Wilfred, already regretting his cowardly capitulation to Veleema, had hoped she would at least reward him by saying goodbye, but either she was too busy or wished to avoid another altercation with her daughter.
'I do not understand this,' said Veldo. 'Even now it as safer here than in Dameefu.'
'It'll be dangerous, but she's probably right,' said Wilfred resignedly. 'That looks a nasty wound. You should have someone see to it.'
'I am a soldier,' shrugged Veldo.
At a signal from the tower they spiralled skywards. Wilfred was profoundly uncomfortable. His knees were under his chin and the engine casing was burning hot against his back. They'd each been given a leather flying helmet incorporating a pair of goggles, but his was too small to do up properly and constantly threatened to fall off.
They had agreed to travel in company if possible, but they had scarcely gained sufficient height to clear the hills when Pu gestured urgently to Daphne's pilot, who raised an answering fist and began to turn swiftly away. Twisting himself awkwardly round, Wilfred was alarmed to see the Purple ship no more than a mile behind them. All too soon it had spotted their attempted escape and was hastening to cut them off.
The two erijukid were now climbing in opposite directions, but the ship unhesitatingly chose to go after Daphne. Did they somehow know, wondered Wilfred, or was it pure chance? The next moment he found himself clinging desperately to the cockpit sides as Pu threw their machine into a vertiginous banking turn and headed back towards the rapidly accelerating ship. Coming athwart its massive hull he aimed his gun at the vulnerable point beneath the bridge and fired, the powerful beam slicing a long gash in its bronze plating. The Purple gunners immediately returned fire, a veritable broadside, but Pu was no longer there; he'd plummeted beneath the ship's underbelly, raking that as well for good measure. As they came out the other side, they almost collided with the third flyer. Smoke streaming from a shattered porthole showed where he, too, had left his mark. Alas, he'd paid the ultimate price, for his aircraft was ablaze from end to end. Throwing a leg over the edge of the cockpit, he hesitated for a moment, gave them a wave and jumped. Wilfred watched him fall, a tiny spreadeagled shape, disappearing into the shadows below.
Still the purple ship bore relentlessly down on Daphne's fleeing craft, as apparently indifferent to their stinging attack as a rhinoceros to a midge bite. Instantly, Pu began another turn, but the enemy was now travelling at a speed that even the fastest erijuk could scarcely hope to equal, let alone exceed.
It was then that Wilfred's helmet finally blew away, leaving his neglected mane of blond hair flying in the wind. The result was entirely unexpected, for in moments the ship had altered course, its captain transferring his attention from Daphne's craft to their own. No doubt he had learned that the rival goddess had hair of a similar colour and had mistaken Wilfred for Daphne. But even as the second erijuk carried away to safety its precious cargo they realised they were in serious trouble. The Purple ship would now stop at nothing to destroy them, and fight or run, the result was likely to be the same.
By now the hollow mountain was far behind, with nothing beneath but the monotonous bottle-green of the Dameefuan wilderness, its only feature a meandering branch of some nameless river. Glancing behind him, Pu threw their machine into a screaming, near-vertical dive, the reedy waters of the river rushing to meet them. With just inches to spare, he flattened out and scarcely slackening speed plunged in among the trees. Wilfred cowered and fended off dangling tijit vines as the Venusian worked his way deep among the shaggy mangrove-like roots of the forest giants, only coming to a halt when confronted by an enormous web with filaments the thickness of a child's finger. A repulsive football-sized arachnid with disturbingly sentient eyes gazed at them from the middle of it.
For a long while they sat listening for any sound of the questing ship, until the creature gave a sudden, terrified squeal as the vegetation close by burst into a wall of flame. If the Purple bow gunner couldn't see them, he seemed to have a pretty good idea of where they were hiding. Starting up the engine, they ploughed through the burning remains of the web and struggled on beneath the jungle canopy, swerving wildly left and right in the hope of confusing their pursuer. Feeling something touch his ear, Wilfred turned to find the spider clinging on behind. He punched it off.
The valley was starting to narrow, and it seemed inevitable that the ship would spot them before long. Again they halted, unsure what to do next.
'Perhaps we should wait for nightfall?' ventured Wilfred, though not eager to remain in such a place after dark. But he'd scarcely spoken when the sky was lit up as if by lightning and next moment they fell into the shadow of an immense flying object. With relief they realised it was the Yellow ship, now bearing down with malign intent upon their erstwhile aggressor. Not waiting to see what would happen, they turned and ran, leaving the two behemoths to lock horns in battle.
Following the river system deeper into Dameefu they began at last to encounter the rafted villages of the thaalid. Many now presented a most doleful prospect; quite deserted and at least partially burned. Some were still moored to the bank, but others had broken loose to fetch up wherever the daily flood chose to take them. Wilfred had decided to return to Vanapop – he was their pipati after all – but he would scarcely have recognised it had not Daphne and her pilot been waving vigorously up at them. Nothing now remained of the great long-house but a collapsing framework of charred timbers, while all around was the blackened detritus of the villagers' former lives — a destroyed handloom, a burned-out canoe, a juvenile's wooden toy. A few small huts lined the water's edge but they were crude and temporary things of sticks and unseasoned reeds. Chafing his cramped limbs, Wilfred gazed about him in horror. Even the logs beneath his feet were burned black.
'Where is everyone?' he asked
'How should I know?' snapped Daphne. 'Hiding, I expect. What kept you? We've been here ages.'
Clearly the journey had not improved her temper.
'We go now,' said Soldo, whose English was basic at best. 'See erijuk, thaalid come nuunt. You say to Migraani?'
Wilfred hesitated. What message could he send? That he loved her still? That he felt bereft and empty because she hadn't said goodbye? That he wished only to hold her in his arms? 'Tell her we arrived safely,' he said. 'I'm sorry we can't offer you a cup of tea.'
Soldo grinned. 'One day we drink.'
The two aircraft rose and banked away over the trees, leaving Wilfred and Daphne alone.
'Look, I'm really sorry,' began Wilfred.
'I'm going to change,' said Daphne. 'If you come near me, I'll scream.'
Reflecting that this was rather an empty threat, Wilfred watched her stalk to the other end of the fire-ravaged village. Opening a little bundle she'd brought with her, she took from it her long neglected 'goddessing' things; the bronze torc and arm rings and revealing gossamer skirts. Soon she stood near-naked on the edge of the raft, her perfect body very white against the dark green of the jungle.
Now there came a little movement among the reeds and a crowded canoe put out, followed by another. Some of the occupants recognised Wilfred and greeted him with joy, but when they saw the Holy Mark they abandoned him for their Voorni, casting themselves upon their faces before her. Unhurriedly, Daphne placed a charcoal-stained foot on each furry head. It didn't take long, for of the once flourishing community there remained perhaps thirty adults and a handful of juveniles and fry.
'I suppose I must make some sort of speech,' she said, 'but you'll have to translate it for me.'
'All right, provided it's not too long,' said Wilfred doubtfully. 'Only it's been quite a while and I wasn't very fluent to start with.'
'I'll do it,' said a voice.
Turning in mild alarm, they discovered a small, barefoot figure wearing a frock of the finest thaal-woven fabric. Every colour of the rainbow seemed to be in it, making a splash of brightness where no other existed. A dense veil or yashmak quite hid her face so th
at only her eyes were visible, and in her hand she held the Witchdoctor's medicine stick, still with Freddy's repaired bullet hole clearly visible.
'Agnes?' said Daphne wonderingly. 'Is it really you?'
Chapter 24
'And then the poor thing died, so there was no point in their carrying on,' said Agnes. 'Also they felt bad about leaving us alone in the jungle. It wasn't very difficult to find me because we used to leave behind a campfire now and then and lots of tracks, and when they came to the anthills they called out and I answered. I believe they thought I'd die too, but somehow they brought me to a river and found a village and when at last I got well enough to travel, we came back here. They've been so wonderfully kind to me, sir. I owe them everything.'
'And that's when they made you into the witch doctor?' asked Wilfred.
'Oh no, not then. Hurf was still alive, and Hif, who I suppose was what you'd call his apprentice. But then the Purple ship came and burned the village and we all ran away and lots of us were killed and they were too. The proper word is the topati, sir, but I'm certainly not that. I do what I can, but it's hard because I wasn't trained for it, which takes years, and I'm always in pain because of my face. Could you just excuse me a minute? They know perfectly well what to do but I still have to tell them. It's how they like it.'
The erstwhile lady's maid now began to bustle about the village, giving her orders in fluent Popti. Everywhere the thaalid began respectfully to do her bidding, some setting off on various errands in their canoes and some commencing to trim and shape a heap of fresh-cut logs, while a trio of males hastened to fetch the village drums from their hiding place in the forest.
Wilfred watched them setting up their instruments with interest, for though their sound was an ever-present part of Venusian life he had never seen them. They were double-ended, set horizontally in a simple frame and played sitting on a little stool. None was exactly the same shape or size as the others but all bore a marked resemblance to the 'talking drums' that he remembered from Africa.
After a period of tuning, one of them began steadily to beat on the larger end of his instrument with a small, clubbed stick. The smaller end he struck more rapidly, and seemingly irregularly, with his fingers. The second drummer then began in a similar fashion but with a somewhat brighter sound. Finally the last overlaid the work of the others with a strange, hollow booming which one felt instinctively would carry for miles. All the while they were using their calloused, six-toed feet to tighten or loosen the cords that modulated the pitch of each skin. The superficially cacophonous result seemed impossible for a human ear ever to disentangle, but clearly the thaalid could, and it occurred to Wilfred that this might almost be thought of as their true language, capable of far more subtle shades of meaning than their rather primitive spoken one.
'What are they saying?' he asked Agnes. 'Do you know?'
'They'll be calling everyone to the Voorni and telling them your news. By tomorrow we'll have hundreds here. I must send out the hunters or they'll be hungry and then they'll get tetchy and start squabbling.'
'Will they be able to explain about Miss Daphne being the real Voorni and the one in Faluaan being a fake?'
'Oh yes sir, easily. But there's no need; they know that already.'
Wilfred gazed at her in astonishment. 'They do?'
'Yes, of course. They've always known. They're not stupid sir. They know the queens in Faluaan haven't had the Holy Mark for years and years. It's just painted on, and not very well either, by all accounts. But they don't like change sir, they really don't. Everything has to be exactly like it's always been, and if they didn't have their religion I think their whole world would fall apart, so even a false Voorni is better than nothing. But when Miss Daphne came along they knew straight away that she was the real thing, and I expect the Purples know it too, sir, which is why they destroyed our village. They want to frighten us into giving her up, but we'll never do that, and if I were this new queen of theirs I think I'd get in my spaceship and fly back to where I came from, while I still could.'
For the rest of the day and the following night, the pilgrims continued to arrive. With their enthusiastic help, the new long-house was swiftly completed, and Daphne once again enthroned within it.
Wilfred was only too aware that all across Venus the voice of the drums was being passed relentlessly onwards. In a very short while, the Purples would know exactly where the rival goddess was to be found and what she was doing. Somehow he had to keep her safe, and he debated anxiously with himself the best means of doing so. Would it be better to stay here and rely on his little ray pistol in the event of an attack, or should he have her "progress" from village to village like some jungle Good Queen Bess, hoping thereby to stay ahead of trouble? No doubt that would require a flotilla of newly constructed canoes and a great deal of feasting and hullabaloo wherever they stopped, and who knew what dangers they might encounter along the way? He badly needed to talk things over with her, but it seemed she was determined to avoid him. Reflecting that he'd rather face another enemy ship, he waited until the last worshippers were leaving and cornered her in her place of work.
'Look, I don't mean to be a nuisance but you've been a bit elusive lately and I just wanted to say I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to upset you.'
'Then why did you do it?' she snapped. 'You didn't need to; you could simply have said no.'
'Yes I could, and I very nearly did. But what if I had? Your mother might have conscripted someone else instead — Veldo perhaps. Would you have wanted that?'
Wilfred was gratified to see this shot strike home. He wondered what was so unattractive about the unfortunate Captain of Ships.
'Did she put you up to it?' Daphne demanded. 'Or did she just spring it on you?'
'We discussed it, of course.'
'And I suppose you thought if you couldn't get me any other way you might as well go along with it.'
'No, I agreed to it because we're friends, or were, and because she's right. Here and now I probably am better able to take care of you than anyone else. I've no intention of forcing myself on you, so if you can't bear the thought of marrying me in the eyes of God, so to speak, we can simply pretend. Who's to know? And if you ever fall for someone else, I'll just step aside.'
Daphne looked surprised. 'Don't you want me then? I thought you did.'
'I didn't say that.'
'But you're not in love with me?'
'I . . . No, I'm not. Sorry.'
'I think you'd better go!'
Feeling he'd done rather well, Wilfred returned to his hut. Nothing he'd said had been untrue, and he could scarcely have told her the main reason for his agreeing to the union. It was probably for the best that it had turned out this way, and of course he'd continue to support and protect her, as who would not? But late that night as he dozed to the sound of the drums, he saw her shadowy figure dip through the doorway.
Standing over him, she threw off her clothes. 'I suppose we might as well get it over with,' she said sullenly. 'Ought I to lie down, or something?'
A few days later, he heard a welcome voice hail him from the river. Standing in a large canoe was Soldo. It was well laden, having as cargo his erijuk. A pair of thaal paddlers grinned up at their bemused fellows.
'Caadil ir thaalid nuunt,' he explained, looking pleased with himself.
'Smart thinking,' agreed Wilfred. 'What news?'
'Very good news. Purples hurt bad, make a peace. Yellow ship come tomorrow, take Voorni to Faluaan.'
Wilfred could scarcely believe his ears. 'Do you mean to tell me the war is over?'
'This they say.'
'Did the Migraani send a message?' The Venusian nodded, and Wilfred's heart leapt.
'She say: do not reveal you are Tantuun, and trust your uncle.'
'Is that all?'
'Yes.'
'Is she well?'
'Yes, I think well. Tomorrow she come, then you see.' Soldo gazed intently at his friend, his head on one side. 'Are y
ou truly Tantuun now, Wilfred? Tuun of all Venus?'
'Yes Soldo, it appears that I am.'
'Then I fall!'
'Well you'd best step aboard first or you'll get wet,' smiled Wilfred. 'Come on, I owe you a cuppa. Have you eaten?'
"Tomorrow she come"! He was unsure whether to be elated or afraid. Would they get a chance to be together? He wanted her so much! Why trust Uncle Freddy particularly? And how was she so sure he'd done what was required of him?
Despite Wilfred's attempts to allay their fears, only a handful of the boldest male thaalid remained to watch the arrival of the Yellow flagship, tightly gripping their spear-paddles and frequently glancing at their pipati for reassurance. As the ship's landing-ramp came to rest on the fire-ravaged timbers of the raft, Wilfred could see, mustered in the dark entrance, the captain and his crew, waiting to greet their honoured guest.
'Are you coming with us Agnes?' he asked.
The acting Topati of Vanapop shook her head. 'Oh no sir. If you don't mind, I'd rather stay here; they need me.'
'But won't you at least see my uncle? He's terribly fond of you, you know.'
'No sir, I'd rather not, not like this. But I just wondered, do you think the Venusian doctors could do anything for me? They're so clever with their spaceships and everything and I wondered if they might be able to make me better, or at least stop the pain.'
As she spoke, she reached across and released the dense veil that covered her face. Wilfred was hard pressed not to recoil in horror. The whole of one cheek was quite gone, the terrible wound still pink and raw at its edges. Blood oozed at the hinge of her jaw.
Storm on Venus Page 26
