"We can't hold them off like this!" Indy spat amid the roaring and thrashing sounds. He drew the Webley, desperate not to fire the shots that would reveal their presence. He turned to Caitlin. She was barely visible in the thick white mist heaving across the barren. It rose everywhere to several feet above the ground. No higher, but so dense that only the higher foliage and trees were visible.
Caitlin turned, saw the alligators still rushing in. She pointed the scepter at the water. The pain in Indy's head increased, throbbing, stabbing at him. But the alligators had stopped their assault. They were turning, leaving!
He forced out his words. "Into the water! Quickly!"
Gale slipped on the muddy bottom. Indy grasped her arm, helped her regain her balance.
"This is insane!" she yelled at him.
"Quiet!" Caitlin's voice, urgency commanding their attention. "Can you hear it?"
They stood in silence. Then both Indy and Gale heard it. A sound of distant thunder, a shaking of the ground, sending birds and insects fluttering wildly into the air. The thunder grew into a roar, rushing toward them, the earth itself seemed tortured, the rumble and thunder like the hollow booming of thousands of drums. Even the water about them began to dance, tiny spouts of white lifting above the surface as shock waves raced across the ground and along the lake.
"Thunder..." Gale stared at Indy. "What is it? I can't believe this... the sky. It's clear."
She started for the shore. Indy grabbed her, held her back. "Stay here," he gritted.
The whole world seemed to be pounding. An enormous, invisible, thundering surf rushed closer and closer.
Indy had to shout to be heard. "Ten o'clock!" he called out in triumph. "The past is now the present!" Unmistakable jubilation in his voice.
"Bugles!" Caitlin shouted.
Gale's eyes were wide. "I hear them! Bugles! But... Indy, what's happening?"
Indy ignored her. "Caitlin! Cordas and his men! They've got to be covered with the mist!"
Caitlin remained impassive. "They are invisible to whatever magic you have brought here."
Indy laughed, a roar of mirth. "Magic? It's not magic! I promised you a time twist, remember? I would bring the past into the present. Don't you know yet what you're hearing?" He didn't wait for a reply.
"Look!" he cried, pointing. "Here they come! Right out of time! The Union cavalry attacking! More than four hundred horses, running right at Cordas and his men! Listen! Hear that?"
Sharp, cracking sounds sounded above the thunder. "Musket fire! A thousand men on foot, behind the cavalry, firing!"
Indy threw both arms into the air in a gesture of triumph. Before the stunned eyes of the two women, the Yankee cavalry charged into view, four hundred horses and their riders, the men holding sabers high in the air, shouting war cries, whooping and yelling.
Straight to that open space between the copses of trees where Cordas and his killer band lay, invisible to the riders tearing through the swirling mist.
Gale's face registered shocked disbelief. She clutched Caitlin's arm. Neither woman could utter a word as the cavalry crashed along, like a huge engine of destruction, four hundred horses, messengers of death, smashing through Cordas's camp, grinding and pounding them underfoot.
Caitlin found her voice. She grasped Indy's shoulder, turned him to look direcdy into his eyes.
"Truly, you are a wizard," she gasped.
25
The thunder of sixteen hundred hooves pounded away from them. In the trail of the cavalry charge, fog swirled and dust and grassy debris spilled high into the air. The ground still shook, then heaved and rolled beneath their feet in the muddy lake, as if they stood on the edge of an earthquake.
"Cordas ..." Gale clutched Indy's arm and shoulder for support. Birds still whirled and darted about in fear and confusion over the pine barren. And beyond the feathered creatures they knew men had been trampled, heavy animals and sharp hooves crashing into their bodies, cracking bones like brittle twigs.
"Look!" Caitlin cried, pointing. Indy's time twist was still exploding past them as more than a thousand blue-uniformed troops, cheering and shouting at the top of their voices, ran steadily after the cavalry charge. Muskets popped and exploded as the men fired on the run. The charge had torn the ground mist to swirling wisps. They could see the men in their headlong charge, continuing their firing, running faster as they went directly for the Confederate breastworks still out of sight to Indy and the two women.
"I... I can't believe this!" Gale shouted above the exploding din of running feet, muskets firing, and the cries and shouts of the attacking Union soldiers. "Indy, this is impossible! How could you bring back from the past an entire army?"
"Out of the water," Indy called. "Quickly. We needn't remain here any longer. And that kind of noise will only confuse and madden the gators and the snakes. Let's move."
They struggled through the muck to the shore, still gaping. Caitlin touched Indy's shoulder gently. "I am... I am overcome by what you have done. If ever I doubted you, I beg your forgiveness. This would astound the mightiest magicians of all history. It is incredible...."
The cavalry was gone, its thunder distant and muted, the rumble and musket fire and shouting from the soldiers heard clearly across the pine barren.
"If anybody in the Cordas camp is still alive, it will be another miracle," Gale noted. Indy lifted his binoculars to his eyes, studying their enemy's camp.
"I see one—no, two people moving. Barely moving, let me add. All that's left of their camp is wreckage."
"Cordas?" Gale asked the question.
"Can't tell from here. But let's not waste any time." He pointed to Gale. "Have your rifle ready, one in the chamber and the safety off," he directed. "You walk to my left, at least ten feet away. Caitlin, would you please do the same to my right? I want us spread out, and I want to get over there right away."
They started across the pine barren, three rifles loaded, ready to fire instantly. Mist began to form again about them. "Caitlin, can you get rid of that stuff now?"
"After what I have seen," she replied, "I would think a wave of your arm would do the trick."
"But I can't," Indy told her, keeping his eyes directly ahead of them. He watched one man stand, then fall, obviously hurt.
Moments later, as if a switch were pulled by Caitlin, the mist evaporated in a rush of cool air.
"Indy, would you tell me how you worked your magic?" Caitlin asked.
He didn't answer immediately. He was still taken by surprise that Caitlin was calling him Indy. Before, it had been Jones or even a stilted-sounding Henry Jones. Now she'd dropped all barriers. That small shift signified the enormous shift in her relationship with him. He was now "family." And as sure as the sun rose and fell every day, he hated to tell her there wasn't any magic in that incredible performance they'd all just witnessed.
Unless, of course, you considered intensive research, studying, knowledge, and persistence on the same level with magic. Maybe they were. They took longer, but they were always reliable.
They were too close to Cordas's camp for long explanations. "Caitlin, I'll tell you all of it, but not now. We've got other business at hand."
As if to emphasize Gale's words, deep groaning rolls of thunder boomed from someplace faraway. Gale's head snapped around. "I know that sound. That's artillery fire."
Both women stared again at Indy. He ignored the looks and almost snarled at them. "Watch what you're doing! Don't look at me... keep those rifles up. Move in!"
Indy dropped to a crouch, started running in a zigzag like a football player. Beneath his feet the ground was chewed to fresh dirt from pounding hooves. Hardly a blade of grass or brush could be seen.
He came up fast on the camp.
What had been a camp...
All but two of the men lay dead, bodies crushed and broken by the cavalrymen, who, because of the mist, had never even seen Cordas and his men. One man lay on the ground, legs broken, moaning, but alive.
Cordas was the other man. Seated with his back propped against an old tree stump, face bloodied, one arm hanging broken.
In the other he held a rifle, bringing it up slowly to aim at Indy. Too slowly to do him much good. His eyes were glazed in shock and pain; he was holding the rifle from instinct and rage. Indy held his rifle pointed at him. Then, suddenly, Indy's rifle fell, his whip lashed out, snapped around Cordas's rifle, and jerked it away.
Cordas didn't make a sound. His one good arm was raised as though it were still holding a weapon. His mind was as battered and broken as his body.
Yet the strength of the man showed in the anger that shone in his eyes. Indy understood. He'd known men like Cordas. He would rather die in a fight than be a helpless prisoner. If Indy had fired his rifle, Cordas would have escaped his just punishment. Once dead, he would no longer be accountable for his crimes.
Indy's swift movement with his whip had placed the man in a cage with bars stronger than any steel. Helpless, he stared with mixed anger and hatred not only at Indy, but at Caitlin St. Brendan.
To Cordas, Caitlin had become his worst fear. An avenging angel. His only hope was that her own anger might be so great she would kill him.
Gale had already walked through the smashed remains of the encampment. She shook her head at the carnage about her. "They never had a chance," she finally said aloud. "That one over there." She pointed to the only man alive besides Cordas. "He'll live, but he has both legs broken and he's in shock."
"We'll need him," Indy said.
Gale gaped at him in disbelief. "For what?" she shouted. "He's one of those people trying to kill us! Blood mercenaries is all he—"
"Whoa," Indy said sharply. "This isn't a matter of killing. Treadwell, and the American authorities, need to know who else was involved in what's happened. Terrible crimes have been committed. They'll only find out what the real story is if they have someone they can question. He's no use to them if he's dead."
"You really want him to live?" Gale said, her disbelief undiminished.
"You've got it," Indy said. "You kill him here and now, helpless like he is, and you commit murder. We get him back to England and into an English court, and when he's through singing like a canary to save his own hide, they'll hang him high and long for his crimes. No one gets away with committing mass atrocities in your country."
Gale swallowed; finally she nodded slowly. "I hate every word you've just spoken." She shook her head at not being able to finish off the last of the killers. "But you're right."
"Think of it another way," Indy added. "The people at the Glen will see, and they will know, that justice will be done. You don't want to rob them of that."
Gale leaned on her rifle, yielding to Indy's words. "That, too, is true," she said at last.
Indy turned to Caitlin. She stood tall and strong before Cordas, still propped up against the tree stump. Her rifle lay on the ground and in her right hand she held Caliburn. The sword gleamed in the morning sun, casting off glistening beads of light.
One thrust and Cordas would be dead. Caitlin wanted revenge for what had happened in the Glen. One thrust and her family would be avenged, the honor of the Glen would be upheld. Yet she hesitated.
She turned to Indy.
"Before I kill him," she said, her face as frozen as stone, "I must know of your magic. I would not be here with this garbage before me without your help. I cannot complete my oath without my understanding how you did your magic. And I have wondered, deeply, if you are not of the line of Merlin himself."
"This," Gale murmured, "I want to hear."
"No magic," Indy said, watching Caitlin and still keeping Cordas in sight. Broken legs notwithstanding, that man was dangerous. Suddenly Indy realized how stupid he was being and quickly broke off what he had started to say.
"Caitlin, hold the sword at his throat. Do not kill him yet. But if he makes a sudden move, act quickly." He studied Cordas's eyes. The man could understand every word he was saying, and that made him doubly dangerous. "If he moves his arm, either one," Indy said, harshness in his voice, "cut it off with the sword."
Gale was shocked by his words, but remained still. Caitlin moved forward, the razor point of Caliburn just touching Cordas's neck. Quickly Indy went to Cordas and began a search of his pockets and clothing. On his side with the good arm he found and removed a revolver. He tossed it aside and continued the search. When he stood, he held two hand grenades he'd removed from under Cordas's leg. He put them gently on the ground near Gale.
Cordas looked at him with pure hatred in his eyes. "The party's over," Indy said to the man. He motioned Caitlin back. She didn't move; Caliburn remained poised for a final thrust.
"Tell me what you were prepared to say," she told Indy.
"I said there was no magic," he said, as calmly as he could. One thrust of Caliburn, one short movement of Caitlin's arm, and Cordas would be skewered like a helpless animal. Indy wanted desperately to avoid his death. This was the ringleader, the mastermind, of a ring of international criminals. Bring Cordas back to England and Thomas Treadwell could break the back of that organization.
Dead, he would simply leave an open space for another leader to fill.
"If there were magic," Indy said to Caitlin and Gale, "then I would know where the gold was hidden. I do not know."
"And it is not in this camp," Gale broke in. "I've searched everywhere."
For the first time Cordas spoke. Not easily, for the effort brought a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. "You'll never find it," he forced out through cracked lips. "If we could not find it, no one can. You're amateurs. Clumsy and stupid and—"
The point of Caliburn nudged closer. A spot of blood appeared. Enough for Cordas to choose silence.
Caitlin glanced at Indy. "Please. Continue."
"I hate to disillusion you," Indy began again, "but there is no magic to what I did. I don't know how to do magic. What I do have is information and, above all, an ability to bring different things together at the same moment in time."
"Is that not magic?"
"No," Indy said emphatically. "It is using knowledge and timing. Properly used, history, as well as knowing what is going to happen, produces desired results."
"You said what is going to happen," Caitlin answered cautiously. "Is that not magic?"
"No. It is scheduling."
"You confuse me."
"That's not my intention, Caitlin. Look," Indy said with all the sincerity he could put into his voice, "today is the sixty-sixth anniversary of the Battle of Olustee Station. As I studied the historical documents, confirming everything I could with the records kept here in Florida, I realized I had stumbled onto something. When we stayed at that hotel in Macclenny, I had a long talk with that forest ranger, Dave Barton. That's when I began gathering all the pieces that I might bring together at the right time. Which was ten o'clock this morning."
"Indy, get to the point!" Gale scolded.
"The point is," Indy said, ignoring her impatience, "that each year the people from this entire countryside, and even from a few hundred miles away, gather to commemorate the Battle of Olustee Station. It's a reenactment of the original battle. Thousands of enthusiasts, buffs, historians, they all come together. They've re-created the original regiments and battalions, the uniforms, muskets, and artillery. It is an exact duplicate of the forces that were involved in the fighting at Olustee and at Ocean Pond. And that includes all the horses, weapons.
"Everything except live ammunition."
He paused to look across the pine barrens, seeing in his mind's eye the powerful charge of Union cavalry that had swept through where he now stood.
"They did fire their weapons, but they were using blank ammunition. The cavalry charges, the infantry, reenact exactly what happened back in the war between the North and the South. That's why marking the maps was so vital. That's how I knew that at ten o'clock this morning the Blues would come charging through this area with those four hundr
ed horses, going headlong against the Confederate positions.
"It's a wild and terrible battle, but no one gets hurt. Unless, of course"—Indy chuckled—"he falls off his horse. And when the battle is over, everybody gets together and they have a marvelous feast of barbecue and catfish and their favorite foods, and they get drunk and they fight the war all over again, but this time with beer and white lightning and bourbon instead of guns and swords.
"So what I did was to learn the exact times and the route. That's why we had to maneuver Cordas and his cutthroats into this very position, because I knew the cavalry would come thundering right through here.
"They never expected anyone to be in their way. All the local people know just where they're coming from and—"
"The mist," Caitlin said softly. "You had me bring on the mist so that the men on their horses could not see Cordas and his band."
"Right. If they had seen them, they would have gone around them. And if Cordas and his bunch knew what was coming, they would have gotten out of the way. But the cavalry couldn't see this group, here, and they couldn't see the cavalry, and what they heard sounded like thunder approaching. The rest you know. But you see, Caitlin, we were out of the way. And just as important, and I'm sure it's more important to you than anything else, you haven't violated your ancient rules.
"You didn't do this to these people. The ones who murdered so many of your clan. They did it to themselves."
"I am astonished," Caitlin said. "But now the time has come for Cordas to leave this world." She poised to thrust the sword deeper into his neck.
"Caitlin... don't!" Gale's voice burst from her in a frightened scream. "Don't kill him!"
The terrible sword remained still. Slowly, almost with disbelief, Caitlin turned to the woman who had been, all through her life, her soul sister.
In a voice as cold as the steel she held in her hand, she asked quietly, "And why not?"
Gale pointed to Cordas. "Your enemy is unarmed, Caitlin. He lies helpless before you. Caliburn was never meant for slaughter. Its power is meant for use in battle. If you kill this mad dog, this human wretch, no matter how terribly he has wronged you, all of your family, you will kill out of hatred and vengeance. You will break the pact with our past."
Indiana Jones and the White Witch Page 25
