HF - 03 - The Devil's Own (41 page)

'I early saw the villain in him, if that is what you mean,' Philip Warner said. But his face glowed with angry embarrassment.

'And is it not true that the French, seeking to make capital between Englishman and Indian, elected Tom Warner to the Governorship of Dominica, meaning thus to enlist him for all time on their side? Yet is he half-Warner, and half-English. And so he proved at Green Grove, that he has not finally turned his back on that glorious heritage.'

'Yet would he revenge
himself upon my body, and as he
hoped, upon my mind,' Marguerite said.

Kit turned to her. 'Indeed, my sweet. But there is the nub of the matter. The quarrel is entirely between Warner and Warner. Sad it is that it should involve so many innocent people.'

'And would you leave it to my father to fight it out with my uncle?' she demanded angrily. And stand to one side, and congratulate the victor?'

'That were no less a pre-Christian solution,' Kit said. 'But gentlemen, suppose Tom Warner and Philip Warner were to shake their hands together, and attest their names to a treaty of peace between Indian and Englishman, between Dominica and the Leewards? Suppose that could be done, gentlemen. What then of the future? For be sure that we will have fight-

ing enough, against the French and the Dons, to satisfy the most bloodthirsty belly, without raising the redskins against us into the bargain.'

'Balderdash,' Harding shouted. "What treaty could a savage understand?'

'I speak of no savage,' Kit insisted. 'But of a man who can bend the savages to his will.'

'Yet it is still specious talk,' Philip Warner said. 'There is much hatred between Tom and myself. Too much to be reconciled at the snap of a finger. I know not how I should go about it. Nor do I know how I could force my nature to speak friendship with a devil from hell.'

'Then allow me, Colonel Warner,' Kit said. 'For as you once pointed out, I too am a devil from hell.'

The assembly fell silent, afraid to agree with him, unable to argue that point.

'And why should he listen
to you, Captain Hilton?' Staple
ton inquired.

'Because, sir, as he told me but a few days gone, my grandmother, and her lover, Edward Warner, were the only white people ever to show him kindness.'

'And you'd put your trust in that, buccaneer?' someone asked.

'They'd have you stripped and tied to a stake before you could draw your sword,' Bale remarked.

'The risk is mine, gentlemen. I will take it. I have a son and a daughter. I have no wish to see them on the ground at the feet of a red man. And be sure that that fate is one which may overtake the family of every man here if this feud is allowed to fester.'

They stared at him. Stapleton was first to speak. 'If you have sufficient faith, in yourself and in this savage, to attempt such a solution to our problem, why then, we were men of little sense, and certainly of little Christianity, did we not consider the attempt worth our while. What say you, Colonel Warner?'

Philip Warner hesitated, and then snorted. 'Let the captain pursue his aims, Sir William. But he'll go alone, by God. Bring my brother, and his fellow chieftains, down to the beach, Kit, unarmed and in a mood for talk, and by God, we shall meet them, unarmed, and in a mood for talk. But until they appear beside you, why, by God, my armament and my ships and I will stand in a posture of defence, and if need be, we shall avenge you together with all our other dead.'

'Aye,' Edward Chester said. 'Spoken like a sensible man, Philip.'

'Then it seems we have arrived at an equitable solution,' Stapleton said. 'We shall recruit our army, and send it across the sea, and pray that it shall not need its strength. Aye, there were a Christian intent.'

'And do I have no say in this matter?' Marguerite demanded. 'As it is my body you partly seek to avenge, and my husband you are so carelessly sending to his death?'

'At his request, Mrs Hilton,' Stapleton protested.

'It is the best way, Marguerite,' Kit said. 'You know of what we spoke. I cannot give you back those terrible moments on the floor. I can but erase their memory with moments as beautiful as those were horrible, time and again. I can only give you happiness where you have known misery. But we are both young. We have a great time to live, God willing, and be happy. Can we really swear to do so with the Carib menace hanging above us like a cloud for the rest of our lives, and knowing too that it will similarly overhang the lives of our children?'

Marguerite gazed at him, her lips parted as if she would have spoken again. Then her eyes flickered, across his right shoulder, and he knew she looked at her father. Still she hesitated, for several seconds. Then she muttered, 'So be it,' and turned, and left the chamber.

The sun filled the sky with all the splendid power of a Caribbean noon. But the island remained dark. A green so intense it seemed almost black, clustering over rock and valley, headland and bay, appearing to grow out of the black sand beach itself, which did no more than form a narrow bridge between the forest mass and the deep blue of the sea. Susan had never seen Dominica, but she had spoken of it, often enough, and it must have appeared no different, Kit realized, to Tony Hilton and Edward Warner when they had come here more than half a century ago.

'No peace in
their
hearts,' Philip said at his elbow, and he turned in surprise. The Deputy Governor had avoided him during the overnight sail from Antigua, even as he had studiously avoided being alone with him during the week of frenzied preparation just past. Now he smiled, grimly. 'Aye, I can read your thoughts, Kit. They can be little different to mine.'

'You were not on that expedition.'

'No. My father wanted one of his sons, at the least, to survive. But they accomplished their objective, which was to destroy the Carib power for a generation. And to regain Edward's wife, Aline. What the devil is that leadsman doing?'

For indeed the dark mountains seemed to overhang the three ships.

'Yet have I heard that deep water extends practically up to the beaches,' Kit said.

'In places. I would not like us to go aground, just in case the savages do not respond to your peaceful notions, Kit.' Philip went to the rail. 'You'll wear ship and prepare to anchor, sir.'

Bale looked up. 'We have not that much chain, Colonel Warner.'

'The weather is settled, man. So long as the anchor but nudges the bottom to hold us from drifting, there will be no danger. We are not planning to abandon our vessels here. And break out the long-boat.' He came back to the stern. 'You'll not change your mind, Kit?'

'That would scarce be either honourable or wise, sir,' Kit said. 'And in any event, it would certainly be unnecessary. I perceived in your brother a heritage he could not throw off no matter how hard he tried. And a wisdom which was all I had expected, of a Warner. An appeal to both of those things must have results.'

'Then here is my hand.' Their fingers clasped. 'But mark me well. Stand once again on the beach by noon tomorrow, or I shall mount an assault in which quarter will be an unknown word.'

'I shall be there. And you will guarantee the safety of whomsoever I bring with me? There are some right cut-throats in this fleet.'

'Their safety will be my responsibility, Kit,' Philip said.

'Then I am content. 'Til noon tomorrow.'

He climbed down the ladder, sat in the stern of the boat as it pulled for the shore. Now they were in the shelter of the mountains the breeze had dropped, and the day was steaming hot. The sun seemed to hang over the stern of the longboat, and the men sweated as they pulled. But then, Kit realized, he also sweated. With fear? He did not think so. But memory kept crowding him, of that day off Hispaniola, when they had lain in the swell, and watched the Spanish coaster drifting. The commencement of a lifetime of violence, from which he only vainly attempted to escape. There was a specious statement. Could any man, or woman, own a plantation and turn his back on violence?

The keel grated, and the sailors backed their oars. Two men jumped over the bows to hold the boat steady, and Kit made his way forward. Now there was cause for fear; the crowding trees were certainly within bowshot, and waiting beneath them were six of the great war canoes, upturned on the black volcanic sand. Yet not a leaf moved, and there was no sound above t
he gentle splash of the littl
e surf.

He jumped on to the beach, and the men immediately pushed the boat back into the swell before scrambling on board. 'God go with you, Captain Hilton,' the coxswain called.

'I thank you, friend.' Kit gazed at the ships, nodding to their anchors a hundred yards away. The ports were opened and the guns run out, and they presented a splendid sight. His last, of European humanity? But now was scarce the time for backsliding. He turned, to face the trees, and instinctively dropped his left hand to rest on the hilt of his sword, only to have it fall uselessly at his side. For he had left his sword, as he had left his pistols, on board. Kit Hilton, alone and unarmed. And how alone he felt.

Slowly he walked up the beach towards the trees, seeking some sort of path. And there it was, a distinct thinning in the forest, immediately behind the war canoes, a roadway of earth and leaves beaten flat by the tramplings of innumerable feet. But still the canoes lay there, untended. But not unwatched. He was sure of that, and turned again, sharply, hoping to catch the forest unawares.

The green wall stared at him.

He took off his hat, and the bandanna he wore underneath, and dried the sweat from his face and neck. Then he replaced both, and stepped beneath the trees, following the uneven path up a shallow hillside. After a few minutes he paused, and looked back, and saw nothing but trees and bushes. The forest had closed around him like a living creature. Perhaps the beach was not there, nor the sea, nor the ships. Certainly that was easy to believe.

But in here it was no longer silent. He was surrounded by the rustle of flowing water, to suggest a stream nearby. And the air was cooler too, as the glare was diminished. Not even the Caribbean sun could fully penetrate these leafy rooftops.

He climbed, and lost track of time as rapidly as he had lost track of his whereabouts. Often the path became too steep for walking, and he had to use his hands as well as his toes to pull himself upwards, while the sweat drained from his hair and shoulders and soaked his clothes. It was while climbing thus that he suddenly faced naked feet, and reared back so violently he all but fell. His head jerked, and he stared at a savage standing above him, bow already bent and arrow fitted, scarce seeming to breathe, perhaps a statue, but for the venom in his eyes.

Kit balanced himself as best he could, and raised both his arms high into the air. 'Don't shoot,' he shouted. 'I am unarmed. I come in peace. I seek your cacique. I seek the Governor.'

'Why, Captain Hilton?' asked Indian Warner, and Kit dropped his hands to grasp the rock as he turned his head. Tom Warner stood behind and below him, with a dozen of his braves. And now he realized there were others on either side of him. They had been there, no doubt, since he had started his climb.

'Why?' Tom Warner asked again. 'You come as the representative of a fleet of white men. Do you know what happened when last the white men landed in Dominica, Captain Hilton? They fought a battle, and won, by their superior arms, and then they burned and pillaged. They seized the wounded braves, and any women they could find, and they hanged them,
Captain Hilton. Why should I not have my men strip the flesh from your bones, now?'

Kit got his breathing under control. 'Because I hope to convince you that it would be to your interest to listen to me, and even to agree with me. If my people have wronged you, Mr Warner, be sure that you have wronged me. Thus we can meet on equal ground, at least this once.'

Tom Warner hesitated. And then smiled. 'You speak the truth, Captain Hilton. By your lights, at the least. Come, we will talk with my people. And with my mother.'

'Y
ou
r
mother still lives?' Kit asked in amazement.

'Should she not, Captain Hilton? And she will be glad to talk with Tony Hilton's grandson. Now come.'

He climbed up to Kit and past him, and Kit hastily scrambled behind him. The Indian with the bow loosened his string and put away his arrow, and the other Caribs followed. Som
e of th
em. More melted away into the forest, to watch the white man's fleet. They suspected treachery. That must be his principal concern, Kit realized, to overcome the suspicion which afflicted both, but which had been started by the massacre of the Indian tribe in St Kitts by this very man's father.

They climbed for more than two hours, and then they must have been high above the sea, Kit thought, perhaps a thousand feet and more. Yet the trees never thinned, and it was not possible to see the ocean, and the peaks covered in trees went on soaring on either side. Then they at last descended, and soon enough his nostrils were afflicted by the ghastly taint of sulphur. But Susan had warned him of this also, and he was prepared for the sudden cessation of the forest, which ended with an abruptness as if some deity had drawn a line, as perhaps He had, to allow below them only a valley of empty rock, dotted with pools and crossed by a stream, all of which seethed and bubbled and emitted clouds of noxious vapour. The Valley of Desolation.