The Daughters of Eden Trilogy

by Michelle Paver

  For a moment her fear of the duppy tree was sidelined by the prospect of being told off by Papa. She wondered what to do. Of course, she could just brazen it out, and ride openly north from the crossroads: past home, past Romilly, and right down the Eden Road to town. But it would be horribly risky.

  Another idea would be to make a quick reconnaissance on foot from here to the western edge of the forest, and get a bird’s-eye view of which cane-piece Papa was burning, so that she could avoid it.

  She bit her lip. It would take her about a quarter of an hour to walk to the western edge of the forest, and poor Muffin had already been waiting long enough. But on the other hand, if it stopped her getting caught by Papa . . .

  Around her the forest was hushed and breathless, waiting to see what she would decide. The only sound was the gentle pattering of ash.

  Down on the Fever Hill Road, a clump of giant bamboo caught fire. Flames scurried up the canes like lizards. The dry leaves crackled and flared. Then the culms exploded in a deafening fusillade of rifle-shots. Ben’s big bay gelding skittered and squealed.

  ‘Shut up, Partisan,’ he said between his teeth, ‘it’s not here yet.’ But the bay had sensed his master’s tension, and sidestepped in alarm. Ben reined him in and drew out his watch. Half past four. Christ. Only half an hour since they’d first got news of the fire. It felt like hours. A blur of orders and snap decisions and hurried evacuations. Scarcely time to take it in. Cane-fire. A vast, hungry animal sweeping towards them from Waytes Valley.

  He yanked Partisan’s head round and put him into a canter up the track to the New Works. Already he could smell smoke, and he had to keep the bay on a short rein to stop the canter degenerating into a gallop. A light scattering of black ash floated down into the red dust like hellish snow. Not long now, he thought. Jesus, it travels fast.

  To his relief, the New Works were deserted, and so was the field-hands’ settlement behind it. He doubled back to the carriageway, then cantered along the track by the aqueduct to check the old slave village. That too was empty, thank God. So Neptune had finally prevailed on Grace and Evie, and got them out.

  Once again Ben cantered back to the carriageway, this time putting Partisan up the hill towards the great house. A glance over his shoulder told him that the royal palms down by the gates were already blazing like torches. It didn’t seem possible.

  The first they’d known of the fire had been a scent of burnt sugar in the air and a light sprinkling of ash. Minutes later, a panicky field-hand had clattered in from Waytes Valley on a mule. The fire was sweeping south towards them at terrifying speed. Two months of hot, dry weather had created the perfect conditions; and now a gentle breeze was wafting in from the sea, and fanning the flames steadily south and east.

  Parnassus had been caught completely unawares, and so was Fever Hill. There was no time to set a controlled fire along the Fever Hill Road, and thereby burn a firebreak to contain the blaze. No time to do the same around the New Works and Fever Hill great house. It was a question of deciding how far to retreat, and where to stand and fight.

  In the end he’d sent half his men out west to burn an east–west break to protect the cane-pieces of Glen Marnoch, and the other half to start burning a break along the Eden Road, from the edge of Greendale Wood all the way south to Romilly Bridge. He wasn’t too hopeful about saving Glen Marnoch, but if the second break held, it would at least save the eastern cane-pieces of Greendale, as well as Cameron Lawe’s land at Bullet Tree Walk.

  He’d also sent a handful of riders on all available horses to warn Isaac at Arethusa and Cameron Lawe at Eden, and to evacuate the settlements in between. Finally he’d sent a rider to Parnassus – ostensibly for more information on the fire, but really to check that Sophie was safe.

  As he’d hoped, he found the great house deserted. He’d evacuated it immediately, despatching the men to help with the firebreaks, and the women in a wagon across country. Now he checked the cookhouse, the laundry-house, the servants’ quarters. All deserted. Someone had even remembered to fling open the aviary doors and let out the birds.

  Back in the carriageway, he reined in for a last look at the house. After the months of renovation it appeared stately and serene: like an elderly lady who’d once been beautiful, and still possessed a faded elegance.

  For the first time the enormity of the fire came home to him. This house which he loved was right in its path, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to save her. This house which had been entrusted to him. This house in which a twelve-year-old Sophie had lain for months in bed, a prisoner of her illness. This house where a fourteen-year-old Ben Kelly had waited in trepidation for the mad Miss Clemmy. This house which, only a few months ago, had welcomed him back with gentle old-fashioned grace, and made him feel at home for the first time in his life. And now he was losing it.

  Far off on the Fever Hill Road, more giant bamboo went up in flames. Partisan snorted and fought the reins.

  Everything’s going up in smoke, thought Ben.

  But not quite everything, he reminded himself. At least Kate and Robbie and Lil are still all right.

  With a last look at the house, he turned and dug in his heels and cantered off towards the stables. Then, having satisfied himself that they too were deserted, he crossed the trickle of the Green River and headed east through the cane-pieces of Bellevue.

  He’d gone less than a quarter of a mile before he caught up with the ox-wagon bearing the coffins. To his horror, he saw that the wagon was tilting dangerously, with one back wheel stuck in an irrigation ditch. The four field-hands who’d been detailed to get it to safety were standing around shaking their heads.

  ‘Hey, Amos!’ he shouted as he skittered to a halt. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

  Amos looked guilty. ‘Just fixing to pull her out of the hole, Master Ben.’

  ‘So what’s stopping you?’

  ‘That fire’s running quick as black ant, Master Ben. Why, we just seen Garrick and Caesar come through here. They say that firebreak over at Alice Grove never go hold, they say the whole of Glen Marnoch go burn for sure.’

  ‘Then thank your lucky stars that you’re not in Glen Marnoch,’ snapped Ben. ‘Now forget about that and get that wheel out of the ditch!’

  Gingerly the men moved forwards and put their shoulders to the wagon. With a sinking feeling Ben realized that if he hadn’t happened along, they’d probably have abandoned the wagon and run. They were good, conscientious, hardworking men, but they were also terrified – and not only of the fire. It was asking too much of any country Jamaican to escort three coffins containing powerful, untrammelled buckra duppies.

  He bit his lip and glanced back over his shoulder. To the north he could see a vast pall of grey smoke at least a mile wide. Amos was right. The fire was scything through Alice Grove towards the house, and after that it would swallow Glen Marnoch to the west, and Bellevue here in the east.

  He glanced at the coffins on the wagon. Out here in the open they looked much smaller and more vulnerable. And with only oxen to draw the wagon, progress would be achingly slow, much slower than the fire. If they had horses, they could make it. But all the horses had been needed by the messengers. Where was he going to get any more?

  A couple of miles up ahead, he could just make out the guango tree and the giant bamboo that marked the Eden Road. ‘Right,’ he said to Amos, ‘here’s what we do. You get the wagon back on the track, no hanging about, and I’ll go and see if I can’t borrow a couple of horses from someone. Then I’ll come back and ride along with you, and we can all get to safety, quick-time.’ Without waiting for an answer he dug in his heels and put Partisan into a flat gallop along the cane-track towards the Eden Road.

  Oh, thank God. There was a carriage in the distance, coming from town. Whoever it was, they’d lend him the horses without question. An uncontrolled cane-fire threatens everyone, so everyone helps.

  But as he drew nearer, he saw to his horror that the ‘carriage’
was Miss Clemmy in her pony-trap.

  It can’t be, he told himself. She’d left for town three hours ago. He’d seen her go.

  It couldn’t be, but it was. And she was calmly trotting south down the Eden Road, heading straight for the path of the fire.

  When she recognized Ben she reined in, and politely waited for him to approach.

  ‘Miss Clemmy,’ he panted when he reached her, ‘what the hell are you doing?’

  She blinked. ‘Why, dear, I’m going to Eden—’

  ‘There’s a fire, Miss Clemmy. Can’t you see? It’ll cut off the Eden Road before you get there.’

  ‘Oh, I know that,’ she said, startling him. ‘I met a boy on a mule and he told me all about it. He said that Cameron and that nice Mr Walker’s men from Arethusa are burning a firebreak along the western edge of the road, from Romilly all the way down to—’

  ‘I know,’ he broke in impatiently. ‘I’ve sent men to help. And that’s just why you’ve got to turn round and go back. It’ll be chaos up there.’

  ‘But I won’t be taking the Eden Road,’ she insisted. ‘In about a quarter of a mile I shall turn off and take the track east through Greendale Wood, and then loop round via Bethlehem—’

  ‘Miss Clemmy—’

  ‘But I must,’ she said with surprising firmness. ‘You see, Belle has gone off on one of her secret missions into the hills, so I—’

  ‘What? Belle Lawe? Madeleine’s little girl?’

  ‘She can be so frightfully naughty! She was supposed to join Madeleine for tea at the Mordenners’ – but I think I told you that? Anyway, somehow Quaco lost sight of her on the way, and then his horse went lame, so he couldn’t go after her or even reach Madeleine to raise the alarm – he’s quite beside himself, poor lamb – and that’s when I bumped into him, on my way to the Mordenners’. Wasn’t that lucky? Of course he was wild to go after her himself, but I didn’t think he’d know where to look, so I thought I’d better go instead. So here I am.’ She looked up at him with a triumphant smile.

  Ben kneaded the point between his eyes. ‘And you think you do know where to look?’

  ‘Oh yes. She’s either gone to that cave at Turnaround – yes, dear, she did mention it to me, but I haven’t told anyone and neither has she – or to Fraser’s Burying-place on the slope at the back of the house, or to any of half a dozen other places I can think of.’ She leaned forward and added in a conspiratorial whisper, ‘Madeleine’s still with the Mordenners, and doesn’t know a thing, thank heavens. But I really do feel that I ought to go and help Sophie look.’

  ‘Sophie?’ cried Ben.

  Miss Clemmy looked worried. ‘Didn’t I mention that? I met her just after I’d bumped into Quaco. She was going into town, but of course as soon as I told her, she turned round and headed off to find Belle, so I—’

  ‘Where? Where was she heading?’

  ‘Why, to Eden, of course. I told her to go via Greendale, so—’

  ‘On horseback or in a trap?’

  ‘On that little grey mare of hers. I think she calls her Frolic?’

  ‘When? When did you see her?’

  ‘I really couldn’t say. A while ago, I think.’

  Far in the distance, another fusillade of rifle-shots split the air. More giant bamboo, but closer this time. Not the Green River already, thought Ben. From here he should be able to see Fever Hill great house in the distance, but all he could see was the vast pall of smoke. Again that twist of guilt. He’d left the old house to face the fire alone. There was nobody there to watch her burn.

  Christ, Sophie, what are you thinking? Eden on your own in the middle of a cane-fire?

  His thoughts raced. He glanced at the brave, silly woman in the pony-trap, then back over his shoulder to the cane-pieces. Far in the distance, and out of sight in the man-high cane, the ox-wagon with his brother and sisters was lumbering to safety. If the men hadn’t already abandoned it.

  No time, no time.

  Sophie was heading into the path of the fire. But surely as soon as she realized how bad it was, she’d turn round and head back to town to fetch help? Where was the sense in his going to look for her now? He’d never find her in all this chaos. And as for Belle Lawe, he could get a message to her father, and he’d be sure to find her; he wouldn’t need or want Ben Kelly getting in the way.

  He thought of Robbie and Lil and Kate, stuck out in the middle of Bellevue with the fire scything towards them. He couldn’t lose them again. Not all over again.

  And Sophie will be all right, he told himself. Besides, she’ll never dare go all the way to Eden. She can’t bring herself to go back there, she told you so herself.

  He turned to Miss Clemmy, who was waiting obediently for him to decide. ‘Miss Clemmy,’ he said, ‘you’ve got to turn round and go back to town. Right now.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No buts. Listen to me. I’ve just come from Bellevue. I’ve—’

  ‘I know, the boy on the mule told me. You’re getting your brother and sisters to safety.’

  He licked his lips. Then something behind her caught his eye, and he froze. Thank God. About a quarter of a mile down the road, a cartload of field-hands was coming from Prospect – no doubt to help with the firebreaks. He turned back to Miss Clemmy. ‘The thing is, I’ve got to ride back to the ox-wagon, or the men will abandon it. So I need you to promise me that you’ll turn round and go back to town.’

  ‘But what about Belle?’

  ‘There’s a party of field-hands coming up behind you, d’you see it? I’ll ride over now and get them to unhitch their horse, and send a man up the road to Mr Lawe, quick as he can, to tell him that Belle’s gone missing.’

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he talked her down. ‘Miss Clemmy, a man on a horse will get there a whole lot faster than you ever could in your pony-trap. Now you’ve got to promise me that you’ll turn round and go back. If you don’t promise, I can’t leave you on your own and go back to my brother and sisters.’

  She gazed up at him with worried, china-blue eyes. ‘Of course I promise. But are you sure that you’re doing the right thing?’

  ‘What?’ he snapped, impatient to be off.

  She gestured towards Bellevue. ‘I mean, for you. I should hate for you to make the wrong choice all over again.’

  He reined in and brought Partisan about. ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘Well, you seem to think that Sophie might be in some kind of danger,’ she said in her gentle, devastating way. ‘So going back to the ox-wagon might be the wrong choice. Mightn’t it?’

  Partisan was angrily tossing his head, and when Ben glanced down he saw that he’d been unconsciously sawing at the reins. It took an effort of will to loosen his grip. ‘Sophie’, he said quietly, ‘is in no kind of danger. She’ll be fine. Now please, Miss Clemmy, turn round and go back to town.’

  Sophie will be fine, he told himself again, as he dug in his heels and headed up the road towards the field-hands. She’ll turn back when she sees the fire. She isn’t completely mad.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  How bizarre, thought Sophie as she cantered through Greendale Wood, that you chose this of all days to go and see Maddy at Falmouth.

  It was supposed to have been an opportunity to meet her sister on neutral ground, and re-establish some kind of contact. Instead here she was crashing through a wood with a cane-fire somewhere behind her, on her way to Eden.

  Eden. She still didn’t want to think about it. Perhaps something would happen to prevent her getting there. Perhaps she’d catch up with Belle on the way, or learn from someone on the road that she’d already been found, and taken back to town. She hated herself for such cowardice, but she couldn’t stop praying for something like that to happen.

  Nothing did. She clattered across Greendale Bridge, then turned Frolic south and started along the track towards Bethlehem. The cane-pieces were eerily deserted, the black ash softly falling. Ash this far east? But surely Clemency had said that t
he fire had started at Waytes Valley? That was miles away.

  She didn’t want to think about what it meant – or about what might be happening elsewhere. ‘Fever Hill all ablaze, Missy Sophie,’ the boy on the road had said. Fever Hill ablaze. So where was Ben?

  And what about Cameron? And Belle?

  She didn’t meet anyone on the road until about a quarter of a mile from Bethlehem, when she rounded a bend and came upon a small party of men with bills over their shoulders, heading south at a tireless lope.

  They told her they were from Simonstown, on their way to lend a hand. None of them had seen Belle, or even heard that she was missing. But they’d heard tell that the whole of Orange Grove had been given up to the fire, and that Master Cameron was burning a firebreak in a great north–south line, to protect the house and the eastern cane-pieces and the Maputah works.

  If it could be finished in time, the firebreak would stretch from Greendale Wood in the north, all the way past the crossroads in the south. And if it held, then the fire would have nowhere to go except south into the hills. ‘Master Camron fixing to push that fire south,’ said the eldest man, ‘south inna the bush. And when it reach there, it burn itself out in the bare rockstones, if it please Master God.’

  ‘Where’s Master Cameron now?’ she said. ‘D’you know?’

  He shook his head. ‘Maybe down at Romilly? Maybe further north? But it don’t necessary for you to go on, Missy Sophie. You better turn back now, too much smokes up ahead. And not to frighten about Missy Belle. She soon going safe, for Master Camron go find her quick-time.’

  She bit her lip. In the distance up ahead she could see the roof of Bethlehem chapel pushing above the trees. Three miles beyond that lay Eden great house. The man was probably right: she should turn round now, and go back to town. She certainly wanted to. And in all probability, Cameron would find Belle without any help from her. He’d probably found her already, and sent her off in disgrace to her mother.