This, Ethan thought, would be the first time he would use the deadly Carib weapon against a living target, and he knew there was no margin for error. If he failed, his intended victim's shout would bring a full company of heavily armed troops to the scene. Poda, his eyes blacker than ever as he looked at the arrogant members of the army that had once held him in bondage, lifted his blowgun to his lips, pulled himself to one elbow and took a deep breath. Ethan did the same, and at almost the same instant their arrows cut silently through the night.
Poda's aim was perfect, and he caught the farther of the soldiers at the corner of an eye; Ethan, less experienced, barely managed to strike his man, but his arrow nicked the sentry's chin, and that was sufficient. Both soldiers fell to the ground, writhing in silent agony. The instant they dropped the Caribs were in motion, and even before the sentries died the Indians were at the wall. In a few seconds Poda was hoisted to the top; playing out his grass rope behind him, he dropped soundlessly to the far side, and two more of the party quickly followed him. Then it was Ethan's turn, for there were enough men at the other end of the rope now to help support the burden of his greater weight. He pulled himself to the top of the wall and saw that Poda was standing guard while the other two held the rope; then he jumped to the ground, and once again he was inside the domain of Marinus Boline.
Lights were burning in several of the buildings, but no soldiers appeared in the open and the remainder of the Carib scaled the wall without incident. Ethan oriented himself quickly, and pointed in the direction of the prison. Then, with Poda at his side, he started off toward the building at a trot, with the others following in pairs at eight-foot intervals. The grounds were spacious, but the "palace" was a sprawling structure, and the houses that flanked it consequently extended to within a few feet of the outer wall. As a result Ethan and Poda had to crowd close to the building which Melanie had described as that which housed the civilian officials of Boline's realm. Their progress was further impeded by a decorative hedge, three feet high, which had been laid out in a symmetrical pattern that was pleasing to the eye but that forced the intruders to follow a zigzag course.
As Ethan and Poda came to the comer of the house and were about to strike out across the open yard again, two sentries, muskets on their shoulders, suddenly rounded the turn of the building. The face-to-face collision momentarily stunned all four, but Ethan and Poda recovered first. The Carib had his blow-gun ready, and before the startled soldier in front of him could move, he used it. Ethan, who was more accustomed to direct combat, leaped forward, his knife held high in his right hand. He brought it down with all of his strength. The sentry-began to cry out, but the first sound that he made was his last, and his attempted shout started and ended as a faint, gutteral noise in the back of his throat.
Without wasting a single precious second he drew his blade from his victim's body and dragged the man into the bushes. Poda, grinning approvingly, did the same with the sentry he had killed. Then they trotted out into the open, beyond the protective shadows of the house. The concealment of the dead soldiers was at best crude, but a casual passerby might not see them, and Ethan could only hope that he and Poda had gained a little time.
They broke into a run and dashed the hundred yards or more toward the little prison, which was dwarfed by the two-story barracks of the Imperial guard beside it. Ethan was dimly aware that a scuffle was taking place somewhere behind him, but he neither paused nor turned around. His warriors could take care of themselves, and as no alarm was raised, he assumed that the threat, whatever it had been, no longer existed.
The prison was a stone structure, approximately fifty feet long, and the wall to which Ethan and Poda dashed was solid, without windows or openings of any kind. They flattened themselves against it and started to edge toward a comer as the remainder of the party joined them. Ethan halted long enough to indicate by a series of short, sharp gestures that the Caribs were to remain where they stood. Scores of soldiers were in the barracks, and if the braves should expose themselves on the opposite side of the prison, they would surely be seen from one of the windows of the larger building.
Cautiously, slowly, Ethan peered around the comer, then motioned to Poda. Two sentries stood before the entrance to the prison, their muskets across their chests as they held themselves rigidly erect and stared stonily out into space. Obviously it had not occurred to them that an enemy could penetrate this far into the compound, and Ethan, who knew the minds of soldiers, was certain that these men considered their present duty to be more ceremonial than useful.
The nearer of the guards presented a perfect target, but the other, who stood some five feet from him, would be more difficult to reach. Ethan tried to work out some method whereby both could be attacked simultaneously. He could not send any of his men around the whole prison, as they would be seen when they came near to the barracks on the opposite side. And he briefly pondered the advisability of ordering two of his braves to cross the roof on their stomachs.
Poda knew nothing of the thoughts in his friend's mind, however, and before Ethan could stop him he sent a poisoned arrow flying into the nearer man's neck. The sentry fell, but his companion, unaware that tragedy had struck, continued to stand at attention, and Ethan seeing him clearly for the first time, was astonished. Poda fitted another arrow into his gun, but Ethan recovered from his amazement just in time to hold out a restraining hand. Then, before the Carib could stop him, he ran toward the man at the door, keeping himself close to the wall.
"Jed!" he called softly.
Jed Moulton turned, and for an instant he was too startled to move or speak. He saw his fellow sentry on the ground, then he made out the figure of a tall Indian coming toward him. He started to raise his musket, but let the butt drop to the ground when the native called to him again. "Jed!"
"My God! Ethan!" the former clerk whispered. Then he saw a little Carib at Ethan's heels, and felt sure he was dreaming. "Poda!"
There was no time for explanations or unnecessary conversation. "Where is she?" Ethan asked.
"Second room down a little corridor." Jed said.
"How many guards are in there?"
"Three. Two sentries and a lieutenant. The officer is right inside the entrance at a desk. The sentries are at Mistress Prudence's door. One of them is Dave Stanley—you remember Dave. We were given this assignment because we could speak English, like she does. Dave will be all right—if I can warn him." Jed's excitement was intense, but he kept his head.
"We'll take care of the lieutenant first." Ethan's mind was functioning as it did in a battle, clearly and sharply. "Go and distract his attention, Jed. It doesn't matter what you say to him, but make sure he turns his back to the door."
Poda understood enough English to grasp the essentials, and he nodded approvingly. Jed shouldered his musket and pushed open the thick door of plated iron. "Sir," he said loudly, "I've got to talk to you for a minute."
In spite of the terrible tension, Ethan grinned when he heard the officer's irritable reply. "What the devil are you doing in here, Moulton ? You've deserted your post!"
"I haven't exactly deserted it, sir." Jed's voice was glib and soothing. "You see, there's something I've got to explain to you."
"Stop moving around the room!" the lieutenant shouted, thoroughly annoyed. "If you haven't yet learned that you're never to contradict a superior, I'll send you back to the slave pens! And stand still!"
Ethan peered through the opening, and saw that Jed was doing his work thoroughly. He had strolled to the far end of the entrance chamber; the lieutenant, in order to see him, had been forced to twist around in his chair and now sat with his back to the door. Drawing the strand of tringo from his belt, Ethan moved silently into the house as Jed poured out a stream of gibberish to the angry officer.
"It's like this, sir. I wasn't feeling so good, and I thought I'd better come and tell you about it. It's not bad enough, this pain of mine, for me to ask for relief from duty or anything like that. But I f
igured you'd want to know, and—"
He broke off as Ethan slipped the wiry weed down over the officer's head and drew it taut around his throat. The lieutenant, caught completely off guard, tried to fight back against his unseen assailant, but his struggle was brief. He clutched at his throat, but it was impossible for him to tear away the slippery string that was choking him; within a few seconds his wild thrashing subsided, and a low, strangled sound escaped from his lips as he slumped down in his chair.
Heavy, running footsteps sounded in the corridor that led to the rear of the building, and before Ethan could straighten, a burly, dark-bearded soldier—apparently the man who was sharing sentry duty with David Stanley outside Prudence's door—burst into the room. He took in the situation in a glance, and unhesitatingly hurled himself at Ethan, his musket grasped like a club. The butt grazed against the side of Ethan's head, and at almost the same instant the guard smashed into him and they rolled to the floor together, arms and legs flailing.
Poda could not intervene without hurting Ethan, and Jed, of course, could not fire his musket without arousing the entire garrison. For the moment, at least, Ethan had to fight his opponent alone. The soldier was abnormally strong, and his right fist, smashing against Ethan's cheekbone, would have stunned a foe who did not have so much at stake. Ethan struck back furiously, locked his legs around the soldier's middle, squeezed with all his might and then suddenly jerked the man half-upright. As they rolled over again, Ethan, landing on top, closed his hands around the sentry's throat and squeezed with every ounce of his strength, ignoring the blows being rained on his head and shoulders.
"Get Prue," he gasped, and Jed darted out of the room.
In the meantime Poda, who had drawn his knife, saw his chance to enter the fight. Approaching cautiously, he bent down and drove the blade deep into the soldier's side. The man moaned as his life ebbed away. Ethan regained his feet, leaned against the desk to steady himself and gratefully breathed in large quantities of air.
He was still standing there a second or two later when Jed and Stanley appeared from the corridor, but Ethan did not see them; he had eyes only for the girl who was behind them. For a moment he could scarcely believe that the gaudy, shockingly dressed wench with a black mantilla over her head was Prudence. Her heavily rouged lips were unrecognizable, but her eyes could be those of no one else, in spite of the paint on her lashes and lids.
She mouthed the single word, "Ethan," but made no sound, and she looked as though she would faint.
"Prue," he said, swallowed hard and then spoke rapidly. "My friends and I are going to try to get you out of here. Obey every order that I give you—instantly." He turned to young Stanley. "Dave, you and Jed will come with us, I hope."
"Just try to stop us," Stanley said, and grinned.
"Good. Poda, tell the Caribs not to attack the two soldiers who will walk with the lady as though she is their prisoner. Jed, you and Dave take Prue between you. Walk straight to the near side of the civilians building, follow it around past the 'palace,' and then turn sharp right to the outer wall. I£ you're stopped, don't try to fight. Just talk, and say anything that sounds logical. We'll be close behind you, and we'll take care of any trouble that develops. Look as though you're under official orders, and under no circumstances try to run or do anything out of the ordinary. Prue will be conspicuous enough as it is. Everybody ready ?"
The men nodded, and Poda darted out to inform the braves of the plan. Although every second counted, Ethan could not resist the temptation to take Prudence into his arms and kiss her; if anything went wrong now, he would never have another opportunity to touch her. He took a step toward her and reached out his hands, but she avoided him and would not look at him. This was not the time to let himself feel hurt or to dwell on her slight, however, and he gestured toward the door.
"Let's go," he said curtly.
Jed and Stanley shouldered their muskets, and with Prudence between them, they stepped out into the night. Ethan allowed them to gain a lead of a few paces, then he crept behind them. As they crossed the yard to the comparative safety of the shadows and hedge of the civilians' building, Poda joined him. The other warriors were not far behind, and Ethan was sure that the rear was as secure as it could be. Even if some of Boline's men moved in from that direction, it might be possible to take Prudence out of the compound before a real alert could be sounded, and Ethan knew he could count on his braves.
The pace that Jed and David were setting was a trifle too fast, but Ethan did not dare call out to them, and he breathed a sigh of relief when the narrow path that encircled the civilians' house forced them to slow down.
Again there were sounds of a fight somewhere to the rear, but there was no shout, no musket shot, and Ethan knew that the warriors had disposed of another pair of sentries. In another three minutes, he told himself, they would be out of the compound, and his spirits soared at the prospect.
But at that instant Poda touched his arm, and he saw a dark shape loom up before Jed and David, who leaped to attention and raised their muskets in salute. Prudence, he could tell, had stiffened, too, and he inched forward, his hand groping for his blowgun. Someone of importance had definitely seen the two sentries and the girl, and had stopped them.
"Be good enough to inform me of the meaning of this," a cold, vaguely familiar voice said in French.
"We don't know, sir," Stanley replied in the same language. "We're merely following orders."
Poda, not understanding a word of what was being said, looked inquiringly at Ethan. The only possible response was to press still closer to the ground. Ethan fitted an arrow into his blowgun.
"And what are those orders?" the official demanded.
"They're confidential, sir." There was a definite undercurrent of uneasiness in Stanley's voice.
Ethan stopped short as he recognized the dapper figure of Jacques Gomez. He realized that Gomez had been in large part responsible for Prudence's presence in Dominica, but he also remembered that Gomez had once saved his life, and so he felt that he owed the man something. In addition, as Gomez was so clever, he would probably respond to reason rather than make them use force.
"I say there's something highly irregular going on," the West Indian declared to Stanley and Jed, while Prudence stood very still. "This charming trollop is to be given as a gift to His Imperial Majesty tomorrow night. And no one has the right to take her out of her cell until then. Show me your orders!"
Ethan moved quickly forward and called out in a low voice. "Gomez!"
The bland face that rarely showed a reaction was a picture of utter astonishment. "My God! Ethan Wade!"
"Forget that you've seen any of us, and no harm will come to you," Ethan said rapidly. "Go on about your business, and we'll consider the score between us even."
"You're mad," Gomez declared in a strident tone. "Do you think you can pit yourself against the Imperial power and not be made to suffer?" He caught hold of Ethan's arm and spoke still more loudly. "I command you to surrender at once!"
They grappled, and Ethan spoke over the smaller man's shoulder to Prudence and her escorts. "Move on!"
Jacques Gomez, seeing his careful scheme to win new favor for himself from Marinus Boline about to dissolve before his eyes, opened his mouth to shout. But no sound emerged from his lips. Poda, who had been all but forgotten as he had remained in the shadows, took aim with his bamboo blowgun, and his poisoned arrow found its mark in a vein that stood out at Gomez' left temple.
Gomez died, and Prudence was so horrified by his expression as he crumpled to the ground at her feet that she inadvertently screamed. She immediately covered her mouth with her hand, but the damage was done.
"Run!" Ethan said sharply.
The others obeyed and started at once for the wall; meanwhile the Caribs, making no further attempt to conceal themselves, sprinted ahead of them. A warrior was already at the top by the time Prudence, whose high heels hampered her speed, arrived at the base, and Ethan quickly orga
nized a defense. The first brave was over the wall, and his companions began to follow him, while Ethan and Poda stood guard with their blowguns.
"The girl next," Ethan said to his warriors, and Prudence was hoisted up and over the wall. "Now you, Jed. And then Dave."
They would have objected, but he gave them no chance, and he turned away as a fresh pair of guards, aroused by the sound of the scream, approached from a walk between the civilians' building and the 'palace.' The blowguns of Ethan and Poda went into immediate action, and while Ethan's arrow struck home, the Indian missed his target. And a second later the quiet of the night was shattered by the roar of the survivor's musket.
"Take charge on the other side," Ethan commanded, and Poda, violently angry with himself, climbed the wall.
Soldiers seemed to appear from every direction, and one of them, mistaking a waving tree branch for a human figure, fired at it. His mistake gave Ethan the second or two that he needed, and in the confusion that followed, he caught hold of the grass rope and pulled himself to the top of the wall. By that time the sentry who had fired the first shot had pointed at him, and a dozen or more muskets were aimed at him. As they started to fire he jumped to the ground outside.
The Caribs had picked up Prudence and were carrying her toward the jungle, with Poda resolutely remaining behind to provide cover. When he saw Ethan he smiled, and together they ran at full speed to make up the gap between them and their comrades. A pursuit was being organized, and somewhere along the wall a heavy chain was being removed from a gate. By the time the portal swung open and soldiers poured out into the open, the Indians had reached the trees. Ethan and Poda were only a few feet from the edge of the jungle when the troops opened fire on them, and they put on a final burst of speed as bullets sang out over their heads.
As they reached the edge of the jungle, Ethan called out. "Let those who carry the girl set the pace," he commanded in the Carib language. "All others will fan out behind. When the devil-men come, let your blowguns destroy them." He was obeyed instantly, and he peered through the gloom, searching for the two white men in the group. "Dave! Jed!"
Devil's Prize Page 16
