HF - 01 - Caribee (40 page)

Of them all, only he had no cause. Providing he kept his wits about him, and remembered that while he was in his element, they were like fishes cast on the shore, and left to drown in fresh air.

He stood before the house. No guard, naturally. Such a thought would not occur to Paddy O'Reilly. They had drunk all of Hilton's wine, and lay sca
tt
ered about the sand, snoring. The women were absent. What had happened here last night?

'On your feet,' he shouted, and kicked O'Reilly in the thigh.

The big Irishman sat up and scratched his head. 'What? What? By Christ....'

'Aye, and if I had been a Spaniard you'd have been looking Him in the face, if He'd have you.'

O'Reilly scrambled to his feet. 'Are they coming, then?
’

They are,' Edward promised. 'Get your friends awake, arid be sure they're sober. Where are the women?"

They took to the house.' O'Reilly pointed.

Skirts flu
tt
ered, as Susan and Yarico climbed down, followed more slowly by Aline and Philip, and then by Meg Plummer and the other Carib girls and the children.

'We thought
they
'd taken you,' Susan remarked.

‘I
'm not
that
easy to take. But
they
'll
be here in a couple of hours.'

'Mon Dieu,' Aline said. 'But why should they come here?'

'Because they mean to make sure there are no human beings left alive when they leave. They know we've spread over the island.' He frowned at her; her face was pale and it was evident that she had scarcely slept. 'Are you all right?
’

'Yes, monsieur.' She glanced at the Irishmen, who were gazing at her.
‘I
suffered no more
than
threats.'

'For
that
night,' Susan said.
‘I
'll not stand in front of her again.'

They remember too well she's French, Edward,' Philip said.

Aline's pointed chin was thrust forward.
‘I
am one of you, now.'

Edward nodded. "You are that. Well, Yarico?' Yarico sh
rugged. 'Ed
ward, wom
an,' she said. 'Ed-ward must car
e.'

‘I
intend to. And what will the rest of you do when the Dons get here?"

O'Reilly looked at the canoe. 'There's Antigua.'

Ten miles of open sea in that piece of bark? And there are Caribs on Antigua, Paddy. They'd have you strung up before you got landed.'

'We'd best take to the woods,' Yeats said.

'For what?' Susan demanded. 'The dogs will hunt us down.'

'True,' Edward said.
‘If
they
're set to it. And
they
will be.'

'By Christ,' O'Reilly said. 'Are we done, then?
’
'Very likely,' Edward said. 'And we'll be done quicker by either si
tt
ing here and quarrelling, or skulking around the bushes waiting to be dragged down to the beach.'

'So what do we do?" Connor demanded. 'Flap our wings and fly away?
’

Edward faced them. 'They've come here to destroy a rival se
tt
lement, made up of tobacco farmers, not soldiers. They're not considering a fight.'

'Oh, sure,' O'Reilly said. 'Right cowards they are.'

‘I
never said
that
, Paddy. I'm just stating what's in their minds. They want to destroy all foreign se
tt
lements in th
ese islands. Otherwise they'd not have gone on to Nevis and given Monsieur Belain time to leave. That's clear as day. And now they're expecting no resistance. And why should
they
risk their lives? There's nothing here to interest them. Some tobacco, a li
tt
le corn. They'll have that aboard by tonight. And they don'
t
know what's in that forest'

'And you aim to tell them?'

'Just
that
Paddy. We'll make up a story and tell them that.'

'Ye'll fight them?' Susan cried.

‘
You th
ink they'll just look at you because your belly's got a bulge?" he shouted.
‘It
'll make for variety. Aye. I mean to fight them. Every Spaniard we kill gives every one of us a be
tt
er chance of survival. I'm telling you,
they
didn'
t
come here to die.'

'And we're our hands,' Connor said sarcastically.

"Yarico
and I will show you how to make bows and arrows. We have our knives. And we need but one success to gain all the aims we need. By Christ, what are you staring at? You just agreed we were done. This way at the worst we can take a couple of Dons with us. What are you, men or ca
tt
le? You're men, by God. Irish men.'

‘It
'll be like old times,' Yeats mu
tt
ered. 'But who'll lead?"

‘I
'll lead,' Edward told him.

‘
You?' O'Reilly demanded.
‘I
doubt ye've the belly for a game like this one, Ted, lad.'

'Maybe you'll find I've changed, Paddy,' Edward said.
‘
You'd best ask Yeats.'

'Fisticuffs,' O'Reilly said. ' Tis not the same as cu
tt
ing a man's throat, now is it?"

‘I
'll lead, by God,' Edward said. 'Because my name is Edward Warner. Because this island is mine. And if you care to dispute
that
argument, Paddy O'Reilly, you'd best do so right away.'

O'Reilly hesitated, glanced at his fellows, at Susan, at Yarico, standing there with solemn faces. He shrugged. 'Ye
’
ll lead, Ted, lad. At the beginning, to be sure.'

And at the end? The end meant just one unsuccessful engagement. Thus he sweated, as he lay on the ground on an outcrop of rock above the windward beach, and looked down at the smoke rising where Tony Hilton's house had stood, yesterday. And counted the Spaniards; twenty men and an officer. Exactly even, in numbers of men. But those down there earned swords and pistols, and halberds. And they had two dogs, now casting about the beach, sniffing and finding, as they were intended to. Oh, God, he thought, if Father were here. Then there would be no question as to the success of the coming engagement If only Father were here. But to gaze at the horizon in the anxious hope of seeing a sail was to lose resolution in a dream.

A rustle had him turning, knife thrust forward. Just three days ago tins girl had smelt of perfume, had laughed with the confidence of a lady making her way through a world filled with eager admirers, had preferred to remain in the jungle rather
than
walk the street in front of her friends in a torn gown, and had made up her own rules for the living of life itself.

Three days ago it might have been possible to doubt just how much of a human being she was, and how much of a fancy doll. Not any longer. She had discarded her gown and wore her shift, as did Susan. Indeed he had watched her staring at Yarico, who had preferred to revert entirely to the
Indian
, with
thoughtful eyes, where it would never have occurred to Susan to go that far in the search for forest freedom. Aline's feet were bare, as were her shoulders and the curves of her magnificent breasts, and now they were tinged pink by the continuous sun, as were her cheeks and forehead, hi places the flesh was rough an
d threatening to peel, as his
had done on the voyage from England, how many eternities ago? Her fingers, long and delicate, were still topped in places by the slender nails, but these also were no longer white. Just as her mind could no longer be the web of cultured artificiality he had taken and crumpled beneath his hands, as he had done to so many minds. She cleaned fish with Susan and Yarico, she d
isappeared into the forest with
them for her necessaries, and she endured the glowing gazes of the Irishmen
with
out embarrassment any longer. Only in one respect had she p
reserved her individuality; rath
er
than
leave her mahogany brown hair
float in the wind and catch on tree and twig, as did the other women, she ti
ed it back with a length of cloth torn
from the hem of her gown, by her action leaving her face curiously expos
ed, almost like a boy's, and th
us increasing at once its strength and its beauty.

There should have been another aspect of her unique personality to be admired, but for three days she had not laughed. Perhaps
that
first night had revealed to her with too startling a certainty just what situation she had placed herself in. Or perhaps she doubted him. Because for three days he had done nothing more than treat her as any of the other women, and in this she lacked the intimacy, as she had lacked the knowledge and the experience, of Susan and Yarico. But there was no other way. The Irishmen were as hungry as he, and for him to give way to his desires, even for a moment, would be to expose her to everything
they
dreamed of, and their dreams filled their eyes and their faces every time they looked at her.

So now she was risking too much. 'You should not have come,' he said.

'No one saw me leave. They are too excited and too frightened.'

'And you are not?"

She knelt beside him. It was remarkable how the traces of perfume came to him, even above the sweat. But it was the sweat more than anything, the moisture whic
h accompanied her, winch made hi
m want her more than any woman since he had wanted his own mother. 'Yes,' she said. 'But I am happy to be so. These past few days I have wondered how I ever managed to exist, before. Was not all mankind intended by God to live like this? And womankind, too?'

'You'll find it uncomfortable if it continues too long,' he said.

'Never. I but lack your affection.'

He sighed, and turned back to watch the men on the beach. 'You understand our situation.'

'Yes. But that is no reason for you never to smile on me. And now we are alone.'

'You think so? They will have missed you by now, and now
they
will know whence you have gone.'

'Well, then,' she said. 'The damage is done.'

He could not stop his head turning. She was not three feet away from him, the skirt of her shift pulled up to reveal her knees as she knelt. 'Can you not wait until we are married, mademoiselle?'

‘I
could, monsieur. Supposing I was certain of that event. I do not speak now only of the Spaniards. I speak of surviving them.'

'Then you have lost your faith in me.'

‘I
would know whether it was no more than lust.'

No more than lust. No more than lust, at this moment, certainly. Compounded not only by her nearness and her loveliness, but by fear, of the coming few minutes, of his own reaction to it, and of what might happen afterwards. 'You h
ave lived with my people for th
ree days. You have talked
with Susan and Yarico. Do you th
ink I am worth much as a husband?'

'They tell me very li
tt
le
’

"Yet their contempt for me must be evident. You'd do best to wait until our situation is resolved. I am no less confused than you. To claim you now, of your own free will, were to damn you forever to living at my side. And you may prefer to seek your comfort elsewhere, given time.'

'Thus you say I made a grave mistake in deserting my father.'

'Aye,' he said.
‘You
did that, Aline. Now hurry back and tell them that the dogs have picked up our scent.'

As they had been intended to do. The two mastiffs on the beach were casting into the trees, and baying their eagernes
s in
to the morning air. And the officer was giving orders to his men.

Aline stood up. 'You are a savage, Monsieur Warner. I suppose I understood that from the moment of our first meeting, and yet I could not believe it of a white man with a background of gentility. My father was right. I apologize for forcing my company upon you, monsieur. Be sure that I shall not do so again.'

She went through the trees, and he sighed. Christ, how complicated life had become. But if he were a savage, would he not merely have thrown her on her back, at this moment, and taken his pleasure from her, and then gone to ba
tt
le without anxiety, in the sex-induced euphoria which would carry him successfully through whatever lay ahead?

If he were, indeed, a savage. But now, at the least, he must fight like one. He was on his knees, watching the last of the Spaniards enter the forest below him. He turned, and made his way back through the forest to where he had left his people. He could have arrived only seconds after Aline, and found them staring at him. Whatever she had said, they would have no doubts as to what had
happened in the woods. And, th
inking in terms of savages and savagery, what had he here? He gazed at the sweating faces, the loose mouths, the tongues which came out and circled the thick lips, the sharp teeth beyond, the straggling beards, the ta
tt
ered breeches which were all any of them wore, the naked Carib girls and the
three
white women, standing with Philip—Philip, so like Father, who still wore a shirt. They knew nothing of his plans, for he had told them nothing; not even Susan suspected what was in his mind. They knew only
that
in two days they had been unable to master the small, light
Indian
bows Yarico and her companions had made for them. For missile power he must rely on himself and the four Caribs. But the Irish were none the less fighting men, who would do what he commanded, a wolf pack who would follow him at least once. He wondered if Aline realized that as she stood beside
them. But no doubt Aline, with
that still undamaged self confidence of hers, supposed that in experiencing Edward Warner at his worst she had actually experienced mankind at his worst, and having survived, she had nothing more to fear.