The black swan (89 page)

"Don't struggle. Captain Tremain. You will find Chad has done an excellent job of securing your hands and feet to the bed. For a man accustomed to attack you have a remarkable faculty for deep sleep."

Adam tested the rope on his wrists. It was secure. He strained, raising his head. A disheveled, sorrowful man slouched in the door. Another, muscular well-dressed blond man stood at the window, his back to Adam. And Edmund Revanche sat, relaxed and urbane, chatting with him.

"What do you want. Revanche?"

"Oh, now, Captain! Surely, you can surmise what I want. Once you challenged me. Remember? Yes, I thought you might. Perhaps, then, you will also recall another meeting. At Gray Oaks. I see you do. That is commendable. There was also an earlier occasion. Three times you interfered in my life. Captain Tremain, and three times you disrupted it badly. You deprived me of my livelihood as well. I cared a great deal for Gray Oaks. I spent years making it a showplace any man would envy. Don't you agree I owe you something? It is only fair that I should have my way with you. Once. Just once."

Adam remained silent. He wouldn't give Edmund the satisfaction of hearing him ask what he intended. Let the man enjoy his moment. Let him talk in his quiet, cold, sophisticated manner. Tom and Seth and the others would return. Time was on his side, and Edmund did enjoy talking. He liked seeing the effect of his power.

Edmund smiled as he watched Adam's face. "No one will come." He played with a piece of rope, methodically twisting the splayed end. "Men will do nearly anything for money—gold. Captain. I have hired five ruffians to go from one salt camp to another creating havoc in your name. It is an odd thing—people love a hero, but they love better to find he has feet of clay. Given sufficient evidence, they are eager to believe the vilest of rumors. At the moment your friends think they're chasing the Black Swan. Quite a hero until he turned bad for the sake of filthy lucre. I hear the Yankees got to him. They say he's being paid fabulous sums for each saltworks he closes. Some even claim he's been promised a political post in Lincoln's government."

"No one will believe that. Certainly not the swamp people."

"No? You think my men are not adept enough to make it believable? Perhaps not. But it won't matter to you, Captain." Edmund smiled again. His fingers formed a steeple against his lips. He looked up at Chad. 'The Captain and I have chatted long enough. Take him outside, Chad, and be careful. Captain Tremain has a reputation as a brawler. Do whatever you must, short of killing him."

Chad, his eyes cold blue and expressionless in his florid, broad-planed face, examined Adam impersonally. He flexed his heavy shoulders, straining beneath his frock coat, as he carefully fitted his kid gloves to his hands. From his pocket he drew a knife, snapping the blade open. He sliced through the rope at the top of the bed.

Adam clenched and relaxed his numb fingers to get the blood circulating. Chad cut the rope at his feet. Adam's feet were still hobbled, and his hands bound together, but he was free of the bed.

"Get up. Captain. Move slowly, please. I should not like to mess my beautiful coat by having to punish you for foolhardy disobedience."

Adam eyed him warily, then glanced at the pale, sweating man by the door. Adam drew his legs up, kicking at Chad's stomach. The man reeled back against the other bunks. He crashed to the floor.

Adam was on his feet, hopping and staggering against the hobble on his ankles. As he had guessed, the other man made no move to stop him. He pressed against the wall, giving Adam room to get out the door.

Edmund watched, amused as Adam awkwardly leaped and hopped toward the swamp. "The man has the instincts of a moth near flame." Edmund put out his hand to prevent Chad from racing after him. "Barefoot, he couldn't survive an hour. Perhaps we should let the snakes perform our task for us. But no. We'd not have the pleasure of watching. Give him a few moments to enjoy his freedom, Chad."

"W-why we gonna do this, E'mun'? C-can't we jes' let *im go?" Josiah stammered.

"Bring him back now, Chad.'*

Chad, his anger turned cold and hard, sauntered to the horses and took from his mount the bullwhip Edmund insisted they carry wherever they went. He glanced at the soft earth, noting the direction Adam had taken. He felt no need to hurry.

Adam .didn't dare stop to untie himself. He thought only of putting distance between himself and Revanche. He didn't see or hear Chad step quietly onto the path behind him. With the first curl of the bullwhip, Chad wrapped the eighteen-foot black coil around Adam's waist, jerking back, bringing Adam down hard and flat on his back.

"You disappoint me. Captain. You were hardly any sport at all. Edmund led me to expect far more pleasure from you."

Adam groaned, shaking his head groggily as he struggled to regain his breath. Above him loomed Chad's broad, unfeeling face. Deftly he released the whip from Adam's midriff and began delicately flicking the tip down his naked torso, each painful bite drawing blood. "Get up, Captain. This time perhaps you'll be wise enough to obey me."

Adam didn't move. "Carry me if you want me."

"Stubbornness is foolish. It can gain you nothing." Chad took several paces backward, uncoiling the whip to its full length. The black coil sliced through the air, whistling before it bit into Adam's neck and chest. Before he could catch his breath, the whip clawed down again, slicing the trousers from his leg. Adam cried out as the whip bit again. He rolled to his stomach. The whip flayed across his back and buttocks. Chad kept the rhythm mercilessly regular and quick.

Adam's bound hands clawed the earth. "Stop! For the love of God—"

"Crawl, Captain! Crawl!"

Adam writhed on the ground as Chad worked up a sweat and rage that lent greater power to his arm. Agonized cries ripped from Adam's throat as he obeyed. Inch by painful writhing inch, he dragged himself along the spongy earth, away from the whip, back into the clearing and Edmund Revanche.

"Enough, Chad! Leave something for our beauties." Edmund looked around the area. "Tie him to that sapling. Josiah, bring the beehive."

Claudine and Angela knelt on the bed, peering out the window. Claudine wild with fright, stared at Adam's bloodied body.

"Who are they? What do they want?" Angela clung to Claudine.

Claudine began to tremble, her eyes showing white, her teeth clamped together. She pulled away.

"Claudine! What are you doing?" Angela wrapped her arms around the small black girl. "No! No, you can't go out there! I won't let you. They'll see us! They'll know we're here!"

"Leggo o' me! Ah's gwine he'p him!"

"Let him take care of himself! You know what theyTl do to us! Listen to me, Claudine. Listen! Adam was going to leave us alone. He ran away, into the swamp. He didn't care about us—"

"Lemme go! Ah doan care what he done. Dey's hurtin* him!"

Josiah placed a large box hive and a package of clothing near Edmund, Sweat poured down his face and body, staining his olive green frock coat black under the arms. "We don' have—have to do this. We done enough, E'mun'. please, please, for God's sake, please!"

Edmund donned the beekeeper's suit over his black clothing. On his head he placed a hood with a black tulle veil.

Adam watched in horror as the three men rapidly became unrecognizable. He struggled uselessly against his bonds, but fear was now coursing through him, and common sense gone. Nearly paralyzed, he watched Edmund Revanche calmly don a mask as he had done years before in preparation for committing murder.

Adam choked, gagging as he strained against the leather strap Chad had affixed around his neck and the sapling.

Around his waist was another strap. His legs were bound with rope. His arms were free, but his hands were tied together in front of him.

Of the three, only Josiah had not yet donned the long, heavy drill canvas bee gloves. Reluctantly, his eyes darting nervously from Adam to Revanche, Josiah picked up a small pail and paintbrush and began to daub sugarcane liquor on Adam's body. The sticky sweet substance mingled and coagulated with the blood that oozed from the lacerations of the whip.

"I'm sorry . . . sorry. Don't want . . ." Tears streamed down Josiah's face under the black tulle, the back of his hand frequently sliding under the mask to smear across his nose. He blubbered excuses as he continued to coat Adam with the liquor that would attract the bees. "God forgive. I didn't want to. So sorry . . . sorry."

Josiah dropped the empty pail and scurried back to Edmund, still sobbing. He pulled on the heavy gloves and stood by Chad waiting for Edmund to loose the bees.

Edmund's face was all but obscured by the heavy veiling. "Put your hands out in front of you, Captain Tremain."

Adam looked at him, his jaw clenched tight in a futile attempt to still his fear.

"Come now, Captain. I'm only going to free your hands.** Edmund pulled Adam's hands forward, then sliced through the rope. Immediately Adam grasped the leather thongs tied around his neck, trying to free himself.

Edmund shrugged. "I dislike taking undue advantage of you, so I shall give you some valuable advice. Bees do not like motion. Don't swat at them or try to fend them off. Test your mettle, Captain Tremain. Stay calm and motionless. Allow them to crawl over you. They will sting only in defense of their hive or themselves. One sting and they die, so they sting only when necessary." Edmund bowed mockingly.

Sweating, his fingers numb and trembling, Adam picked at his thongs.

The beehive had been sealed for the two days that Edmund had been traveling. That alone was enough to excite the bees. Leisurely, Edmund poked about the clearing until he spotted Tom's ax. He moved the hive to within fifteen feet of Adam. He picked up the ax, delicately testing its balance. Lightly he struck the hive. A humming arose, fearsome, belligerent, menacing.

Edmund waited, veiled head turned to the other masked figures, one standing in expectant stillness, the other fidgeting uneasily. "I shouldn't try to run, Josiah," he warned. "After all you might be our next victim.*'

Josiah's voice was a whimper. "No . . . oh, please. Jes* git it over—*'

Edmund smiled into Adam's terrified face. "Josiah is such a coward," he said regretfully. With the butt of the ax he knocked sharply on the hive. The humming increased. "But I'm sure you can set him an unparalleled example of courage. Can't you, Captain?"

Adam, his jaws clenching, glared at Edmund. But his gaze fell to the box with its angry voice as Edmund took a workmanlike hold on the ax and began slowly to chip at the hive.

Tap. Tap, Bits of wood flew. The axe took on a life of its own, raging and vengeful, the strokes more forceful until the hive splintered.

A dark ribbon of angry buzzing bees streamed endlessly from the damaged hive, spiraling up to blacken the bright blue of the sky and then curling into a descent. Edmund was motionless as the bees streamed toward him, toward Chad and Josiah. Josiah, panicking as the bees covered his protective clothing, ran screaming in ragged circles.

Adam stood bound against the sapling, his hands pressed tightly against his face. In seconds he felt the first bees light. Their bodies swarmed over his skin, the touch of their feet ghostly. Their buzzing, vibrating, trembling sounds were everywhere. Sweat poured from him and ran down his body to mix with the sticky cane juice.

A bee stung his lip. Then another stung his neck, his ear, his shoulder. The scent of the stings left behind excited the other bees. The signal went through them.

He was stung in several places at once, each sting a separate pain, each pain demanding attention. Adam lost count, lost knowledge. The stings and the pain were everywhere. They were in his ears, inside his trousers. The milling, crawling, stinging insects covered his belly. The brown-striped bodies moved and buzzed over his face, his head, his back.

Unable to remain still, he screamed as the pain became agony. Involuntarily he began to flail. In spite of himself, he clawed at the bees. Yet they came on, thicker than before. One would sting and fall away, to be replaced by

two others until he knew nothing but pain. The maddened insects crept into his nostrils. Akeady his eyes were sealed shut. He screamed hoarsely, and in closing his mouth his teeth squashed the buzzing demons. He dug at himself, no longer aware of the bees, only wanting to destroy his own agonized flesh. His hands crushed the bees, driving them against him.

Claudine burst from the cabin, a long butcher knife in her hand. The bees came, swarming around her, darting in angrily to sting her. Claudine ran for Adam, shrieking and slapping bees clmging to her. Adam, still screaming in horror, was concealed by the insanely buzzing, moving mass.

She swept at the front of him, wiping clear long patches that were covered again immediately. She sawed at the thong that held his head fast to the sapling. She screamed, shivering and cr5ring as the pain of the stings crescendoed, wrapping her in mindless agony. But she kept on, her fingers cut and bleeding where she slashed herself with the knife as she hacked through the leather straps.

As the strap around his neck gave way, Adam curled forward, his and Claudine's voices agonized whines. She finally severed the strap holding his waist, and he slumped to the ground, his ankles still bound to the tree. Claudine wiped frantically, trying to get the bees off him. Her sight and strength failing, she flung herself on him, protecting him with her own body.

In another part of the swamp Tom Eierson swore. "Seth, where in hell did those bastards get to? I thought sure we had 'em treed."

"Mebbe so, but we am't got 'em treed now."

"What's the fun in tearin' up little piddly-assed saltworks? We got a bunch o' amateurs that don't have the guts to smash up somethin' big?"

"Ah, ye be squanderin' yere substance," a husky female voice declared. "Oi'll be a-leavin' ye."

"Would it be too big a favor to go by the cabin, Johnnie Mae? Adam ought to be there by now. Tell him I won't make it 'til dark."

Johnnie Mae smiled. It had been a long time since she'd pleasured her eyes on Adam. "Aye. Oi'll that." She shoved off, poling her flatboat with casual expertise.