After firing another shot into the air, the queen leaped nimbly into the shallow surf, strode onto the shore, and went directly to the table at which the wedding party was seated. The three grooms had risen, and they stood near their brides to shield them from danger.
Captain Nordstrom and Wilson Hardy, Sr., also came forward to confront the queen. She looked them up and down dismissively. At the same time, she glanced about, trying not to show her astonishment at finding the beach so crowded with people. She had expected to arrive on an empty shore and sweep from there, unopposed, into the village. She was caught offguard by this—what was it? It looked like a wedding feast. At least no one appeared to be carrying weapons. The revelers were clearly unarmed, shocked by her sudden appearance. Good. Let them be shocked; she could use this to her advantage.
"Are you having a nice celebration?" the pirate queen asked in a loud voice. Covertly she tried to calculate the size of the crowd.
"Yes, thank you," Captain Nordstrom answered, as if the question had been sincere. "Would you care to join us?"
The woman laughed scornfully. "I think the question is, 'Would you care to join me?' After all, you are my prisoners."
"What do you mean?" Dr. Hardy said. "You can't—"
"Silence! I can—and I have. We have the weapons, as you can see. And you are my prisoners; that is the fact of the matter. I hope there is enough food left for my men. They are very hungry." She turned toward the sea and waved her left hand, her right still gripping the ominous rifle.
As the pirate force, responding to her signal, left their vessels and moved swiftly to various points along the shoreline, there were scattered screams among the wedding guests. Each of these fierce-looking men was armed with a machete or a large hunting-style knife, and many of them carried guns as well. The guests began to fall back, a few of them turning as if to run.
Chaudri and Patel appeared at Queen Ranavolana's side and reported that their men were all ashore, ready to move on the village. Their language was incomprehensible to Nordstrom and Hardy; but the two men understood the meaning all too clearly. It had happened as predicted by the escapees from Madagascar. This was a full-scale invasion.
"Everyone go back to your homes—now!" Nordstrom called to the wedding guests, many of whom seemed to be frozen in place at their tables. "You too!" he said to the brides and their grooms. "Move quickly. Go!"
The queen and her men watched the people starting to leave the beach and move back toward the village. She was pleased that her men exercised discipline and did not pursue, awaiting orders. She addressed her two subcommanders: "Prepare to move in when I give the word. First, I will speak to these two. I assume they are the leaders of this settlement." To Nordstrom and Hardy, she said, "Now, gentlemen, do you wish to hear my terms?" They did not reply immediately, but returned her steady, unflinching gaze.
"Well, you'll hear what I have to say whether you like it or not. These men"—she swung her arm around to indicate the menacing figures that had advanced up the beach—"they follow me, do as I tell them. And I will order them to slaughter every man, woman, and child in the village if you do not cooperate with me."
"What do you want from us?" Hardy asked.
"Food, supplies, armaments. You will surrender any weapons that you have, or else my men will take them by force. Anyone who resists will be executed on the spot. I hope I have made myself clear."
"Why do you come here as pirates and thieves instead of as friends? We are willing to share what we have, and to work with you. There is no need for this ... this show."
"Do not think it is just a show. Understand that it is a show of force. We mean to take what we need. Why should I believe your offer to share? The world is in ruins. My people are close to starvation. They are depending on me to feed them. They are desperate—as am I. Therefore, I will take—not ask, but take—and I will send my men back for more whenever there is a need. Eventually this region will become an outpost of my empire."
"You should believe us because we tell the truth. We have no quarrel with you, no wish to withhold aid." Hardy spoke slowly, deliberately, trying to find some ground on which he could negotiate. But the young woman, very clearly an American from her speech and demeanor, would give no quarter.
"You do not understand. I am not asking for anything but demanding. And if you defy me, you will pay with your life." She lifted the rifle barrel so that it pointed at Dr. Hardy's chin. "Perhaps I have made myself clearer."
"You have, indeed," Captain Nordstrom said, admiring Hardy's steadfast courage, but fearful for his comrade's life. He kept his own voice steady: "We do not wish to defy you, only to understand exactly what it is you need—what you demand."
"Don't try to soft-talk me, Swedish Man," she said, swinging the gun suddenly in the captain's direction.
"Norwegian," Nordstrom said. He couldn't help himself; but when he saw that he had angered her, he changed course. "And you are American, I presume."
"Presume all you like, but where I come from does not matter a damn. The world is destroyed and everything is changed. It is where I am now that counts—and who I have become. I am Ranavolana, Queen of the Malagasys and Admiral of the Oceans. You, sir, are my subject, as are all of your people. Now, let's move toward your settlement. Both of you, stay with me." To her lieutenants, she said: "Bring the men forward, at the ready. We'll establish ourselves in command of their village, and exact the tribute that is due us."
Patel and Chaudri moved to her right and left, respectively, and ordered their men to advance.
She checked her watch, a cheap old Timex that had accompanied her on her globe-trotting tours over the past decade and still worked—miraculously. The timing of the operation so far was perfect. The reinforcements from the north should be approaching the village just about now.
—————
At the sound of the first shot a half hour earlier, Captain Nordstrom had put into effect the defensive plan he and General White and the Expanded Defense Committee had devised. With a prearranged signal, he dispatched Deck Officer Gustafsson to the village to carry the news and help arrange the defenses. Before the pirate queen's feet touched the sand, his trusted aide had disappeared into the darkness.
Early that morning the captain had been awakened by Gustafsson and Olav Hamsun, the Queen of Africa's security officer. Runners from Ulundi had arrived with news: the Madagascar invasion force had been sighted by Inlander scouts in a cove about ten miles to the north of Engineering Village. At dawn, one body of men— approximately one hundred and fifty—had moved inland on foot and headed south toward the village. The fleet, with about two hundred and fifty men aboard, had sailed out to sea and then set a course toward the beach that served as the community's port facility. The queen's two pronged attack was launched. The captain had transmitted this information to General White, who was prepared to mobilize the defense forces. So, throughout the morning and early afternoon, troops from the Engineering Village battalion had been gathering in secret in the bamboo groves around the village. They did not interfere with any of the wedding preparations; they simply were not there. And in the midst of the hubbub they were scarcely missed.
To the north, the Ulundi battalion had been deployed to intercept the land invaders; and shortly after Queen Ranavolana's fleet sailed, they had moved into action. The one hundred and fifty pirates were on the march, slovenly and unsuspecting, when the Ulundi force, five hundred strong—most of them young Zulus— attacked from the hills above. The assault quickly became a slaughter. The pirates fought with desperation, but they were surprised and outnumbered. And man for man, they were no match for the fierce warrior descendants of the mighty Shaka. Half the invaders were killed outright, including subcommander Yook Louie, who was simultaneously shot through the head with a bullet and run through the heart with a spear. Another twenty-five or so were wounded, which left only fifty standing. These threw down their arms and surrendered. Quickly, their hands were tied behind their backs. The
whole operation was over in less than an hour. The surviving pirates, totally unnerved, were then forced to march south with their conquerors.
A courier on horseback brought news of the victory to General White and informed him that the Ulundi battalion, with its prisoners, was en route to the village, expecting to arrive by evening. The Defense Committee and the Coordinating Committee, meeting in a secret emergency session, were faced with a decision. It was now mid-day: Should the wedding celebration be allowed to proceed?
"Considering the alternatives," Hardy had said, "I think we should carry on as normally as possible. A sudden cancellation would throw our people into a state of confusion that would only work to the benefit of the invaders. Besides," he continued with a grim smile, "if you'll permit a personal observation, my son—who you'll note has not been informed of this meeting—is scheduled to get married in a little while, and I don't want some two-bit so-called pirates to make us change our plans."
General White agreed. "We have no way of knowing exactly where and when the invasion fleet plans to come ashore," he said. "So let's just stay alert and keep our troops at the ready but concealed. The mad queen's eventual goal is certainly the village—and that is where we will prepare to meet her. In the meanwhile, let the celebration continue." He stood up, ready for an adjournment of the meeting, but then turned toward Dr. Hardy and put a hand on his shoulder. "Just one thing, Wilson," he said in a severe tone of voice. "I'm going back to join our fighting forces. But I don't like the idea of missing a party, and I want it remembered that you owe me one!"
This lightened the mood as the secret meeting ended. Some of those in attendance filtered out to join the wedding festivities. Others, along with General White, went to rejoin the troops.
When darkness fell, the pirate fleet had made its appearance.
—————
Ahead, Nordstrom and Hardy saw the lights of bonfires. Earlier in the day, these fires had been strategically placed to illuminate the length of the village, and orders were given for them to be ignited upon the approach of the enemy. The flickering glow now gave the scene a theatrical aspect, and the queen led her men confidently up to the small obelisk that marked the heart of the central square.
At this point, a shrill whistle was heard, and out of the shadows, on either side of the pirate force, there appeared a massed army stepping forward with practiced precision. To the invaders, this body of men appeared to be an enormous legion—a ghostly horde—arrayed row upon row and disappearing into the darkness. In reality, it was the Engineering Village battalion, somewhat less than five hundred in number, many of them armed with weapons of uncertain utility. But the most impressive-looking guns had been put into the hands of the front ranks, and the overall appearance of the force was fierce and intimidating.
Queen Ranavolana was stunned and she reflexively shivered. Chaos was the milieu in which she had risen to power. Here there appeared to be order and discipline, the nemesis of her reckless aggression. Still, she braced herself and managed to stand steady, pointing her gun ever more menacingly at Captain Nordstrom and Dr. Hardy. She was by no means vanquished by this latest turn of events. These two men had allowed themselves to become her hostages, a foolish move, she thought, which they must be very much regretting. And as soon as her land army arrived from the north— glancing at her watch she could see that they should be appearing at any moment now—they would attack this surrounding force and teach them a thing or two about battle. She knew her pirates to be ferocious fighters, each one the equal of several ordinary soldiers. Nevertheless, she was momentarily overcome by that same feeling of uneasiness she had experienced in the cove the previous evening.
As the two hostile forces stood staring at each other, fingering their weapons, General White stepped out of the ranks and walked forward to confront the queen directly. He was dressed in his precisely pressed U.S. Army uniform, golden stars ablaze in the flickering light, and several rows of battle ribbons arrayed imposingly on his broad chest.
"Madam," he said, "may I point out that you are surrounded and outnumbered. I suggest that you surrender before we have a lot of unnecessary bloodshed."
"May I suggest," Queen Ranavolana replied, "that you get out of our way before I decide to shoot you between the eyes." Confrontational talk seemed to revive the lady's spirits.
"I think this is what they call a Mexican standoff," Wilson Hardy quipped tensely; but no one was listening.
At this moment, from just outside the village, shouting could be heard. It was a crowd of warriors chanting a Zulu battle cry, at once spine-chilling and fiercely melodious. Closer and closer came the resounding chant, until suddenly Peter Mavimbela, streaked with dust and sweat, his clothing torn and bloodied, ran into view followed by a group of Ulundi militiamen. "We beat them! We beat them to a bloody pulp!" he exclaimed. "Come on in, boys!"
Queen Ranavolana and her men stood frozen, like disbelieving statues, as the Ulundi legions marched forward with the ragtag remnants of the pirate land army in tow. Mavimbela lined up the prisoners, bedraggled and defeated, heads hanging, unable to look in the direction of their queen. The Zulu warriors, some of them bedecked in animal skins and carrying large shields, struck terror into the hearts of the pirate invaders. The threatening precision of the Engineering Village battalion was now compounded by the savage menace of the Ulundi troops; it was too much to bear.
Captain Nordstrom reached toward the queen, palm upward, and said, "I will take your weapons, Your Majesty, if you please."
—————
The tables were now turned, and Queen Ranavolana was prisoner of the very people she had presumed to conquer. Oddly, she seemed almost relieved, and her body was totally limp as two militia officers half-carried, half-dragged her to the council pavilion for questioning.
General White took charge of the interrogation of the queen and her three surviving subcommanders. He asked Pascal Ralaimongo— because of his knowledge of conditions on Madagascar—to join the proceedings. Also in attendance were Nordstrom, Hardy Senior, and members of the Expanded Defense Committee; but they observed in silence. Although it was now approaching midnight, Wil Hardy, the new bridegroom, was called to duty as recording secretary.
The session lasted for several hours, and as it concluded, the dawn of a new day was breaking. The general wanted to be absolutely certain that there were no more reinforcements waiting to land on the beach and fall upon Engineering Village. It became obvious from the dispirited answers given by the queen and her subcommanders that there were no other hostile forces to be concerned about, nor anyone remaining on their home island who had either the means or the desire to recruit a new army. Ralaimongo reassured the group that this was the case. General White then sought other information about the survivors across the Mozambique Channel; also the resources—or lack of resources—in that little corner of the world.
When the interrogation session ended and the prisoners were led away, Wil Hardy went up to his father and Captain Nordstrom and confronted them angrily. "Why did you keep us in the dark?" he said, "Herb and Tom and me? If you knew what was going to happen, we should have been called for duty with the militia." First of all, young Wil wanted to do his share like everyone else. Secondly, how could he write about important events if he had not witnessed them himself?
His father looked from Captain Nordstrom to the younger man. "Apologies, son, but we didn't want to alarm the populace and possibly give aid to the enemy. Also, to tell the truth, we didn't want to spoil your wedding day." As he noticed the sun in the East, rising out of the sea, he was almost too tired to smile.
—————
By afternoon the Coordinating Committee was once again in session, this time trying to decide what to do with the members of the defeated army. Pascal Ralaimongo, the intrepid teacher and Malagasy elder, offered to return with them to Madagascar. He contended that without the leadership of the mad queen and her lieutenants, these brutes would not be able to function as an
organized force. Besides, he was confident that with a little bit of assistance from their South African neighbors, his countrymen could organize a civil society, and that the erstwhile pirates would soon blend in with the mass of survivors. He suggested that, in a primitive tribal setting, the life of a buccaneer holds few attractions. When there is little that is worth stealing, and when survival depends mainly on group enterprise, a criminal career loses its appeal. This was a fact that the members of the Coordinating Committee had found to be true in their own community. Of course, in the long run—everyone, including Ralaimongo, agreed—as society became wealthier and more complex, human nature would be human nature, and law enforcement would once again become an important aspect of civilized society. But the long run would have to take care of itself. There were more than enough immediate problems with which to cope.
In the end, Pascal Ralaimongo's suggestion was adopted: The invaders would be allowed to return to Madagascar. With them would go vital foodstuffs and tools, and a party of volunteers from the Ulundi Circle—doctors, engineers, and agricultural specialists. While this flotilla was being readied, an effort would be made, under Ralaimongo's direction, to "rehabilitate" the scoundrel pirate army and prepare them for a useful life among the decent people of their homeland.
The queen and her three villainous aides would be kept in a makeshift jail in Engineering Village. There were those who wanted them shipped back with their army; but that was considered too risky. Others wanted them executed; but that was considered too barbaric, particularly in the absence of any legal code. Was there to be a limit to their term of imprisonment? Could they ever be paroled or pardoned? These vexing questions, by general consensus, would have to be decided "in the future."
—————
A few days later, as the time for the fleet's planned departure was drawing near, Captain Johan Nordstrom walked on the beach studying the dozen craft that were lying at anchor. He admired especially two of them that were beautifully shaped and carefully crafted, obviously built for speedy sailing across rough seas. Suddenly, he was struck with an idea that took hold of him so forcefully that he could scarcely believe it had not occurred to him earlier. He awaited the next day's scheduled meeting of the Coordinating Committee with great anticipation.
The Aftermath Page 28
