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Authors: Christopher Nicole

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HF - 01 - Caribee (17 page)

BOOK: HF - 01 - Caribee
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For
they
had seen nothing of him since the moment he had taken to the forest, and the conclusion seemed obvious.

Tegramond stood next to the Warne
rs. Even he had managed to learn
a word or two o
f English. He waved his arms, en
compassing the sea and the sky, and said, 'Many people come.' But he smiled, and Tom Warner smiled also, and clapped him on the shoulder.

'Women,' he said. 'Men, women.' He crossed the forefingers of each hand, and Tegramond laughed.

'Tom,' John Jefferson cried, as the first boat grounded in the shallows. 'Well met. By God, but you told no lies when you described this place. I have not seen such beauty. I wish I could stay. Perhaps I shall, at least, return after I have sold your tobacco. Mistress Warner.' He kissed Rebecca's hand. 'And this is Edward? By God, sir, you're a giant.'

He was himself a large man, dominated by the huge hook of his nose, which threw cheeks and wide mouth hi to the shade. He wore a broad hat and sweated right through his doublet, and looked ill at ease, despite his enthusiasm.

'What news of England, Mr Jefferson?' Ralph asked.

‘I
t
changes li
tt
le, Mr Berwicke. The King is ailing, and I fear that we may soon be ruled by Prince Charles. Ah, well, they say any change is usually for the be
tt
er.' He laid his finger alongside his nose. 'But I am no politician, you'll understand. Now, Tom, tell me what you think of these.'

Edward had already been staring at the two remaining boats coming ashore, frowning in a mixture
of alarm and dismay. For one th
ing, each boat contained four sailors, si
tt
ing in the bows, armed with cutl
asses and with pistols in their belts, and F
ath
er had always insisted that there be no display of weapons in front of the
Indian
s. For another, the people gathered amidships in the boats were unlike any he had ever seen before. White skinned, certainly; in fact most of them were either yellow or red haired, with very pale flesh. But there was no suggestion of breeding or even civilization amongst them; their hair was wild and curling, the men's beards were undipped, and their clothes were a collection of rags.

Tom Warner had also noticed the boats as they came into the surf, and had begun to frown. 'What's this, John? What's this?'

Tis a difficult question you posed us, Tom,' Jefferson explained. "Which we undertook to solve as best we could. This colony of yours still sounds a savage place to English ears, and your crops, if prime quality, are still small. Success begets success, they say. As your colony becomes larger and more prosperous, so will men and women of quality become anxious to join you. Until then, why, it is necessary to prime the pump, so to speak. These people are from Ireland.'

‘I
reland?' Ashton said, peering at the boats, which were now grounding. 'You mean Catholic rebels?

'Were
they
not, Mr Ashton, they would hardly be here. Tis becoming quite a custom, in these days, to ship the disaffected off to the Virginias and the Carolinas, there to work for a spell. So I arranged a shipload for you, Tom. You'll find them good, sturdy people, capable of fine work, if properly supervised. Line them up there,' he told his officer.

The Irish men and women were made to wade ashore, and arranged in two lines, the females in front and the males behind; there were twelve men and eleven women. None was very old, and they certainly looked strong enough, and cheerful enough, as well, despite the undoubted rigours of the voyage
they
had just undergone. They mu
tt
ered amongst themselves and winked and smiled at the amazed colonists, and the women were not above tugging at the ta
tt
ered bodices of their gowns to reveal swelling flesh, or combing their hair from their foreheads as they observed Rebecca. But to Edward's dismay there was hardly one he would have called pre
tt
y, or even a
tt
ractive; certainly not when set next to Mama. Although perhaps their filth and the odour which arose collectively from the group had something to do with this.

'By God,' Tom was mu
tt
ering. "What are they, then, slaves?"

‘I
ndentured servants, Tom,' Jefferson said.
‘I
have purchased them for you, with some of your profits from the last crop. The last of your profits, I may say. They are now bound to serve you for ten years. For that period of time you may certainly look upon them as your servants, bound to do your every bidding. Your onl
y duty is to feed them and cloth
e them.'

Tom walked slowly down the line of women, frowning as
they
giggled at him, and glancing at the group of young men behind him, who were whispering amongst themselves. ' Tis not what I had expected.'

'But all that could be secured, Tom. You should know the difficulties yourself.'

'And at least they seem cheerful and well behaved,' Rebecca said.

'Ah, well....' Jefferson pulled at his long nose. They are that happy to see dry land again, and to keep them happy we gave each man and woman a glass of wine before bringing them ashore. They're Irish, you'll understand, Mrs Warner, and given to riot and general ill behaviour. They need a strong hand over them.'

'And I have such powers?’
Tom demanded.

They are yours, Tom, for a space of ten years. Here, I have drawn up a pa
per for their understanding. Thi
s has been read to them, and they appreciate its worth. I think it would be best where you to continue its dictates.'

Tom took the rolled parchment, and perused it with a grim face. 'By God,' he said at last. 'For insolence, a dozen lashes on the bare back. For raising a hand against an employer, two dozen lashes on the bare back. For a
tt
empting to escape, four dozen lashes on a bare back. John, you've an omission here. There is no actual death sentence.'

Jefferson did not appear to notice the sarcasm. 'Ah, well, you see, as
they
are only bound for a term of years, it is your responsibility to keep them alive. To the best of your ability, that is. Should they a
tt
empt to mutiny, now, you'd be entitled to use whatever force you considered necessary, and no doubt make an example of the ringleader. It'd be best to leave them in no doubt as to that.'

Tom scratched his head. "You pose me a pre
tt
y problem here, John. What say you, friends?'

They outnumber us, to be sure,' Ashton said. 'But not to any great extent. And providing we keep our wits about us, we should not find ourselves in any quandary. There's no doubt that with those sturdy fellows we could clear a much larger area to put into cultivation.'

'And in any event,' Berwicke put in, 'we can always call on the chief for assistance, should we need it.'

'And the women?' Tom asked.

'Well, they'll be a great help,' said one of the young men
-
He glanced at his companions, and flushed.
‘I
t seems to me that Mistress Warner is faced with a sight too many domestic duties.'

Rebecca smiled.
‘I
won'
‘I
say no to that, William Jarring. But I've a notion you see more arising from these girls than a mere laundry.'

Well. .. .' Jarring stood on one leg and again gazed in confusion at his compatriots.

'As I said, John, a pre
tt
y problem,' Tom said. 'My boys have been bachelors for too long.'

'Well, then, why not let them pick and choose,' Jefferson suggested. 'Ten years is a long time. With fortune none of these girls, at the least, will want to return to their bogs at the end of it.'

'Saving that you quite forgot to bring us a priest, John.'

There's a fault I shall remedy on my next voyage, I swear. But for the time being, you can fill that duty, Tom. You are King's Lieutenant, and Governor of these islands. You have the right to perform a marriage, at least in common law, providing the banns are read in proper fashion.'

'Aye
,' Tom mu
tt
ered, pulling at his lip.
‘I
had li
tt
le conception that there was so much to growing a few sheaves of tobacco.'

'Yet was it always your ambition to grow people as well, Mr Warner, ' Rebecca pointed out. 'Did you not dream of a place where all men could be free, of law as well as imposition, each to a
tt
empt to live his life in his own way?

'And here is my dream coming to an imme
di
at
e end.'

'Only as it is forced upon you, sir,' she insisted. 'Can you not look upon these people, no, upon us all, as your own children? We have bound ourselves to obey you, and do so faithfully. These Irish folk may need to be shown your fist on occasion, but have not your own sons always needed
that
, and do they not still love you and obey you? I think Mr Jefferson is right. We need to grow, and we cannot afford to be too particular about the means we employ. And if I may in any way influence your decision, I shall be happy to play the mother to these girls.'

Tom continued to frown, and stare from his people to the newcomers, until one of the Irishmen called out, 'Sure, and are we to stand here the day, being broiled in this sun? 'Tis be
tt
er we'd be clapped back in the hold of that tub.'

'Hold your miserable tongue,' bellowed the officer from the ship, stepping forward and whipping his stick to and fro. The sounds of the blows echoed across the beach, and the Irishmen cursed, and one or two raised their fists, only to be checked by the pistols of the sailors. The Caribs mu
tt
ered amongst themselves on the far side of the strand, and Tegramond grinned.

'Avast th
ere,' Tom growled. 'We'll not air our differences in front of the savages. All right, my decision is made. Each man is allowed a male servant, and a female.
I
'll force no man, by God, and no woman, for
that
ma
tt
er. You'll make your choices and abide by them with full responsibility. But whosoever shows me a full belly shall be married within the month. And to his wife he shall show the respect of a
gentle
man. I'll have that understood.'

'Spoken like a Solomon, Tom,' Jefferson said. 'Come, will you make a choice now?'

‘I
t'd be be
tt
er done over a bo
tt
le,' someone mu
tt
ered.

Tom rounded on them, his face an angry flush.
‘I
'll have no lewdness here,' he shouted. 'Choose now, or be done with it. And remember, I'll have respect, and good manners. We'll make these people serve us best by treating them as we would our own families.'

'But there are only eleven females, Mr Warner,' Jarring protested. 'And fourteen unmarried men.' He ignored Edward.

'Now, there's a fact,' someone else remarked.

'Thi
rteen,' Berwicke said.
‘I
'll not be lumbering myself with a wife after sixty years of bachelorhood.'

'Still two short," Jarring said.

' Tis a pity you'd not a couple more of these girls tucked awa
y, John,' Tom said. There's noth
ing likely to disrupt the colony more than jealousy. Ah, well, you'll
have to draw lots, lads. Mr Ash
ton is reserved, as he is one of my original colonists. But two of you'll go short.'

Jefferson was tugging away at his nose. There is another wench,' he said in a low voice.

'Eh?" Tom turned. 'And you'd not bring her ashore?

'She's under duress, if you must know. Seems someone responsible for rounding up these beggars made a mistake. This young woman claims some quality. Oh, 'tis vague enough, and nothing that any of us should note, but it's had that bad an effect on her character. She's pushed a knife clear through one of the crew.'

'Killed him?' Rebecca whispered.

'No. Although he

ll wear a scar to his grave. Still, it was her intent no less.'

'No doubt she had a reason,' Tom suggested.

'Well, it was a
tt
empted rape, to be sure. But still, she was nothing be
tt
er than a serving girl, by his lights. In any event, Tom, I'd not burden you with a born troublemaker. She can go back to England, if she survives the voyage, and cool her heels in the Fleet.'


No,' Rebecca said. 'Bring the creature ashore. I

ll wager she needs nothing more than fresh air and kind treatment.'

Jefferson glanced from Tom t
o his wife, and Tom nodded. 'Yes,
she was protecting her virtue, then I've every sympathy with her.'

'Virtue?' Jefferson asked in amazement.

You

ll find none in this crowd. They're fornicating before
they
know the meaning of the word. But I'll have her ashore.'

He signalled the ship, and a moment later they saw the young woman being forced over the side; she seemed to feel each touch of a male hand, each command from a male voice, as a drop of boiling water, to be resisted and avoided. Edward felt a sudden compassion for her, and with it, a sudden excitement. The eleven girls on the beach in front of him interested him no more than the Carib women, perhaps even than Yarico, now. She was the most intelligent of them all, but she was still very li
tt
le more than an animal, and she was capable of filling him with disgust. He could not imagine her, or any of them, deeming it necessary to rebuff an amorous sailor. But here was a girl who had acted very much as Mama might have done, only she was to be punished for it.

And here was some beauty, too. No doubt it was already present, in his mind, but then, he could tell by the expressions of the men around him, and even of the Caribs, that this was not the whole of it. She gloried in a head of the most marvellous auburn hair, winch possessed a peculiar sheen to it, even in the afternoon sunlight. Below, the skin was very lightly dusted with freckles, entirely lacking the muddy quality of the other girls. Nor were her features vacantly rounded, as theirs, but rather aquiline, with a straight nose set between two wide grey eyes, and a matching mouth which sat well above a pointed chin. There was nobility, even hauteur, in the way she gazed at the beach, allowed herself to take in the Caribs, with interest but not fear, and then to dwell with the utmost contempt on the group of eager white men. Only when she saw Rebecca did her expression change, but for a moment, before resuming her normal reserve.

She was tall; when she stood up she matched any of the sailors, and slender, but yet obviously a full grown woman; she wore no more than a shift, winch the breeze fla
tt
ened against brea
st and belly, gathered around th
igh and bu
tt
ock. And she had all the instincts of a lady, for when she stepped down on to the beach, and a playful gust threatened to lift her skirt, she held it firm with her hand where her predecessors had cared nothing for their exposed legs.

'Over here,' Jefferson said.

The mate gestured the girl in the direction of the others. He seemed to prefer not to touch her, at this moment. Still holding the skirt of her shift she crossed the sand towards them.

'By God,' Jarring said. 'Now there is a woman. When do we draw lots, Captain Warner?'

The girl stopped, and her gaze, hitherto studying the sand, came up. 'Ye lay a finger on me and I'll take out both your eyes,' she said, quietly, and yet very distinctly. The brogue was there, and yet hidden beneath a veneer of education.

'You seer" Jefferson pointed out. 'She's incorrigible.'

‘I
do not think so,' Rebecca said softly, and stepped forward. 'These girls were sent out here less as wives
than
as servants, were they not? And am I not,
as wife of the Governor, entitl
ed to a servant for my house?'

'But....' Jarring began, to be silenced by a look from Ashton.

'You are, Rebecca,' said the sailing master.
‘I
think that is an entirely suitable suggestion. And indeed, given the time to se
tt
le herself, and to understand that we are gentlemen and not louts, Mr Jarring, she may well prove a good wife to one of us yet.'

'Providing we can wait that long,' Jarring said in disgust, and turned his a
tt
ention to the other girls.

'What is your name?' Rebecca asked. The two women were of almost the same height.

The girl stared at her, and flushed. 'My name is Susan Deardon,' she said. 'And I'd know what ye want of me. I

ll not be sold off like a cow.'

That shall not happen, Susan, I promise
you,' Rebecca said. 'Now, firstl
y, I want your trust. That way we may become friends, and life may take on a more pleasant aspect.'

With the coming of July, Ashton, Berwicke and Edward fell to watching the sky. But it remained clear. There was increased rain, and occasionally they could see the heavy dark clouds forming on the horizon, but always they dispersed before the wind, without assailing the island. Yarico was confident. 'Hurricane, no,' she pronounced, and would fall to playing with his body, as she invariably did whenever they were alone.

He lay on his back, in the forest adjoining Brimstone Hill, their usual meeting place as it had been the first. His clasped hands were beneath his head, and he looked down on her glossy black hair as she fingered and stroked, kissed and caressed. She never tired of him, after more than a year, delighted it seemed equally in arousing him and then in reducing him to flaccid impotence. He was her toy, her plaything, and she loved him. This was the disturbing factor. He marvelled that she had not yet become pregnant. Three of the
Irish girls already had swelling bellies, and there seemed li
tt
le doubt
that
there would be others before very long; Father anticipated the arrival of the priest with more anxiety than he worried about the shipment of his crop, for he could not convince himself that the civil ceremonies he had performed had any significance before God.

What would happen should Yarico also give birth did not bear consideration. Because try as he might Edward could discover no similar feeling within himself. He admi
tt
ed to an endlessly muddled series of emotions. He loved her physical loving—and yet could not help but imagine how much more marvellous would it be should it be done to and by a white girl. This was Susan's effect on him. She had even managed to replace Mama in his midnight dreams. Not that she ever paid any a
tt
ention to him. She paid li
tt
le a
tt
ention to anyone. Father and Mama allowed her to take her meals with themselves and the children, and in many ways treated her as a daughter, yet they were seldom rewarded with a smile and when two of the Irishmen had got drunk and fought, and Father, reluctantly, had ordered them to be flogged for causing a riot, her eyes had smouldered as she had watched the punishment

Edward blamed her not a whit. To be torn from home and family, merely on account of birth and religion, seemed unjust. And the sight of her, the smell of her, for she was most remarkably clean about her person, and the very presence of her, kept him in a state of constant excitement, from which again Yarico benefited, still without seeking to discover whence it arose, without, perhaps, ever suspecting that it had a source other than herself.

He sat up, suddenly decided. Yarico moved her head, to gaze at him, eyes watchful.

‘I
must go,' he said.
‘I
have remembered....' he reached for his breeches, dragged them on.
‘I
must go.'

Yarico stared at him. He bent over her, kissed her gently on the forehead.

Tomorrow?' she asked.

He hesitated. 'Perhaps. I must go.' He ran away from her, over the brow of the hill and down the winding path. Great beads of sweat rolled down his neck, flew from his face. Relief, certainly. She was choking him, slowly, incessantly, with her love. Love? Savage
Indian
s could not love. That girl had torn a man to pieces with her teeth. He must never forget that. He could never forget that. He was her conquest. Her prisoner, she had thought. He would indeed have been her pri
soner, had she had the wit to b
ecome pregnant. Fath
er would have seen to that, rath
er than antagonize Tegramoud. But now he had escaped.

And there was the sweat of anticipation, too. Because it was Sunday, many of the colonists were asleep. Others were gathered by the water's edge, smoking and talking. The Irish labourers, with the frenetic energy peculiar to themselves, were farther up the beach, playing a remarkable game in which they armed themselves
with
palm fronds, carefully trimmed of excess leaves so that only the hard, curved spine remained to provide a four foot long club, with which they chased a dried husk to and fro, as often whacking each other on the shins as gaining their objective. A truly strange people.

It needed no more than caution to approach the village from the rear, through the tobacco field, past the seed beds and the sheds erected for the drying and curing of the crop, for Father had come to the conclusion that he would save by doing this here, and more, produce a distinctive brand of tobacco. Too much was lost by rot on the way home.

He stood in the littl
e yard behind the Governor's house, and
watched his sister building castl
es in the sand. She was six years old, and remained a total stranger to him, a small, dark, earnest child, with unu
tt
erably deep eyes and a perpetually dribbling nose, who spoke li
tt
le and cried less, seemed wrapped up within herself in the possession of some vast secret.

Si
tt
ing on the
little
step which led to the back door of the hut was Susan Deardon. Her feet were bare, as usual, and her legs drawn up beneath her. Her magnificent hair was loose and flu
tt
ered in the afternoon breeze. She looked half asleep, but her eyes followed the child. Christ, how he sweated. But this was all to the good. Father and Mama must have taken a walk along the beach, perhaps to visit Tegramond.

He stepped round the building, and her head moved. 'Ye're a strange one, Master Edward,' she said. 'What brings ye creeping through the grass like a thief?'

He cursed the flush he could feel burning his cheeks. 'What makes you sit here by yourself, when everyone else is enjoying themselves?'

'Enjoying themselves? Is that what they're at?' Her shoulder rose and fell.
‘I
'm to watch Miss Sarah.'

'And I came to watch you,' he said boldly.

Her head half turned. There was no change in her expression. But she moved her legs, stretching them in front of her, and arranged her skirt across her ankles. She wore one of Mama's old gowns, pulled in to fit her slender waist, but refused to a
tt
empt shoes. And what need, in such a climate and with such beautiful feet.

'Because there's nothing I'd rather do,' Edward said, and sat beside her. Now his sister also watched him, briefly, before returning to her game in the sand. 'Why don'
t
you admit it?" he asked. 'This place is not half so bad as you'd anticipated. You've food to eat, and water or wine to drink. You've as pleasant a climate as anyone could dream of....'

'And I'm owned by pleasant people,' she said.

"You're not owned by anyone, Susan.'

'Of course ye're right, Master Edward. I'm just borrowed. Do ye know how old I am? Eighteen. So when your
mother is finished with me, I’ll
be twenty-eight. Mistress Warner's castoff.'

'You could end that tomorrow.' The saliva drained from his mouth to leave his throat parched.

At last she looked at him. 'Marry one of them thickheaded louts? Then I would be entering slavery.'

‘I was thi
nking that there are
gentle
men on this island.'

It occurred to him
that
he had never really seen her before. She had been a face, exposed by its very circumstances, but strong enough to protect the brain within; a body, well concealed beneath her clothes; bare feet which but promised the beauty that would exist in the rest of her. And the hair. It was the hair which filled his dreams. Would the hair on her belly be that glorious? But now the mask was spli
tt
ing, from sheer surprise. Her reserve had, after all, been no more than loneliness. And suddenly she looked less an untouchable beauty than a frightened young girl.

BOOK: HF - 01 - Caribee
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