it legally, and not while his back is turned.'

The dutiful son,' Hilton sighed.
‘I
'd not want to disturb your spirit, Ned, but you're forge
tt
ing
that
you're not the only Warner left on this island.'

'Philip? Why....'

'He is but a boy, to be sure. Scarce fourteen years old. I remember you as a man, at fourteen, Ned. Perhaps you should look more closely on your brother. Study him. You will not find a more industrious, sober, Godfearing youth on this island or any other. The very apple of his father's eye. I can see no certainty that the eldest son must succeed.'

'Why, you ... it is the law.'

'Providing there is no impediment. Where the eldest son is a lawbreaker, who will not a
tt
end service, who drinks with drunken Irish labourers, who has already been guilty of at least one act of mutiny... for make no mistake, your refusal to take part in the a
tt
ack on the Carib village was mutiny, Edward. Punishable with death, under any other commander. And when to top it all, it becomes known that the boy lives in
open sin with another man's wif
e. . . .'

'You sco
undrel
,' Edward cried. ' Twas your doing.'

'And 1 bear no grudge. Indeed, I admit it freely. These past few weeks have been the happiest I have known. And Susan also. And you, I'd reckon. Yet we'd be fools to suppose we can continue our arrangement indefinitely, without word creeping back to Sandy Point. What the
n? I at the least have no gover
norship
to lose.'

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