Caribee

by Christopher Nicole

  'Ah,' Belain said. 'The chieftain claims a suzerainty over this entire land.'

  'Well, monsieur, it is most certainly his.'

  ‘I would dispute that, Captain Warner, if you will allow me. I have it on authority that this land once belonged to another race, a gentle, mild people, now quite disappeared from the face of the earth. And why, Captain? Because of these very Caribs, who have spread across these islands like the plague.'

  'No doubt, monsieur. We have encountered some of these Arawaks of whom you speak, in the forests of Guyana, eh, Edward?'

  Edward nodded. But his interest centred on the Frenchman. Here was a man talking with a purpose, and he observed that not a drop of wine actually passed his lips.

  'Well, then, sir,' Belain was saying. 'You will observe that their title rests on the strength of their right arms. The best of all titles, I may say, but one open to dispute by a stronger arm.'

  'There was a treaty and a pact of friendship between the chieftain and me,' Tom explained. 'Verbal, to be sure, but none the less before witnesses.'

  'Ah, Captain Warner, you are an amusing fellow. These people are heathen savages. Worse, they are cannibals. You know they are cannibals?"

  ‘Indeed, monsieur, we have seen them at their work.'

  'Mon Dieu,' Belain remarked at large. 'And you sit here, feasting with them? Sir, you are a man of parts. Yet can there be no treaties with heathen savages. You know, sir, that Tegramond would break his word to you without compunction should the notion enter his head?'

  'That I do not know, monsieur,' Tom said. ‘In any event, it must be my responsibility to see that such a notion never does enter his head. Else would we find ourselves in a position of some peril.'

  ‘Indeed, you are right, sir. What do you muster? Scarce two score men, and there must be a hundred of these savages, if you include the women. I have three score men with me, as you can see at a glance. Good men, Captain Warner, devoted to me.'

  Tom put down his cup. 'Monsieur, you will have to be plain with me. My head swings.'

  'Well, then, sir, I will be perfectly honest. You English, you are fortunate. Hear me out, sir, without offence or anger, I beg of you. Your late King, bah. I can understand your reasons for leaving your homeland to settle these barbaric shores. But he at the least is now dead, and all the world looks to this Charles for greatness, especially supported as he is in his domestic life. But we in France enjoy no such benefits. We are ruled by a priest, sir, who makes far too free with the queen mother, while our King suffers all the vicious habits of your James, without even the wit to hold his own sceptre. Our country is torn by dissension, sir, why, 'tis said the Huguenots store arms in La Rochelle and once again prepare to take the field. Ah, Captain Warner, France presents an unhappy sight to those who love her.'

  'You would emigrate?'

  ‘I have spoken with some of your colonists, Captain. They feel sadly the absence of numbers. Of European numbers, sir. Our nations are now as one, through the good offices of your King and our princess.'

  Tom was shaking his head, but very slowly.

  'Nor need we encroach upon your land, your profit,' Belain said, speaking urgently. 'You are settled here, in the very centre of the island. We shall not disturb you, Captain Warner, this I swear. But grant to us the two extremes. It can easily be measured to reassure my people that we are not being cheated. And that, Captain Warner, will leave the Caribs mainly my problem.'

  "The chieftain would not agree,' Tom said.

  ‘I would argue that point, sir. A few presents, some old arquebuses I have on board, some trinkets, and a few dozen bottles of this excellent wine of mine, and that fellow will sell his soul. Eh, monsieur?'

  He reached round Edward to slap Tegramond on the shoulder, and the cacique's eyes flopped open. He smiled delightedly, and then dozed off again.

  Belain burst out laughing. ‘I promise you, Captain Warner, the problem shall be mine.'

  It took another week of hard work to raise two cannon to the summit of Brimstone Hill. Ropes had to be bent together, cradles had to be constructed, blocks and tackles had to be installed, not only on the top of the hill, but in various places on the slopes, to enable the huge pieces of metal to transverse the sheer cliff. The work was attended to mainly by the Frenchmen, while the colonists and the Caribs watched and wondered.

  'People,' Tegramond said to Tom. 'Much people’

  'People,' Wapisiane said in disgust. 'Food, no.'

  'Not so,' Tom protested. 'We shall plant corn as well as tobacco, now. There will be food enough for all.'

  ‘I doubt the Governor has considered the matter in its entirety,' Tony Hilton said to Edward, down on the beach. 'So he was afraid of mustering only two dozen men to fifty savages. Now he musters no more to fifty savages and a like number of armed Frenchmen.'

  'You are allowing your sense of history to affect your judgement, Tony,' Edward said. 'My father and Monsieur Belain have signed a treaty of perpetual friendship. Whatever happens in the outside world, on Merwar's Hope there will be amity between us, for ever. Why, it could be a new world.'

  ‘It could be,' Hilton said. 'But for the time, it is a worthless scrap of paper. And it does not seem to have occurred to your father that he has obtained nothing from that cunning rascal. So he now has two cannon, pointing at the empty ocean. They cannot command the approaches to the hill, should the French decide to encroach upon English land. As for this farce of us maintaining the centre of the island while they are handicapped by existing at each end, has it occurred to you to explore the interior, Edward? I have. That mountain and its offshoots effectively divide the windward and leeward coasts as if it were a strait. Susan and I, on windward, are farther from Sandy Point than a Frenchman standing at either end, in point of time.'

  ‘If Father elects to trust Monsieur Belain, then I am prepared to trust in him,' Edward said,

  'You have composed your differences, then?’

  'After a fashion. But there can be no future here, for me.'

  'No future, for a Warner, in Merwar's Hope?"

  'You are making sport of me. Tell me of Susan.'

  The girl was inside, with Rebecca, who had retired to her hammock with one of her fevers. ‘I would not excite you, or anger you, Ned. I would merely say that she was worth fighting for, and if need be, dying for.'

  'Her back....'

  ‘Is scarred. Her mind also, I think. But scars heal, In time.' 'And she loves you?'

  Hilton glanced at him. 'Now, that I cannot say. She is my wife, at least in common law. I will make her so before God when the priest finally arrives. I would have you remember that, Ned. You are my friend. I willingly apologize for the harsh words I used to you. I used them because you disappointed me, on that occasion. But I recognize that as a fault of youth. Yet remember that she is my wife, and if perhaps she still feels some tenderness towards you, I possess her, and will keep her. That apart, I would have you stay. What man, would you throw away all of this?'

  "Think you my father will ever bequeath it to me?"

  ‘I would lay a rich wager on that, Ned. I look forward to it. Because then you will remember that Susan and I, and our children, are your oldest and best friends. So there's my hand on it. Stay, and rule. And count on me and mine.'

  A strange promise at a strange time, Edward thought. He sauntered through the house, and as a dutiful son, must stop and wait a while by his mother's bed. Rebecca sweated, and Susan was drying her forehead with a towel. She glanced at Edward, and then returned to her work. Without even a flush. Her mind seemed to be closed.

  ‘Is the cannon in place, Edward?" Rebecca whispered.

  'Aye.' He knelt beside the hammock. His arm brushed the girl's, and she never moved. Her hair stroked his bare shoulder. "They make a pretty sight.'

  'This will be a pretty place,' Rebecca said. ‘In years to come, I see houses, and a church. We have sadly neglected that. One day there will be bells, ringing across the bay, beneath the protection of those
cannon.

  'And more, Mama. We will build a fortress, up there.'

  'You will build that, Edward,' she said. 'Promise me.'

  She had ever been able to read his mind, too well. He took her hand, so thin where once it had been as strong as his own. ‘I will build that, Mama,' he said. ‘I promise you.'

  Again he glanced at the girl, and this time she smiled at him. The smile of a conscientious nurse pleased to discover filial loyalty. Once she had lain on her back before him, naked. And moments later he had taken her mind and torn it into pieces. He got up, and left the house by the back door, away from the toiling men and the hustle and bustle of the beach. He crossed the tobacco field and entered the bushes. Here it was cool, and silent. There would always be a cool and silent forest in Merwar's Hope. And he would always walk it. By himself. An endlessly lonely figure in an endlessly lonely world, doomed to a single-handed passage through time of some forty, fifty years or more.

  'Many men,' Yarico said. 'Much bang. Many dead.'

  She no longer startled him. As she no longer drove him wild with desire. Yet she had hardly changed. No, that was not right. She had changed. There was a slyness in her gaze he had never noticed before. Yarico, and Father? While Mama lay dying? What an incredible thought, fit to reawaken all the old hatred. But Mama had made him promise.

  'Your world,' he said. 'And you haunt it, like a spirit, Yarico.'

  She smiled. 'Ed-ward,' she said. 'Yarico.' She placed the forefinger of her right hand across the forefinger of her left.

  He shook his head. ‘I have not the stomach for it. Have you no other lover?'

  The smile remained bright. 'Ed-ward,' she said. 'Many men, Carib no. Tegramond no. Wapisiane no.' She came closer, squeezed his breast as she had done that first day, and then did the same to his buttock. 'Edward....' her tongue came out of her mouth and slowly circled her lips, a quite hideous gesture. Almost he could see the blood seeping from the corners of her mouth.

  'They'd find me uncommonly tough,' he said.

  Now the smile did fade. She grasped his arm, pointed at the sky. 'Carib no,' she said. 'Be-lain, no. War-nah, no. Sun, no. Carib. . . .' she made the unmistakable gesture of drawing a knife from her waist. 'Ed-ward....' her head flopped sideways, eyes staring, tongue lolling.

  He frowned at her. ‘I do not believe you. Tegramond is our friend.'

  'Many men,' she said again. 'Many men. Carib no."

  'You . . . why are you telling me this, Yarico? You have not been with me for a long time.'

  'Ed-ward,' she said, and placed her hand on her left breast.

  'Aye.' He had believed her, once. But she was too savage to understand the true meaning of the word. ‘I do not believe you, Yarico. You seek to make trouble between your people and mine.'

  She stamped her foot, her sunny mood disappearing. 'Edward, good,' she said contemptuously, and rubbed her belly.

  'So tell me then, when is this terrible deed to take place?" he demanded. 'When, Yarico? When? Tonight?"

  She shook her head, 'Sun, moon, sun, moon. But moon, no.'

  He nodded. But to believe her... to believe that this savage bitch, because she was no more than that, would betray her own people, for the sake of a white man who had spurned her ... it made no sense. It made no sense of the Tegramond who had quietly fallen asleep at the dinner, who even now stood on the beach gazing at the cannon being set into place.

  ‘I do not believe you,' he said. 'You wish to cause trouble between our people. Now go.'

  She hesitated for a moment, gazed from his face to his outstretched hand, and then turned and glided into the trees, as silently as she had come.

  He awoke to the sound of footsteps in the room. On the far side Sarah wheezed in her sleep, as ever. Closer at hand, Philip slept heavily. All of Sandy Point slept heavily, after the toil of the past few days. And the carousing. Since the French had arrived there had been a continual celebration, which had caused Father some concern, as the women were clearly inclined to spread their favours. But this night, with the cannon in place, all had slept, saving this intruder.

  Slowly Edward dropped his hand over the side of his hammock, seeking his sword. But this was no Indian; he was sure of that.

  'Edward?’

  He sat up. 'Father?'

  'Dress yourself and come with me, lad,' Tom whispered. 'Hurry, now. And bring your weapon.'

  Edward got out of the hammock, dragged on his breeches, and went outside. The air was chill with the promise of dawn, but the night was at its darkest, although the skies were as clear as ever and the stars winked in an unceasing sweep of glowing red.

  'Here, boy.' Tom Warner stood outside his house. ‘I have sent Jarring to summon Monsieur Belain. Hal, are you there? Ralph?’

  Figures loomed out of the darkness. 'What has happened, Tom?' Ashton asked.

  'Grave news,' Tom said. Now that his eyes had become accustomed to the gloom, Edward could see that his father had not been to bed at all; he was fully dressed.

  'Captain Warner?' Belain, half-dressed, hurried up the beach, Jarring behind him. With them was Belain's brother-in-law, who acted as sailing master of the Madeleine. His name was Joachim Galante, a tall, thin man with a remarkably grim face, who made himself appear the more sinister by his habit of always dressing in black. 'Are we assailed?"

  'We shall be, monsieur, depend upon it. News has been brought to me that the Caribs mean an attack upon us.'

  'Mon Dieu,' Belain said. 'But why?'

  'Because our numbers are grown too great,' Tom explained. They fear our eventual dominance, and also that there will be insufficient food to feed us all, should we continue in this vein.'

  'Who told you this, Father?" Edward demanded. ‘Yarico?"

  Tom turned slowly. 'She is an honest child.'

  'She knows not the meaning of the word,' Edward said. 'This is a plot to cause friction.'

  'Friction, you say,' Jarring remarked. 'And us like to be murdered in our beds, and eaten afterwards.'

  'You'll keep your voice down, if you please, Mr Jarring,' Tom said. ‘I should not like to alarm anyone unnecessarily. Nor should I like the Caribs to know we are aware of their plans. But I deemed the occasion of sufficient importance to call this conference.'

  'For which we must thank you from the bottom of our hearts, Captain Warner,' Belain said. 'We must first establish that the event will take place. You believe this girl?'

  ‘I do,' Tom said.

  'Well, I do not,' Edward said.

  'Ah,' Belain said. 'No doubt you are equally well acquainted with this young woman?'

  'Now, what do you mean by that, monsieur?" Tom inquired.

  ‘I meant no offence, sir,' Belain assured him. 'And I would be grateful should you not take any, or I should have to kill you.'

  'By God,' Tom said. 'You impudent....'

  'Tom,' Berwicke said. 'Surely this is no time for quarrelling amongst ourselves. It matters naught whether we choose to believe the girl, or to discover some ulterior motive behind her action. 'Tis certain that we cannot ignore the circumstances. We should arm ourselves, and go openly to Tegramond, and put tins rumour to him, and hear the answer.'

  'A happy thought,' Tom said. 'We'll deal with him as men, and Christian men, too, by God. Straight up.'

  'Mon Dieu,' Belain said. 'Have I landed in a colony of children?'

  ‘I do not expect the chief to admit to any plan of murder, monsieur,' Tom said. ‘I merely wish him to understand that we are aware of what he intends, and prepared for it."

  'And you think this will alter his intention, Captain Warner? Then indeed you are an optimist.'

  'None the less, it is the honest, Christian thing to do,' Tom said. 'And after that, why, we shall mount guards on our encampment.'

  'For ever?’ Belain inquired. 'And what of our plans, our treaty? We mean to divide ourselves. In time we shall spread over the island, in small groups. Why, sir, are you not immediately condemning your Mr Hilton and his beautiful bride to bein
g eaten alive? They are alone on the north coast.'

  'By God,' Ashton said ' Tis true. We cannot permit that, Tom. And the monsieur is right; if the savages mean to attack us, and discover that they cannot finish the job in one night, then be sure that they will resort to stealth and murder.'

  'Or summon assistance from one of the neighbouring islands,' Galante put in.

  Susan being torn apart by Wapisiane? There was an impossible thought.

  'Well, then, monsieur, do you have a better suggestion?' Tom inquired.

  Belain sighed, and glanced at Galante, who shrugged.

  'Captain Warner, we are here faced with a terrible situation,' Belain said. ‘I am responsible for the lives of my people, as are you for yours. More, we have both elected to make our futures here, to populate these fair islands with our families and their descendants. Now, sir, it seems to me that in the pursuance of such an ideal, which is, after all, nothing less than the propagation of the Christian faith throughout these heathen lands, and in the face of such a tremendous responsibility, we can afford to shirk no task, however distasteful, however horrible it may appear to us, as men and as Christians.'

  ‘I do not understand you, monsieur,' Tom said. 'Speak plain, man. Speak plain.'

  Belain sighed again. 'These people, these savages, these cannibals, seek our destruction. And having once conceived of that, they will never lose sight of it. Our only course is to defend ourselves, by first destroying them.'

  'By God,' Tom said.

  ‘You mean, array ourselves in order of battle, and await their onslaught?' Berwicke demanded.

  'One way, certainly, Mr Berwicke,' Galante said. 'But surely a foolish waste of those very lives we are sworn to protect. Are we less men than the Caribs? Why should we not assault them, while they are unaware that we know their intentions?"

  'By God," Tom said.

  ‘Indeed, sir," Belain said. 'Why should it not be done this instant? We can call our people to arms and undertake the necessary deed within two hours. At daybreak, where they are not planning their venture before tomorrow night."

  "The man is right, Tom," Ashton muttered. 'Why shed Christian blood where there is no necessity for it? Would any captain, would you, during your days in Holland, have undertaken battle where it was possible to gain the victory by subterfuge and surprise?'