HF - 01 - Caribee (56 page)

As the
Indian
s would have known. The rain was slackening. It was possible to raise his head and look into the steaming green forest. So, had they ignored the march of the white men for
this
day, because they had known the rain would come? Or had they but postponed their a
tt
ack?

He stood up. 'Loose those dogs, Brian. Send word back down the column to resume the march.'

' 'Tis still raining, Ted, lad,' Connor protested. 'Should we not wait a while longer?'

"That's what Wapisiane will be hoping,' Edward said. 'His bow strings will also have to be dried. We'll march, now. Loose those dogs.' He hurried back down the column himself, roused men to
their
feet with slaps and curses.

Even Tom Warner was slow to react. 'Youll press on now?' he demanded. 'We've no useful powder.'

'And Wapisiane will know that, Father. He will be using the rain as a weapon. We must march.'

He got them all on their feet at last, and hurried back up to the head of the column, panting, and each breath now searing his lungs as a slight breeze had arisen to chase away the last of the clouds, but at the same nine to blow gusts of pure sulphur across the forest.

The dogs remained unhappy, no longer baying with the confidence of an hour before, but staying closer together, and casting from side to side of the padi almost fearfully.

'People, you dunk?' Connor wanted to know.

'Could be just the sulphur. With the smell this strong we cannot be far away.'

Edward had not finished his sentence before he heard the hiss of the first arrow, and one of the Irishmen gave a cry. 'Down,' he yelled. 'Down. Pass the word back. Down.'

He threw himself full length on the sodden earth, jarring his shoulder against his cuirass, and watching an arrow thud into the bole of the tree before which he had just been standing. From farther back along the column there came shouts and curses, but whetiier they were caused by actual wounds or the discomforts of the earth he could not be sure.

'You'll get diose dogs back, Brian,' he said.

'Aye.' Connor commenced whistling, and the dogs came back tinough the bushes, but now there were only ten of them.

'Who was it hurt?' Brian demanded.

' 'Tis me, your honour. Gerald Murphy.'

‘I
s is bad?' Edward asked.

'Sticking up out of me shoulder, your honour, and hurting like the devil.'

'We'll have it out in a moment. Keep down.'

But the arrows had stopped. Wapisiane was also waiting.

One of the sailors came crawling up the path, his knees making h
uge suckin
g noises e
very time they left the mud, his cloth
es and armour covered with the glutinous brown. 'Sir Thomas sends his compliments, Captain Warner,' he said. 'He wishes to know why we do not clear these savages from the bushes, if indeed
they
are as close as you suggested.'

'Because
that
is what Wapi
siane hopes we will a
tt
empt,' Edward said. 'The arrows will do us li
tt
le harm, but should we enter the forest hi small groups, we would become easy victims. Tell Sir Thomas to spare no effort to dry his powder.'

‘If
such a th
ing is possible,' Connor grunted. 'Now then, Gerry me boy, it's coming out.'

Murphy u
tt
ered a thin wail. 'D'ye think it's poisoned, your honour? I have heard tell. ...'

'Spread about by the Dons, Gerald,' Edward reassured him. 'You'll survive, providing we stop that bleeding. Spare a piece of your shirt, Brian.'

'Oh, aye, my shirt, to be sure.'

They at least had suffered no diminution in morale. And neither, basically, had the dogs, who seemed glad of the rest, and lay on the wet earth panting and licking themselves. And now the arrows came again, whispering through the trees, striking branches and falling to the earth with
gentle
th
uds.

Hilton came crackling through the bushes, also on his hands and knees. 'What sorry business is
this
, Ned?’
he demanded. 'Are we to lie here, skulking, before a pack of naked savages? That were no way to win a campaign.'

‘It
is the only way to win this one, Tony,' Edward said. 'Patience. And ours is already proving the superior. Else why should Wapisiane waste his arrows on the empty air? Well move on the moment it gets dark.
’

'You'd go through this forest at night? Why, man, that is suicide.'

'For whom? Do you imagine the
Indian
s have some supernatural power which enables them to see in the dark?' They will certainly hear us.'

‘I
am counting on it. Can you not understand? They will hear the tramp of armoured men, the baying of the dogs, coming ever closer, and yet have no certain knowledge of where we
are. And we will be guided both
by the dogs and
by our own nostrils. Remember,
they are fighting for their homes, against a force they count at least equal but more likely superior to their own. You must instil this into your people, Tony. We have no cause to fear them, and their puny sticks and arrows. But they know they have every cause to fear our steel and our lead and our dogs.'

'By God,' Hilton said. ' Tis a point I had not considered. You are general here, Ned, and right glad am I
that
it should be so.'

The arrows continued to whisper through the trees for more than an hour, and several m
en were wounded, but only slightl
y. They grumbled, and fingered their weapons, and stared into the forest, but they obeyed
their
commanders and lay still, while the afternoon grew cool, and the light began to fade. And always the heavy smell of the sulphur lay across the day to remind them of how close they were to their goal. Edward wondered what thoughts were running through Wapisiane's mind. The
Indian
had no means of knowing how many of the white men had been hurt in his a
tt
ack; would it not lie a temptation to launch an assault through the trees? There would be a rapid and certain conclusion to the campaign; Edward had no doubt at all of the outcome could he but oppose his steel to the Caribs' wood and flesh.

But the forest remained silent, and in time even the steam ceased to rise from the ground and the arrows to strik
e the trees with their gentle th
uds. And now the sun was gone, se
tt
led at last beh
ind the mountains over which
they
had come, plummeting downwards towards the quiet sea. He almost smi
led. Here he was fighting a battl
e on his very own terms, at sun down rather than at sun up.

He crawled into the midst of the Irishmen, sprawled on the wet ground, each man holding two of the dogs' leashes. 'You'll give me those, Brian,' he said. 'And make your way down the column to tell them to prepare to move on. Now mark me well. It will be dark in a few minutes. Each one of us must keep close to the man in front. More than ever, there must be no straggling. Tell Mr Hilton.'

‘I
'll do that, Ted,' Connor agreed. 'We'll be ending it soon, then?'

'God willing.'

'Aye. He will be, if He's on our side. I
tell ye straight, Ted, I'd not li
ke to spend a night in tins dismal, foul-smelling place.'

He crawled down the column, and Edward took the leashes. The movement had altered the dogs, and they were straining and winning. But Edward waited for Connor to return before giving the order to advance. Wearily the men rose to their feet, stretching
their
cramped muscles, adjusting their breastplates, replacing their helmets. The column gave out a gigantic whisper of sound which surely penetrated far into the forest, and Edward had the command once again ready on his lips, but the trees on either side remained silent. The
Indian
s had withdrawn. Yet this too was an important pointer to the coming night; Wapisiane had his people as much in hand as Edward had his. There was no easy path here.

He gave the command and loosed the dogs. They bounded forward, and then slowed again, their nostrils clogged by the ever increasing stench of the sulphur. But their task of scenting was finished; they were approaching their role of destroyers.

Now once again the path led upwards, as uncer
tain and as broken as ever, with
sha
tt
ered tree trunks lying across it and sudden soft pits into which the men stumbled with curses. It was a miracle that no one had as yet broken a leg; judging by the comments it seemed certain there were a few sprains. But the principal obstacle to speed was the air, which grew more difficult to breathe with every step.

The dogs stopped, clustered at the top of the rise. Edward hurried forward to reach them at the same time as the
Irishmen. It was now quite da
rk, and the moon had not yet risen, yet he could tell he was at the edge of a shallow precipice, and he could tell too that he looked down on no forest, but on an empty area filled with clouds of slowly floating vapour. Yet the path had led here, and clearly they were meant to scramble down the steep slope in front of them.

'By Christ,' Connor mu
tt
ered. 'But this place grows more miserable with every yard. What do we do now, Ted?"

'Halt the column, for a start,' Edward commanded. 'And ask Sir Thomas and Mr Hilton to join me here.'

They came forward a moment later, accompanied by the French officers. 'By God, what a dismal place,' Hilton remarked. 'Do we cross that?"

‘It
would seem there is no other way.'

'Mon Dieu,' Solange said. 'But that is the crater of a volcano.'

'And it smokes,' Lafi
tt
e pointed out.

‘It
rather steams,' Edward argued. 'At the least there is no movement of the earth, which must surely accompany a potential eruption. But I would not risk the entire force in such a venture. I will lead a reconnaissance, and see if I can find a suitable way across this valley, and indeed, see if we can find what lies beyond, before returning to you.'

T
hat is madness,' Tom declared. ‘I
s it not just what the Caribs will be hoping for, that we will detach small scouting parties which they can destroy?'

‘In
any event,' Hilton objected. 'You are our general. If you are determined upon such a course, certain it is you cannot lead it yourself.'

Edwar
d chewed his lip. There was soun
d sense in both their arguments, but he could send no one else, with any promise of success, and the alternative was to admit his plan had been faulty, and wait here for daylight. Worse, it would mean that Wapisiane had once again outwi
tt
ed him.

‘
You must know,' Yarico said, 'how bad you want for come to Wapisiane.'

They turned in confusion, reaching for swords and pistols. Not even the dogs had heard her approach—it was asking too much of them to have smelt her amidst the stench of the sulphur—but there she was, a wisp of a figure in the darkness, wearing nothing more than her apron, and unarmed.

'Yarico?' Edward whispered. 'Are you not a spirit?'

She tossed her head.

'But how come you here, girl?' Tom demanded.
‘
Wapisiane send,' she said.

'Now, that you'll have to explain,' Hilton said.
‘
We had supposed you his captive.'

She shrugged. 'He beat. He treat like dog. But Yarico not cry. Yarico got for live. So he say, Yarico live, Yarico princess again, if Yarico help.'

'Help?" Tom asked.

Oh, Christ, Edward thought, why cannot they be quiet? Why cannot we let her speak, so that she will tell us the one thing we must know, but dare not ask.

'Wapisiane say, why white men not stop?
Indian
not fight by night. I say, War-nah never stop. So Wapisiane say, then War-nah come more quick. Path through forest. Round dead valley. I lead War-nah and few men, say for surprise a
tt
ack on village.'

'By God,' Hilton said. "There's a cunning devil.' 'And he will be waiting to overwhelm the few men,' Tom said. 'But supposing the entire force takes that way?"

Again the contemptuous shrug. Then you see nobody. Empty village.'

‘I
begin to get his drift. And supposing we wait for daylight, and make a frontal assault across the valley? I'm assuming the village is on the farther side.'

'Village there,' she said. 'But valley bad. Hot stream, no air. Wapisiane wait on far side, fire arrow, run into forest.'

‘I
begin to wonder if this scoundrel is a savage after all,' Tom remarked. ' 'Tis certain he has the makings of a general. Well, Edward? What is your decision?'