Sword in Sheath

by Andre Norton

  “Come aboard!” was van Bleeker’s counter.

  Kane recognized in the first man to board the second son of Abdul Hakroun. The Moro gazed around him at crew, ship, and passengers with polite interest, but beyond the greeting demanded by island ceremony, he did not speak until the captain invited him into the cabin.

  “You have been here long?” Kuran waved aside the proffered glass of refreshment.

  “Long enough —” the captain parried.

  “Long enough for trouble to find you?” Kuran’s brown eyes rested for a moment on the bandage, plainly outlined beneath Kane’s thin shirt. “You discovered thorns in the jungle?”

  “Were you expecting to find thorns there?” Lorens asked. “Perhaps they were planted by —”

  The Moro laughed, a sharp bark of sound which had a sting in it. “My honored father is much interested in thorns and islands. Since the infirmities of age bind him to the cabin of the Drinker, he begs your indulgence and asks that you visit him, so that we may discuss thorns — and other things — at leisure.”

  “Has he been thorn-pricked also?” Lorens asked.

  But van Bleeker was annoyed. “The lagoon is wide enough for both the Sumba and the schooner. Why don’t you bring her in?”

  For a long moment Kuran’s silent will battled the stubbornness of the Dutchman. Then the Moro arose with a little inclination of his head.

  “I will make your suggestion to my honored father. It will be for him to then decide.”

  Van Bleeker snorted as he watched the boat draw away from the Sumba and head for the schooner.

  “Wanted to get us on his home ground, did he? Well, two can play at any game that old devil thinks up. Now, Fortnight, tell us quickly what you saw ashore. If we have information Hakroun wants, we shall have the best of any bargain he tries to make. Who are these cave men and what are they doing here?”

  “Some are white men or natives dressed as whites and some Japanese. There are natives, too, but not many. They live in the five caves highest in the cliff, and the approach to each is well defined. Nothing but a real expeditionary force can pull them out of there.”

  “The map — “Van Bleeker waved them back to the cabin and brought out the map Lorens had sketched. “Show us on here —”

  “There, there, and there.” Fortnight pointed out the fortifed caves. “And here is the path up the mountain, easy to climb. It ends here in the crater behind the large spur of rock to the west of the temple entrance. But I was followed up there, and they will be waiting now for anyone who tries to use it.”

  “Are the white men Nazis?” asked Lorens.

  “I cannot be sure of anything save that maybe they are white. There are only a few of them — maybe five or six — and they seem to stay together in this topmost cave. I do not think that they are entirely happy with their Japanese companions. One of them tried to urge on the Japs to follow me, but he had little success. Maybe because I had already made two very lucky shots.” The Samoan grinned happily.

  “Where there is one trail there may be another,” the captain mused. “I say we should try the mountain again. It is easy enough for a sniper to work in the jungle — but there is cover for us on the mountain.”

  “It comes back,” Kane pointed out wearily, “to the old problem of how we are going to get into the crater without being ambushed. That one stretch of trail where the climb is so tough cannot be done without cover — and there’s none of that. Unless we can bypass that, such a climb would be suicide.”

  “Captain, the schooner is coming in,” Felder reported quietly.

  They were all on deck to watch the Drinker of the Wind come into position smartly, and across the water the roar of her anchor chain paying out came to their ears.

  There was a flurry of activity on the schooner’s deck, a coming and going of long-robed personages. Suddenly the Dutch captain sucked in his breath sharply and turned to shout down the deck.

  “You — Karma and Yee — rig a bosun’s chair and make it quick — to starboard!

  “It’s the old devil himself.” The captain turned back to his passengers. “Abdul’s coming to call!”

  “What!” Lorens pushed against the rail.

  A ship’s boat crept out from the schooner. She was loaded, even overloaded, with a motley crew of natives, all of whom seemed to be armed with the very latest in rifles or sub-machine guns. Gun smuggling, Kane thought to himself, must be a very good business hereabout. Surely Hakroun had never gained all those by any legitimate means.

  As the boat nosed against the Sumba’s side the mass of retainers and henchmen swarmed up. Four of them elbowed away the seamen of the Dutch ship and took over the lowering of the bosun’s chair for the convenience of their leader. And so quick were they about the business that van Bleeker and the others had just time to reach the lower deck as the found green dome of their unbidden guest’s turban arose above the rail.

  The sonorous phrases of greeting rolled through the air and van Bleeker ordered that cushions be spred in the shade beneath an awning strip. So there they settled down cross-legged, Abdul, with his fighting men at his back and van Bleeker, Lorens, the two Americans and the ever silent mate, across from them. Those members of the Sumba’s crew who could find or invent a reason began to drift on deck and squat down within listening distance. Kane glanced around. The meeting had taken on the air of a peace conference between rival powers. Which was just what it was in truth.

  For once Abdul Hakroun came to the point swiftly and cleanly — a kris cutting butter.

  “You have had trouble with them.” Native fashion he pointed to the island with his chin.

  “Some.” Van Bleeker was wary. “We were fired upon when we tried to explore.”

  “You are lucky that it was no worse.” The old Moro’s fingers were in his beard. “Those are desperate men who hide yonder. They are without hope and when Allah — may His Name be ever exalted — takes from a man his hope there is nothing left. My countrymen run ‘amok’ as you say of them. These men do that now — their hands are raised against the whole world. They are as mad dogs and must be put to the sword —”

  “How do you know so much about them?” the captain asked.

  The hand in the fringe of beard was still, but the hooded eyes did not blink.

  “I had a trading post here, and these wild beasts destroyed it. When word of that disaster was brought to me I came — to measure justice. If the cloak of my protection covers a man, then I exact vengence for him. There has been blood shed here — blood of those of my household. I come to uphold my honor!”

  “And what do you want of us?”

  Both ivory hands came out of the beard. “Blood of your men has been shed also. We have a common cause. Shall we not wield then a common sword? This cancer has become a stench through the islands; it is time to burn it out!”

  15

  VOICE FROM THE NIGHT

  When van Bleeker made no immediate answer to the amazing proposition of Abdul Hakroun, the old man spoke again, a sort of dry amusement coloring his rich voice.

  “I am now a wizard of gifts,” he announced with mocking solemnity, “for I can read your present thoughts, Captain. They are these — Why does this Hakroun wish to make terms with me? What lies hidden on this island which he is so determined to gain that he must treat with the men of the Sumba to get it?

  “And there you have your answer, Tuan Captain. There is a treasure here for the finding. Oh, it is not the pearl beds which you must already have located, being neither stupid men nor those unfortunates from whom Allah, in His Infinite Wisdom, removed the power of sight.

  “Some weeks ago a Japanese, calling himself a trader, came to Manado in quest of passage north to his own land. During some converse with him an agent of mine discovered that he was a messenger from this very island. It was from his hands that my agent had that Nararatna which you, Tuan van Norreys, were so very loath to buy. May I be permitted to ask why — it was a famous bargain?”
>
  Those bright eyes shifted to Lorens, and the young Netherlander half smiled.

  “It was too great a bargain —”

  Abdul Hakroun gave a clicking sound of annoyance. “I am indeed growing old when the suckling babes of the trade suspect my intentions. But that Nararatna came from here, of that I have sufficient proof. And where one wonder is found, a keen-nosed man may perhaps sniff out another. So we have pearls and a treasure. Is that not lure enough to pull any man hither?”

  “Pearls, treasure and a trading post,” van Bleeker reminded him.

  “A looted trading post.” The correction was quick. “Yes, there is also the matter of vengence and the settling of scores with the rabble hiding here. They are of that sort for which you Americans and Dutch have been hunting the world over during the past few years, Nazis and Japanese turned pirates — for that is just what they have become. Here is the source, the home port, of those two pirate praus which have been ranging the southern waters. It is the task set us by Allah to cleanse this place with fire and sword. I had thought to do it alone with my own men, but, since you have found your way here, it is cearly the will of Allah that part of the battle be yours. Also” — the laughter in the old voice bubbled very near the surface — “you are strong men, well armed with the latest weapons. This being so, who am I to stand against the wishes of the Devisor of Destinies? Shall we be allies?”

  “Allies or friends?” Lorens brought the challenge into the open. “There are many allies who unite only for one stroke against a common enemy and then are at each other’s throats again when that fight is over. We have no liking for that —”

  Hakroun considered before he answered. “Let it be as friends. I perceive that there is a reason in this, that from the first it was meant to happen so. Join me as friends!”

  The green-turbaned head was proundly high, the eyes shone as they flicked from face to face of the men facing him. Lord, Kane thought, he’s it — the big man! When he gives an order it’s obeyed without question! He and Iron-jaw — wouldn’t they make a perfect team now? Why — I like the guy!

  “Agreed.” Van Bleeker’s hand went out to engulf the frail claws the other advanced.

  “Now.” There was no hint of triumph in Hakroun’s attitude. He was the businessman getting down to serious work. “Let us plan. We must move before the two praus now cruising return —”

  “Praus, you say?”

  “Yes. They attack only the smaller native vessels, those which they know can be taken. I have lost ten such within the past six months — and I am not the only one who has suffered. But with both those ships at sea the force they have here must be a small one. We can smoke them out —”

  “What about the sub?” Kane ventured his first question. “If they can use her we’ll have trouble.”

  “Sub?” The old Moro looked to van Bleeker for enlightenment, and the captain of the Sumba told of Bridger’s find.

  “I think,” he concluded, “that they must be out of fuel. Certainly they wouldn’t take to praus if they could use it —”

  “So-o —” The word was a hiss as Hakroun spoke it. “That is where they obtained the deck gun they carry on the prau which attacked the Red Fish! Where is this sunken ship?”

  He made a little gesture, and his son pulled from his sleeve a rolled chart which, when spread out on the flat space of deck planking before Hakroun, proved to be a surprisingly accurate map of the island and surrounding waters. Lorens compared it to the sketch map and pointed out their own observations.

  Hakroun had the added advantage of knowing the western side of the island, the cave land. For it had been on a northern finger of that territory that his destroyed trading post had stood. It had not been a real trading post but more of a headquarters for those working the pearling beds.

  As far as the Moro trader knew, the handful of timid natives whom his men had found on the island were without any products to trade, and Hakroun’s men had not been able to establish any real contact with them in the few weeks which had elapsed between the first settlement of pearl divers and the coming of a strong party of Japanese holdout troops fleeing from the wrath in the lower islands. A night of sharp fighting had settled the argument as to the ownership of the island, and the survivors of Hakroun’s forces had fled.

  “It was only by chance that my men ever found this land in the first place,” Abdul stated frankly. “It is not on any map these old eyes have ever seen. I do not think that even the Japanese, island wise as they made themselves in the past few years, knew it before they came. And of this city or temple in the mountain — of that I know nothing at all — though the Nararatna pointed to the probability of such a place. The natives are but a handful. They have been here a long, long time, and now they die out, after the manner of ancient peoples cut off from the world. They were very shy and would not approach my men. At times we left some trade goods on the rocks for them — it was best to have their good will, you understand. But they did not come for it while any man watched. My people saw them only as shadows. Why should we hunt them down? We have no use for the island; it was the pearls which drew us first, and those are in the sea. So we troubled them not. Doubtless the Japanese have long since put an end to them, as they did with other simple peoples.

  “As for your bomber, and those who salvaged her, of that I have no knowledge either. My men saw no Europeans here before they were driven away. Perhaps that was the work of these pirates also.”

  “You’d think,” Kane said suddenly, “that if these fellows had praus and could get away, they’d go, strike out for the mainland. They could land in Siam or the Malay states or even Java — things have been so disorganized down there since the war that they could easily hide out and never be found.”

  “Why should they?” countered Lorens. “They are the conquered and know that their world has been swept away. Here they have a measure of security and can keep alive the legend of the invincible supermen. If they had not had the ill luck to enounter your men” — he nodded courteously to Hakroun — “they might have remained here — maybe for years — without being hunted down.”

  “That is the truth,” agreed the Moro, “but to it add another rumor which has been carried to these old ears. There are those in the islands for whom the struggle for power has just begun, who are being supported from afar. They are quick to seize upon opportunity and to enlist masterless men. Such a colony as this one is a tool ready to their ultimate purpose. A man’s coat and allegiance are easily changed when his belly is empty, his leaders dead, and naught but death before him. A handful of supplies, shadowy encouragement, and the hope of a better future will bring even these wolves to heel — ”

  “The same old story,” muttered Sam. “Here we go again — ”

  “If they are practicing pirates,” Kane pointed out, “there probably is a treasure hoard here.”

  Hakroun was tracing the coast line on the map and listening to van Bleeker’s arguments about the desirability of discovering a back door into the cave territory. When the Dutch captain had finished the Moro clapped his hands and called, “Mahaud!”

  Out of the company of armed-to-the-teeth warriors who lounged behind him crawled an odd little person, a scarlet rag serving him for a turban and another of bright yellow for a loin cloth. He nursed in his crooked arm, against the misshapen barrel of his chest, a bolo almost as long as his stunted body.

  “Could Mahuad take this path of the apes which you have spoke of?” Abdul asked Kane.

  The dwarfish figure was certainly not much taller than the black apes who had found and made their own the side entrance to the temple.

  “I think so,” the American replied. “But he would have to reach the crater before he tried it, and there are several places along the way where they could easily ambush him. The climb is a difficult one.”

  “It is as Allah wills,” was Hakroun’s pious rejoinder. “I shall send a man ashore — one who was here before and knows the island. We shall learn mo
re of their defenses —”

  So ended the conference aboard the Sumba, without really deciding anything, Sam pointed out — the usual result when the big brass gets together.

  “Anyway our mission,” the Nisei concluded, “is to find out about that bomber. Let’s don’t get drawn into a private war and forget all about it. Abdul is fighting for that pearl bed and, I’ll bet, for any loot these Nazis and Japs have managed to snaffle and pile up here. Van Bleeker can’t lose out either. If he backs up Abdul and they win, the old boy will have to cut him in on both deals. That goes for your friend van Norreys too. But us, we won’t be in on that. The bomber’s our job. Don’t forget that we bought that dollar from a Jap —”

  “I’m not forgetting it, nor the bomber either. Only you heard what Hakroun said. His men were here months ago and saw no white men — before the killers came.”

  “And what’ll you wager that they didn’t look very hard? They didn’t have much contact with the natives. And suppose our fellows were hurt, maybe out of their heads or down with malaria. They might not even have known about Hakroun’s men being here. I’ve a hunch that we’ve come to the right place —”

  “All right, all right!” Kane put his hand on the cabin latch. “In the meantime I’m going to have me a nap. I’m the wounded hero — remember?”

  But Sam trailed along into the cabin and fidgeted around while Kane spread himself across the lower bunk. The Nisei was examining the smooth expanse of sheet and pillow of his own sleeping place when Kane glanced up.

  “Lose something?”

  “Where’s that darn cat? First time since we sailed that she hasn’t been enjoying herself at our expense — you’d think she was paying for this cabin.”

  The cat!

  “Good lord!” Kane lifted his head from the pillow with a snap. “Bridger will have my hide for sure.”

  Sam regarded him with interest. “What did you do — pitch her overboard?”

  “No. But she went on our little exploring party this morning. Crawled over me so she could hit the beach before we did. And I don’t think I’ve seen her since.”